Running Girls


MK and S

In March I ran my fastest 5K ever. This Saturday I ran my slowest, and it was just as much fun. Plus, I got to wear a rainbow-colored tutu.

The occasion? Girls on the Run (GOTR), a nation-wide program that I should have created. It’s the kind of program I could’ve used as a kid and dreamed of as an idealistic new teacher. I wish I’d had the foresight to see this thing to fruition. This award-winning holistic girl-empowerment program (that just announced partnership with mega athletic girl gear company, Athleta) features self-esteem boosting meetings and activities while simultaneously training for a 5K. Oh, and the girls are in fifth grade.

I wrote about GOTR while living in Bellingham in 2008 (August 26-Sep 2, 2008 issue). Inspired, I tried half-heartedly for a while to find a place for it to blossom on this side of the mountains when we moved back to Wenatchee in 2009. I made some calls up to Chelan, where there had once been a GOTR program. Then I tried to entice the local YMCA, the hospital, and an elementary school PE teacher to no avail. I should have tried harder, but my focus drifted.

When I found out last month that a local GOTR program had formed under the guidance of Columbia Valley Community Health I was thrilled. Unfortunately, between my recent humanitarian trip to Haiti and the GOTR coordinator’s aid trip to Guatemala, I didn’t get to help beforehand like I’d hoped. But I wound up getting to take part in the grand culminating event anyway (translation:  most fun Apple Blossom Festival run ever)–as running buddy to my friend V’s daughter, S.

To run and walk alongside such a rock star kiddo (people, she makes her own videos already!) completing her first official 5K race (she’d already completed the training version with flying colors, of course) was beyond compare. We’d done a short pre-run recess workout the day before. Based on Friday’s dry run I thought we’d be walking nearly the entire race on Saturday. But S did tell me she liked to run, and she proved it on race day when I saw a glimmer of her friendly, competitive streak burst forth. She ran like the wind for spurts; then she slowed down to catch her breath. All the while we talked about favorite books, writing stories, field trips, and summer plans.

On the home stretch I tried to surge ahead to grab an action photo of us on my phone. S surged right along with me, leaping past her peers with ease. In fact, she kept up so well that I only barely managed to get ahead for a photo, an off-kilter one at best. S looks radiant and nonplussed, whereas my expression mirrors the terror I felt during that split second of time, on the verge of ungracefully tripping over myself and in danger of breaking my nose (in full tutu and all). Thank goodness we crossed the finish line together a mere eighth of a mile later, unscathed and giggling.

Action photo

From her pre-race peppy cheers and dance steps (totally my fault since while we waited for the race to start my fake hip hop moves were noticed, I caved to peer pressure, and suddenly found myself choreographing an impromptu Girls on the Dancefloor troupe…), S was an absolute trooper, athlete, and delight. I had a ball and hope she did, too. Maybe next year she’ll be my training partner for my second full marathon? I guess I’ll have to ask her mom for permission.


Projects on the Homefront


I’m definitely still having a hard time readjusting to “normal” life back home in NCW. But immersing myself in great friends, great weather, and great projects keeps me inspired and motivated to keep doing work that’s worthwhile. I’m brainstorming about some exciting big projects, but in the meantime check out my latest writing endeavors. You’ll find tips on green spring cleaning here and information about the best little writing conference in Washington here.



Mountains behind mountains


I think I’ve finally conquered the technical challenges that have prevented me from uploading photos from our recent trip. Go here to bring these stories to life in pictures. It’s been great to hear feedback from folks around town that have been following my blog and the newspaper column. I hope my perspective has helped. It’s been fun to renew my blog and I’m planning on continuing it and peppering it with travel essays and commentary on other events. If you have comments or ideas, please keep them coming!

Stuck Between Worlds


I think I underestimated how difficult reverse culture shock would be. This is not the first time I’ve traveled internationally. This is not the first time I’ve seen such dire conditions. Yet somehow this time seems different. I have glimpsed such enormous needs before and have ached at not being able to help at all or enough. And then time marches on and the need gets ignored somewhat, gets addressed somewhat, but it never goes away completely.

I’m home now and this town feels different. Winter has leaped ahead into spring, the birds are chirping, the wildflowers are in full bloom, time marches on in this sweet little town. It’s great to see friends, it’s nice to talk to family, it’s easy to be home in so many ways. Even the crummiest parts of town look well-kempt and secure. The grocery store and stores in general are overwhelming places to be, with too many choices. It’s hard to relate to legitimate (though first-world) problems people are facing here when I’ve just returned from a place where people may barely eat a meal a day if they’re lucky.

My thoughts are drifting between here and there–images of the hopeful, happy, proud people I met and interacted with keep lingering in my mind–Cesar, Father Tijwa, Sister Ann, Serge, the family across the street, Jenn and Amy of Second Mile Ministries, Treasa at CRUDEM, Julia, Julie, Manuela… How can I help? What more can I do?

I miss the team from Wenatchee, too, and I think I’m not alone in battling this re-entry phase. My inbox is peppered with quick photo swaps and check ins from Rotarians and medical crew alike, just checking in to say hi and to see how things are going. It’s great to have those shared memories and such an intense shared experience. I hope we stay connected, and I hope we can find ways to help together and individually.

This trip has been intense on every level and I will continue to process it. I promise to find a way to share photos at some point soon. There are so many more stories to tell! And so many ways to help! Just being there, caring about people, and listening to their ideas showed me how important that first step is. It’s remarkable how far a simple human connection can go despite language, cultural, class, religious, and racial differences.

I’m still figuring my own best actions out, and I’m already plotting my return trip. In the mean time, here are some links to places with more information and more ways to help if you are so inclined. I saw firsthand the work each of these organizations is doing and I wholly support these groups: (These two young women are incredible visionaries and it is inspiring to listen to them. Be sure to check out their latest blog entry about a teenager with Type One Diabetes. One of our medical team members treated her and was instrumental in getting aid for her. Along with several women from our team, I enjoyed a very worthwhile shopping trip through town gathering clothes, food, and toiletries for this young woman.) (This remarkable organization has made Hopital Sacre Coeur in Milot the top medical facility in Haiti over the past 25 years. The immense generosity and teamwork displayed by visiting and local medical, support, and Catholic personnel is incredible.) (This children’s home is run by two practically youngsters themselves! Nick and Nicki are young twenty-somethings from Washington who have sacrificed a lot to live in Haiti for the long haul. They have a clear vision and thanks to a lot of support have been able to achieve a lot.)


My remaining days in Haiti were blurred with hikes to historic fortresses and jungle hillsides; conducting casual interviews with locals to cram my head full of perspectives on government corruption, post-earthquake Haiti, business ideas, religion, and the future; tutoring in English and German; and gophering around the hospital.

By the end of the second week, most of the team seemed ready to head home. It’s no surprise, since the work had been chaotic and exhausting, with the medical team handling 71 cases in nine days. They received accolades from the CRUDEM staff and should be immensely proud of the work they provided to a very appreciative patient group. Many patients would have never received necessary healthcare without the generosity of these physicians and support staff. For some, their presence was a life and death matter.

While my work in Haiti wasn’t nearly as important or concrete, it proved a successful introduction expedition. The massive hurdles Haiti faces are overwhelming, but focusing one’s time and money on one single project can make an enormous difference. Mike Poirier from the Rotary group is passionate about Father Tijwa’s community programs. Wenatchee’s Laura Monda chooses to focus her energies on sharing her loving ways with the kids at Children of the Promise. I haven’t quite found my focus yet, but I have had a crash course overview of Milot’s endless needs.

I come home full of ideas, confusion, frustration, sadness, and more questions than answers. But I am also filled with wonder and appreciation of how Haiti somehow “makes it work.” I’ve learned that Haiti is full of stark, sturdy, stoic, happy people; gorgeous, tropical landscape and delicious (but scarce) food.

On our last group hike in Milot, Dr. Jeff Monda asked me why I came to Haiti. I came to see what there was to see, to bite into a slice of another culture. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I guessed I would see global inequality, and I wanted to learn how I could help in the moment and from home. I am not religious, but I do feel a call to serve wherever I am because I believe it is right, natural, and to everyone’s benefit to help the collective community.

Jeff’s niece, Mallory Monda, described visiting Haiti as coming “to feed the soul.” I think that’s an added benefit, sure, but it wasn’t a prime motivation or expectation. Rosedanie Cadet, the Haitian-American who visited the Rotary group prior to our departure for Haiti, said, “Feed their bellies, feed their minds.”  I tried to feed some Haitian bellies, and I hope I gave a few people some food for thought, too. But my own soul is filled with respect, awe, and hope for Haiti.

I’m home now but stuck in a bleary-eyed, netherworld somewhere between Haiti and Washington. I’m exhausted and congested but am healthy, safe, and used up in a good way. It’s a lot to soak in, and I’m still processing it. How can we best live and serve and address our unfair advantages when we’ve stared such poverty in the face? I hope that together we can continue building a nourishing and more connected, egalitarian, healthy world, one person at a time. My actions can speak louder now than my words.

Hazy Reflections on Haiti

One Last Haitian Update

Being here on my own floating between teams and projects has been fun. It’s amazing to see how friendly people are throughout town. Rather than being accosted frequently by pushy vendors, I have seen more of the regular life day-to-day living. I feel a little like Belle from Beauty and the Beast greeting people with “Bonjour, Bonjour, Bonjour, Bonjour, Bonjour…” through town. But people are so nice–greeting me back, saying “thank you very much,” “you’re very nice,” “you’re so pretty,” etc.
Monday I finally had a chance to spend time at the hospital. It was amazing to see both urology and ortho cases. I finally had an opportunity to see John at work! Jeff and Hank were awesome to let me watch their surgeries and talk me through each one. It was cool to see Dave and John explain their anesthesia machines and roles, as well. I also apparently hit it off with the nurses and nursing students, too. We created our own language between Kreole, French, and English. The translators were interested, too.
Monday I also taught Dr. Previl’s daughters, Sarah (9) and Jade, (5). They are cute and Sarah’s English is really good, but I feel a little conflicted about teaching the hospital CEO’s privileged children (who don’t even speak Kreole).
And I had a nice visit with Cesar, the young artist who lives on the loop and Donni and I visited with on Easter Sunday. I really wanted to buy a painting from him because he’s a sweet guy and because I feel his artwork is the most original that we’ve seen here. I tried to convey to him why we like his work so much and that I hope he can help inspire other young artists in Milot.
Though some of the vendors and people in town can be annoying asking for money, really when you take the time to get to speak with people, they are usually nice and real. I had a wonderful banter session the other day with a few sellers–Julie, Henri, Charlotte, Serge… “How much do you want for the woman?” I said to Julie and embarrassed myself. They have all responded well to me. I really think Julie should be in charge of business in the town–Father Tijwa’s Julia is pretty solid, too. When I told Julie that she should talk to Father Tijwa and I thought she was a good businessperson, she kissed my cheek and told me she loved me.
I’ve had such wonderful conversations with folks. From long-term employees like Treasa and Oscar to short term volunteerrs like Haitian-American nurse, Jackie, and locals like Father Tijwa, people have been really open and fabulous to talk to.
Today as usual has been full. I had an awesome morning with Father Tijwa–breakfasting, practicing German for two full hours, and then meeting with the ladies from the artist workshop. That was so cool. They were very appreciative of the support that Rotary was providing and they applauded me. I applauded them. To be there during Father Tijwa’s update was really special. Father Tijwa told me that I and people like me are what are helpful here.
I’ve had good conversations with Treasa and Jackie today about their long-term perspectives. Jackie is such  good resource for the CRUDEM staff. Since she knows both cultures and both medical environments, they should really be open to her suggestions. Such simple solutions yet not done–like curtains to divide in the recovery room, do not need to cost much but can help preserve a patient’s dignity. Jackie thinks that what white people observe is about 75% accurate. Yes, some people will always want something from you–and from her, too, since they view her as successful and rich now that she lives in the US–but it’s been good to see past the annoyingly aggressive vendors and to have some nicer one-on-one interactions with people who seem genuinely nice.
Probably the most appreciative people I have seen were the family across the street from the hospital who Treasa, Jackie and I visited after lunch. They are very poor and have five children–including twin girls and only a few of the kids can afford to go to school, for only part of the time. We brought coloring books, crayons, hairbands, pencils and sharpeners to the kids and they just beamed. It was a very special moment.
I spent the afternoon at the hospital, watching Jeff do a TURP, watching John and Dave work their anesthesia magic, and watching Hank deal with an arm injury from a tap tap. It was incredible to finally get to see what my husband does for a living! Suddenly intubations, propofol, the anesthesia machine…all the references made sense!
Of course John was very helpful teaching me about every step. And the TURP electric knife and camera setup is unbelievable.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see John do a circumcision that Jeff let him do, but it was fun to see him excited about it. It was also good to get him out of the OR a bit for a walk through the market and to town. It’s been a full schedule, and it doesn’t help to get bad news from home about a relative’s health.
Through a combination of English, French, Kreole and pantomime, the nurses, students and I have been communicating pretty well. They are super interested in everything I do. Georges was eager for my Kreole cheat sheet, and I was happy to share it.
Last night was pretty low-key, which was nice. We drank some Prestige lager and too much red wine, had a fun Tabata workout before dinner, and stayed up too late talking. This medical group of 13 has been fabulous–all of them. I will really miss the group dynamic. How often can a group of so many get together and not have one spoiled egg in the bunch? Elaine, Donni, Kelly, Jenny, Mallory, Fred, Jeff, Hank, Dave, Dave, Jim and John have been so fun to be around. They keep telling me how amazing it’s been that I’ve interacted so much with the locals and have made such a difference here, but really they are the ones who have been doing amazing work. It’s great to see their patients appreciating their work so much, as well.
Today has been good so far, but I’m pretty sleepy and may take a siesta soon. The day started out well with an early morning email from Rufus letting me know the Town Toyota tax passed with flying colors. After a yummy breakfast (grapefruit, bananas, spicy eggs) I did Pilates and yoga and then followed the crew up to the hospital. First I gave blood (!) and then I spent the morning in surgeries. Apparently type A is especially in demand, so I was glad I could give my A+. Later Dave W was asking about my blood type and I mentioned I was Type A. He joked, “Yeah, I know, but what about your blood type?” Ha.
This morning’s cases were fascinating to watch. I saw John intubate a guy who had prostate surgery in the US last year and whose stents have been in ever since. Jeff spent 3 hours today operating to remove the stone-ridden stents, and this was on top of the previous surgery he had earlier in the week. And this is the guy from Miami who is abusing the system. They weren’t too happy. Watching John use the glidescope to intubate was intriguing–the wonders of technology are ready at work. It looks like they’re playing video games when they use these things.
It was good to spend more time in Hank’s room, too. I was in for a femur infection case on a pretty young kid. I couldn’t believe how he just opens up so deeply and scrapes away at the bone–and then sews and staples it all up so quickly. Amazing stuff. I’d never be able to do this kind of thing at home. It’s awesome to shadow these guys.
It’s weird that the time here is winding down. We have one more afternoon and one full day and then we’re off to Florida Friday morning. Tomorrow I’ll meet and videotape Father Tijwa and hopefully the ladies (for Jeff O) and I’ll maybe try to meet again with Dr. Previl’s girls. We have a few more purchases to make and bonding at “home,” and then we’ll pay our tips and departure fees and jet on homeward. I am full of ideas, some confusion, some frustration, a whole lot of questions, wonder, appreciation, and awe at how Haiti somehow “makes it work.” I’m inspired by Father Tijwa, Jackie, Cesar, Treasa, Jeff Monda, Mike Poirier, Jen and Amy at Second Mile Ministries, Sisters Ann and Maureen, Nick and Nicki at Children of the Promise…I’ve learned what a gorgeous country Haiti is with stark, sturdy, stoic people, tropical landscape and delicious (but scarce) food–I come back with more questions than answers and the Haiti situation is daunting, but I come back carrying with me much respect and hope for Haiti.
A nap took me yesterday afternoon and then I wandered up to the hospital to watch Hank do a tibia repair. Donni got to scrub in and help fasten the titanium rods, which was awesome for her. When they were done working a bunch of us went on a ridge line hike to get a sweeping panoramic view of Milot, the ocean, the Great Ocean of the North, and the palace. A Haitian proverb says Haiti has one mountain after another, and the dense jungle hike reminded me of that. We climbed steeply through the canopy and above and then descended again–at various stages passing banana, coconut, pineapple, cashed, an herbal flower for tea, ferns, many wildflowers, kombo beans, mangoes, etc. I showed Father Tijwa photos of Hawaii the other day and he said it looked just like Haiti. It’s true, but with more infrastructure and less poverty.
On the way down from the mountain we stopped at a village for Dave to distribute soccer balls and jerseys that Megan at WHS had collected. It was incredible to witness the excitement these kids exhibited when given a couple of balls. I could tell how excited and proud Dave was to distribute them.
Last night after dinner (I will really miss some of the delicious food, like the spicy onion salad dressing, rice and beans, french toast and grapefruit–and Prestige lager–we sat around talking and then I rounded with the doctors and Donni. It was pretty chaotic at night mores than even the day, I think.
I checked in a little with John, too. He’s exhausted, but it’s been a rewarding experience for him and I know he already wants to return. It was cool that Dr. Previl said that our team is one of if not the best that comes down here–and that the anesthesia team is definitely the best. So cool.
Finally, though, I spent the end of the evening playing dice with Jeff, Mallory, Elaine, Kelly, Fred, and Treasa. It’s always Jeff’s ruse to get people in talking. He and I sat for a long while talking about things here–our most significant moments here (mine was giving to the family across the way; his was being with the family and dying child with John), what keeps him coming back, and the issues at hand with Haiti, the orphanages, etc.
The group ultimately also talked about animal welfare, animals as sentient beings, and where humans are on the evolutionary process and path towards extinction, what else might be out there to do us in eventually, and the fate of our planet as a whole and whether it helps to do anything to try to help.
Jeff put me on the spot a little and I told him I was mulling things over. In truth, the conversation was depressing me. I thought about it a lot during the night and then again this morning as I sat in mass with Jeff and Mallory. On the way home I shared with him that while I agree with many of the thoughts discussed, that humans probably will become extinct someday and the planet is going to pot, I still hold out hope and it makes sense to me to battling these things. I guess then it entwined with my thoughts on Haiti, helping in general, and even religion. I feel it’s very individual. I don’t need the structure of religion to tell me what to do or help. I see many problems here and at home and can become overwhelmed by them and paralyzed. Or I can choose one small focus and know I am doing some bit. What is my motivation? It just needs to get it done. And any appreciation they have and any emotional reward and gain is a happy bonus. I admire the traditions and beliefs and hope that religion can convey to some people, and I am envious sometimes of people’s organized and group faith to help them keep their hope. But I don’t subscribe to any one belief and I choose to reflect, meditate, create peace and respect and tradition in my own personal way–taking from religion and not. It is, as Jeff says, the “less bad of the options.” I see too much division and not enough community often with religion, yet when I see people like Father Tijwa and Sister Ann, I have to know absolutely that there is definite good to come from it, too.
Now we are on the verge of our last Tabata and of course today has been another fabulously filled day to round out the full trip. I had a full two hour intensive lesson again with Father Tijwa, who also spouted to me about his thoughts on corrupt government, liberation theology, and empowering communities. He stressed that it’s important to not be too radical in change–slowly things will develop into something better. He is such a sweet man, and it has been a pleasure getting to know him.
I had fun videotaping the ladies of the art workshop for some extra footage for Jeff and Oly’s production. The ladies thought it was pretty fun, too. And my last walk through town was a fun blend of greetings, produce purchasing, and photographing dogs for Teresa to document for her animal welfare projects. I then had a good conversation with Joseph the interpreter at the hospital about good quality grammar lessons for learning foreign languages, and then I visited for 45 minutes or so with the vendor, Serge, who told me all of his thoughts on the politics in Haiti, politics of the hospital, the role of American volunteers throughout Haiti post-earthquakie, the role of voodoo in the local culture, how family life is constructed here, etc. It was cool to see the looks on passing students’ faces when they saw me sitting at the vendor shop chatting away with Henri and Serge.
This afternoon I enjoyed being a sort of gopher at the hospital, helping Hank with a casting, running errands for Donni, and visiting with the nurses and translators. Everyone has enjoyed their stay and a lot of good work has been done, including 71 cases, but we are ready to go home. CRUDEM has been impressed with our group’s work, calling the medical team one of the top if not THE top team that comes down here. They also said that our anesthesia team is the best there is.
Then Donni, Hank, Dave Hyde and I had one last Tabata workout with the onlooker security guards, and we enjoyed one last meal of tomatoes, bread, spicy onion dressing, spaghetti. Now we’re chilling with my super-secret popcorn and Haitian creme cookie stash, some cassava bread and Prestige beer, and probably some rum and one last dice game. The group is collectively subdued, I’d say, glad to be done with their last cases and rounds, packing their stuff up, and getting ready for the re-entry phase to the first world.
I will miss this group a lot. I did not know many of these people, medical and Rotary members, very well at all before coming here. It has been a wonderful two-weeks of bonding. I can say firsthand that the Wenatchee medical crew is a top-notch set of individuals, professionally and personally. And I can say that despite the uphill battle that the western hemisphere’s poorest nation faces, what I see of Haiti is nothing but beauty.



APRIL 15, 2012

Yesterday was yet another day with a week’s worth of experiences. We hiked up to the Citadelle La Ferriere, the largest fortress in the western Hemisphere and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Both the Citadelle and San-Souci Palace at the foot of the mountain in the town of Milot (also a UNESCO World Heritage Site) were built by Henri Christophe, who was prominent in the Haitian revolution in the late 1700s and became the self-proclaimed president of northern Haiti when the country gained independence from France in 1804.

Christophe patterned his palace on San Souci Palace in Germany. Its expansive buildings were heavily damaged during a great earthquake in 1842, but the grounds and ruins are still quite impressive.

The Citadelle was truly a sight to see. Hiking the five mile or so steep cobblestone path up and down the mountain ensured appreciation for the way the supplies for this giant complex were transported (originally and again more recently for renovations like the 50,000 handmade clay tiles that our guide Michel fired and hand formed in 1985 in his kiln adjacent to our CRUDEM home.) People still live and farm on the side of the trail. We were frequently entertained by local children drumming and playing wooden flutes.

The views and structure atop the mountain were incredible. Too bad Christophe never got to see his mountaintop compound completed. Civil unrest mounted during the early 1800s. Rather than facing a probable revolt, Christophe chose to instead end his own life by shooting himself–either in the palace or the Citadelle, no one quite knows for sure. He remains buried somewhere on the Citadelle grounds.

When we returned from our big hike, a few of us exercised some more and then most people enjoyed a low-key Sunday afternoon off. Nurse Kelly DeWolf, and Teresa Smith (a CRUDEM employee) joined me for an appointment I had across town with Father Tijwa. That little man is just about the cutest guy on Earth. Some people have personalities that are simply universally-appealing. He is one of them. Despite language, cultural, religious and political differences, he plows through everything, melting everyone’s heart along the way. He is a gentle and kind soul. The work he does here for the Milot community, through his school, parish, women’s craft workshop–along with his Catholic leadership regionally in the Archdiocese in Cap Haitien reaches around the world.

Father Tijwa reminds me of my dearly departed “adopted grandma,”Happy Warren. Happy was my first German teacher in junior high. She was the first to take me to Germany and she was largely responsible for carving my deep interests in all languages and cultures (but German specifically), international education, and finding global connections everywhere. I feel like Happy’s spirit is still alive when I meet people like Father Tijwa. The analogy to my favorite German teacher comes full circle tomorrow when I begin tutoring Father Tijwa in German (he speaks ein bisschen alreeady).



**A combination of busy days and technical challenges have prevented me from posting pictures recently. I will post more when I can, but in the mean time make sure you’re watching the fabulous short videos Jeff and Oly have made. You can watch them at: or**

APRIL 11, 2012

Today was a full day for sure. Mike Poirier, Laura Monda, and I went out to Likere, the village where Patrick lives and where the Rotary is placing their main water filter and building. We took a pickup truck out, which was a fun way to explore the countryside in slow motion. Laura and I gave hair ties, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soccer balls to the local school, which is the same one where people came out in droves for us the other day. The villagers there are so friendly. I visited with Patrick’s wife. She wanted me to adopt a child here.

In the afternoon we went on a walk to the market and near the palace. The market was a fascinating place full of raw meat, smoked fish, grains, popcorn, oats, pasta and beans. I was surprised to see so much produce: cilantro, onions, garlic, grapefruit, yams, beets, tomatoes, bananas, oranges, plantains… The selection was wide and I was told that all of the food is very local. Some women hike in for miles with their wares on their head. When Mike gave a dollar for bananas, they wanted to give him bunches and bunches.

The food here is quite tasty, I find. The onions are the spiciest I’ve encountered, I don’t normally like grapefruit but the ones here are delicious. The bananas are small and sweet like in Hawaii, and we’ve tried juicy, sweet pineapple here, too. Our meals usually consist of spicy rice and beans, some form of meat, and a salad. We’ve had french toast, oatmeal, and eggs for breakfast. Some of the flavor combinations are unexpected and delicious, like spicy onion salad dressing, spiced peanut butter, and anise-coconut oatmeal.

As with most things here, the plan is often evolving and appointments shift frequently. We continued our walk up to the palace, but it got quite rainy when we arrived, and we decided to take shelter at Father Tijwa’s house. Of course he took our group (Mike and Libbie Poirier, Laura and Alisa Monda, Kayla Fix, and Kelly DeWolf) in and we wound up having an impromptu wonderful business meeting. Libbie set up her own microfinance program through Father Tijwa and met Marjorie, a 22 year old woman who wants to start her own business. Libbie was inspired to help out and had saved money from teaching piano to do so. That night she presented her program to the medical team. She was so inspiring that by the evening’s end she had gathered over $1000 of support.

APRIL 12, 2012

It was another full day. The Rotarians and I met with Father Tijwa again to visit his church’s school, and the medical group walked through Michel’s garden in the afternoon. The garden was more like a spot in the jungle with a bunch of sweet potatoes, bananas, mangoes and avocados intermixed. Michel knew where everything was, though, and his cousin Joseph harvested several sweet potatoes for us to have for a meal later. We had a very cultural evening. First Jeff Ostensen hired a band to play at the soccer field. Then the Rotary treated us to a cultural night at Lakou Lakay Cultural Center here in Milot. The band element was completely surreal. We traipsed out to the far edge of the local soccer field where a band called Leya was playing. The band consisted of 15 or so hot pink t-shirt clad young men with mostly homemade instruments (galvanized metal trumpets, PVC-pipe horns, drums and shakers). Next to the band stood a large group of local young men staring seriously. (I dubbed one suave looking fellow a Haitian from Black Eyed Peas). Downfield a cow grazed and the whole while we were there a soccer match was occurring.

Donni, Libbie and I went over to the Haitian young men and tried to get them to dance but they were shy. Eventually one guy stepped out and showed us some extravagant moves. We joined in for a bit but when his moves turned a little complicated, we backed away. Libbie approached the guys again at the end of the set with no luck, but finally a woman danced with her. It was quite a show.

The cultural show that the Rotarians arranged was surreal in its own right but was also very nice. We learned a little about komba and vou dou dancing, heard call and response singing and drumming, and ate tasty regional specialties. It was very professionally done. The surreal part was when a large group of locals stood behind us while we were eating our fancy meal. It made most of us quite uncomfortable and reminded me completely of OXFAM’s Hunger Banquet, which is a program that reflects the global inequities of food distribution. We were much happier when the locals stayed for the entertainment. They obviously enjoyed the singing and dancing, and they went absolutely bonkers when Father Tijwa was pulled up on stage to strut his stuff.

APRIL 13, 2012

Friday the 13th lived up to its name. After an exciting day at the hospital yesterday (in which an OR bed caught on fire), we thought we’d used up our bad luck on the 12th. But there was plenty of good luck, too.

I accompanied the Rotarians to Limbe, Rosedanie Cadet’s hometown. Rosedanie is the Haitian woman who met with us before we left the US. She now lives on Orcas Island and has started an organization, Helping Hands Noramise, in her hometown. We visited the organization’s community house, gardens, and school. The 1 1/2 hour drive from Milot to Limbe was very insightful. We saw the hustle and bustle of grimy Cap Haitien; the quaint, simple, primitive huts among rice paddies, pasture land, hillside terraces; burned out old factories; and we even caught a glimpse of Labadee, the Royal Caribbean International Cruise Line’s private faux island port. Labadee is a curious-sounding place. Apparently the cruise line was outed in the ’90s for not telling passengers they were going to Haiti. They only called the port Labadee, Hispaniola. (Hispaniola is the island that encompasses Haiti and the Dominican Republic.) More recently Royal Caribbean has received flak for sending ships to Labadee directly after the 2010 earthquake. It was difficult to grasp how people could possibly be snorkeling, kayaking, and enjoying fancy cocktails just a few miles away from the town after town of flooded, dilapidated shacks receiving US AID that we passed between Cap Haitien and Limbe.

The real adventure happened on our way home. As we approached Cap Haitien we noticed a police blockade. There were several policemen in full SWAT uniforms, carrying semi-automatic weapons. They were checking car registration papers. Unfortunately, ours were not in order. This meant the police seized our vehicle and we were left stranded for a while on the side of the road. We had no idea how long we’d be waiting. Despite a long, uncertain wait, everyone in our group was reasonably calm throughout the event. I really wished that I could know the other group members’ inner monologues at the time, though. I personally went into survivalist mode a little in my head, glad I’d paid enough attention to where I was that I could’ve found my way to an English speaking institution not too far away if I had to, happy that I had hours of daylight left if I needed to walk all the way to Milot if I needed to do so. Fortunately, though, CRUDEM sent another vehicle and we wound up waiting for only a couple of hours.

The rest of the day was far less eventful. John and I ran the vendor gauntlet between the hospital and our housing area. We purchased a few items. The vendors here are incredibly aggressive. Everyone says they want to be your friend, you are their son or daughter, or that Jeff Monda is their “chief”. John says he’s impressed by how much English people speak for not having any formal training. In the evening, most of us stayed up late visiting, playing dice, and enjoying 3-star rum and coke.

APRIL 14, 2012

This morning the Rotarians left and many of us did another “moving” (workout) session. To finish, John, nurse Jennifer Gehringer, and I went for a run around the village. We joked that people pay a lot of money for mud runs like we had on the side of the muddy dirt road, dodging motor bikes and tap taps. But the joke was really on us, as the few villagers who spotted us seemed to react to our running with varying degrees of wonderment. We definitely provided some morning entertainment for the town, though, as we attracted triple the number of observers on our way back to the compound. It almost looked like they were cheering us on in a race. But their faces seemed to reflect bewilderment.

After lunch we headed into Cap Haitien in a local tap tap. That was an experience in itself. We packed 17 people into this converted pick up truck with bench seats, abuzz with loud music and flashy colors. It was the perfect way to see Cap.

Cap Haitien makes Milot look like a quaint upscale mountain village. This bustling city is the second largest in Haiti. It is filthy, crowded, and full of traffic patterns that look like absolute mayhem (a woven pattern of tap taps, “moto” bikes, trucks, and whatever else can squeeze in) but somehow work. In fact, Haiti in general seems to be like that in many ways. The situation may be challenging–with trash piles everywhere and streets and shops in disarray–but somehow people here make it work.

In Cap we first made a stop at a tourist market, which was a series of 75 weathered stalls that had obviously been built a long time ago for cruise ships that never come anymore. The artwork and jewelry the vendors were selling was worth seeing, but what was really stirring was the view. The shops were oceanfront, and the salty air, sea breeze, and palm trees almost looked like any other seaside town. But as we walked out a little further we could see that instead of pristine white sand there was a beach full of garbage, mounds and mounds of it. Trash was strewn literally all throughout the beach and it was floating in the waves for almost as far as we could see. Eventually we could see blue water way out on the horizon, but it was a stretch to see. Standing in that spot viewing the trash beach, hearing vendors begging us to spend a dollar on their necklaces, and eying the tattered homes up and down the hillside I was overcome by sadness. This place could be a beautiful seaside city. This country should be touted for its natural scenery, its friendly faces, its gorgeous people. Instead, it seems in so many ways like we’re visiting another planet. Things here, though functional, are so tough to see. People seem very happy, but I’m still conflicted about what the solution is for Haiti.

We rounded out our visit to the big city with the complete antithesis to the trashy beach. We visited the Hotel du Roi Christophe, a high end hotel and restaurant that caters to foreigners and wealthy Haitians. It was the prettiest place I’ve seen in this country. It was a grand, colorful establishment with tree-filled grounds, a pool, and fancy artwork. We sat there and enjoyed the peaceful, relaxed ambience with rum punch. We visited for a long while, and when we left I spoke with an American electrical worker who complained about the rooms in this hotel. If he only knew…

Tomorrow we will hike to the Citadel, which is one of two UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the area. The members of the group who have been here before have talked it up so much, I can’t wait to see what the day will bring.



APRIL 9, 2012

It seems like weeks of experiences have occurred, and yet I’ve only just had lunch! We had an incredible deluge all of yesterday afternoon and night. Sister Maureen even said the crackling thunder and lightning is unlike anything they have seen in quite a while. I was hoping night one’s good night sleep wasn’t a fluke, and it wasn’t. Unfortunately, though, John and a few other doctors were called upon during the night. The outcome was sad, especially knowing that the patient’s father had visited with John at length about his child just after we arrived. Apparently John handled the very stressful and emotional situation in a gentle, pure manner using his broken Spanish. I was proud to hear that.

I went with the Rotary group this morning to Patrick’s village, about 20 minutes from Milot. Patrick used to be a student associated with the hospital, and his village is where the Rotary is building a structure and water filter for an existing well. The children of the village were tentative at first but then came out in droves to pose for photos (they’re so excited to glimpse themselves in our digital finders) and eventually to sing, sing, sing. It never ceases to amaze me to see how happy and creative children can be with really a very simple existence.

Some of us left the well workers for an hour or more and went to Children of the Promise, which is a children’s home (kind of like an orphanage but the goal is to get the kids back living with their biological families) that Laura Monda’s cousin’s daughter randomly runs. The directors, Nicki Stolberg and her husband, Nick, are from Washington, are in their early 20s, and have been here for two years. They are pretty incredible. It was amazing to see the ambition they have to expand the complex—besides caring for children from infancy to age 4, they have a nutrition program, they’ve started enhancing their follow-up care, they basically function as an urgent care clinic, they’ve created their own medical records system, and in trying to enhance the psychological care of the kids, they are working on establishing adoptive foster-care type volunteers to create a pseudo-family environment. For Nicki and Nick, this is their calling and their experiences and abilities are well beyond their years.

We came back to CRUDEM for lunch and had some down time before going to visit with Father Joachim Roboam Anantua, the priest at Milot’s main Catholic church. Father Tijwa, as he’s known, is a local hero doing some great work to enhance the lives of women, students, and all of the people of Milot. It was incredibly inspirational to visit with him and to hear more about the microfinance program that Rotary started last year. I was impressed that Julie, one of the employees in a women’s art workshop, has been able to collect all of the initial loans of $50 that were given out to ten women last year. The group brainstormed about whether to increase their loans as an incentive to those women and how to reward Julie for her work. Julie had devised an organized system to collect and distribute money between the women in the workshop and she brought solid ideas forth for the improvement of the entire system.

It was impressive to see how much Father Tijwa is respected in the community, “more than the mayor,” according to Rotarian, Sue Long. He has the biggest home (which felt like going back in time inside, rather like historic homes on the East Coast feel, with wide planked wooden floors, brightly colored walls, iconographic artwork, substantial wooden carved furniture, and a distinctive Caribbean flair.)

After the official meeting, Rotarian Mike Poirer and I stayed for a bit to visit a little with Father Tijwa and discuss some project ideas. What a wonderful surprise to find that Father Tijwa speaks a little German! I happened to catch him say, “Ich bin sehr muede” and I responded in German to his surprise. I asked him a few more questions auf Deutsch and he looked a little embarrassed. I asked in English whether he spoke much German and he said that he started the lessons but lost the cassette in the middle of the first level. He said it was very unusual for him to meet someone here who speaks German. I have noticed. My Deutsch is not as handy for these Kriol, French, and Spanish speakers. John’s broken Spanish has already proved quite useful, and we are all impressed with the vendors’ abilities to pick up key business English phrases such as “I will make you a bracelet with your name on it,” “Jeff Monda is my friend,” and “I have very nice items for sale in my shop.” The most assertive vendors linger around the hospital and approach us in a very friendly (though aggressive) manner. Many of them seem to have adapted their names to English versions, such as Johnny and Charlie, My favorite interaction recently was with Mike’s daughter, Libbie, who is a sophomore at Wenatchee High School. One vendor approached her with a bracelet with the name “Jeff” on it. The vendor (Johnny, I think) told Libbie it was for her father. “Jeff’s not my father,” Libbie replied. “Well, you should buy it for Jeff anyway and I’ll make another for you,” Johnny cleverly suggested.

APRIL 10, 2012

The heat and rain and bugs were getting to me yesterday and I had a rather nasty headache for quite a while. I slept horribly, too, and am glad today (Tuesday) is so far a lighter day.  I will go with the Rotary group to deliver coloring books to a local school in a little while, and I walked through town for a bit with Laura, Alisa, and Kayla earlier.

My head has been swirling with ideas—confusion and awe at the role the Rotarians have here, discomfort with certain vendors lobbying funds from me, not knowing how it’s best to help here, fearing I’m not doing enough here or at home…and the overwhelming experience yesterday of holding a sweet little girl at Children of the Promise who didn’t let me put her down. An employee had to yank her off of me. I didn’t expect to be so emotionally affected in such a short time.

We delivered soccer balls and cleats on behalf of the medical team (part of the Headers for Haiti program) as well as books and crayons that the Rotarians brought, to Madame Appelis’ school yesterday. It was fun to see school finally in session after the Easter holidays. The children everywhere light up with smiles and giggles, songs and clapping when we’re around, and their energy is infectious. But as Libbie, Mike and I wandered back to CRUDEM with empty suitcases (we had packed the soccer equipment in suitcases for transport and to avoid a mob scene—soccer is immensely popular here) it was hard to pass by the poorer children in the neighborhoods who were not attending school (all schools are privately run and families must pay to send kids to school) and realize that they wouldn’t receive such goodies as easily. Libbie impressed us with her sophisticated thoughts on the subject. She feels the students at the school are already receiving a lot and she wants to find a way to address the needs of kids who are not in school. We are working on a plan for that with Sister Ann’s help.

Sister Ann is incredible. This tough Dublin-raised nun shared some of her amazing life adventures with us last night. Since she was 7 or 8 she has always known she wanted to “help the sick people in Africa.” She has been committed to that goal ever since, even when her mother discouraged her at first and wouldn’t let her leave home when Sr. Ann said she was ready at age 15. Her mother made her wait until she was 21. Since becoming a nun, Sister Ann has spent her life helping people in several countries of Africa (including a stint working as a midwife in the forest for seven years); in Eastern Europe; and, since 2009, in Haiti.

Here in Haiti Sister Ann seeks out those who are most in need and helps them. Whether it’s serving as a midwife, teaching dental hygiene habits to stubborn kids or putting shoes on children’s feet, she makes it a point to give hope and skills to people in a most authentic way. When asked how she spends a typical day, Sister Ann told Laura Monda that she wanders the outskirts of town just looking for kids who are the neediest and finding ways to help them.

In the afternoon, Libbie and Mike Poirer and I visited the prosthetics lab, of which I’m thoroughly impressed. The lab was created by one of the other US doctors who routinely visits CRUDEM, Dr. John Lovejoy. He saw a need for prosthetics just after the earthquake and quickly realized that the need would be ongoing. He helped get funding together for the lab, tools, staff, a training program, and they will soon break ground on an adjoining physical therapy center.

The lab is managed by Oscar, a bright young El Salvadoran native who first came to Haiti to work in Port-au-Prince just after the 2010 earthquake. Oscar is charged with many duties in the lab. Besides creating and fitting patients with prosthetics and orthotics, he is training two local students in prosthetics. The students are taking part in the first certification program of its kind here in Haiti. Once they finish their combination distance learning and practical instruction they will have international certification, as well. The idea is for them to eventually take over the lab themselves and to continue teaching the skill to new students thereafter.

I will be spending more time in the hospital next week shadowing our team and observing cases when fewer visitors are around, but already I’m really enjoying the opportunity to have a closer look at the medical system. It’s quite a dance process they have going on, with local Haitian doctors and nurses mingling with the visiting specialist team. The general surgeon here is an engaging young physician, Dr. Sisi, from Guinea Bissau in western Africa. Like most medical personnel practicing in Haiti, Dr. Sisi trained in Cuba. When a visiting medical crew is here, his surgeries are set aside unless an emergency occurs. As a medical professional, I imagine that stop and go routine would become tedious, but Dr. Sisi insisted he likes the change of pace.

Yesterday a new angle on medical tourism and ethics popped up. Curiously, a patient had been obviously treated for his problem in the US. When questioned about it, the patient explained that he is Haitian-American and lives in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Since he does not currently have medical insurance, it was apparently cheaper for him to fly to Haiti, stay with family members, and pay for services at CRUDEM than to deal with the situation in Florida. I couldn’t help but think of what a sad comment that is on the state of health care in our country. I also couldn’t help but think of what a clever abuse of the system had just taken place.