Milot

Friday Jan 9, 2008

My watch alarm beeped at us extra early today. By the time we had become fully conscious, we were stumbling into the airport to catch a flight to Cap Haitian.

Through friends in the States, we were introduced to Dr. Peter Kelley of CRUDEM who works extensively with a hospital in Milot, a small villiage outside of Cap Haitian. We accepted an invitation to come visit his hospital and surrounding facilities and learn about the history of the organization, what services are provided, how resources are used, and how volunteers are utilized.

Early this morning after waiting for 45 minutes in to Tortuga Air waiting room, standing in a line with our laminated boarding cards, walking single-file across the tarmac, we boarded a 20-seat propeller plane. Trusting voyage to such planes is an exercise in faith. Or resignation. The seats looked like extra-padded patio furniture, the seat back hitting us just below the shoulder blades. I never appreciated the sense of privacy the big 747 high-back chairs offer, but it was quite a different thing to be all crammed together in one tiny communal plane. The pilots entered the door behind us, and squeezed into the cockpit open on the sides to the cabin. No bulletproof door keeping them from us. In fact, we watched them push their buttons and pull their levers, speak into their headsets and ready the plane for take-off.

The flight was beautiful. Not climbing to the world-erasing heights of commercial airlines, we flew low over land and mountain, watching little villages pop up over ridges on the mountains or lie nestled in the valleys. Lines of erosion on the mountainside traced the waterways; patchwork fields lay fitted together like a giant puzzle. Most roads looked to be footpaths. Vegetation seemed to get a big thicker and greener as we passed the central plateau and flew closer to the northern coast. The wide fronds of palm and banana trees could be seen from the plane dotting the land.

We were met at the airport by a British nun who has lived and worked in Haiti for the last 6 years; she drove us to the village of Milot. Immediately noticeable in the change of landscape was the freshness of the air, the lush tropical vegetation hugging the road, and the busy work life of the villages we passed. We passed more donkeys, more horses, bony cows grazing amongst the palm fronds, and as always people. We passed a man carrying chickens upside down tethered together, women tending homes sweeping their front porch, men in straw hats working the land with hoes, young women carrying items to market in baskets perched on their heads, children toddling around front yards chasing dogs or grinning and waving at us in curiosity.

We arrived to the beautiful town of Milot where CRUDEM has built and maintain a diverse hospital and community health outreach program. We met with Dr. Kelly who gave us a tour of the hospital, the clinics, and all the ancillary projects that support total community health. I was impressed by the organization and range of services provided from this village-based hospital. Incredible to see such outreach that has come from the efforts of people invested in creating healthier lives for Haitians.

We had some time in the late morning to explore the village of Milot. Patrick and I walked up the street past brightly colored houses with neatly raked yards. Here, no trash littered the road side. Although the paint on the houses was worn, the colors still decorated the village and setting a colorful background to the activity we passed. We were quickly joined by Tony and Serge—two Haitian young men eager to escort blan’s through town, hoping to get employed as guides to the Citadel. Tony shared with us in both English and Creole some of the legends of Henry Christoph—one of the liberators of Haiti. Our history professors did not leave out gory details, and repeated the stories in great detail bilingually to make sure that we for sure knew the history of the man who had built a palace and a Citadel that put Milot on the map. It was sort of like having one of those audio museum guides without an off button.

We climbed the ruins of the palace, peered up at the Citadel perched on the mountainous ridge above, vowing to return to make the hike one day, promising Tony that he could be our guide. We found a high perch on top of the palace ruins, and sat down to enjoy the breeze blowing off the mountains, the lush view of vegetation, and the unique peace that the countryside offers.

This afternoon we've enjoyed a variety of conversations. Our hosts have been generous with accommodation and with information. I was able to talk to some health care providers about victories and challenges in their outreach and community health care organizers eliciting advice in the training of public health agents. We visited with a group of people here from the states on a medical mission as well as with some longer-term ex-pats who had unique views of the country and the community they worked in. As the day comes to an end, the air is cooling, the wind rustling the wide palm fronds outside our window. We wind down from the day enjoying a quiet evening in the Haitian countryside, away from beeping, honking and the water truck's incessant Titanic Theme-song, away from polluted air and noise. The country wraps us in a velvety cool night, inviting us out for a walk to see what we can see. And so, I lace up my shoes and head out the door hoping to catch a star or two, or a good gaze at the moon.