The marathon went well. It was quite possibly the most physically and mentally challenging thing I’ve ever done, but I’m glad that I did it. When I arrived in the Grand Caymans the first night, Fritzner was not there. He never arrived on the 4pm flight, 3 hours earlier. Enlisting the help of the race coordinators and strangers I met on my flight, I spent the next two days and nearly $100 in calling cards, calling Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Haiti and the US, trying to locate him. With Fritzner not there, I struggled with whether I should stay and run the race. We had trained for nearly 3 months together and supported each other the entire time. Now, I was there and he wasn’t. I had to run the race by myself and at the time, the only thought going through my mind, was that something horrible happened to him. For 72 hours, the worst possible thoughts were going through my head. I pictured him being robbed, beaten and even killed. If I had at least known that he was ok, I would have felt better. But that entire run, which should have taken me no longer than 3.5 hours, took me nearly 4.5 hours to finish. My heart was in my throat the entire time. I was depressed, scared and incredibly lonely the entire time. The first hour and a half of the run was before sunrise, in the pitch dark. I imagined Fritz running beside me, smiling at me, running faster than me, telling me to hurry up. I felt as though his spirit was with me and though I’m sure that’s what got me through the race, the thought that he was dead, petrified me and gave me shivers. My breathing was irregular; my heart rate was racing even while I ran at a steady pace. I’m amazed that I finished that race considering my fragile emotional state. Marathons are nearly all mental. I’ve realized that if your mind is not clear and focused on the run and nothing else, the whole thing will feel like hell.
The race director and coach Jerry were the two primary people who convinced me to still run the race, in honor of Fritzner and the country I’m representing. But the last thing I wanted to do was run alone. I was responsible for Fritz and I couldn’t live with myself if anything had happened to him. It was his first time on a plane and first time leaving his country. With the support of many, and a big welcome over the megaphone at the start of the race, I had become motivated to run the 26.2 miles. The race began at 5am while the sun was still down. The first hour and a half of the race was in the pitch dark and not having a running partner, I quickly found myself distressed. That feeling never let up the entire race.
A few hours after I passed the finish line, I received an email telling me that Fritz was ok and that he was back in Haiti. It turns out that he was detained in Cuba and not allowed to board the flight to the Caymans because he didn’t have a British visa. Even though, just a few days earlier, I had the director of Immigration in the Caymans clear Fritz from needing a visa, he was not allowed to board. The director had given us a number to call if there was a problem, but apparently no one answered the phone and Cuba said no. With no money in his pocket, Fritz ended up staying with his taxi driver for three days. He fed him and gave him a place to stay for three days. On the fourth day, he found a stranger to buy him a ticket back to Haiti.
After I found out that Fritz was ok, I was able to relax a little more. I spent everyday in the ocean and even became a certified open water diver while I was there. Soon after, I flew home to spend Christmas and New Years with my family and had a wonderful time.
I’ve been back in Haiti for a week now. Everyone welcomed me with wide open arms and big kisses. I found myself putting out my hand for a handshake for the same people who just a month earlier, I would hug nearly every morning. They avoided my hand and went straight for the hug regardless. It has been great to see everyone again. My public health team has been working around the clock while I’ve been away. They have been continuing the DOT treatment of TB and monitoring the houses in the children’s village. They even designed and executed another public health lesson for all 600 children in the village without my being here! The presentation was on worms and parasites. According to Fr. Marc and others who were there, they were entertaining, well-prepared and captivating. I’m so proud of them. They’ve already prepared for their next presentation on malaria. We’ll be holding off on it until next week for when our visiting group of doctors come down from the states. I’d like them to see firsthand what the PH team is doing.
Sante Piblik, "Public Health" in Creole.
Equipped with new shirts, hats, backpacks, lab coats and watches, the public health team is official. These uniforms wouldn't have been possible without the help of generous donors in Rhode Island who had the gear made special for our team.
