I returned home from Haiti on April 21st, but am now only able to write about the rest of my experiences. I sat down to try and write more of the experiences I had while there, but anything I wrote just seemed to so inadequately describe my feelings. I imagine that's still the case, but I've been able to gather a few thoughts since then, and will at least share those.
I'm also posting a photo of my fantastic translator, Edner. I worry about him everyday. The sad fact is that right now in Haiti, even those with some kind of skill are unable to find employment. Edner worried everyday about the day that the field hospital would close (last I heard, the end of May). and he would be unable to feed his young son and wife.
I've been to Haiti a total of 7 times since 2004, two of those times since the earthquake. It seemed like every year I went, there were small sign of progress - some functioning traffic lights, more police presence, improving conditions in many of the orphanages, a youth group picking up litter - I know it may sound inconsequential, but those small things are big in Haiti. But I honestly don't know if Haiti will ever recover from the blow dealt by the earthquake. We visited Port-au-Prince and I didn't see any sign of the billions of dollars that have been raised/promised to Haiti. And since there is really no functioning government, and no one else to take the lead, I doubt the Haitian people will ever benefit from that money. I truly hope I'm wrong, but as we drove through the streets, there was a sinking feeling that has not left me. On the Miami to Dallas leg of my trip home, I was in the very back of the plane, and everything I saw just seemed to come crushing down on me. I started crying, and didn't stop until just before we landed. I think the flight attendants thought I was crazy.
The field hospital in Fond Parisien was still very busy, but there wasn't as many acute medical issues on this trip (except for the multiple patients from the community with motor vehicle/motorcycle accidents, burns, incarcerated hernias - a mixed bag of everything). Our orthopedic surgeons removed a total of about 40 external fixators, which was great, because then those patients could finally get up and move around. One of my responsibilities was to help the patients who were ready to be "discharged" - but how do you discharge someone who is living in a tent? A few of the patients had relatives who they planned to move in with, but most had nowhere to go. It became a real emotional drain when I would get the discharge paper with the patient's name who was medically cleared to leave the hospital. On one occasion, I found the patient - a 9 year old with now healed skin grafts - in his tent with his 3 other younger siblings, and their grandmother who was their caregiver. I found out that both the parents had been killed in the earthquake, and the emaciated grandmother, who looked like she could barely stand up, was trying to care for these children. All I could think of was that these kids will soon lose their grandmother, adding to the already staggering number of orphans living in Haiti. I gathered as many supplies as I could for her - a couple of tents, cots, clothing, food, and a cooking kit to give her before she re-located to the refugee camp down the road. My heart sank as I watched the tap tap pull away with her, the kids and all the supplies. It felt so hopeless.
There was one night where I had found a secluded place on the veranda of one of the classrooms so I could skype with my kids. Some of the young boys from the "unaccompanied minor" tents walked by and came up to listen and watch out of curiosity. Most of them have spent much of their lives in orphanages, and consequently speak English since most of the orphanage caretakers speak English. They started talking to my kids and teaching them some Creole words. My son Ian, talked to several of the boys and answered many of their questions. After almost 20 minutes of this, we said goodbye and they then wanted to see the photos on my computer. My screensaver photos kept coming up - vacation photos, birthday parties, holidays, sporting events, etc... They were all fascinated, but I have to say that I felt a bit ashamed at seeing the obvious disparity in our lives. After a few minutes, I quickly shut down my computer. The next morning, I emerged from my tent to find one of the boys - he had to be about 7 years old - waiting for me. He ran up to me, grabbed my hand and asked me in the most serious way if I could take him home with me when I leave. I leaned down and gave him a hug, and could hardly get the words out to tell him why that would be impossible. I returned to my tent to cry and skipped breakfast that morning.
It was experiences like those, and seeing the continuous stream of people being discharged to a refugee camp with no running water and no electricity that made me unable to keep writing. There were so many other heartbreaking stories, but they're so personal and painful, that I haven't been able to talk or write about them. I just fear for the people of Haiti and the second wave of death that will come from disease, malnutrition and the complete lack of action to help Haiti rebuild. The Haitian people have always been resourceful and resilient, but they need the world's help more now than ever. I hope they won't be forgotten.