Letters with Stevenson

It is easy to feel overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of the problems of poverty. I have witnessed the undoing of many well-meaning individuals and organizations who have entered the fray of the developing world with wonderful, but short-sighted or self-centered intentions. I marvel that I have been here nearly one year, and that this life has become so normalized for me. The creature comforts of home still remind me of how I miss them. 

I am currently in Mexico, having had an overnight layover in Miami and running into Target for a few necessities – and no matter how much I try to prepare myself, it is a ceaseless amazement to me that there is such a plethora of items there. But thank goodness for one-stop shopping, a luxury that is not to be found in Haiti. Running errands with Joanne a few weeks ago, as we searched through the various NGO’s serving in Haiti hoping to find a supplier of mosquito nets, we did stop at the most well-stocked supermarket I had seen in my eight months’ assignment, but still we had to travel to at least three more stores to find esoteric items such as staplers and digital memory cards (which, after import taxes, ran at least double the price in the States).

In the midst of a stretch of months where many projects seem to be nearing their completion – well, I am glad you asked! Of course I am glad to share the accomplishments of my team with you – we have completed the admission lab work for all of our children, a huge feat in just a few short months; we have begun keeping regular monthly statistics via computer, we will be completing the third round of supplemental vaccinations next month, 38 of our children who tested positive on their Mantoux TB tests are now on prophylactic medication, we have done basic vision testing on nearly all of the kids, which will also be completed within the month, we finally have mosquito nets for everyone at the home!!!!! (Special thanks go to the NPH German office for their work in securing the donation), and we will be receiving a massive order of medications which should supply us for the next 12 months. (Again, thanks to the German offices for their generosity in covering the cost of these medications). As of this week, all of the children will have had a visit with the dentist - Dental services are offered at St. Damien hospital, free of charge, for which we are very grateful and blessed! We will also soon be moving to a bigger container, which will give us double the clinic space and also will allow a private sleeping space for the nurses, storage, and a more peaceful environment for our patients. 

Perhaps the most encouraging accomplishment was the completion of a nutrition program we implemented in October. We identified 58 children who were significantly underweight and under-height for their ages. Over the next five months, those children received a supplemental meal every day at 10:00 am, the time of their school break. We monitored heights and weights monthly. Some children were able to leave the program, while others were brought in due to weight loss. Just last week, we re-weighed everyone that has ever been in the program, and I am thrilled to report that over five months, we had a total of 65 children receive extra food. As of today, only 9 remain significantly underweight! That is a massive improvement, and was a huge encouragement to the nurses, the directors and myself, as 86% of the children drastically improved and are now back on the growth curve!

And now to the original purpose of this post – and the addition of “teacher” to my resume. As we were commencing with the vision tests of all the kiddos last month, Stevenson came to me and insisted that we had to check his eyes too. A part of me wanted to laugh, as he has a congenital defect which has been diagnosed here in Haiti as Ocular Muscle Atrophy. He is nearly blind and can distinguish some colors, but not all, and most certainly could not read or write. He was at the FWAL school for many months, but understandably was inattentive in class and was deemed a poor student. A side challenge of the educational system here in Haiti is that there is no individual attention given, and instruction is given via memorization the majority of time. After we obtained an appointment with an ophthalmologist and were given the diagnosis mentioned above, it was decided that we would send Stevenson to a school for the blind, starting in January. 

Stevenson (Left) and a friend at Kay St,. Louis

 Stevenson is a wonderfully sweet and attentive child, desperate for attention and often acting out because he is so frustrated with the inability to apply himself to constructive activities. He loves to learn, and was able to dance the Cupid Shuffle with me after only a few lessons! He still asks to dance, and reminds me when I have not brought my music for many weeks. As times, I will admit, his constant presence at my side and his violent actions to keep my attention were an annoyance to me, but at the same time, I wondered how this intelligent little guy might be able to learn.

After he started school, I asked him daily what he had learned. He continuously said, “Nothing,” and “they don’t talk there.” He was still bored, frustrated, anxious and easily irritated. For the next two months, his answers remained the same, and he could not tell me anything he had learned. Was he reading Braille? Could he see enough to read or write? I knew nothing. I was frustrated for him, as it seemed that the venture into special education was proving fruitless. 

So, the day of the vision test, to humor Stevenson, I decided to go ahead and test his vision with the basic picture eye chart. To my surprise, he could see the largest line – the equivalent of 20/100 vision, with his right eye! Sadly his left eye could not distinguish the pictures. But after seeing that he could recognize the largest items on the chart, I started thinking – if he can see large pictures, why not large letters? I asked Stevenson, “Do you want to learn how to write?” And you can guess his response! So commenced my latest project. I created large letters, colored with bright colors in permanent marker, on pieces of construction paper. We started at the beginning of the alphabet, and covered one to two letters per day, learning both the capital and lowercase letters. I had to double check many times how to write the lowercase, as here in Haiti cursive writing is still taught as the primary form. This makes me happy, as my friends and anyone who has received anything in written form from me will testify. I still love writing in cursive! And will keep up the protest, as our crazy modern age slowly picks away at penmanship skills. The change in little Stevenson was amazing to observe – he was excited, and happy, and embraced the challenge. It has been difficult for him at times, as he still cannot see well once he has written something on paper – he is doing most of his writing by feel and repetition. But the smile on his face when he was able to start writing people’s names was fabulous. He sings to the letters, laughs at me when I ask how to write a certain letter in Creole versus English, remembers incredibly well when we have our daily quizzes, and can recognize every letter. “Show me the other one,” he says when he cannot quite remember.  The other nurses and even a few of the other children have participated too, patiently waiting while he concentrates and writes each letter. Once the children see how excited Stevenson is, their interest compounds!

 I was close to tears when he wrote my name over and over, trying to get it perfect. He runs up to me every afternoon when I arrive, asking which letters we will practice today, and now that we have gotten to the end of the alphabet, he is anxious to learn his numbers. I am now determined to search for a better diagnosis, so that I know if we have considered every possible option for him. Thankfully, a CT scanner is functional at a neighboring hospital. But it is an absolute highlight of each of my recent days at FWAL, to see him changing and becoming a studious boy, hopeful and optimistic about his improving future. This is why I am here. Each day, more reasons are revealed to me. When I become doubtful or lonely, I can go find a little visually challenged boy and ask him to write his name. And now, after years of waiting, he can.