Kan Klodin Komanse

We finished out our first week of camp Friday, and let me start off by saying that it was a great one!  Because I have been in Gros Morne preparing for camp since May, I have taken on the role of Co-Director with Steve, a year-long volunteer.

When we walked in on Monday, the energy and excitement was at an all-time high.  Kids were lined up neatly for flag raising but the place was just buzzing!  I was quite nervous as I approached the front to address the campers in my broken Kreyol.  After flag raising, we conducted our preliminary role call.  Mèt Eli saved me from mispronouncing about 250 names by calling all the names for me.  Each child was assigned to one of 20 groups and asked to sit with their groups for morning meal. At first role call, our numbers were down due to the mud preventing children making it to Fon Ibo.  As the week drew on and more campers worked their way onto the roster, our numbers jumped to about 260.  We have a staff of 28 counselors – 8 Americans and 20 Haitians.  All the counselors have been immensely helpful in keeping the campers in line and sticking to the schedule. 

A typical day at camp looks like this:

8:00-8:30 AM:            Flag raising, prayer, and singing

8:30-9:00 AM:            Breakfast

9:00-10:00 AM:          Recreation

10:00-11:00 AM:        River

11:00-11:30 AM:        Mass Practice (M/W/F), Talent Show practice (T/R)

11:30-12:30 PM:        Lunch

12:30-1:15 PM:          Crafts

1:15-1:30 PM:             Singing, Dancing, and Dismissal

Our theme for this year is “men nan la men, ansanm nou va mache”, which essentially means, “hand in hand, together we will walk”.  The theme was decided upon by the Haitian counselors at one of our preliminary meetings.  Many of our crafts and activities for the summer correspond with the theme.  On Thursday, all the children helped to create a beautiful banner to display at camp by placing their own precious little handprints onto it in all the colors of the rainbow.  At the end of the day, we brought them all together for a group picture. 

Our first week was a bit challenging due to the fact that we couldn’t venture to the river until Friday due to the mud and high waters.  The trail out to the river is a small footpath that is easily turned into complete mush.  To fill the hour time slot, we suggested playing some large group games.  I was surprised to find that the Haitian counselors were not familiar with the idea of games such as these.  Mr. Morse and Mrs. Schoenwetter, my elementary school PE teachers, would have been so proud to hear that I taught them to play “Man from Mars”.

The kids are just having a ball.  It is so good for them to have a safe place to go during these hot days where they receive care, education, and a good meal.  There are, however, many children who live in the Fon Ibo area who are unable to attend camp due to age or lack of capacity.  My heart goes out to these children. At any given time, I look out to the edges of the school property line and see the faces of so many littles peering in to see what the commotion is about.  They long to be a part of it all.  Oftentimes, catch one of them trying to enter camp without a camp t-shirt or registration.  They may be the brother or sister of another camper, a student at Fon Ibo, or, worst of all, a child who lives in the area yet does not attend school.  These kids are the poorest of the poor and would benefit from the camp experience.  I wish I could just let them all in; unfortunately, we do not have enough craft supplies or food to allow them to join. 

As could be expected, I’ve found myself a few little buddies – campers who can be expected to find their way to my side at one time or another throughout a day.  One of these guys is my deaf pal Papouche.  Another is a young boy named Liberson.  Liberson has a fairly restrictive stuttering problem that tends to attract the ridicule of other campers.  He, like Papouche, is such a sweetheart.  He makes a point each day to say thank you to the counselors and he loves to help out.  I’ve made it a point to watch out for these two boys (go figure) throughout camp.  I am astounded by the response of not just the campers, but also of the counselors, to their conditions.  It has been very eye-opening.  I can see ever more clearly why behavior issues naturally stem from communication disorders.  The people the boys try to communicate with simply brush them off saying they can’t hear or give them a hard time for not being able to “spit it out”.  It has been a good practice in counseling to work with the counselors, explaining that the boys’ communication will only improve if we treat them with patience and do anything possible to aide in their communication.  Hopefully this little bit of education will generalize to the way they regard individuals with disabilities in general. 

My favorite part of the day is singing and dancing before final prayer and dismissal.  When all the kids begin chanting it’s as if I’ve traveled back in time to one of our high school pep rallies.  All the kids pack into the largest classroom in the school.  Their voices carry straight out the windows and penetrate all the houses in the area.  Children jump around and scream as if their lives depend on it.  Children and counselors keep the beat on traditional handmade tambou drums.  It’s as if the beat is ingrained into them.  The energy is spectacular.  I will be sure to catch it on tape, but a recording could never really do it justice. 

Next week we will be trying a few new things with the schedule and mealtime strategies, but I won’t bore you with the details of all that.  We have our talent show on the 22^nd and our soccer match against Jean XXIII’s summer camp on the 25^th, so watch for updates coming your way soon!

The Bridge Committee

Last week, we held our first official community meeting for those interested in helping with the Bridges to Prosperity (B2P) pedestrian footbridge proposal.   We had an astounding 109 people in attendance!  The people contributed a great deal of information that will aid in our making the case for the social, economic, educational, and medical benefits of the bridge.  We planned to meet again with Msye Henri Michel, the head of the Bridge Committee, once Dan arrived with the B2P manual to measure the span of the riverbed.

Our meeting was scheduled for 3:30 PM Sunday afternoon.  As we crossed the riverbed, B2P manual and tape measure in hand, we saw a crowd of more than 100 people gathered to help us.  We measured the span of the riverbed and found it to be 680’ from bank to bank and 280’ (85 m) from one of the banks to a place suitable for placement of the other platform.   

Just as we were finishing up, it started to pour down rain.  We ran up the road in the muck and the mire to Msye Henri’s house with our Haitian entourage and had another impromptu meeting.  We went over the different aspects needed for the proposal (e.g., daily crossing survey, census of communities to be served, and delineated which aspects they would be responsible for.  We elected a head mason and carpenter who will work with Msye Henri to form a 10-person team.   I think that may be quite a daunting task given the fact that everybody wants to be a part of it.

On our way back to the house, we had to traverse quite a rough terrain.  The rain had caused the water to rise and there was mud covering everything.  Prince Dan, with his nice dry tennis shoes, did his best to stay dry.  He walked up and down the river bank looking for an ideal spot to cross.  Recognizing his attempts to stay clean, one of the Haitians standing nearby walked over and picked him up piggy-back style.  It was a sight to see no doubt!  Dan, a full grown (almost) white man, clutching to the back of a Haitian.  I thought I'd die from laughing so hard.  After a few pictures (to be added later) and joking around with the guys about how I was tougher than Dan, we moved on. 

It has been quite overwhelming to see the support we have in this project.  Both Dan and I have our doubts about the technical feasibility of the project and have discussed scrapping the work that has already been done for the Campeche location in order to relocate to a seemingly more feasible spot.  However, after seeing the hope and pride the people of the community have taken in helping us, I really feel I have no choice but to complete it.  Sometimes it is not about success or failure.  Rather it is about dreaming big and allowing others to be a part of that dream.   Who knows…maybe it’ll work out.  Never stop shooting for the stars.  If you miss, you might just land on the moon.   

Haitian Healthcare

On Wednesday of last week we finally made it back down to Port au Prince to have Baba (Papouche as we now fondly call him) examined by the doctor in the ENT’s office. 

We had organized a sort of agreement with one of the nurses in the clinic at PAP General Hospital the week before, so when we called, she was waiting with his dossier (preliminary paperwork essentially) in hand.  As we entered, I was struck by the apparent chaos in the clinic.  An ENT’s office is not typically a place of emergency by nature, yet upon entering, I would have thought I was walking into an ER experiencing an influx of train wreck patients.  The patients who were waiting to see the doctor were placed in a waiting room behind a barred door.  Unfortunately, this proved to be a necessary precaution.  People pushed their way to the barred door and constantly begged for admittance from the guard who told them there was a protocol that must be followed; they would have to wait their turn. 

Because we are Americans, we were given special privilege and allowed to wait outside of the barred waiting room.  Our dossier was also given priority.  Despite these exceptions, our trip still took three and a half hours.  After our two-hour wait, we entered the examination room with Papouche.  To say the least, he was apprehensive of what the doctor was about to do.  I was astonished when the doctor simply pulled back on his ear, looked in, and reported to us that everything was A-OK.  He hadn’t so much as asked what was wrong with the boy.  Brittany and I, at this point quite frustrated with the man, explained that just a few days before there had been blood and visible scarring in his right ear and that he has been deaf since birth.  I pointed to the otoscope and explained that it was necessary to use it in order to get an accurate picture of what was going in the ear.  I’m not entirely sure he appreciated my input, but he cooperated with my request all the same.  Once again, he reported no problems.  An audiogram, he said, was what we needed.  All we needed to do was hop across the hall to the hearing booth.  Perfect!  With information derived from an accurate audiogram, I could fit him with a hearing aid and begin the road to therapy. 

The key word in that sentence is “accurate”.  I got my audiogram, but I’m not sure I am any more confident in the results than I would have been if Noah had conducted the test.  Not only did was the machine itself quite out-of-date, but the technician appeared to know little about how to complete an audiogram.  Dr. McNamara would have been sorely disappointed!  After she was finished, I explained that I was a student and would appreciate the opportunity to practice conducting the test myself.  Although she argued it was a lost cause since he couldn’t hear anything, she obliged to allow me to try.  Unfortunately, by this point, we had lost all concentration from Papouche.  

After finishing in the booth, we were directed back to the examination room where the doctor told us there was nothing they could do and signed our paperwork.  As we left, I noticed that women, men, and children who had arrived before we had appeared to be no closer to seeing the doctor that they were hours before.  The nurse “filed” our paperwork in a stack of manila folders about three foot high and we were on our way. 

Our trip to the hospital was a shocking and eye-opening experience.  I was alerted to the harsh realities of the Haitian medical system.  I cannot imagine waiting like that for a day-to-day examination, much less to address a more immediate need. 

Tonight during prayer, Becca read an excerpt from In the Parish of the Poor, a book by former President Aristide.  This excerpt described a scene from the 1980s where a woman was unable to access the medical care she required during her pregnancy due to her own poverty and the poverty of the greater country.  I was struck by the truth that, in Haiti, the scene seemed timeless.  How sad it was to realize that since his writing, the country has not seemed to advance.  The scene he described is just as common today as it was all those years ago.  Healthcare is but one example of this. 

This pushed me to another important realization.  As we push to help Haiti advance in healthcare, we bring in the newest technology – those things that help us to make miraculous discoveries and recognize problems earlier and earlier – yet we often fail to recognize and address the overall lack of knowledge needed to organize and run an effective clinic.  The problem is greater, so much greater.  We hear of the brain drain from Haiti.  This is the problem that must be addressed.  In order to improve the state of the country, there must be a way established to keep the best minds, the most driven and ambitious individuals, in Haiti.  We can do nothing until we can help them to do that. 

So we must walk in solidarity with them.  Not simply give in terms of donations, fundraising, and work.  We must walk with them, show them how to improve their lives, and teach them the background knowledge needed to troubleshoot when a problem arises.  It really all goes back to the idea of solidarity.  Aristide writes:

“In a dark corner of our little world, I take up my pen to write to you.  The light I set by my side to illuminate my task is a faint light, but an unwavering one.  It will grow stronger as I write, because it is the light of solidarity, and as you read this letter, too, the same light that is by your side will grow in intensity, because the light of solidarity is the one beacon that we the oppressed have to light our way through the dark corners and byways of our little world.  If we hold that torch ahead of us, we will never stray from our path, though our road is long and weary and filled with obstacles.  The force of solidarity at work is a recognition that we are all striving toward the same goal, and that goal is to go forward, to advance, to bring into this world another way of being.  That new way of being can be brought into this world through solidarity.”