Cholera in Haiti

A few nights ago I was talking to a friend of mine from Haiti on Facebook Chat. He asked me if I had heard about the Cholera outbreak in Haiti. Nothing had reached the news at that point. Of course the next morning I woke up to find a New York Times article about the Cholera Outbreak. On Friday morning the New York Times said on its Haiti Recovery page that it wasn’t a disaster at this point, yet by Saturday afternoon there were fears of it becoming a disaster as the disease continues to spread and more people get sick. As of this morning (Sunday) there are reports of Cholera cases in Port au Prince.

Just in case you do not know, Cholera is cause by a bacterial infection in the small intestines and is usually spread through contaminated food and water. In this case it is thought the disease started due to contamination of Haiti’s Artibonite River. Since the

earthquake thousands of people have used this water source for their washing and cooking. According to one of the seminarians I worked with, it is still very difficult to access clean water so even though they know they are risking getting sick they might not have any other option.

(Photo from the New York Times)

While there were fears after the earthquake about disease epidemics, until now there have been none. It’s also the first time in a century that Cholera has been reported in Haiti. I’ve included a link to one of the New York Times’ articles here and to the Partners in Health website that has more information and photos of the outbreak here.

I am not educated on this topic enough to add much of my own commentary except to say that this disease seems to be moving fast and I hope it can be stopped before more people die. Haiti really doesn’t need anymore tragedies.

Grounded in the States...

I feel like I am always starting a blog entry by saying “sorry I haven’t written in so long, I promise I will do a better job”…So here I go again…Sorry I haven’t written in so long but I promise I will do a better job.

For those of you who don’t know, I have finished my time with the Young Adult Service Corps, the group that sent me to Haiti, and I am now living and working in Washington DC…This is part of the reason I haven’t blogged in the last couple of months. The moving process was a bit more daunting than I realized both for me and my dog.

By moving to DC, I have realized I am going to be grounded on US soil for the next couple years. I thought of this recently as I celebrated my birthday. The first time I have been in this country to do so in what seems like a long time. I also have been so enamored with fall because I haven’t seen the leaves change color or been able to get a pumpkin spice latte in a couple years either. With these perks of being grounded in the US there is also some sadness in the knowledge that I won’t be living in Haiti or anywhere else abroad for a long time. Living in Haiti and Uganda gave me this kind energy that made you thirst for life and excitement and the desire to make a difference in a way that I can’t seem to feel in the states.

In my new “grown-up” job I’m not able to do all the much involving Haiti. Don’t get me wrong I like my work, it just isn’t Haiti. I think because of this I am increasingly feeling the need to grab on to Haiti. Holding on to the memories of my experiences there, my Haitian friends, and to any chance I have of a future with Haiti in it. If I had only known when I started this blog “Holding Haiti” a year ago how true that expression would be in my life…

In light of all this I have a new commitment to this blog. I will continue to write about the experiences I had in Haiti and those I hope to have, my opinions on what’s happening now and anything else that may arise…if for no one else but me.

I hope that there are those of you out there that will continue to read and share your view points on Haiti and perhaps how you are holding on to your memories of Haiti.

Beginning the blog...again

I’m sorry I haven’t updated my blog recently. I got behind on the posts and then just sort of gave it up. The other day however, I was surprised, when somebody asked me about my blog, and asked that I continue writing. The conversation helped me to realize that I still have a lot to say even if I am not living in Haiti…so I’ve decided to take his advice and continue my blog.

In the next couple of months I hope to share excerpts from my earthquake reflection some of my memories from when I lived there, various projects I’m working on now, and maybe, if I’m really on my game, commentary on some of the things currently happening in Haiti. I apologize because it probably won’t be in chronological order but simply what I happen to be remembering on that day.

As for this entry I wanted to share a poem I re-discovered the other day. As some of you may know or imagine the past 7months haven’t exactly been the best times of my life, This is in part due to the various responses I have had in dealing with the earthquake. The other reason is because after the quake I was sort of plopped back into the suburbs with seemingly nothing to do. I was upset about how people treated me, or how people didn’t treat me, being ignored/forgotten or getting too much attention. Without going into too many details things haven’t been great but I hope to be coming out of that slump now.

I am preparing to move and the other day I came across some of the things from when my Dad died a couple of years ago. It was a poem someone had given me. Those who may know me may think its the kind of thing that I think would be too corny, but for whatever reason it was the only thing I could really identify with after my Dads death. Anyway, I re-read it the other night for the first time in a long time and this time it seemed to express the feelings I have had the past few months. I thought I would share it here; maybe it expresses some of the feelings in Haiti now and a way we can continue to be a friend to them…

Don’t tell me that you understand,

Don’t tell me that you know.

Don’t tell me how I will survive,

How I will surely grow.

Don’t tell me this is just a test,

That I am truly blessed,

That I am chosen for this task,

Apart from all the rest.

Don’t come at me with answers

That can only come from me,

Don’t tell me how my grief will pass,

That I will soon be free.

Don’t stand in pious judgment

Of bonds I must untie,

Don’t tell me how to suffer,

And don’t tell me how to cry.

My life is filled with selfishness,

My pain is all I see

But I need you, I need your love,

Unconditionally.

Accept me in my ups and downs,

I need someone to share,

Just hold my hand and let me cry,

And say “My friend I care.”

- By Joanetta Hendel

Still Holding Haiti: Holy Week

Sorry for the delay in writing about the next part of my trip but here is the third installment from my visit.

Maundy Thursday

So I’m not sure if there has ever been a Holy Week where I went to all the services until this spring in Haiti. My first day was Maundy Thursday and I went to the service at St. Jacques le Juste in Petionville…the church that was on the same grounds as where I was staying and one of the few churches in the area to not be significantly damaged.

At the church in Haiti it is usually expected that you bring your own prayer book and hymnal and of course I didn’t have one. So as the service started I was sitting in a row by myself and kind of pretended to mouth whatever was going on in the service…until an older women signaled for me to come up and sit with her and she shared her books with me for the rest of the service…as well as every service I went to at the church for the rest of my trip.

I avoid going to church on Maundy Thursday in the US because I hate the whole idea of foot washing. I guess I get the point of it but I don’t need to have my feet washed or wash feet. It’s not my thing. Turns out it’s not really the Episcopal Church in Haiti’s thing either…so I was reprieved from the foot washing.

I will say that the missionary to Haiti I was travelling with gave a really good sermon that night all about foot washing and why we should do it. It was all about love, loving each other enough to serve one another and be served. There was a tent city across the street from the church and she brought up the image of going across the street and washing all of their feet. The feet of people who are living in mud, disease and who knows what else. The question was presented to us about what could we do to serve the people in the Tent City…foot washing being symbolic for some other action. But the message of love and serving no matter what was made especially real for me because of my experiences and being in Haiti at that moment.

Good Friday

I went to a service in the morning at St. Jacques which was a pretty simple service, but following that service we made our way down to St. Trinité Cathedral. Since the earthquake an open air cathedral had been constructed next to the ruins of the old cathedral. It was more than meaningful to worship there.

The service lasted for about 3 hours as what I believe is call the last acts, or the last words or something like that were read followed by a sermon for each one. There were 5 priests and they took turns preaching. At the end of all the readings the Bishop would come to finish the service.

Admittedly it was hard for me not to be antsy during the service but I enjoyed singing the hymns in French and Creole as well as watching two little boys playing but there are two parts that stick out to me the most.

Towards the beginning of the service as a reading was read I turned around, looking behind me and saw Bishop Duracin sitting in a car just watching and listening. He remained there for the rest of the service until it was time for him to process in and do his part. For me, it was nice to see him taking a few moments of quiet to himself, one of the few moments of peace I believe he has had since the earthquake. A time of reflection to think and watch his people worship. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

The second most memorable image I have is during the service when one of the acolytes carried the cross up aisle playing the role of Jesus with the rumble and destruction in the background. Looking at the picture is better than me describing it so here it is…

Easter Vigil

Late morning the day of the Easter Vigil, Lauren and I were standing around the church. A petite old woman came up and said to us she thought there was a service and she had been waiting for it. Lauren politely told her the service was that evening and she hoped the women would come back that night for it. The woman’s clothes seemed to be a bit ragged and from the looks of her she didn’t seem very well off. She also began to explain that her leg was injured alluding to the pain she was in, her need for medical care and that it would be difficult to go home and come back again. For some reason I couldn’t help but feel some sort of warmth for her and a connection to her and I hoped she would make it back for the service that night.

To be honest I didn’t pay all that much attention to the service that evening (I was getting a bit churched out) but instead looked at the people around me. I was sitting next to the same women I had for the past services sharing her books as usual. At this point she was so used to hearing me read in French next to her that I actually think she thought I was good at French and would say things to me quickly in French and ask me questions. I usually just nodded or mumbled something in response.

There were some people I recognized from other times I had been at the church from before the earthquake. A mom who I had seen at the Christmas eve service, then with her exceptionally chubby cute son, another older women who usually talked to the women I sat by, but as the service started I looked and I did not seen the older woman from earlier that day.

The service was done with the lights out. Everyone brought their own white candles that were lit with a fire started at the beginning of the service. I began to observe the different candles. Many of the members that were present for the service are a more well off than the average Haitian so it was interesting to compare the candles. There was a thick long candle, short white candle in glass, candles with holders so wax wouldn’t land on their hands…

Then the old petite women walked into the church. She sat near the women I was sitting with. She still had a limp and had changed her clothes from earlier. I saw she had brought a candle, a simple white candle, the kind that you put in a candle stick. Clearly a much less expensive candle. She lit it and tried to hold it during the service while balancing her prayer book and hymnal. I noticed that wax was starting to drip on her hands and it seemed as if she was looking for a way to make it better while at the same time trying to ignore it and continue to pay attention to the service. Next thing you know the women next to me helped her out and they were able to drip wax on to the ground and created a stand for the candle. It stuck out to me as a very sweet simple act of kindness, the rest of the service is kind of a French blur.

I couldn’t help but think of the older woman for much of the rest of my time in Haiti Her simple genuine presence at the church. I could only imagine why she was coming to the church. What was she searching for, what she was praying for, what she was thankful for? I wished to know what her story was and was sorry for my inability to have a conversation with her.

Still Holding Haiti: It's Not All Happy

Even though it felt great to be back in Haiti, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared or sad.

As I went around the city going back and forth to the airport I was reminded of all the destruction that I had left last January. All the buildings that had collapsed and were still so slanted that it looked like a gust of wind could knock them over. Even though I had already seen all of this before it was sad to see the enormous amount of work that still needed to be done, just to clear the ruble.

Driving around also brought me back to my last day in Haiti where I spent the morning driving around for hours before finally going to the US embassy. All the anxiety from that day found its way back into the pit of my stomach.

We also drove by some of the tent cities. Some of them taking up only the space of a small public square and others that stretched off into the distance. One thing that was good about seeing the tent cities was to see the tents. When I left people were using make shift sheets, plastic tarp and umbrellas for shelter and while this was still the case sometimes, there were also an abundance of tents giving people a close to suitable place to live. But its still disappointing to see the conditions in the tent cities and one has to wonder when people will be able to go back and live in permanent homes.

One of the things that affected me the most during my trip back was the fear. I was staying in Petionville at the Episcopal missionary’s apartment. It was on the third floor of a building next to the church and right next to a busy street. The night as we were going up to the apartment I remember asking if the building had been checked out and if it was safe to sleep in and the response was something like “We think its ok”…

As it came time to sleep we talked about what we would do if there was an earthquake and where we would go. I wasn’t all that comfortable with the plan but it seemed like it was the best option. Then I prepared a backpack with my passport, change of clothes, granola bars, phones etc that I could quickly grab in case I needed to leave quickly. We slept with the door unlocked so we could get out quick.

As I laid down to sleep at night I couldnt help but about how all this prep work probably wouldn’t be that useful if anything like the January 12 earthquake happened. I didn’t really think there would be time to get out or that I would have the presence of mind to get out with my things or worse that I would just sleep through something. Then I thought about the buildings I had seen which had pancaked. Not very comforting. I laid there stiff as a board feeling like I was back on the grass at the soccer field the night of the earthquake.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep very well and woke up to a swollen bottom lip. Apparently during the night when I had managed to sleep I was so tense that I bit my lip…and judging by the feeling in my lip…I bit it hard and for a long time.

Despite some of the fear, anxiety and sadness, I tried my hardest for it not to become the focus of my trip. I knew that this was what my students and friends had been dealing with ever since I left and I couldn’t let just one night ruin my visit.

Still Holding Haiti

Last time I wrote about my upcoming trip to Haiti, where I was looking forward to returning and hoping to see my friends and students and seeing what has happened since I left. Because it would be probably one of the longest blog entries ever to write about my whole trip all at once I’m going to spend the next few days writing about different parts of the trip. So here’s the first one...

Getting There…

As you might know I was more than excited to go back to Haiti, so imagine my disappointment when I found myself sitting on the plane at O’Hare airport 2 hours after my flight was supposed to takeoff. There were electrical problems with the plane and eventually we had to switch to a different one. We landed in Miami 3 hours after my flight was supposed to land and I missed my connecting flight to Haiti, which also happened to be the last flight out for that day.

I spent the night in Miami at the Holiday Inn and ate at the hotel’s Cuban Restaurant (the Airline Paid). I was more than angry and disappointed so while eating alone, instead of completely sulking, I tried to distract myself by watching planes take off, thinking how thankful I was I had packed extra clothes and toiletries in my carry on, and trying to figure out the similarities between the Cuban food I was eating and Haitian food I should have been eating.

Bright and early the next morning (before sunrise) I was on the shuttle bus back to the airport. There was a small scare that I wouldn’t make it to the airport because the driver didn’t seem to know how to get there and kept driving on streets that were dead ends but eventually we got there and after some small delays on the airplane I was finally on my way to Port au Prince!

As the plane began to land I was able to look at the window and was filled with excitement. As I stepped off the plane, greeted by a small band, and making my way through customs I felt so happy to be back. I eagerly pulled out my Haitian phone and sent texts to some friends letting them know I was there. One friend even called me and as we were talking the mentioned how much happier I sounded.

Even as I waited and waited for my luggage, I continued to be happy. Listening to the familiar sound of Creole. The pushing and shoving as people edged closer to get their bags. The workers helping the older women first. The rich men who tried to do what they could to be first to get their bags. The heat. The organized chaos. The hurry up and wait. Seeing and feeling all of it let me know I was back in Haiti and it felt great.

A lot of my first day was spent making return trips to the airport…seems like the Airline decided not to put my luggage on the plane (or about half of the other people on the flight)…I did eventually get everything but I couldn’t help but be in a good mood about it all because I was back.

I’m Going Back

but just for a short time.

Tomorrow I am leaving to go back to Haiti and will be there for about a week and a half. I’ll be going to help the missionary Lauren Stanley and basically do whatever I’m told while I’m there. I am really looking for ward to returning and seeing my friends again and people that I never had the chance to say goodbye to because I left in such a rush. I hope that maybe this trip could help me figure out a way to continue to go back to Haiti or even stay there again on a more long term basis.

I will be there for Easter Sunday. I was talking my neighbor and when I told her this she pointed out how symbolic it was that I would be there for Easter. A time of resurrection and new life and to see that so visibly in Haiti as relief efforts continue and the steps towards rebuilding begin.

I will also be able to be present for the Episcopal Diocese of Haiti’s Convention. It will be interesting to see what is discussed and to be honest I’m maybe more excited about the possibility of being able to see some of the priests I had met and hopefully some of the seminarians, who I spent so much time with while I was living in Haiti. Before the earthquake I was supposed to be at the convention to assist in different ways and I think its nice that I will actually still be able to do that now.

I’m also curious to see what changes have occurred since I’ve been gone. What ruble has been moved, how much has stayed the same. Admittedly I’m not exactly sure what to expect but it will be helpful to see for myself what has happened since the quake and I think it will help me with some of the presentations I still have left to give.

I’m sorry that I’m only just now telling you all about this trip but it all kind of came together pretty quickly and there were a few days where I couldn’t believe I was actually going so was hesitant to share the news. Looking back I would have loved to have shared the information with everyone earlier and perhaps ask for help gathering things to take to Haiti like tents bedding and toys. But thankfully from extra money that I fundraised last summer I was able to by a few tents, bedding, and toys to bring with me. So I have to thank all of you again who supported me and continue to support me.

Also just a heads up when I’m in Haiti I’m going to try and buy some art and hope to be able to have an auction to sell the art to raise money for rebuilding but its only an idea right now and I will have more information on that once I get back.

I’ll let you all know how everything goes. Talk to y’all later