An Angel Amongst the Chaos

[Warning: this post is LONG! I swear it gets to the angel, eventually…]

When people ask me to describe Haiti, I can find only two descriptive words that capture what I saw: extreme chaos and unbelievable beauty. From the second I stepped off the plane in Port-Au-Prince, I found myself amidst pure chaos, but throughout the chaos I saw such beautiful things!

Actually, the chaos didn’t begin in Haiti…in short, my adventure TO Haiti:

In February, a month after the earthquake, I was talking to a man who said, “we should all pack up and go help out in Haiti.” I agreed, but knew I wouldn’t go out of my way to make it happen. In March, I met a woman’s health “intuitive medical healer” who volunteered once a month at the same clinic I was volunteering at. (Maybe my next entry will be a volunteer year in review…maybe.) She mentioned she was Haitian and going back to Haiti in July. I asked, half jokingly, if I could join. In April, I officially signed up for the trip. In May, I paid my dues to the AHDH (the Haitian Association for Human Development, the group we were joining for this medical mission trip!) and bought a plane ticket. In June, I packed up my one year of life in San Diego, said goodbye to my friends and San Diego “family,” and moved back to my parent’s home in NJ. The day I arrived home the Dr. who arranged for me to join the medical team asked if I would have extra room in my suitcase to help transport Kenaf seeds to Haiti. (I won’t go into detail, but apparently kenaf is great for agriculture and, like bamboo, it has a million uses…) I agreed (stupid move, my mom already lectured me…) and 4 days later, the day before my venture to Haiti, I received, in the mail, 3 boxes of unidentifiable seeds in little baggies, totaling 50lbs. They did offer a striking resemblance to marijuana seeds (google, you scare me!), and after going back and forth for the night, I decided to stuff the little baggies into my suitcase and carry on. SO, 5 days after moving home and about 45 minutes later than schedule, with my smuggled seeds in suitcase and with none of the recommended vaccinations, I set off to the airport. (side note: I was in Nicaragua the year before and had many of the vaccinations that were required/suggested for Haiti, I just neglected to get the typhoid vaccination. I DID have prophylactic malaria medication, thanks to a doctor at the clinic!)

I arrived at the airport at 5:15am for my 6am flight. I made check-in for my flight with 5 minutes to spare, but was slowed down by my baggage (my checked bag was too heavy, had to switch around my seeds a bit!) AND the lady thought my carry-on was too big- I assured her it would be fine and ran to security, which also took forever. I started to think about my mom’s offer: she told me she would PAY me the price of my ticket and mission fee (and maybe then some?) to NOT go. I’ve been to dangerous places before (hell, I spent most every Saturday in Tijuana this past year!) but I had reservations about this trip- in my “journal” of my Haiti trip, on the first page I ask, “what AM I afraid of?!”

I had a 3 hour layover in Miami then boarded my plane to Port-Au-Prince. Looking out the plane window as we neared Haiti, I noticed what looked like houses that lined the mountainside. As we got closer, I realized that those houses were tarps; the houses were destroyed in the earthquake.

the tents in Port-Au-Prince

When we landed, I began to stress: I had to find the people I didn’t know I was looking for. I was meeting a team of doctors, nurses, artists, engineers and other volunteers, but didn’t know what anybody looked like. The doctor I knew was already in La Valle, Jacmel, where were going to be living for the next 10 days. ALSO, I had to smuggle 50lbs of seeds into a country where I didn’t speak the language. Somehow 2 doctors and I realized we were all part of the same trip. In a quick conversation, they agreed that I shouldn’t declare the seeds and instead I should keep my fingers crossed, smile and enter the country- and if I got arrested they would bail me out…the next day. I laughed- I needed that humor!


kenaf seeds, safe and secure in the hotel room.

The leader of the trip herded the group of volunteers together with a cardboard box that said “AHDH” and got us to the next airport, where a chartered plane would take us to Jacmel. My experience in Port-Au-Prince was chaotic: people yelling, fighting over luggage, pulling at me to go this way and that way, trying to take my luggage, people begging for money, etc. After our 20 minute flight and a long, cramped, bumpy car ride up a mountain, we found ourselves at our beautiful hotel with incredible views…

The first night I saw a girl wearing a “North Park” t-shirt. Curious, because I lived in South Park in San Diego, I asked about the shirt. Turns out her name is Ali and she lives on 28th Street in North Park, San Diego- random, because my name is Ali and I lived on 28th Street in South Park, San Diego, literally just separated by a canyon. We became quick pals.

I’m not going to go into all of my adventures in Haiti, maybe they will come out in random entries in time, but maybe not. Probably not. As I’ve told most people who asked, it was a good experience and I am glad I went, but I’d never go back. I am thinking it was a mixture of going so soon after the biggest transition of my life (I went from having either school or work or a sport every day for the past 18 or 19 years or so to NOTHING, and from having the same roommate for 4 years of college, then living with 5 people for 10 months to coming home to find all but one of my friends living in NYC or elsewhere) AND not being able to communicate with any of the children or patients (my Spanish isn’t great, but I definitely got by in Nicaragua, TJ and San Diego! I can say “good morning” and “good evening” in Creole, but that’s it!)- I just couldn’t wait to leave Haiti. I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else so badly.

[cut to the end of the trip: we leave the hotel in a HUGE van, filled to the max, and then some, 4 people to each row. I almost have a panic attack realizing that i was sitting in the seat furthest to the door, and we were driving down a mountain with no paved roads, Haitian style. oy. get to the little airport. i was assigned to the first (15 passenger?) plane. get on. we go down the runway to take off, only to turn around and come back to the start. we head down the runway again, this time almost colliding w/ the second plane that was just landing, but then turn around again. we are instructed to get off the plane b/c there were mechanical issues. we start to take our stuff off the plane. a few minutes pass. they decide the plane is safe- we are instructed to re-board. I did as I was told, and I prayed the ENTIRE 20 minute plane ride. in normal circumstances I probably wouldn't have gotten onto the plane again, but i was so desperate to leave, I was willing to do anything to get home!]

One of the running jokes was that if there was electricity, there was no water, and if there was water, there was no electricity. Our hotel had internet access, but only occasionally. When I was in Nicaragua, we had no warm water, no flushing toilets and little electricity- there were no complaints. I couldn’t help but get frustrated by the few complaints I heard about the conditions throughout the week- hell, I was expecting to stay in a tent all week, so our hotel was a luxury! There was only ONE time I was annoyed with the lack of water: one afternoon one of the doctors wanted to teach me how to start an IV. Eventually I got it, but the patient’s blood ended up all over the floor, my gloves and my sneakers. Earlier in the same day there was another health scare (more on that below)- needless to say, i just wanted a freakin shower. Water was out all day and I needed to quick change to get ready for a dinner party at a very generous and grateful local's house. it was delicious (as was all of the food in Haiti!) buuuut, i just wanted a shower.


(this was the result of IV #2, less blood than #1, but you get the idea...)

Anyways,
The people I went with were wonderful- everyone worked hard day and night to care for the patients, some going above and beyond to ensure the health of a patient. One family on the medical team, a surgeon, his wife (a nurse) and their daughter, a surgery resident, absolutely blew my mind and reminded me why I wanted to go into the medical field; they were truly making a difference.

My first day at the hospital, an extremely sick 8 year old boy arrived, weighing only 42-48lbs (i forget the exact weight, but either way this 8 year old weighed less than the seeds I smuggled!) His father had walked him 4 hours to get to the hospital. I helped gather some equipment and walked into the room to find a beautiful boy with the biggest brown eyes lying in the bed- he looked to be nothing more than skin and bones. His father sat in a chair at the end of the bed with his head lowered in prayer, then he kneeled in prayer, with tears streaming from his eyes. Being a nurse with no hospital experience at all, I could do nothing helpful “medical” wise, but I knew that I could make a difference. I got the father a tissue, who looked at me and said “merci,” and then I nodded as I placed my hand on his shoulder. I realized that there doesn’t have to be a language barrier: sometimes words fail us. And when they do, a tissue, a hug, a smile, or even shedding a tear yourself- it’s the least we can do, and sometimes these actions say a whole lot more than our words ever could have.

Yuri


This boy’s symptoms included stomach pain, fever and a rigid abdomen. An ultra sound showed this patient’s liver up by his nipple. The bowels were perforated. One of the doctors warned usthat these symptoms can be a sign of typhoid. He tested positive for typhoid. Shit. Not only did I touch the dad, who obviously had been in close contact with his son, I had given the boy a toy and definitely touched him too. I started to regret my decision not to get the typhoid vaccination. I washed my hands twice. And then another time. i missed hot water.

It was clear that the boy needed surgery. The dilemma? To operate or send him to the hospital in Jacmel. If they operated on the boy, once we left in a few days there would be nobody to care for him, but if they tried to transfer him to Jacmel, would he even survive? The nurse (from the family I mentioned before) offered to stay in La Valle to care for this boy if it was necessary. She offered to stay up night and day to ambu bag him if it was necessary. Her husband and daughter were right by her side. They were going to do everything in their power to make sure this boy lived. And they did. After the team performed surgery at the hospital and spending a few weeks at a hospital in Jacmel, the boy, Yuri, pulled through.

Yuri touched all of our hearts, as did another young boy, Gilbert. Gilbert, an orphan, spent his days at the hospital smiling for our cameras and gratefully accepting the small gifts we could offer him. He was absolutely adorable, and it broke our hearts to realize that he wasn’t attending school. Upon returning to the States, the surgeon and his family worked to get Gilbert in school. This family, incredibly generous with their time and money, are absolute angels.


Gilbert and I!

Many times when I do volunteer work, I find myself getting more than I give. Through volunteering, I’ve learned lessons on life, death, love, determination and faith. I can’t even put into words what another young boy, Jacqui, did for me. He was another orphan that hung around the hospital, and was my helper in finding children that didn’t get any of the gifts we had to hand out.

On Friday, everybody took turns walking to the La Valle Market, held every Friday. When the first group returned to the hospital, we were warned to take little money and bring a “male” for support- it was crazy. Ali and I teamed up with 2 other (female) volunteers and headed to the market, where we met with Dr. Mike. It was remarkable: I absolutely LOVED the chaos. People everywhere, yelling, begging, selling, shopping, etc. At one point we separated from Mike, and when we reunited with him, he said, “let’s get out of here- this man keeps harassing me, we should go.” He turned to lead us out, but with all of the craziness, Ali and I ended up losing the group. At one point, Ali and I stopped walking, looked at each other and then looked around at our surroundings. Though it was extremely loud, the world grew quiet for a moment. We looked to our left and our right, as if trying to distinguish between where we were coming from and where we were headed. Then, the man Mike had warned us about started hassling at us. He grabbed our arms, held things up in our faces and kept yelling at us- Ali and I didn’t know what to do. We tried to push on, but this man was relentless. Then, out of nowhere, Jacqui appeared. He yelled at the man, held him out of our way with one arm, then used his other arm to usher Ali and I out of the crowd, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure we were okay. It was such an amazing feeling to be protected by this young boy of maybe 12 years old- but not speaking the language, I didn’t know how to thank him. I led him into the only food “store” around, and gestured to him to pick something out. He looked at me as if to ask, “really? I can get something?” And I nodded, hoping he would pick something good. He only got a soda, but I was willing to buy him anything. How he found us in the Market I have no idea, but he did. He was truly my angel in the chaos.



Jacqui and I!

Though I said I was very anxious to get home, that didn't prevent me from recognizing and photographing the beauty of Haiti...


he made the hat

if you zoom in, you can see he is staring at me. kind of freaky



our pilot, landing in jacmel.

they were playing a game I learned at my college orientation- i jumped in and won twice! We shared some good laughs. Laughter is definitely a universal language.


see the girl resting on the boy's lap? adorable


a yankee fan in haiti?! :)



one of my favorites



port-au-prince



sorry, i don't know how to rotate the picture!



beautiful.

Pictures of the Market

back at the hospital

gorgeous child














in Haiti they have a saying, "beyond mountains there are mountains"



(view from my hotel room)



thanks for reading! :)