We completed our last day of lugging around makeshift
measuring equipment around villages under the hot sun and torturing our
interpreters last Thursday.
Transportation via hospital vehicles has been fickle; you could say that
we waited three days for our ride to finally come and take us to where we
needed to go to get the last of our data.
We then spent the weekend sitting on the porch from early morning to
late night crunching data, designing charts and graphs, and building a
preliminary report which we finally presented to the hospital’s Chief Medical
Director on Monday evening. We still
have more data analysis to do back in Boston once we can get in the lab, but
for now, we are proud of what we’ve been able to put together so far! And for the first time, we have been able to
analyze our very own collected data.
That is something.
We have continued to visit the post-surgery patient in
town. I got to see a doctor pull what
seemed like a hundred staples out of her leg the other day. And I have cleaned and redressed her wound
twice. There’s a first time for
everything!
Last Friday, Shelley, two visiting pediatric physical
therapists, and I rode tap-taps into Cap-Haitien and walked across town to
visit Missionaries of the Poor, a lovely, large, church-based compound, run by
Catholic Brothers from around the world, that holds an orphanage for children
and a nursing home for older adults. The
majority of the people that stay there have special needs and have nowhere else
to turn. It is amazing what the brothers
are able to provide for these people.
So, now it is time to say my see-you-later’s. Shelley left this morning to return to Boston
and I’m the last remaining survivor of the Tufts gang! I fly tomorrow morning to Turks and Caicos for
5 days for an indulgent island getaway and some intermediary reverse culture
shock.
Leaving Haiti is bittersweet… My time here has been very
challenging and emotional at times, but also fun and inspiring. The people and the landscape of this region
are truly beautiful. I suppose I won’t
miss the constant itching and sweating, and sleeping in a tiny, rocky bed under
a mosquito net. But there are so many
things that I will miss when I leave.
The warmth and hospitality of families in the villages. The ability of the people to smile so often
and keep a sense of humor despite their hardships. The food, of course. Wearing scrubs (pajamas) to work every
day. The stunningly beautiful children. Meeting new friends. Even the bluntness of the Haitians’
curiosity when they ask things like, “Why is your voice like that of a small
child?” (This coming from one of the head administrators at the hospital.)
This has been an incredible learning experience. We have only lightly scratched the surface in
our 2 months, but I feel like I have seen and learned so much about what it is
like to do field research and to work in Haiti.
I think I can speak Creole now about as well as a 4-year-old Haitian!
The poverty, malnutrition, and illness here never ceased to
be overwhelming. One of our faculty
advisors told us once that we may often feel completely helpless, but we are here to
bear witness. For the first time in my
overseas travels, I have been able to spend a large amount of time in the
community and close to its people. And
for that reason, this blog has been much heavier than the others.
I can understand how it might be difficult to not lose hope
here. The public health problems here
can seem insurmountable. But I have great
appreciation for and take some comfort in the small, gradual, individual
successes that we have seen. I saw
little Linda, behind in physical development by a year, stand up on her feet
for the very first time on Monday. She
was being held by her foster mother and maybe took just a step or two, but we were
ecstatic. Sadly, beautiful little Rosie
has not been thriving even with the formula and special bottles. However, we
have been trying today to make arrangements for better care for her, and I’m hoping to hear
soon after I leave that things are in place to guarantee her recovery. And I couldn’t think of a better way to end
our time here than one last visit to Children of the Promise to see the
children and of course little J… who has gained plenty of weight! He is healthy and plump and handsome again,
likes to play, even gave us a couple sneaky smiles, and will be ready to go
home in a month or so. As his sponsor,
I’ll fortunately get updates about his progress after I leave. I couldn’t be happier or more grateful right
now about how well he has recovered. It
is miraculous what proper care and treatment can do.
It can be hard to know whether you can really make a
difference in Haiti as one person. But I
do know for sure that I will come back.
Until then, n’a we
pita, Ayiti.
See you later, Haiti.
Hopefully soon.
