Home to a Foreign Land

"The people I have met are the wonders of my world." - Adele

Ti Erline, happier and so healthy now!

A few of my entourage

The girls patiently wait for their Christmas gifts

New outfits!

Wilner and Antoine, adorable big and little brother

I sit here recovering from the whirlwind that has been the past three weeks... the journey to the States for a visit, the return “home” to a foreign land, the re-immersion into this culture, the massive influx of visitors for the anniversary of the earthquake, the emotion of loss and remembrance, the completion of the first statistical report for the FWAL clinic... Phew. I have commented before that countless moments fill each day, and it makes it difficult to capture all of them.

The visit with family and friends was packed with activity, much more than I anticipated. The “down time” I thought I might have never actually occurred – but it was wonderful to see faces and look into the eyes of precious loved ones, to relate just a bit of my experience when time and interest allowed. It is a truly strange spectrum of emotions as I re-entered the American culture while carrying so much of Haiti within my mind and heart. Much of the visit felt surreal, much like my first few weeks here in Haiti did. And even more surreal was the packing up and returning here after a few short days. Friends and family were extremely generous with donations of supplies, vitamins and toys...due to the holiday constraints on checked baggage, not all of them made it here yet, but they are coming! Kudos to my former co-workers and two cherished patient families – the kids got new underwear, and the girls got some awesomely cool hair accessories, as part of their Christmas pile of presents. The look on their faces was priceless as they opened their bags.

My view from the clinic, first day back - the kids couldn't get enough of me!

The children have embraced me just a little more tightly since I came back. We actually made a stop at St. Louis on the way back from the airport, just to say hello. Oh, the love I experience from them! Their eyes lit up, and my smile did as well. “You came back?” they asked as they hugged me. Then, “Did you bring candy?” (Of course, the obvious follow-up question!) The power of the return is strong. And yes, I did bring candy. As we participated in the events of this week, from the joy of Christmas gift distribution to the bittersweet morning of Visitors' Day, to the mass at Titanyen, the site of the thousands of mass graves after the earthquake, to the noon mass yesterday just outside the chapel at the hospital, I have studied their faces, fallen even more in love with them, and have been extremely proud of them as they have behaved so well! These kids are the epitome of living in the moment and dancing, no matter the circumstances. I am blessed to care for these little heroes.

Yesterday I finished a report detailing the operations of the Angels of Light clinic over the past four months, and as I have compiled information and added numbers, I began to feel like a proud mother – the three nurses I work with have been diligent and purposeful in their work since I have arrived. They have allowed me into their lives and their practice, and have responded positively to the changes we have begun to make. They have completed basic blood and other admission examinations on nearly all the chidren, begun a new way of documentation, learned Excel, (two of them had never touched a computer before!), organized the charts with completely new paperwork, entered daily and monthly statistics, managed supplies and medications more efficiently, given two rounds of vaccinations to all 183 children, all while managing a workload of approximately 500 visits to the clinic each month! They are faith-filled, have fabulous senses of humor, and very much want to learn more. They stated that their number one need for the coming year was more education, so yours truly has a long list of subjects to condense and teach. What a blessing to work with women who want to improve their practice and care more holistically for the children in their charge.

In talking to a former volunteer and some dear friends, I have adopted the word “heavy” as one of the best descriptors of this experience. I had a huge amount of anxiety as I packed the night before my return, and I could feel the weight of Haiti reintroducing itself. This is neither good nor bad – just fact. This is a hard life, a challenging culture, a massive amount of emotion requiring constant effort at the maintenance of composure, countless numbers of suffering people, blazing sunlight as it illuminates a broken country, the crisis of the moment dictating the order of the day. It is also genuine laughter, the comfort of touch and truth in conversation, the raw experience of love in its truest form, the joy of children whose spirits will not be stifled. It is the weight of poverty compounded with the challenge of promoting change for people so used to years of failure and disappointment. “If God wills,” is how every goodbye is ended. God willing we are still alive tomorrow, I will see you again. Ugh -how sobering! It is a constant in my mind to want to respond, “Well, yes, of course – that is an understood with me – but let's actively hope for the promise of tomorrow!” The fragility of hope presents itself to me on a regular basis. So I say, “Always.” That is how we must live – in hope, the expectation of good, of another day, while living the present to the fullest we can, willing to accept that tomorrow may not come, but not allowing that possibility to be cause for fear. Let it simply motivate us to be truly present to those in front of us, aware and responsive to how we may best be used to love and care for them in the time we are given with them.