Haiti etc - part whatever

Yes, that's a piglet! Two of these, one pink on black, raced (high speed-very funny) to the left each morning, and raced back before dark. They must be making rounds. They did stop, however, to have a nibble at the disgusting dirt that flowed in front of our house!

Our twice-daily chopper from the US army. Great excitement on Jean's part!


Jean discovered books-even if they're upside down - and recites the entire story.


Typical view of the eroded mountains. I keep thinking that bamboo would be great: popular, long roots, tenacious, fast-growing and much like the sugar cane they are accustomed to. But what do I know? Another option: every person plant 3 trees. Two make it, that's 12 million trees!


Tranquil Countryside...? Keep y'r jaws shut!

I just saw that the first blog (posted after the last blog) made it in after all.

At this point we are about to run out of money, which means that the project is about over. Since we employed seven people: two shoppers/main cooks, two cooks and cleaners, one hauler (that stuff is heavy!!) and book-keeper and two part-time HS students and our driver, we need to break the news gently that their income (which they knew was only temporary) is about over. I think we'll be able to keep the two cooks, the book keeper and the driver for another few days to serve the remaining 20 patients who are alone.
Feeding around 100 people a day was really a major project, particularly in view of the conditions, where water always has to be hauled a distance, cooking is one outdoor on two small charcoal burners and all water has to be boiled 15 minutes before doing the many dishes (1 bowl and 1 spoon per patient plus all cooking utensils).
We still have some funds left (because still more comes in) so we should be able to continue this on a small scale.

Beth's friends from Keystone College are going to a school south of Petionville (I believe) where they will also do a hexagon project with a number of students (google it if you want details) which could have some fabulous results. The Hexagon Project is an international link to OneBigBoost. Every link helps.

This time my goal will be to see what can be done with the tent-city that is still growing around Saint Marc. It was still fairly small and well-cared for by particularly USAid, the US army and Save The Children, who all we saw in great numbers on a daily basis. Helicopters flew in and out every morning and every evening with teams of doctors and nurses, transporting patients when going the other way. Most prominent, however, were the small teams of 3,4,8 people who were joyfully doing their volunteer work around the hospital. Moving patients, carrying charts, washing floors,,all of it needed and no skills required. The t-shirts were actually (I always think they are a bit corny) perfect for identification, and our bright-yellow group stood out with pride - they were the only Haitian one! GOOD FOR THEM!

People are constantly asking what they can do. Although our funds are dwindling, many have offered clothing, new and used, medical supplies, school supplies (the kids have to go back to school and are not allowed in without supplies - a government stipulation...no comment...)

This time I am also going back for another reason. One may wonder what on earth it has to do with the quake. Well...perhaps it is because the quake can finally be a catalyst for change?
I have spent a great deal of time, deep into the dark of night, talking with our team and a group of other young adults. Listening to what they had to say about their government. Listen to what they said about education, food, the city, future. There was not much good they had to say, but neither offered much hope. As I wrote: it may not have to do with the quake, but maybe the time is right, after all this destruction and need for reconstruction (there are cracks in the ceiling of Jean's school, and the school had to close).
The discussion turned to personal responsibility. To leadership on a small scale, and the importance thereof. That they can govern their own neighborhoods in a positive way and be an example for others. But to be peaceful and insistent at all cost. To start with a simple neighborhood clean-up and improving the drain ditches and the odor of facilities. Their homes and clothes are sparkling clean - why not the neighborhood?
They were all very excited and this is one reason I want to go back, just for a few days, before their fire goes out.

Yanko, a HS student who finished 8th grade in Orlando where his Dad works, is particularly aware at what can be accomplished. He painted a picture for me that he wants me to put on a t-shirt. It is in red-white and blue, Haiti's colors. There is a hand holing the flag, and next to it "Haiti - yes we can change it"
It WILL go on t-shirts, and be handed out by him to their neighborhood, for many others to see! It's not a great piece or art, but says it all loud and clear.

To all this I can only add: until you have been there and see it, you will never, ever understand the hopeless poverty like no-where else, exacerbated by the wealth only miles away, nor understand the beauty and love of the Haitian people.

Food Project in Saint Marc, Haiti

It looks like the overly-large picture of our part of our team is the only thing that made it! So sorry. Writing a second time is never quite the same. In addition: all the other pictures posted went into some ocean. But that's not what you want to hear about..

The trips to and from Haiti were truly exhausting. To JFK one evening, up very early to the airport, flight to Santo Domingo, dinner and straight to bed. Up at 4:30 am to stand in line for the bus to Port au Prince (PaP) and then the long ride there. At PaP my ride had not arrived. I tripped and crashed into a pile of stones, tore the tip of my toe, and laying half dead next to a very dead rat didn't improve my mood. Stumbled painfully around for 3 days after which all was fine.

My next ride, due at 4, didn't arrive until 9pm which was not pleasant although many people in the dark parking lot kept me company, each worried that another would maul me. I really did feel very safe. Haiti is not as people portray it to be. (Opinion) My ride appeared (car had broken down - surprise a la Haiti) and I was taken to temporary lodging in Port au Prince, where I slept on the ground with sheets and pillow, blending into a tent city.

The lights flickered in the hot, dark evening and people spoke in low voices. It was strange to lay there, knowing all these people had lost homes, family, work, security, and I was able to just go back whenever I wished. I was glad to be there and have a small sense of their life.
Suddenly someone began to clap in a slow, deliberate pulse. Others joined in and the
sound grew more intense. Through it all began unusual, complex rhythm patterns, such as I have never heard before. And after another few minutes a voice began to sing, joined immediately, Haitian-style, by hundreds of voices when they recognized the melody. It was neither a hymn nor a chant - perhaps a folk song. It was beautiful and I will not forget. The heat did not let up and I killed tons of mosquitos, (Mustik) who were feasting on arms and ankles, before falling asleep. At some point during the night I woke up because it was raining: a soft, warm sprinkle that felt so good on my face and arms and I fell asleep again while the rain fell all over me.

I was woken up at 4 am and the fixed car was waiting in the half-dark. Roosters had been crowing already (they have NO sense of time!) and the tent city was beginning to stir.
My new-found friends (I finally got to see them!) took me on a 3hr ride to my destination in Bois Neuf where, I had been told, 2000 people were waiting desperately for help. They had no water, no food, no clothing, nothing for the babies, no toilet facilities. And I thought I was Jeane d"Arc on a wild horse, banner high. Chaaaarge!

OK. The truth. Bois Neuf is in the valley. Fatima, a religious pilgrimage retreat, is on the mountain top. Great view over the ocean and all. There were maybe 40 people there, 6 of whom were nuns and maybe 12 children and 2 babies. About 1960 people missing. There was ample water, 9 excellent water filters provided by World Aid. Plenty of food in the large kitchen and, judging by the shopping trip, ample finances.
The meals cooked by the kitchen help were excellent. It was mandatory to pray 2x/day for 1 hour each, but preferably 7x/day. Ehh...
I looked it all over for the rest of the day, hobbling around on a very sore foot, talked to some of the young people (they missed their computers etc), packed up the next morning and left at dawn for Saint Marc. Good move - wise judgment for once.

Gladys and Jean had met me at Fatima the afternoon of my arrival there. Jean ran to me, clung to my neck and more or less stayed there. Gladys had arranged a 'taxi' and we were off to Saint Marc with better things to do.

The afternoon was immediately well-spent. We went to visit the hospital, Saint Nicolas, where we met the assistant administrator. He basically, beaming, gave us free reign. Another person showed us the patients from Port au Prince/Petionville and where we should go when filling bowls with food.
The ward were crowded. Many people were on mattresses on the floors, with barely space between beds. The patients from the cities rarely had anu visitors while we were there.

In Haiti, like in most poor countries, family is expected to do everything for the patient. Bathe them, wash their clothes, change the beds and provide food. Since so many patients' families lived so many hours away (or had died), they were left on their own. Help was desperately needed for these people, about 100 in all, divided over 6 buildings. These were the amputees, severe fractures and deep wounds or complications. They were really lonesome.

We met at Gladys' house and met the whole team: six women and four men, two of whom were still in HS. We talked about the plan, the food, the needed nutrition for ill people, healthy food and equipment handling. We talked about shopping and money. I am so glad now that my Kreyol is becoming half-way decent. OK - a quarter. I did not tell them that they would get paid. Instead, I told them that volunteering for the people of their country was the right thing to do. I just wanted to see how many would stay.

We left for the market and I was particularly impressed with one woman, Malene, who took charge and know/understood exactly what needed to be done. Gladys, bossy as she is, was 2nd in command. Vegetables, beans, meat, rice, root vegetables and herbs were picked with great care. The boys carried everything to the car where our daily driver (man #4) was waiting patiently.



After returning to Glady's place, we went straight to work cooking the chicken and the beef (no refrigeration - cook it on the spot), and cutting up a bezillion vegetables.
At 6 am the next morning all was cookied gigantic pots, well-tasted by ALL involved, and finally gently put in the back of the car, which hit bottom after we all got in as well.


More tomorrow. AFter all: this story didn't happen in one day, either! Sleep well.

Haiti 2010: L to R: Frantz, Manie, Malene, Luce, Claudy, Gladys, Jean-Marie and Marianne

Haiti After The Quake

Hello friends and family, and all those great friends overseas,
Welcome to another adventure. But mostly a HUGE Thank You for all your support, whether 'in kind' or in wishes and thoughts. All of equal importance!

I was very surprised just now to find a huge picture of our OneBigBoostg team popping up in front of me. NO idea how it got there. Technology v.Antiquity (me).
On the picture you see a wonderful group of people. From left to right: Frantz (electrician and Gladys' boyfriend of several years), Manie, Luce the almost RN (no $700 to complete her 4th/final year because her father suddenly died), Marlene, the natural leader of the team, Claudy, Glady's oldest brother who never let me out of his sight, and Gladys. Below sits me, holding my boy Jean-Marie. We are here at the hospital's open central area. These young people comprise most of the OneBigBoost team, which did everything to get the project going, and to maintain it independently through the following weeks.

The Journey
Days 1 and 2
From home to airport, to Santo Domingo and on to Port au Prince and from there to Bois Neuf, the place where I was told 2000 people needed food, water and medical care desperately. This took well over 48 hours. I liked what little I saw of Santo Domingo. The next day the bus to Haiti, which all went smoothly except that I left $1000 under my pillow at the SD hotel! A young man who managed the bus company made arrangements: he would go and get the money and deposit it, while his father, at the Port au Prince end, would take it out of his account and give it to me when the bus arrived. I had no choice but to trust the arrangement. Sure enough: his father was waiting for me with $985 (taxi money out)! The father and son turn out to own the company.
I was thrilled, turned around, stumbled over a large piece of metal in a cement slab, slammed into a pile of rubble, next to a dead rat, and cut the very tip of my toe almost off. That was NOT fun! I will watch my money better next time! I couldn't hardly walk for 3 days, soaking, betadining, wrapping, but all is well now although I expect to lose the nail. Never liked that one, anyway.

My 3:30 ride in Petionville didn't show up and I became well acquainted with the parking lot. By 9-whatever pm a nice young man appeared, severely apologizing: both his cars had died on the way there. I know how that is and it hadn't particularly worried me. I had water to drink. He, Patrice, took me home, since it was so late.

We drove through Port au Prince in the dark.
As always: the city was alive at night. Stalls with candles, people hanging around telling jokes and stories. Fires where people cooked food McD-style. In between wafts of bad odors, as expected. Houses and buildings just caved in in the middle, or piles of rubble. The next house in perfect condition with the following home a staircase standing, several feet removed and sideways from where it used to be. In between and behind silent tent 'cities', all as closely packed together as possible. It was all strange and eerie. Some had changed, some went on as if nothing had happened.

I was brought to Patrice (my ride) and Robert's home, which was part of another tent city. The house and garden, flowing into the tents, were packed with people, silently laying in the dark. I was given a spot on the ground, with a clean sheet under and over me and, oh joy, a real pillow. That was much appreciated. The mosquitos (mustiks) feasted on my light skin. Near me I saw occasional eye-white looking at me, or even a sudden white smile. I felt very fortunate to be there. I was also exhausted, but the mustiks kept me half awake. Ankles and lower arms are much in demand this time of year.

Suddenly, in the deep dark, someone started clapping with a strong pulse. Slowly, determinedly. Others joined, as did a drum, and the clapping grew in volume. I wondered about Voodoo for a moment, but no such luck. Another sound joined: incredibly complex and unusual rhythmic patterns, again taken over by others. This went on for what seemed quite some time. Then a woman began to sing, joined by more and more voices, strong and determined in the night - something that was neither sad nor cheerful, nor religious. It was absolutely beautiful. I laid in the dark, wondering what I had done to be almost part of this incredible experience.

The following morning, the 18th, I was woken very early (5 am?) and we were on our way again.No food nor drink was offered and I wished I had a cracker. Somehow I wasn't really hungry.
We drove about 2-3 hours, then began to climb a mountain. From the top was an incredible view of the ocean and surrounding mountains. Along the way had been all sorts of effigees (spelling??), which I didn't understand at all. I was ready for my 2000 hungry people with pots, pans and money.
A strange situation was waiting for me.

I hobbled from the car to the main building, tripping over every conceivable rock with my good foot, and was welcomed by a very loud woman. She was happy to see me, she said, and told me she needed to go to town to buy "everything". I was puzzled.
I looked for the 2000 refugees, tents, sad things, and saw none. Niente. Niks.
Gladys and Jean showed up an hour later and together we came to the conclusion that this place was a hoax. It is Fatima, a religious retreat, where sometimes thousands come to pray. There were 15-20 people there who had come from PaP, but who apparently come there frequently anyway. Gladys snuck into the kitchen and found plenty of food there. Together we found LOTS of water, and 9 very expensive water filters. While I was there 2 lovely meals were served to everyone. This was all wrong.

I spoke with two teenagers, daughters of the loud lady, who were puzzled as well. About me.
"We have 6 prayer services every day, each for an hour, and two are mandatory: 6 am and 7pm. Yes we need you, because we are SO BORED here! No TV, our friends (only a few died) are far away, we don't have our computers or video games! We hate it here but our house is messed up."
Eh...
"You don't want to pray with us? You HAVE to! (No I don't!). Aren't you a Christian? You pray to God, right?
Hard to explain.
Well...what other Christians are there? Are you Jewish?
No. But there is Methodist, Lutheran, Adventist...
But those aren't Christians!
...Oh boy...

I went packing and the next morning Gladys, Jean and I left for Saint Marc and Hopital Saint Nicolas.

I met with the young people Gladys had gathered for the project and I was immediately really impressed. There were 4 more women (one disappeared) and two HS boys, as well as Glady's boyfriend Frantz. Such great, great people.
Together we went to the hospital to get some exact answers.

Gladys had assured me that there were "a lot" of people from Port au Prince/ Petionville, but " lot" isn't very exact. And I needed permission and contact in person.
We met with the assistant to the medical director, who was thrilled with our plans. He found another assistant, who took us through the hospital wards, pointed out people who were from PaP, and showed us where we could safely and hygenically (..?) put our food down, ladle it into bowls and dole it out.
Our next trip was to the fabulous market, rich in color and sound, where we bought LARGE amounts of fresh vegetables, onions, garlic and herbs, lots of potatoes, 2 huge bags of rice (I insisted on the more expensive Haitian rice which they found ridiculous, until they learned that their rice is both more nutritious and supporting their economy...very proud) and beans.
And chicken.
It was hauled home via 'taxi', and the man became our daily driver.

Gladys has a great place now: most of the 2nd floor of a house. White ceramic tile floor, 3 rooms, a bathroom that doesn't (didn't) work (I scrubbed and fixed it) and a kitchen w/o water. With the help of big buckets, we all sat upstairs to scrape, wash and chop vegetables while some cooked the chicken outside on the charcoal cooking contraptions. At 6 am the next day it was all turned into a truly mouth-watering chicken soup. Thick, rich, filled with all the nutrients so badly needed by the recipients.
All, people and soups, crammed into the taxi (which hit the dirt several times) and drove to the hospital.

It was a great experience and the young people's pride grew as we worked. They have never been in a situation where they can GIVE, nor where they are important and respected. And in charge.
The patients, mostly with ghastly wounds or pins in legs and feet, were so grateful to receive hot, real food.
In Haiti, hospitals do not have a kitchen. Everyone is expected to have family/friends who bring them food on a daily basis. Those from PaP rarely do have family and visitors (3-4 hrs driving) and they get left-overs from others. We hope.
It was just wonderful.
The only problems we encountered were getting bowls and spoons back, and being firm about those who suddenly came from PaP also..
Some were nasty but Gladys doesn't take any bull.


Back at Gladys' place, we discussed what to do next. I suggested that they rotate meals: one day chicken soup (thick stew, really), next beans, rice with some meat "salami" and fresh tomatoes, then a beef stew, and last spaghetti and sauce. (a common and liked food) And try to serve fresh tomatoes, sliced onions or cucumber with it.
More shopping.
The third day I stood back completely and the 4th I didn't go with them at all: they had to be independent and come back with stories and questions.
In addition to food we also provided each patient with several pr of underwear and hygiene items, sometimes hair-doodats or cups, all rolled up into a little package. They were so happy.

By then Beth had sent the second $1000. We sat down to do and explain business, trust, leadership and responsibilities. And everyone was told all the facts to avoid any hanky-panky. I also explained that the project would definitely be over by March 13 at the latest.

Along with the food purchases, which came to about $140/day, we paid for transportation and wages. Beth and I had discussed that this was terribly important. That alone was a miracle to them, because I had not mentioned this and let them 'volunteer' the first day, seeing who would return. All but 2 did. I explained that the leader, Marlene, who did all the planning and was in charge of the shopping, received $25 (at $1-3/day normal income this was an awesome amount). Gladys, her assistant, received $20/day, the others $15 each and the two HS boys $10/day each. A new refrigerator, Gladys' dream, costs $78, to put things in perspective. Also: each received a good hot meal from what was cooked. Everyone accepted it instantly.
Bookkeeping was explained and Luce, the nurse, is in charge of anything written and Frantz of all the book keeping.

I left last Wednesday feeling secure and trusting and with a sense of accomplishment. Something overlooked is being taken care of. (Didn't get home until Friday night!)

I saw many aid organizations, mainly USAid,( very prominent,) US Army, Doctors w/o Borders, the UN, various catholic services, the Hands..whatever, as well as orgs. from many other countries. I never saw the Red Cross, nor Beyond Borders. Helicopters flew overhead delivering people and goods on soccer fields.
There were small teams everywhere, from every state and nation, helping with medical issues from surgery to therapy, groups who simply cleaned floors, electricians restoring wiring, plumbers, car repair crews, engineers of all kinds, ages and abilities...on and on. Really impressive! And they were absolutely everywhere - and needed everywhere.

My Jean is, of course, an added benefit. He flew around my neck when we saw each other at Bois Neuf, and wouldn't let go. (I didn't object).
He is SO adorable and loving. His speech is poor, but I realized that Gladys doesn't speak with him and rattles at high speed all day long. Also discovered that he was excited to learn new words (as in English) and together we named everything we could think of. His pronunciation was suddenly clear, and he remembered almost all of it the following days. He sat with me, played with me, sang with me, talked with me and slept with me. At 4 yrs old, he is a wonderful little kid and still a miracle.
Carl and I are trying to do something that will get him ahead of other kids there, so he will have a better chance to survive the lacking of Haiti. The Haitians who do well in life are all the 'upper crust' with both money and expectations. Jean does not fall into that category.

Daily Life.
Two little (one black, one pink) tiny pigs running up and down the street: in the morning to the right, back to the left in the evening. There must be a market up the road.
When the electricity goes out, no-one bats an eye. Well, you couldn't tell, anyway.
When someone yells at you and you come back with a (funny) comment, everyone roars, including the person. One woman said: gimme money! Gimme food! I responded "when you come to visit me in the USA you will have to bring me money and food, too!" They all thought this was hilarious.
Goats galore.
Roosters who have no concept of time.
TapTaps: pickup trucks for transportation. One tap: stop, Two taps: Go. How many people does a taptap hold: until the last one gets on.
Each taptap has colorful sayings and lots of flowers painted on it, usually like "Psalm 32" (or such), "I love Jesus and my Wife" (common) but the one that was new to me was "Hippocrits For Jesus".

While I was there, we experienced 3-4 other quakes, this time south to north up the coast and under St.Marc. They were about 4.0 and deep, deep under ground. I never felt them, but did wake up at 4am one of the nights, because 3 glasses were shaken off the table and crashed to the ceramic floor.

Your great gifts have gone a long way. In fact: more have come in since I left, which simply means that we can continue to reach out and out, over and over.

The men and women of the OneBigBoost Ayiti team are immensely proud members. It has put them in a new social category, more aware of others' needs and the power they suddenly realize they have. In addition to the food project, they are now organizing their neighborhoods to clean up, and to start with themselves to improve Ayiti, not to expect it to come from the government, because it just doesn't. To start it with them, and with the children, and work their way up.

I will try to post more pictures. Wish me luck ;-) !

I'm going back some time around the 15th, for just 3-5 days to make sure all is well.