Elections are right around the corner and threats of manifestations and riots are hitting the streets. All white people are advised to stay indoors and those who are not a part of the riots are recommended to stay off the streets and keep the distance.
Politics in Haiti is a scary topic. With over 50 political parties, corruption seems to be the only thing tying them all together. When news spread, that Lavalas (a political party in Haiti founded in 1996, of which former president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, is a member) were not in the running this coming election, it took just minutes before the word got out that a huge manifestation would be staged this weekend.
"They're telling people to write your name on the bottom of your foot," Fritzner told me last night. "Why?" I asked. "So that they can identify you if you're found dead."
I'm doing my part to stay on campus. We've even taken in Amanda, a U.S. volunteer working on an AIDS project in town. She'll be staying with us on campus because it is too dangerous to stay in town. Please keep everyone in Haiti in your prayers. Not a day goes by where I don't realize how much we take for granted in the states. The truths we assume. This is the time of year when death tolls run the highest and dirty politics run rapid. I'll keep you posted.
Will
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Turning 23 in Haiti
I woke up yesterday, first a little bummed to not have my family or closest friends here with me, but when I stepped out my door to a beautiful, bright and shiny day, it was hard to stay feeling sad. The reality is, I could have done any number of things for my bday. I could have taken a trip out to the beach in Port Salut, or the breathtaking waterfall in Camparrin, a day in Port-au-Prince or hopped on a bus to the Dominican Republic to spend time with friends I don't get to see very often. Instead, I decided that no matter I went, no place would be as fun as a village of 600 children who all new it was your birthday. I couldn't have a party large enough for everyone, so instead, Naseer, Amanda, Fritzner and I, spent the afternoon filling 950 water balloons to start a village-wide water war. We filled up 500 balloons for the kids and put them into coolers that were strategically placed on the Espwa campus. I had a few of the older Espwa boys go and call out to invite all of the children over and within minutes, dozens and dozens and soon hundreds of children were running up taking cover as we bombed them mercilessly with giant water balloons from the roof of the guest house. By the end of the day, I was soaked. I had been hit everywhere and was sure that the kids were aiming for my head because I definitely received some dead on face hits! It was a blast and everyone had a great time. Fr. Marc even joined us on the roof to throw some balloons.
It couldn't have been a hotter day and everyone welcomed the water. The children started throwing themselves in the way of the balloons and some would catch them only to throw back at us.
Dee, a member of the Espwa board of directors, made the trip down for my birthday and brought me my favorite foods, remaking Thanksgiving Day dinner and lemon moraine pie. She brought me a black hoodie with the words "Ti Dokte" (Little Doctor is what the children used to call me when I first came to Haiti) embroidered on it. She also brought me two scrub outfits, one with my name on it and the other with "ti dokte," so that I could have them for med school in the fall. The children made me a ton of cards and pictures and I was serenaded to by one of the music groups on campus. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.
Fr. Marc, underhanding the balloons.
Scoping out the grounds and identifying my targets.
The kids, gathering in preparation for the bombing.
It couldn't have been a hotter day and everyone welcomed the water. The children started throwing themselves in the way of the balloons and some would catch them only to throw back at us.
Dee, a member of the Espwa board of directors, made the trip down for my birthday and brought me my favorite foods, remaking Thanksgiving Day dinner and lemon moraine pie. She brought me a black hoodie with the words "Ti Dokte" (Little Doctor is what the children used to call me when I first came to Haiti) embroidered on it. She also brought me two scrub outfits, one with my name on it and the other with "ti dokte," so that I could have them for med school in the fall. The children made me a ton of cards and pictures and I was serenaded to by one of the music groups on campus. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.
Fr. Marc, underhanding the balloons.
Scoping out the grounds and identifying my targets.
The kids, gathering in preparation for the bombing.Friday, April 17, 2009
It's My Birthday!
I've got 1000 water balloons and can't wait to use them! We're going to have a massive water balloon party!
Monday, April 13, 2009
My Little Buddy
This is Roberson, the 5 year-old boy who we believe to have cerebral palsy. He lives in the next village over. I first met Roberson and his mother, 5 months ago when a concerned neighbor asked that I help find him a new place to live. His mother was newly pregnant and was forced to abandon him every day to work the fields in order to put food in their mouths each night. Roberson, paralyzed from the waist down, was left to sit in his own urine and feces until a neighbor or his mother returned to change him. When I first found him, he was alone in a corner, covered in saliva, urine and bugs.
After Mother Theresa’s organization turned Roberson and his mother away, I went to Fr. Marc and asked if there was any way we could get Roberson’s mother a job at Espwa and have one of the ladies at Espwa watch Roberson during the day. Without hesitating, Fr. Marc made the calls and by the next morning, Roberson and his mother were on campus being hired by Berthony, the Director of Espwa. Now, nearly 8 months into her pregnancy, Roberson’s mother cannot work nor can she take care of Roberson. While we continue to hold her job and send her food, it was obvious that caring for Roberson was becoming harder and harder even with the help of neighbors.
This is the new chair that we had made at the Espwa carpentry shop to help relieve some strain from Roberson’s mom. It acts as a potty chair and with the arms on all three sides; it allows Robeson to hold himself up unlike before when his sitting on the ground also meant his face being in the dirt from his inability to hold his upper body up. Ever since first stumbling upon their home while on my morning run, I’ve made it a habit to visit frequently. Sometimes I just sit there with him in silence. He smiles and starts throwing up his arms when he sees me coming, while his mother yells “Gade, Roberson. Zanmi ou ap vini.” (Look, Roberson. Your friend is coming). He is a beautiful little boy, full of joy and affection.
Raymond, the man who first told me about Roberson and asked me to help is currently in the middle of helping to build a new one-room house for Roberson and his mom. Raymond dedicates 6 months out of the year to living and working in Haiti, building homes for the poorest of the poor. His work is inspiring.
Roberson and I just thinking about things and shooting the breeze.
Roberson's mom doing laundry.
Roberson in his new chair.
Roberson's old chair and his new chair.
After Mother Theresa’s organization turned Roberson and his mother away, I went to Fr. Marc and asked if there was any way we could get Roberson’s mother a job at Espwa and have one of the ladies at Espwa watch Roberson during the day. Without hesitating, Fr. Marc made the calls and by the next morning, Roberson and his mother were on campus being hired by Berthony, the Director of Espwa. Now, nearly 8 months into her pregnancy, Roberson’s mother cannot work nor can she take care of Roberson. While we continue to hold her job and send her food, it was obvious that caring for Roberson was becoming harder and harder even with the help of neighbors.
This is the new chair that we had made at the Espwa carpentry shop to help relieve some strain from Roberson’s mom. It acts as a potty chair and with the arms on all three sides; it allows Robeson to hold himself up unlike before when his sitting on the ground also meant his face being in the dirt from his inability to hold his upper body up. Ever since first stumbling upon their home while on my morning run, I’ve made it a habit to visit frequently. Sometimes I just sit there with him in silence. He smiles and starts throwing up his arms when he sees me coming, while his mother yells “Gade, Roberson. Zanmi ou ap vini.” (Look, Roberson. Your friend is coming). He is a beautiful little boy, full of joy and affection.
Raymond, the man who first told me about Roberson and asked me to help is currently in the middle of helping to build a new one-room house for Roberson and his mom. Raymond dedicates 6 months out of the year to living and working in Haiti, building homes for the poorest of the poor. His work is inspiring.
Roberson and I just thinking about things and shooting the breeze.
Roberson's mom doing laundry.
Roberson in his new chair.
Roberson's old chair and his new chair.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
