2021 Haiti Medical Mission Journal Summary
In the face of immense tragedy and a complex humanitarian crisis in Haiti, the diary of this medical professional reveals a profound commitment to compassion and aid. Despite the daunting challenges, such as a devastating earthquake, a history of political instability, and the ongoing threat of COVID-19 and violence, the medical team, led by Dr. Don LaFont and Dr. Brian Fullwood, perseveres in their mission to provide medical relief.
The entry reflects the struggles faced in organizing the trip, from exorbitant airline costs to logistical hurdles and professional constraints. Yet, against the odds, the doctors press on, embodying the spirit of resilience and determination. Their journey, occurring on the 20th anniversary of 9/11, adds a poignant layer to their mission, emphasizing the interconnectedness of global crises.
The narrative also captures the beauty and contradictions of Haiti—the lushness of the landscape, the warmth of the people, juxtaposed with the harsh realities of poverty and political instability. Through conversations with locals and observations, the medical professionals gain insights into the multifaceted challenges facing Haiti, touching on political unrest, kidnappings, and the scarcity of medical teams.
Despite the complexities, the diary entries convey a sense of hope and purpose. The doctors find solace in the small joys, such as the beauty of a Haitian sunrise and the warmth of the community they are there to assist. Their commitment to service, even in the face of overwhelming odds, becomes a beacon of inspiration—a testament to the indomitable human spirit and the potential for positive change, no matter how daunting the circumstances may be.
Here's Lynn Anton's Story in Her Own Words:
Saturday, August 14, 8:39 am
Aa 7.2 magnitude earthquake hits the southwest portion of Haiti near Les Cayes.
Whole towns collapsed. Approximately 2,000 people are known to be dead and over ten thousand more injured. Several large “holes” swallowed up buildings and people, buried alive. Nearly 61,000 homes are destroyed and 137,000 have sustained damage.
This has added to an already humanitarian crisis which is multi-factorial. The unstable political situation, following the assassination of the president in July, and a lack of elections for the country’s parliament which currently only has 1/3 of its required members. The limited capacity to slow the spread of COVID-19 due to low acceptance of the vaccine. And the increase in violence due to gangs terrorizing citizens and foreigners in the urban areas with kidnapping and ransom demands. All of this has created a hesitance on humanitarian aid. Haiti should be renamed Hades, because it is hell on earth.
It’s so sad to think this is happening again, in Haiti. In 2010, a 7.6 magnitude earthquake hit near the capital of Port Au Prince. Over 300,000 people are known to have died with guesstimates up to 200,000 more people missing, unaccounted for, presumed dead.
Friday, September 10, 2021
Dr. Don LaFont, Dr. Brian Fullwood and I have been trying for weeks to come to Haiti since the earthquake struck to help in the medical relief effort. Personally, because the epicenter is close to our twinned parishes in Maron and Beaumont.
Information about the damage, loss of life and injuries has been very slow to emerge from the areas. The US mainstream news has more important things to report like COVID-19 hospitalization numbers, hurricane IDA hitting New Orleans, and the disastrous withdrawal of US troops from Afghanistan. Haiti, as usual, only received less than a week of coverage and now nothing. Crickets.
Initially, the cost for our small medical team to come to Haiti was prohibitive.
American Airlines was charging $4300/seat and the only other commercial airline flying to Haiti, Jet Blue, could only accommodate 1-2 people every two days or so. Then, several on the medical team were being denied time off by their employers because of concerns in potential COVID case increases at their facilities. My employer also initially said I couldn’t go because there was no one to cover any potential research cases at the hospitals across the US. Trying to coordinate 7-8 people to go to Haiti at the drop of a hat is like herding cats. Logistics, COVID testing, supplies, expenses
Eventually, it was only Brian and I that would make the trip. Now here we are on a flight from Nashville to Miami. American Airlines was not very helpful with trying to secure one extra duffel each (full of medicine and medical supplies). The first bag was free and the second bag was $40. We were willing to pay for a third bag each. I called and wrote to several people with “Customer Service” the two weeks prior to our departure to request humanitarian consideration. I finally received a response from them when we arrived in Haiti: “We’re sorry we were not able to fulfill your request prior to your departure. We hope you will reach out to us again in the future for any special requests.” Thanks for nothing.
Saturday, September 11, 2021
I didn’t realize it until a week ago that we would be flying on a very large plane on the 20 year anniversary of 9/11. Brian was in junior high school when the event occurred. I still remember the events vividly. The unbelievable destruction, the sadness, the aftermath, and how much the world changed forever that day. I said lots of extra prayers for God’s protection, to send a legion of angels to watch over us and protect us as we go to help those suffering.
We arrived on an uneventful flight to the capital city of Port Au Prince. I haven’t been here since 2018. The St. Matthew medical team I usually go with decided to forgo a medical mission in 2019 and instead divert their funds to building a new school. In 2020 the world shut down due to the COVID-19 pandemic. At the beginning of 2021 the pandemic was still preventing a lot of teams from traveling. Also in Haiti, gangs were kidnapping foreigners and demanding ransom. This will deter most medical teams from making the trip.
Flying into Port Au Prince, the mountains surrounding the densely populated city are still brown, raped and deforested decades ago by the Duvaliers and their terroristic dictatorships. A thin smokey haze lingers above the city, a combination of charcoals fires for cooking and pollution. Cite Solei borders the airport runway. Deemed “the most notorious slum in the world” by the World Health Organization. I’ve been into these slums many, many times. I’ve seen hearty agriculture projects and community gardens, warm friendly people, children playing with a deflated soccer ball, and bullet holes in the thin metal walls of homes and schools.
I noticed several Haitians at the airport wearing “Black Lives Matter” and “I can’t breathe” masks. I’m always amazed how the Haitians follow politics in the US. I wonder if those wearing these masks know both sides of the stories, or are they just trying to impress others by showing they’re aware of US politics.
The airport had some new paint. A local compa band played music to welcome us as we entered the immigration area. A man in the band played a banjo. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a banjo in Haiti. The line was long, slow, and hot. No AC. No fans. No open windows. It was suffocating. Bienvenue. Welcome to Haiti.
An hour and a half later, we finally cleared immigration and headed to the luggage carousel. We were greeted by a familiar face, Max, who said he was a friend of Domond, my Haitian friend of 24 years, and he would help us get through customs, which is always an unknown encounter. How much would it cost us this time to clear our medicines, to be paid in cash, of course?
“Please go behind this wall, Madame. We need to x-ray your bags.” X-Ray? That’s new. Why are only the white people having to go behind the wall to have their bags x-rayed? Behind the wall were three conveyor belts and three large x-ray machines. Three of our four large duffels filled with medicines and supplies went through the machine as the custom agent was looking away and chatting with a co-worker. The fourth duffel was halfway through when she glanced to the screen and said something to another agent. Busted. “We need to open and see what’s inside.” “Do you have any medicine?”, she asked in Haitian Creole. I pretended I didn’t understand her. I said, “We’re going to an orphanage in Jeremie to help after the earthquake,” I said in English.
They opened the duffel, cut the tape on the 5 gallon bucket, and saw a few stuffed animals on top. They dug a little deeper and started pulling out the antibiotics and other prescription medicines. How much is this going to cost me, I kept thinking. Finally, our friend Max appeared behind the wall and mentioned Domond’s name. They spoke for a couple of minutes then they put everything back into the buckets and the duffel. We headed out the door and saw Domond who greeted us with his warm bear hug. Then I saw the two custom agents following us. They pulled Domond aside and followed us to the parking lot. We negotiated $130, cash. We paid them, packed up the truck and headed on our way. We call it the Grease Fund. We have to grease someone’s palm in order to do what we came here to do.
Ten minutes later we were safely inside the secure walls of Domond’s house. The bright, pink bougainvillea flowers hung over the top of the walls, covering the razor wire at the top of the wall. It was still very pretty. Inside the walls there are so many trees around the small yard producing papaya, avocado, limes, mango, and orange. They are always in season. Now that’s what I call fresh.
We went to our assigned rooms and settled into some chairs on the second floor balcony, enjoying the breeze. We went to Mass with Domond’s family that evening. A St. Vincent de Paul statue was next to the alter. The patron saint of charitable causes and the poor. The Bible says the poor will always be with us. That’s so true in Haiti.
Dinner was simple, fresh and tasty: rice, chicken legs, avocado, papaya, lettuce, tomato and of course, chicken sauce. In Haiti, every sauce served with a meal is chicken sauce, no matter the consistency or color, unless you are told otherwise. After dinner, we talked with Domond extensively about the Haitian political situation, kidnappings, COVID, US politics, the lack of medical teams coming to Haiti, and we didn’t find a solution for any of the issues. After a cold Prestige, the local award winning beer, it was time to go to bed.
I was in a large bedroom with 6 beds and an adjoining bathroom/shower. The window was open and the oscillating floor fan was blowing but it was very warm in the room. I laid on top of the sheets with the fan about 10 inches away blowing on high. I could not get cooled off. I think I slept maybe an hour all night. When I finally go up at 5:30 am, the cold shower actually felt good.
Sunday, September 12, 2021
I forgot how beautiful the sunrise is in Haiti. Slowly peaking up over the mountainous horizon with brilliant orange, purple, yellow and blue. The roosters echo in the background. Goats bleat, dogs bark, and the smell of charcoal outside my window. Bienvenue. Welcome to Haiti. Some things in Haiti never change.
We had to leave at 7:30 am to go to the “little airport” (domestic flights). There’s only one runway in Port Au Prince which is shared by the domestic and international flights. The little airport has been renovated. The new building is larger and now has two gates. They are labeled Gate 1 and Gate 2. The two gates are right next to each other and go out to the same tarmac and are not separated by a wall or fence or anything. They expanded the little airport to two gates. Funny.
The waiting area has undergone a pleasant upgrade – it's now cleaner and boasts new chairs. The bathroom, too, is a notable improvement, featuring two flush toilets with stall doors that actually lock. Nice! Sometimes, it's the little things that make a difference.
While at the airport, I came across a man wearing a T-shirt with a quote from MLK: “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, what are you doing for others?” I resonated with it and decided it might just be my new mantra, at least for this trip.
Our flight with Sunrise Airlines to Jeremie, a 35-minute journey along the coastline, was smooth. The airline landscape has changed; there used to be 3-4 domestic airlines, but now only one remains. Previously, there were 2-3 flights/day to Jeremie; now, it's one flight, four days/week. The plane itself is relatively new, a far cry from the 30-year-old Russian planes with torn seats. However, the baggage fees were a bit of a surprise – $190 for being "overweight." Hello, Grease Fund.
Domond's brother, Marco, joined us as an interpreter since Domond couldn't make it due to a government-mandated annual appointment. Marco has been our interpreter before, and he's excellent. The flight was uneventful, just the way I like it. Approaching Jeremie, I could see buildings damaged by the earthquake. The airport runway was a shock – completely paved and marked, a far cry from the dirt runway of the past. Jeremie seems to have transformed into having an international airport, with flights arriving from Jamaica and Cuba. Progress indeed.
Pe’ Garry, my priest friend of 23 years, welcomed us at the airport with a warm hug. Deliene, in charge of three orphanages, also joined us. Thankfully, Pe’ Garry, the orphans, and the buildings weathered the earthquake well. Some structures need repairs, but all are deemed structurally sound. The road from the Jeremie airport to town is now paved, another improvement. As we got closer to town, the devastation became more evident. St. Helen's church rectory, where Pe’ Garry is the pastor, survived, allowing us to sleep inside. Pe’ mentioned over 600 aftershocks, ranging from 4-6 on the scale.
After lunch, Brian and I opened all the duffels and rearranged/organized the medicines and supplies. We are meeting with Dr. Samuel at 5. He is the director of St. Helen’s Clinic and is Pe’s nephew. We will be working at this clinic with Dr. Samuel, another clinic doctor and four nurses. We’re taking the supplies over to the clinic to unpack and get things ready for tomorrow. We will have clinic every day this week.
Some of the staff from St. Helen’s Clinic came by for introductions and to talk about working together this week. We met Frankie, the clinic supervisor and community outreach leader, Paulie – the head nurse, and Dr. Samuel. They were all very gracious and appreciative of us coming to Haiti. They know it’s not an easy trip to make and were so thankful for us coming and bringing medicines and supplies. While we were talking on the balcony, we felt an aftershock which lasted about 10 seconds. We all looked at each other and stopped talking when it happened, then smiled and kept on talking.
We then went to the clinic and took all of our supplies. I haven’t seen the clinic since 2017. They have added a second floor which has two birthing rooms, a large bathroom with two showers, four large consultation rooms, a storage room and an administrative office. On the first floor is a lab where they can perform many tests on site, a pharmacy, two consultation rooms, a nursing triage room, several storage closets, and a very large waiting room which can seat about 50 people. The staff includes 4 nurses, 2 doctors, one pharmacist, two lab technicians, one security guard, an administrator and 2 assistants. The clinic is in the middle of town and about one block down the hill from the rectory and church.
We all ate dinner together at the rectory. We asked Pe’ Garry not to do anything elaborate for meals. Tonight, for dinner we had chicken legs, grilled grapefruit, dirty rice with beans, lasagna, sliced carrots, fried plantain, bread, avocado and a bottle of red wine from the Dominican Republic. So much for not having elaborate meals. It was all very good! I thought I was going to lose weight on this trip. I might actually gain a few pounds. It would be an insult if we didn’t eat or didn’t try a little of everything. I brought a bunch of protein bars and beef jerky because I didn’t know what the food situation would be. Guess I’ll be giving these away to patients at the clinic.
The rectory has no running water. The toilets flush by pouring a large amount of water from a 5-gallon bucket and letting gravity do its thing. There is a shower. And by shower, I mean a shower curtain, a short concrete wall in the corner to stand in and a drain. We use the water from the 5-gallon bucket and a large cup to pour water over us, use a little soap and then rinse with the cup. It’s refreshing after working a long hot day in the clinic. The waterless shampoo and camping wipes come in handy.
Monday, September 13, 2021
I slept sooooo good last night. Once I opened both doors and the window, a nice steady breeze blew through. The cool air from the Caribbean made it very comfortable. I put in my ear plugs, to drown out the constant noise from the city, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Exhaustion will do that to you. I didn’t wake up at all until 5:10 am when the most obnoxious church bell I’ve ever heard clanged on the roof right above my room. It was definitely not an angelic or heavenly sound. Then it rang every 20 minutes until 6:30. Bienvenue. Welcome to Haiti.
For breakfast we had eggs with grilled hot dogs cut up in it, mango, papaya, avocado, and bread. This is the BEST mango I’ve ever eaten! So flavorful with just the right amount of sweetness. I saw one of the young girls shimmy up the tree in the yard and pick several ripe fruits. Now that’s fresh.
The clinic is a short walk from the rectory. When we arrived at 7:30 the waiting room was filled to capacity with at least 70 people sitting shoulder to shoulder. Most were wearing a mask but most also had their nose exposed. In the lab there were no tests for COVID. The Haitian doctors said there were no cases of COVID in the area. I wonder how they know if they’re not testing for it. Interesting.
Brian and I arranged our consultation/exam area in a large corner room on the second floor. A constant cool breeze flowed through the three large windows facing the ocean. Haitian air conditioning. A corner office with a view. Two small school desks, two chairs for each patient, two chairs for our interpreters, and one long wooden bench for Brian and I to share. After a quick inventory of our supplies and medicines, we were open for business.
The first day is always clinic chaos. Free health care brings out the pandemonium in a crowd. Lots of shoving, pushing, yelling. Trying to keep the patients back from the entrance to our office so we can have a little privacy. Also, so they can’t hear what the patient is telling us because they may have the same problem when it’s their turn so they can get the same medicine. We always hope they are being truthful with their medical complaints. I like to think that 80% of them will take the medicine we give them and not sell it. Sometimes they will describe symptoms and a fever they had several months or a year ago and pretend they are sick now just so they can get the medicine.
We can usually tell when someone is really sick and when they are pretending, especially if we saw them in the waiting area laughing and talking with the other people and then the show begins when they get in front of us. It can be frustrating for us. We come to help, to heal, and provide some comfort, even if it’s temporary relief for a little while when they are surrounded by so much misery.
Some of the people are what we refer to as the walking well.
They all have headaches, usually from not eating. They all have “acid” or stomach pain, caused by the worms from poor quality water. They all have neck, back, and knee pain, caused by carrying large heavy items on their head and the hard labor of getting by each day. We deworm everyone who comes through the clinic. This will get rid of their stomach pain and acid. We give them some Tums for a few days until the worms die. We give them some Tylenol or Advil for their aches and pains.
For the older people, we usually give some prescription strength NSAIDs. The Haitians have a lot of respect for their elderly and consider age to be a blessing. I’m not sure being 70, 80, or 90 in Haiti is a blessing. Seems more like a curse to me. They develop blindness from cataracts. Decades of hard labor causes painful joints and muscles. They are always so appreciative of us. They tell us we are beautiful and say they will pray for us. They will pray for us? I pray for them, every day!
A 94-year-old lady was particularly joyful and happy. She was slumped over and walked slowly with a stick. She said she was blind in both eyes (cataracts) for about 10 years. Her only complaint was acid and back pain. She smiled the whole time she was with me, showing her 6 remaining teeth. And she kept saying “Praise God for you!” I gave her a few more NSAIDs than usual and my ziplock bag full of cashews. She said she loved “pistach” (nuts) and thanked God for me and she would pray for me. I need prayers.
Several of the locals told us a story about a voodoo priestess who was performing a ceremony when the earthquake struck near Les Cayes, close to the epicenter. The priestess and all the people at the ceremony were swallowed up in a sink hole when the ground shook, buried alive. A horrible way to die. There are still hundreds of people unaccounted for.
A 41-year-old grandmother brought in her 8-month-old granddaughter. The mother had died in the quake. The baby wasn’t holding her head up by herself. She obviously had some type of neurologic condition. Her eyes didn’t seem to focus or respond appropriately. Her neck muscles were weak but the muscle strength was good in all here extremities. She was malnourished and looked more like a 2-month-old. I referred her to the clinic’s Child Nutrition Program. Add her to my prayer list.
Cataract man.
Man with possible cancer. Young 20 year old with probable endometriosis.
Nursing students.
Rectory no running water flush toilet with bucket and gravity
The waterless shampoo and wipes will come in handy
Deut 10:17, 17 For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, 18 who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing.
Tuesday:
Ant invasion in backpack
Larette Latrise 61yom, x5- 4cm nodules colon, bloody stools
1yo boy with typhoid, malnourished, swollen feet
8mos old baby weak neck, something neuro going on, with grandma, mama died in earthquake, tummy time and nutrition program
Education videos playing while people wait
Wednesday:
Jesus will heal us all ultimately. Wheelchairs, ointments, treatments, and bandages are confiscated at the gateway to heaven. God’s children will once again be whole. Because ultimately Jesus heals us all.
Scabie babies/impetigo
Abscess
Man with diabetes foot blocks fell on it, amputation, infection
Lady leg, earthquake injury left lower leg
Haitian chicken hot pocket, fried cassava bread. Yum. Lunch
At 4 am I was awake and felt a long aftershock, lasting maybe 10 seconds, a second one occurred about 20 minutes later. When we got to the clinic, about 10 large boxes of medicines were tossed in the floor on their sides. Aftershock. Hmmmm.
Gluten free, pa gen pwoblem. Prestige, pasta, no issues. God must be giving me a pass during my stay here. Bondye bon!
Thursday:
2Cor4 Living by Faith 16 So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. 17 For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal
weight of glory beyond all measure, 18 because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.
Psalm71:14 But I will hope continually, and will praise you yet more and more. 18 So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come.
Max Let God be God. Let him bathe you in his glory so that both your breath and your troubles are sucked from your soul. Be still. Be quiet. Be open and willing. Take a moment to be still, and know that he is God. Be still and allow God to be hallowed in your life. - For the tough times
46Psaml10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
Solar power. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. That’s why god made flashlights.
Haitian roosters don’t understand the concept of time. Crow all night long!
Country without mirrors.
We have to see a lot of walking well in order to also see those who are acutely ill or those who are injured.
Quiet time in the early morning as the sun gently peeks over the ocean horizon. Just me and the roosters stirring about. Sipping a cup of room temperature tea. Time for prayers for my patients, reflection and asking God to guide our healing and bring us those who really need us. A concrete floor on your knees gives prayer a different perspective.
Baba and Francois are two interpreters we’ve known for over 20 years. They live in Jeremie and have been working with us this week. We pay them the usual rate of $50/day. They are very thankful for money since no medical teams have been coming to the area for over 2 years now. They tell us the area is safe for us and there have been no kidnappings on this part of the island. It all happens in Port Au Prince and Cap Hatien. Francois has a small wooden boat and is a fisherman when he’s not working as an interpreter. He also has a small general store where his wife works but it was crushed during the earthquake. His home was spared. He swims out to his boat anchored about 200 yards from shore.
Baba works as
I look forward to a long hot shower and ac. I wonder what the Haitians look forward to?
Boat people. $25k goudes / person. 250-300 people on the boat. Leaving in the morning. 3-4 days to FL. Boat is about 35 yards long. Usually picked up by the coast guard and sent back. I told him they need to just go to the southern boarder.
810 am on the road with Pe’ Garry and our 3 interpreters for our mobile clinic
Fisherman, hook in his hand 3 months ago. Joint of third finger the size of a golf ball. Numbed it up and lanced it. Drained. Minor surgery under local anesthesia to remove the capsule surrounding the infection so it will heal better. Lots and lots of pus flowed out. Closed it with staples. Antibiotics and pain meds. Daily wound care. He should heal fine.
Bring lunch every day to the clinic in a laundry basket. We break for about 20 minutes then start all over again.
Man with infection in his lower leg, draining for 5 years. It’s likely in the bone. We cleaned and dressed it. Gave him a lot of pain medicine and antibiotics. But it can only be cured with strong IV antibiotics. He will eventually get gangrene or sepsis, maybe lose part of his leg, and die. This would not happen in the US. Is health care really a right? Haitians might disagree with that.
Worked 10 1/2 hours today. Hot, sweaty, tired, my back aches. But I really cannot complain. I live in the greatest country in the world. I thank God every single day that I was born in America!! White Lady mango tree is my favorite. I could eat that and the Haitian fried okra every single day. It’s funny whenever I mention that I really like a specific food, then they serve it almost every meal. Like the small fried donuts.
We saw 149 patients today!
Exhausted. Inspired. Sadness. Hope. Compassion. Appreciation. Faith. Love. And the greatest of these is love.
My daughter and a good friend want to adopt a child from Haiti. I’ve never done this but I know it’s difficult. I asked Domond on Saturday and he said it’s very difficult and costs lots of money but he would see how he could help. I asked Pe Garry on Tuesday and he said he would see how he could help. At dinner tonight, Pe’ Garry said there was a mother who would like to talk to at me about adopting her 2 year old son. Wow! I wasn’t expecting that. She was 26 and has two girls and a boy. Their home was destroyed in the earthquake and they were living in the streets. Before the quake she couldn’t afford to feed all of them. The father did not help, as most Haitian fathers.
We met the boy, mother and one sister. She said it was a difficult decision but she trusted Pe’ Garry and knew her son would be well cared for in America. The father would come tomorrow and talk with us and give his permission to surrender parental rights.
I told her I appreciated her decision and how difficult it must be to give up her child. I can’t imagine making that decision myself. I love my children and to give one away because I couldn’t provide enough to sustain their life. Unconditional love. The need to sustain life. I’m glad I was never faced with such a difficult choice. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
Evenson is a sweet little boy. He readily sat on my lap as I spoke to him in Creole. He was shy, small stature with an extended belly full of worms.
Wowsers! Did this just happen so quickly. Pe’ Garry is a miracle worker. Ask and you shall receive. Didn’t see that coming, especially so quickly. Prayers. With God, nothing shall be impossible.
In the clinic they always wear their best Sunday clothing. There were 10 nursing students with us in the clinic. They were in various years of their 4 years of study. They primarily did vital signs, filled out the patient cards with their demographics, and shuffled the patients through the clinic. They wear matching uniforms: pale green skirts overlaid with a white smock, white stockings and shoes and a white nursing hat. They are doing a month long rotation at the clinic.
Friday, September 17, 2021
Hells bells at 5:04 am! Is that really necessary?!? Markinson is Quasimodo. I met him on the stairs near my room coming down from the roof. I said good morning to him, but I didn’t really mean it. He takes care of the house, animals, and agriculture.
The most beautiful sunrise this morning. Pink, purple, and orange painted across the sky stretching between the mountain peaks and laying against the ocean. God’s paintbrush is magnificent!
Today’s reading:
Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. John 13:14–16
The messages I receive during my daily devotion is always so much stronger and has a deeper meaning when I’m in Haiti. It speaks to me in a different way and heightens my awareness of God and Jesus, and of course, my faith. It always has for the past 24 years. It’s kind of like a spiritual retreat, in a weird sort of way. Haiti really gives you a different perspective and makes you appreciate the freedoms, opportunity, and abundance we have in America.
I know I can’t do it all. I can’t fix all their problems or cure all their diseases. But I can give them a few weeks of comfort, several months without worms, heal some infections, lessen their pain, but mostly show them someone truly does care.
There are several long-term projects I’ve been working on over the past 24 years: the three orphanages I started, the Micro-Credit program, the clean water project, a full-time clinic, and buildings we’ve had built (the preschool and the community center). These are things which have a longer lasting impact on the people and their lives. I can be faithful when I’m called to serve.
I enjoy my quiet alone time in the early morning. It’s hard to get alone time when you come to Haiti. I like sitting on the roof with my room temperature tea, watching the sun rise, and reflecting on my daily readings.
Sister Silo is a nun and is also Pe’ Garry’s sister. She is always up early, sweeping the floors, singing and humming softly to herself. She has such a joyful soul. She speaks a little English and I speak a little Creole, so we can have a good conversation. I speak to her in Creole and she speaks to me in English, both of us trying to practice our second language skills. I’m sure someone listening to our conversation would be confused.
I discovered this morning that she has been sleeping on the porch on a chase lounge with some cushions on it. I have a private room with a single bed in it. I asked her if I could sleep on the lounge chair tonight. I think I may have insulted her by even suggesting it. She said she was here this week to serve and help out while we’re visiting. It was her gift to me, to serve. Mesi anpil! Thank you so much!
Haiti is a country without mirrors. In the US we have mirrors in our bathrooms, living room, closets, cars, purses, restaurants, businesses. We also do selfies and have Facebook profiles touting our latest whatever and the successes of our children. We are very vain. Haiti is a country without mirrors. Mostly just trying to get by.
The large boat by the pier taking the illegal immigrants, “boat people,” to the US appears to have a lot of people on it this morning. If they do actually leave today, we will be home in Tennessee 1-2 days before they arrive Florida. I can’t begin to imagine what that voyage may be like. I’m sure the people operating this vessel don’t allow any carry-on luggage. So they basically come to the US with whatever is in their pockets. God, please keep them safe!
News today from the US: Over 9000 people held near TX border bridge, mostly Haitians, as they overwhelm CBP. From what I’ve found out, these Haitians have been living abroad in South and Central America (Chile, Brasil, Venezuela, etc.) for the past 5-10 years and recently migrated to the US southern border to try to gain illegal entry into the US. Such a mess.
No clinic for us today. We are going to Beaumont to my newest orphanage. Pe’ Garry has not been there since the earthquake to physically inspect it. The first bridge leaving Jeremie was damaged during the quake and they are not allowing large vehicles to cross so we have to park on one side, walk across the bridge and have someone pick us up on the other side. There are ten of us going this morning. This should be an interesting adventure.
At the first bridge over the river, we parked Pe Garry’s truck and walked across to the other side. No trucks are allowed on the bridge, only motorcycles and pedestrians. There are several police on both sides of the bridge to maintain compliance. Large trucks deliver merchandise, food, and supplies to one side of the bridge and they hire people to take it to the other side by motorcycle, wheel barrel, or on their heads. In Haiti, everyone is an entrepreneur.
After parking Father’s truck at the gas station by the bridge, we all walked across to the other side. There was a flurry of activity on both sides of the bridge as well as on the bridge. A friend of Father’s picked us up on the other side in a small Toyota Tacoma truck, a tap-tap. A tap-tap is a truck in Haiti painted bright colors with elaborate images and scripture. People get on/off as it drives around the city streets.
You can’t fully appreciate a rural road in Haiti unless you have driven on it, bounced on it, broken down on it, had a flat tire on it, or been banged around in the back of a truck on it. Photos don’t do it justice. Descriptions fall short of giving the whole picture. A good description comes from a friend who was new to Haiti and after driving on such a road for several hours he got out of the truck and proclaimed, “I forbade you to call this a road!” Enough said.
The road to Beaumont from Jeremie used to take 3-4 hours, but it’s only 35 km(25 miles). A collaborative project, between the Brazilians and the Haitians, to fix the roads occurred in 2016. After it was complete, it only took about 1 1/2 hours to drive the 35 km. Those Brazilians can definitely build solid mountainous roads. All the roads we saw withstood the earthquake. No cracks anywhere. There were mudslides that temporarily blocked the roads, but the paved roads were sound. Incredible.
Many years ago, one of the interpreters referred to the 3-4 hour, bouncing ride in the back of trucks as “The Mission Dance”. It’s an appropriate name as we drove through muddy pot holes the same size as the truck, banging into each other as we were usually packed in like sardines.
When they first built the new road, it stopped about 30 minutes from Beaumont on both sides. Now it goes all the way through. There is even a three-way stop with actual stop signs as you enter the main street in the “downtown” area. The road all the way up is twice as wide. It has guardrails and painted lines down the center. And it only took 1 hour to drive today. Crazy progress!
Melissa’s Place Orphanage is off the main paved road and is as bad as ever. The girls at the orphanage greeted us with a welcoming song and dance wearing their best dress. So adorable! They all looked clean, healthy, and well nourished. No orange hair, a sign of malnourishment in Haitians.
All the buildings are intact! Bondye bon! God is good! There are some walls with cracks that Pe Garry says his “construction boss” will be able to repair. All the ceilings are sound without any cracks. The extremely large cistern, about 24x24x12 feet, has a crack on the bottom and won’t hold water. There is a smaller cistern, about 6x6x4 feet, which is next to the kitchen which is able to hold water. Almost all the cisterns were cracked by the earthquake. Also, the bio-sand filter, for cleaning their water, was also cracked and will need to be replaced. I’m very impressed there is not more damage.
As we drove into the small community of Georgette, there was a large tent city composed primarily of tarps and tents. They were all on top of each other, maybe 40-50 of them side by side in a large field next to the road. These people had either lost their home or were afraid to sleep inside a concrete or wooden structure. There was another larger tent city in the distant valley, down the steep mountain from the orphanage. There are still a few remaining tent cities in Port-Au-Prince from the earthquake in 2010.
There are a couple of new buildings adjoining the previous buildings I had seen the last time I was here in 2018 and they are all connected. The kitchen is the only separate building except for the outdoor latrine. All the supporting columns are solid, without any cracks. Awesome!
The nine girls who currently live at the orphanage were eager to show me their nine bunk beds in a large open room. They all seemed to be very happy. They were obviously wearing their best dress but all of their shoes were too small for their feet with their toes and/or heels hanging off one or both ends.
I guess kids are the same everywhere. They like making big smiles and goofy faces for a camera wherever you go. The girls wanted me to take their photos and make a video of them dancing so they could then see themselves on my phone screen. They pointed at themselves and each other, giggled and laughed, then wanted to do it all over again.
Pe’ Garry brought a brand-new, trundle sewing machine with us from Jeremie. It was in the
truck bed where we were sitting on the way to Georgette. Now we will have a little more foot room on the ride back. There was an older woman who unpacked it and was very happy to see the new machine. I was told she is the sewing teacher, and she will soon be teaching the girls how to sew.
Pe’ Garry has not been able to go to PAP to pick up the items we sent on the sea container in June, which includes another trundle sewing machine and a large pallet full of material, thread, needles, and other sewing supplies. The only road going into PAP from the southwest portion of the island was primarily controlled by gangs who will take all your possessions and possibly your truck. The gangs do not bother the large transport trucks which ship supplies from the ports of entry all over the island. Makes you wonder, who is in charge of these gangs? Anyway, Domond is arranging for all the sea container supplies to be shipped on one of these large trucks to all the priests in the Jeremie area since they are too concerned about making the trip to PAP themselves.
Many fruit trees have been planted on the grounds of the orphanage: mango, papaya, avocado, bread fruit, banana, fig, plantain. And they are all bearing fruit! If you plant it, it will grow in Haiti! They also had a large garden with corn, several kinds of beans, peas, and yams.
Lunch was made for us at the orphanage: pasta, fried chicken, fried plantains, fried okra and piclese. They made everything on a charcoal fire on the floor of the kitchen. It always amazes me what they can cook on an open fire on the kitchen floor.
After lunch, it was time to say goodbye and climb back into the back of the tap-tap. I was sad to say goodbye and the girls all gave us big hugs. I knew I would see them again.
We stopped in Beaumont to visit my dear friend Madame Marie. I’ve known her for 24 years. When I used to do missions to that area, she was my go-to person for anything we needed. If we ran out of bags to put medicines into, she showed up with several hundred small plastic bags. If we needed oil for the scabies concoction we made, there it was. If we needed peanut butter to treat malnutrition, here she comes with a box full. She is a leader in the church and well respected in the community. We always stopped by her store after clinic and had a Prestige for happy hour. We lovingly called her the Dollar General Lady.
Her home and store are on the main street in Beaumont. Her home is on the second floor and her store is on the first floor. Both did not sustain any damage. She also has a hotel nearby which did not fare so well. Two of the rooms completely collapsed. She thinks she can probably repair it, but it will take time.
She is always so happy and positive. She gives great hugs! She was very surprised but happy to see me. It’s been 3 years. She teared up when I told her my mom had died in March. Everyone called my mom Baca, which means evil spirit.
My mother got the nickname Baca on the first medical mission I organized in 1998. One evening after clinic several team members took a walk through town. My mother saw a group of young people dancing in a field and someone playing the bongo. As usual, my mother decided to join in the dancing. The kids all started cheering her on and started saying “Baca, Baca”. My mother didn’t speak Creole and started saying it back to them and clapping, “Baca, Baca”. When she returned back to the rectory, she asked Domond, our interpreter, “What does Baca mean?” He said it meant evil spirit. After that, everyone called her Baca, even the priests. Somehow I became Ti Baca. Little evil spirit. Eventually, when my daughter, Kara came on several missions, she became Ti Ti Baca. Little, little evil spirit.
The last night of every mission I’ve been on in Haiti is a party. Maybe it’s a Catholic thing, a Haitian thing, or both. It always starts an hour after it’s supposed to, different age groups of children sing and dance, and there’s usually a short skit with several children. Dinner and
water are provided for the 50-60 people in attendance. The priest and some of the community leaders will give a speech and they may ask someone on the team to say a few words. Sometimes there is a DJ and dancing after dinner. It usually lasts 3-4 hours. It is always fun but it can be exhausting after working a long week in the clinic.
Tonight there was about 60 people in attendance. No one wore a mask. The youngest girls danced first, then the older girls. One little boy, about 4, sang with the girls. He held the microphone and sang with a loud joyful voice. So darn cute!
Pe’ Garry, as usual, was a gracious host making sure the guests of honor (me and Brian) ate first. Then he made sure everyone else had a plate of food and a drink, even the youngest.
It’s surprising how much dust you can get on you by riding in the back of an open truck bed for 5 hours. I went through 6 large wet wipes trying to clean off before the party. We’re flying back to PAP in the morning. It’s been a good week but I’m glad to be going home.
I have to be careful when I tell the Haitian cooks that I really like a particular dish. Twenty years ago I told one of Pe’ Garry’s cooks that I really liked the Haitian donuts. They are small and deep fried. Sometimes they have powdered sugar or cinnamon on them. The next morning the cook gave me two, one gallon Ziplock bags full of Haitian donuts to take home. Of course, I shared them with everyone on the team and still had lots left over.
On Tuesday I mentioned to the cook I really liked the fried okra. I never eat okra at home, not even if it’s fried, but I really like the way the make it. Starting Wednesday, they severed it for every meal, except breakfast. It’s really good!
Saturday, September 18, 2021
John 13:20 Very truly, I tell you, whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me.
No Hells bells this morning. Bondye mesi. Thank you God. I think Quasimodo was tired after the party last night.
One last Haitian countryside sunrise before we go home tomorrow. The strong breeze gently blowing across the ocean. It’s cloudy but a soft pink hue can be seen across the mountain tops. Ahhhh. So beautiful, so relaxing. I hope I can come back soon.
Guess what I got this morning after breakfast? Two, one-gallon Ziplock bags filled with fresh Haitian donuts. Some things never change in Haiti. I graciously thanked the cook then shared my gift with the interpreters and Domond’s family.
I think I’m becoming a Haitian, everything hurts this morning. My back from slumping over patients all week and sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress. My butt is sore from sitting on a hard wooden bench in clinic all week. My ears hurt from wearing ear plugs and using my stethoscope to see 586 patients in four days between me and Dr. Brian.
There is a gas shortage throughout the country. One of the gang leaders will not allow the dock workers to unload the gas that has arrived in PAP. There is a huge black market for gas. Usually, gas is about $5/gallon (US), but the black market is charging up to $10/gallon. The gas station owners/workers are taking the gas they receive from the big gas trucks and they sell it to certain locals who put it into 55 gallon drums or buckets or large Rubbermaid storage containers. I’m sure none are OSHA compliant. Then they re-sell it to the consumers in smaller containers for the upcharge of $10/gallon. We saw young children, 5-6 years old, pouring the gas from these large containers into 1-5 gallon cannisters with a large cup. I wonder what OSHA would say about this process?
Instead of speed bumps, they have speed ditches. Even the paved roads in town have a large ditch about 8” deep and 12” wide, from one side of the road to the other. These are strategically placed in the straight-a-ways. I guess it’s a way to slow traffic.
The old Cathedral church in Jeremie is mostly destroyed from the earthquake. There is only one statue remaining on top of one corner near the front. No insurance adjuster to call. They have been building a new Cathedral church for about 20 years. It had some damage but it’s not too bad.
The airport security at the Jeremie airport is a joke. One man with gloves opened our suitcases and backpacks and kind of looked through our stuff. I guess my TSA Precheck doesn’t mean anything here. They had to weigh our luggage, backpack and us. Then we had to walk through a metal detector and sit in the small waiting room. At least there is AC, sort of. As we were waiting, several more people went through the metal detector which alarmed very loudly. The agent with the yellow vest did nothing. I guess the metal detector is just theater. A prop.
While we were waiting, a large UN humanitarian helicopter landed. It had about 6 people get off with many large boxes of supplies. We didn’t get a chance to talk to them to see where they were going. The helicopter had WFP (World Food Pegram) on it. I saw a compound near the bridge yesterday that had WFP on it. They obviously had a presence here before the earthquake.
There have been improvements for the airport now that it’s “international”. There are a few flights several times each month from Cuba, Jamaica, and Turks & Caicos, but there’s still no tower and no runway lights. It used to be a dirt runway and prior to a plane landing, a guy with a whistle would go out into the field where the runway is and clear out any lingering livestock like goats or cows. Now there’s a chain link fence surrounding the runway and the whole property.
We’re leaving only 4 minutes late. The Venezuelan pilots keep things on time. They don’t follow Haitin time. On this flight, there was a flight attendant recording in English about the safety features of this airplane. At the end it said “Thank you for flying American Domestic”. The airline we’re flying is called Sunrise. Interesting.
Evenson’s father came by this morning to talk with Pe’ Garry. He said he was willing to sign the paperwork for the boy to be adopted. The boy and his two sisters were also with him. The girls were very sweet playing with him, holding his hand, and having him take turns sitting on their laps. It’s sad that they may be separated soon. But I have to think of the love and opportunity Evenson will have in the US.
My daughter Kara and her husband Justin are interested in adopting a child, as well as my friend Tasha and her husband. Kara said when she was checking into it, the agency in the US said it would cost $30-40k, which is way over their budget. That seems ridiculous. Tasha said the agency they are working with said the same but it was a very long and difficult process. But they haven’t worked with Pe’ Garry. He knows people and is a miracle worker.
There’s a Haitian proverb: If it is God who sends you, He will pay your way. In other words, God will provide if it is God’s will take.
The process now will be to have Pe Garry’s friend in PAP who is a lawyer, to fly to Jeremie and meet with both parents to see if this can proceed further. Then the lawyer will give an estimate of what it will cost and about how much time it will take. Evenson will then be placed in Pe Garry’s orphanage in Jeremie. He will be fed and cared for there and will start school. The adopting family would have to pay for Evenson’s expenses while he’s in the orphanage, maybe $100-200/month. He will let me know how the process is going and the expenses. I’ve never done this before. We’ll pray and let God guide us through the process.
Apparently, Francois was taking photos of us in the clinic and posting it on Facebook. Someone told us today they were tracking some of what we were doing in Jeremie on Facebook. We hardly have phone service in the area, so how is he posting on Facebook?
After the earthquake in 2010, the Clinton Foundation and Bill Clinton worked to have a business friend to install cell towers all over Haiti, Digicell. It is a pay-as-you-go phone service. Haitians who cannot afford to send their children to school, buy enough food to eat and don’t have clean water, now have cell phones all over the country. I find this to be a bizarre cultural dichotomy. Strange indeed.
While we were waiting at the Jeremie airport, Brian just realized, I’m the only blanc (white person) he’s seen since we left PAP 6 days ago. I had not thought about it or realized it until now.
After we landed in PAP and picked up our luggage we headed over to the “big airport” next door for our COVID test to return to the US. There was a large bus with the inside converted into a small mobile clinic for testing. A small tent was sent up just outside the airport entrance for the intake. You complete a quick questionnaire and get a number and wait your turn to go inside the bus. It was about a ten-minute wait. We each paid $85 US and got our nose swabbed. I noticed the technicians doing the nasal swabs changed their gloves when they tested Brian and me, but they did not change their gloves when they were swabbing a Haitian. There were signs everywhere that said not photos or video. Why? What’s the big secret with swabbing noses?
They are making bank on this testing site at $85 a pop, and I bet they get the tests free of charge. Then we went outside the bus and waited about 20 minutes for the results. A few prayers to St. Anthony as we waited. About 75% of the people were wearing a mask and only half of those had their nose covered. Theater. We are both negative! Yay!! We can fly home tomorrow.
We went to the Star market to buy some pure vanilla extract which is so very cheap here. An 8 oz bottle costs less than $2 US. In the US a 1/2 oz bottle costs about $4. Dr Don called and asked us to pick up a case, 24 bottles. Mission accomplished, along with Cuban cigars, Cohibas. The cigars would cost $200-300 in the US. I got 25 of them for $40 US.
Then we went by Matthew 25 House, a guest house for visitors run by The Parish Twinning Program. I was asked to do an assessment. No visitors have come fo about 2 years. It has mostly been vacant. Two security guards live there and take shifts. Mostly it’s used for storage now. The house has been used as a guest house for about 30 years. It’s had a hard life and needs a lot of work to make it a primo place to stay again. It used to sleep 30-40 guests with meals provided, a gift shop with local crafts, cold Prestige, a sanctuary to network with other groups, transportation to/from the airport, and to hire interpreters for your mission. We’d like for it to be that place again.
I took a lot of pictures and talked to Domond about the needed upgrades and work. It’s possible. I have a lot of great memories of Matthew 25. As I took photos, I recalled that I have slept in every bedroom in this house. Don and I slept in the yard out back for 19 days after the earthquake in 2010. I’ve met so many people and so many new friends from around the US and Haiti over the past 24 years. Yeh, lots of memories here.
When we arrived back at Domond’s house we repacked our two carry-ons and one duffel to protect the plethora of vanilla and some Haitian coffee and to be cautious of the weight limits. We enjoyed a cold Prestige on the balcony out back with a somewhat cool breeze, assisted by an oscillating fan. We reflected on the 586 patients we saw this week, the good, the bad and the ugly. We had a lot of laughs. No regrets. We do whatever we can with what we have, and do what we do for the least of our brothers and sisters. Bondye bon. God is good. I’m glad we were able to come.
We both needed a shower. A shower with a single hose stream coming out of the shower head feels so much better than a two cup shower or wet wipes. There’s something about a little lather from your head to your toes that is refreshing and good for the soul. You turn on the water to quickly get wet, turn it off and lather up. Then you quickly turn on the water to rinse. It’s quick but so very awesome!
This is the first trip when my Haitian friends and interpreters were not hopeful about their country. Usually they say, “Oh that’s just Haiti. Things could be worse.” They asked us “What do you think will happen to Haiti?” I tell them I don’t know. America is in turmoil too and I don’t know what will happen to the USA. It seems we are heading towards a civil war with so much chaos, mayhem and division, and Haiti may be heading towards another dictator.
I must say, having a room to myself everywhere we went was quite nice. I felt a little spoiled, in a third-world country. Having my alone time is something I usually don’t get on a mission trip. I’ve always shared a room with 2-6 other women.
Supper tonight was especially delicious: tender goat, fried chicken legs, fried plantains, piclese, Haitian rice, and salad (avocado, tomato, lettuce, shredded carrots and chopped
green beans). Every picklese recipe in Haiti is a little different. Some are spicier, some have more onions, some add shredded cabbage. It’s always good. The piclese we had at the orphanage was especially hot. It actually made my nose run and my eyes water. That’s a little above my hotness threshold. And this was the first goat I’ve had this trip. A mission trip to Haiti is not complete without eating goat, the other red meat.
A big storm blew in tonight. It cooled things off a bit but unfortunately, I had to close the only window in my room to keep the rain from falling on my bed. I have a fan about 10 inches away from me. Hopefully, it will keep me cool enough tonight.
Domond brought us a few after dinner drinks on the back balcony. Creme las (local liqueur made from coconut, goats milk, spices, and some other stuff) with some Barbancourt (local Haitian rum), some of Domond’s homemade liquor (fermented orange peel, pineapple rind, spices, and some other stuff) which “doesn’t have a name”, and some Haitian moonshine. We both tried a bit of everything. I liked the creme las and Barboncourt. I should sleep good tonight. I need to go bed now.
Sunday, September 19, 2021
No Hells bells this morning. A loud mooing cow near the gate awoke me. A man was apparently upset with the cow and yelling at her and the cow was equally upset with the man. The argument lasted about 10 minutes. I’m not sure who won.
1Cor 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right. —James 2:8
Good words to reflect upon. Love is indeed the greatest of these. I hope the people we treated and encountered while we were here saw our love.
Going home today! It’s usually a transition for several weeks. When I get home, I will leave my suitcase and backpack with everything in it in the garage for a few days. Then I’ll throw everything that can be washed into the washing machine. I’ll take my clothes off in the garage and go straight to the shower and take the best shower ever. Lots of hot running water, lots of shampoo, and lots of soap. Lather up, rinse, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat.
Greg will pick us up at the Nashville airport. I’ll give him a very long wrapped up bear hug and a kiss. It will be so good to be back in his arms and have him by my side again. Greg has been with me on most of the missions I have organized. Those trips have always been my favorites, when we did it together, working, sweating, laughing, making memories together.
As I’m getting ready this morning, I think of all the last times until the next time. The last time I have to brush my teeth with bottled water. The last time I have be to wear earplugs to sleep. The last time I have to pour a bucket of water to flush the toilet. One last Prestige at the airport. I know it’s only 10 am. Don’t judge me.
Domond always makes the sign of the cross before he drives anywhere. Probably a good practice in Haiti.
The Aristide Foundation is thriving. Bertrand Aristide was the first elected president of Haiti after the terrifying dictatorships of the Devalueas, Papa Doc and Baby Doc. Aristide was a local priest in PAP and created a revolution and uprising. The Malato’s of Haiti owned all the businesses and didn’t want a minimum wage or safe working conditions for children. Haitian politics has been very complicated over the past 200+ years. I’ve met Aristide and his wife, who were always helpful when he was in power with getting our medicines through Haitian Customs. He built more schools and clinics during his presidency than at any other time in their history. He was exiled, with the help of the US government and sent to live in another country. He was eventually permitted to return to Haiti about 5 years ago. Since then, he doesn’t give interviews, or speak out against anything going on in the government. He quietly does lots of good works with his foundation: technical schools, a university, clinics, and helping the poor any way he can. He keeps quiet on politics and lives in a large house not far from Domond, with lots of security.
There was a lot of rain last night which causes a lot of large “puddles” on the road on the way to the airport. Along with a lot of trash being washed together on the roadside and forming large piles of debris. Why does Haiti have to be so ugly?
Domond dropped us off at the departure area for the “big airport” (international airport). As always, two men immediately swarmed in and tried to carry our luggage and to show us the way to the airport, for a tip of course. It’s only about 20 yards to the entrance but they can be persistent. I had to tell them several times we didn’t need their help. We finally made it inside. Yay!
The international airport now has auto-flush toilets, automatic soap and water dispensers,
and blow dryers for your hands. Wow!
Immigration and “security” took about an hour to get through. We have to put our carry-on, backpack and us through screening twice. I picked up 3 bottles of Barboncourt rum in the duty free store. One bottle is coconut flavored. That’s new. Can’t wait to try it. Greg likes the 5 star rum. A nice gift he will appreciate.
On the plane to Miami. Ready to go. It’s a full flight, as usual, going and coming into PAP. It’s a large, 787 plane. Nine seats across. Mostly Haitians. A few stragglers still boarding.
Looks like we’re leaving on time. Always a good thing. We only have 1 1/2 hours in Miami to go through immigration, get our luggage, go through customs, recheck our luggage, then get to the gate to Nashville. Pa gen pwobwen. Not a problem.
Funny. We landed in Miami at gate D27 and we fly out of gate D26 to Nashville. But we have to go through immigration, get our bags, go through customs then recheck them. We only have an hour before our flight starts boarding. There’s never an Easy Button when going to or from Haiti.
Bad weather and poor customer service caused us to miss our connection to Nashville. Apparently, the American Airlines baggage handlers cannot remove our luggage from the plane when it’s raining. So we waited and waited. Meanwhile a flight from Cancun who landed after us, got their luggage and left while we still waited and waited. Probably not an American flight. Instead of getting in to Nashville at 5 pm, now we get in at 11 pm. Poor Brian then has a 3 hour drive home and has clinic starting at 8 am. Like I said, no Easy Button.
Best burger ever! It’s funny, whenever I return from Haiti, everything is the best ever for about 2 weeks. Coldest drink ever! Best salad ever! Best shower ever! Best sleep ever! Best pillow ever! Coldest AC ever! Best road ever!
I learned a new Creole term this trip. “Gwo eray!” Hot mess. That’s the best way I can
describe Haiti right now. Mission teams are not going to Haiti right now. First COVID prevented teams from going to Haiti. Now there is fear of the gangs and kidnappings. These teams also put a lot of money into the economy while they are there.
I have to say while we were in Haiti, I never felt nervous, afraid, or concerned. I felt like God was providing a legion of angels to watch over us and keep us safe. I was always at peace, even when we were in PAP.
I don’t know what their future will hold. It’s very fragile and uncertain right now. I pray for Haiti every day!
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