HAITI

I don't even know where to begin. I am on my way home from Haiti, currently at Miami airport and my heart and mind are reeling from what I saw and experienced. Even though it is well into the afternoon, "Bonswa" has no place here. This makes me sad, I am not ready to forget the Haitian people. As a matter of fact, I know I never will.

It is hard to describe what went on over the last 2 wks. 2100 patients later, though, I will never be the same. I didn't even take many pictures during the trip, my conscious wouldn't let me. Somehow snapping pictures of someone in the midst of their poverty just didn't seem right. It was just too pitiful, too unfair.

I have traveled to the 3rd world many times, but have seen nothing like this before. I have never felt weak during clinic because of what I was seeing, too sick to finish my lunch because I was thinking of those who go without, or cried after leaving a country because the images still haunt me. Even as I write this I have the familiar lump in my throat. At any moment, if the right person were to give me a hug I know I would weep in their arms for my brothers and sisters in Haiti.

Some of the hardest moments came in seeing the severely malnourished children. Instead of viewing them on TV it became a present reality. Not only did I see the flies on their faces like the television adds, but now I heard them buzzing.

One infant boy lost his mother during child birth and was being raised by his father. At 2 months of age he weighed just over 5 lbs. I carefully picked him up to feed him a bottle, and while rocking him tried unsuccessfully to sing him Jesus Loves You. I couldn't get past the first sentence without tearing up. I still think of him.

The little baby I tried to sing to

Another 15 month old child weighed just under 12 lbs. He just sat there staring as I examined him, too weak to resist. His legs the size of garden hose, his tummy swollen from protein deficiency. Given the extreme states of some of the children we start them on Plumpy Nut, a high calorie peanut butter food supplement to be given 3 times a day in addition to meals. When the package was opened and the little boy saw that it was food, he immediately reached out for the Plumpy Nut and started eating. Myself and the pediatrician both broke down in tears. I had to walk away. Few of us will ever know this kind of hunger. I still think of him as well.

One of the malnourished children eating Plumpy Nut

In addition to the children, most adults we saw were thin and hungry as well. They are a beautiful brown group of walking skeleton people. Never ever forget how blessed we are in the US.

It is commonplace to see amputees from the earthquake hobbling along with worn out crutches, women carrying heavy supplies on their heads, or men pushing large amounts of materials in wheelbarrows up mountains in 90 degree heat.

I will never forget those faces and stares. Nor will I forget the men, women, and children who waited and slept for days outside with the hope of being seen by one of us for medical care. Nor  the woman I saw who walked in ragged flip flops over a mountain (literally a mountain) to come to our clinic. She left at 2 am walking without food or water until 2 pm to see me for less than 15 minutes. She was so grateful and I will not forget her. Nor will I forget how everyone wore their best clothes and hats when they came to see us as a sign of respect. Their best clothes...... many of my patients back home come in their pajamas.

People waiting outside our clinic to be seen

Perhaps the hardest part for me was on the drive to the airport today. As we rode through the capital Port Au Prince, I felt physically sick to my stomach. I caught myself holding my breath because it burned my lungs so bad to breath in the fumes of diesel mixed in with piles upon piles of burning plastic and trash. I felt sick seeing old men digging in mounds of garbage for food, sick that you could see all the bones on the starving dogs, sick that the homes were rebuilt yet still crumbling and cracked, sick that sewage ran in the streets, sick knowing this was reality for thousands of people....sick, sick, sick. I want to vomit, I want to purge my mind of all this but I know I can't and the better part of me says don't, never forget them. I will probably need a good cry when I get home and see Ian. I will probably cry when I talk to my mom.

On the airplane ride from Port Au Prince to Miami I sat next to a Haitian man who will be working on a cruise ship this summer. This is his first time out of his country. I try to speak Creole with him, but his English is much better than my Creole. At one point he asks if I am married. I tell him yes. He is quiet for a moment then asks if an American would ever marry a black man. This catches me off guard at first, but then I remember that his country was founded on the backs of African slaves, that his people still are reaping the consequences of past corrupt governments. Not so strange I tell myself; he has probably always felt his ethnicity and poverty make him second class. I tell him that if a man has a good heart I would marry him regardless of his skin color, after all, it doesn't matter. I tell him that across cultures, borders, languages, and creeds we are all the same. We are all brothers and sisters. Even though I give him a hug, I am still saddened. I will not forget him either.

Two of the Haitian interpreters, Amiee and I. Hughes, my interpreter just finished medical school in the Dominican Republic

With several hours of flying ahead of me I start to think again about our world. I sit watching as people rush to their gates or wait in line at Starbucks. Almost everyone here is on their iPhone. Do they know what is going on in this world?  I cannot blame them, well not totally. I was once the same. It is easier to read about what Kate Middleton is wearing than about global affairs, especially once your conscious gets involved. It is too depressing. Then I think of Haiti. Too depressing for me is nothing compared to the reality that it brings for so many there and all over our world.

I am pointing to Cyvadier, the town where FOTCOH (Friends of the Children of Haiti) is located. 

With technology and travel it has become so small. How then, can so many of us today live totally unaffected by the injustices, poverty, war, and disease of our fellow brothers and sisters? Sure the oil prices may rise and maybe we see something on the news, but in the safety or our well furnished comfortable homes we carry on totally unaffected by "them over there." We forget as Bono says, that there is no them, only us.

As far as humanitarian aid goes, I am proud of our country in being the leader of global donations. I was happy to see several USAID tarps donated by the American people after the earthquake and bags of rice donning the American flag. Along with the presence of UN trucks throughout the country this somewhat softened my rage and disappointment. I think most of the anger though was directed at myself for not being more affected by their situation earlier.

Sadly though for most of us, myself included, as we go about our lives and careers very little of our time, money, and attention is given to the suffering of this world. Did you know that each day there are 30 wars going on? Or that during that same 24 hr period thousands of children die from malnutrition or preventable diseases?

Here's the thing.....the world DESPERATELY needs us to be an expression of God's love. DESPERATELY. While in Haiti I was so moved by the circumstances that I spent much of my morning meditating on gratefulness and love. As a matter of fact, without doing this every morning there is no way I would have made it through the day. Mentally I wouldn't have been strong enough.

I am back in the states now having returned more conflicted than ever. I wonder how long my sadness with last and if I will ever be able to eat a meal again without thinking of my Haitian brothers and sister who are going to be hungry each night. I wonder about Blandine, the girl we sponsor, and her family. Will she think of us as I will her?

Blandine and I 

As I look to the world for answers through my privileged blue eyes I know this about myself: I am not ok with suffering; human and animal alike. My two years in bush Alaska certainly reinforced this. And in working through that experience I realized that not being ok is totally ok. As a matter of fact, not being ok with suffering is what makes us human.

So in knowing this, I had to ask myself "Who am I and who do I choose to be in relation to those who suffer?"

And here's is what I came up with. I am a conduit of love to a broken world, and am an image bearer of something divine. This is true for all of us. And this beautiful Divine demonstrates His love by allowing us to demonstrate ours....Every encounter we have with another person is an opportunity for us to give them a glimpse of what the Creator thinks of them. EVERY encounter we have with each other matters.  I have heard character described as  how you treat those who can do nothing for you. I need to build more character.

Even though many things in my life need a healthy re-evaluation, I know this, I have chosen to change and to pour my inner alabaster jar on the feet of this world. Some may say that I am chasing rainbows but I believe in the hope that those illusions bring. So I will go on chasing the rainbows and hopefully inspire others to go after them as well.

As for Haiti and the Haitian people, I know I will never be the same.

blessings
- Sarah