What is it?

I’m awake again. It’s about 1:30am. There is no electricity, so I’m just running on the remainder of my computer battery. By the time I post this message, it will be a day late.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I have fought so hard to sleep. I always considered myself one of the lucky ones—someone who could fall asleep under any circumstances, be it loud noise, extreme heat and even on an empty stomach. In school, this would often prove to be more of a curse than a blessing, seeing as how it took little more than the sound of my teacher’s voice to send me off to dreamland. But now, now I wish for that ease. I’ve tried putting a movie into my computer, listening to music, reading a dull book, but each attempt to tire myself fails. I wind up not watching the movie, not listening to the music and staring blankly at the page in front of me. I don’t know what it is. There is something on my mind, something unsettling or at the very least, distracting. I’ve tried to pinpoint it by writing in my journal but the task of free writing proves to be overwhelming.

I miss my family terribly. I think about my friends all of the time. I find myself retracing my entire life over and over, reliving the greatest and worst moments, until I find myself back here, in Haiti, surrounded by four walls of dirt, alone, laying on this hard mattress, looking up at the dark ceiling, to the loud hum of my fan.

Then I think about what it’s like when I wake up in the morning. The rising sun that fills my room with bright light, the cool morning breeze that has forced me under my sheets and of course, the sound of roosters crowing, cows mooing and children laughing. I look forward to the moment I first step outside of my room, for I will surely hear my name called by at least a half dozen smiling children.

It’s no secret, the emotional strain that comes with leaving those you love behind and moving to a place like Haiti. Faced daily with sickness, disease, hunger and suffering, I would have surely believed that after several months, my heart would have hardened into a rock, impenetrable by the injustices one becomes accustomed to seeing here. However, that was not the case. If anything, I find myself ever the more sensitive. I’ve been here 3 ½ months. I’ve learned the language, traveled the country, met with some of Haiti’s elite and treated some of its poorest. I don’t claim to have seen everything, but I’ve seen a lot and I’ve grown immeasurably over these last few months. I’ve been changed by this country.

It was a long day

I can't sleep. I woke up with the fan on me this morning which is always a great start to the day because it means we have electricity. At 5am, I was at my computer typing up the day's lesson plan for my public health group. The lesson topic this morning was "Prevention vs. Treatment." Every weekday morning, from 8-11am, I teach 5 of the older boys at the orphanage about various diseases, testing and treatment methods and preventative measures. Depending on the complexity of the topic, we may spend an entire week learning about a single disease. After each topic, I give them a written and oral exam to ensure their grasp of the material. It's important that they are comfortable with the material, because at the end of the three month training program, they will be the ones who'll be entering classrooms in the local primary and secondary schools to teach others what they've learned.

My goal is to spread as much knowledge relating to public health as possible, in hope that through education I can empower those most vulnerable in rural Haiti--the children. To understand what those itchy bumps are all over your body and how to get rid of them and avoid getting them again is priceless for a child covered in scabies. To learn about parasites and why it is smart to avoid drinking dirty water may help prevent a child from getting worms, diarrhea and dying from dehydration. If this all sounds a bit dramatic, I assure you that it's no exageration. I've seen things that have made my skin crawl and it bothers me horribly that I can't be there every time to stop these easily preventable sicknesses from happening in the first place.

On another note, marathon training is going well. I've recently recruited one of the older boys from the orphanage to do the marathon with me. His name is Michel and he's one of our best soccer players and loves to run. He's been training with me for about a week now and he absolutely loves it. He's in great shape and has his heart set on winning first place. I must say, his drive to succeed is inspiring. I believe he's got enough heart to do anything. Fr. Marc bought him a pair of running shoes and some shorts. I've started him on a runner's diet, chock full of carbs, electrolytes and vitamins. It's great to have someone to run with. In the next week or so, we'll be getting him his passport and booking his very first flight for his very first time leaving the country. We're both through the roof excited and are counting down the 87 days until the race!