mes ami "Carlos"

There is a medical clinic housed in the same facility as the amputee clinic that offers general medical care, dental care, and physical therapy. One day while I was wandering around the clinic I was told Sister Genevieve, one of the Hispanic Sisters who works in the medical clinic, wanted me to meet someone. I didn’t know what to expect. She introduced me to “Carlos”.  Carlos is a little boy who had been abandoned at the clinic the previous week. We don’t know his name, but the Sisters call him Carlos. They tell me he is 7 or 8, but I could easily carry him. When they found him he was dehydrated and malnourished. He doesn’t speak, they think Carlos is autistic.

That morning Sister Genevieve wasn’t having any luck feeding Carlos and she needed some assistance.  Eventually  we opted to put food in the tube that they had previously threaded into his nose and down to his stomach. After he was fed, we gave Carlos a bath in the courtyard from a 5 gallon bucket. Then we dressed him in clean clothes. From there Carlos and I went and hung out in the physical therapy room for a while. I don’t know if he understood a word I said in English and Creole, but he would periodically take my hand. Once Sister Genevieve figured out that Carlos wasn’t going to take a nap she asked me to try and feed him again. Carlos calmly ate for me, eventually he took about 4 oz of yogurt. Before the morning was over Carlos smiled for me.

One of the other mothers at the clinic asked me if Carlos was the child who had been abandoned. I said yes. She questioned how any mother could leave her child never to see him again, as she held her own daughter with special needs. I didn’t have the language skills to tell her that I don’t know how a mother could leave her child. At the same time I believe Carlos’ mother thought she was doing what was best for her son.

When I returned to the clinic two days later I learned the Sisters had placed Carlos with the Missionaries of Charity, Mother Teresa’s community.

This day please join me as I pray …for consolation for Carlo’s mother, that she will somehow come to know that her son is being cared for… in gratitude for the Missionaries of Charity who care for those who have nowhere else to go … and for Carlos, mes ami.

Painting feet

One day at the clinic Sister Isa asked me to paint feet. You see the feet for the prostheses are “band-aid beige” and the patients are not. There are a number of prostheses stored at the clinic which belong to patients who haven’t taken them home yet because they haven’t quite mastered walking with them. These prostheses were available for painting. In preparation for painting I retrieved the prostheses from storage, removed the shoes, and carefully kept the given shoe with its respective leg. Sister Isa made a point of telling me that if I mixed up the shoes I would have to sort it all out latter. No small feat! (pun intended)  Ultimately, I spray painted six or seven feet a “dark chocolate” brown. As I painted the feet I thought of our Holy Thursday ritual of feet washing; remembering Jesus’ call to service. I was anonymously tending to the feet of the patients. Our hope is that this simple act will help the people to accept their prosthesis as part of themselves, help them to be whole. Latter in the day I walked and talked with Margaret, a tall, young, beautiful Haitian woman who lost her right leg above the knee in an autobus accident. I wondered if she noticed that the foot in her shoe was “dark chocolate” brown.

Laundry Day!

As an American there are many day to day activities which hither too I have taken for granted. No more! Case in point; laundry. While I was in the Novitiate in California I use to do my laundry in my sleep. I would put the clothes in the washing machine and go to bed. At some point in the middle of the night I would get up and transfer the clothes to the dryer. In the morning I would awaken to clean clothes! No such luck here in Haiti.

Laundry for me in Haiti begins with carrying my clothes to the courtyard. We have both metal and plastic basins for clothes washing; they are about two feet in diameter and eight inches deep. Next I transfer water from the cistern to two basins with a bucket; one for washing and one for rinsing. The laundry soap is a white ball about the size of a tennis ball, it conveniently fits in the palm of my hand. Once I have everything set up it’s just a matter of hand washing all the laundry and hanging it on the clothes line to dry. Needless to say this process seems to take an inordinate amount of time not to mention a fair amount of hand strength.

Please don’t miss understand, we have excellent laundry facilities at our house here in Port au Prince. As I travel through Port au Prince and into the neighboring villages I have witnessed people doing their laundry where ever water seems to be available. Laundry in the tent camps is done in five gallon paint buckets. Laundry in the country side is done in a pond by the side of the road. On one occasion I saw a woman doing laundry after a rainy night in what I would have considered a “mud puddle”. Trees, bushes, and fences have been known to serve as clothes lines. Necessity is the Mother of invention …and nothing is simple in Haiti!

The amazing Sebastian!

One day last week at the clinic I met Sebastian, a most amazing eleven year old boy. Sebastian had come to the clinic to have his prosthesis adjusted. His prosthesis is fitted below his left knee as he was born with only one foot…and no hands.  While Alexis worked on Sebastian’s leg Sebastian was careening around the clinic, propelling a wheel chair by kicking with his foot. At some point he visited with Sister Isa and borrowed her camera. Yes, Sebastian is quite dexterous with his arms. He balanced the camera on one arm and used the end of his other arm to depress the button! When I attempted to take Sebastian’s picture he became enamored with my camera. So … Sebastian started taking pictures with my camera even though it is a bit heavier than Sister Isa’s camera. Sebastian had patients and staff alike posing for pictures, including myself. 

Eventually, Alexis returned Sebastian’s leg to him and needed to see how well Sebastian was able to walk after the adjustments had been made. As one would expect from an energetic eleven year old, Sebastian marched and sauntered but needed to be coaxed to “walk normal”! With all the clowning around it was apparent to Alexis and all of us that Sebastian was doing well with his prosthesis. When he went to leave Sebastian wished me, “Bonswa” and kissed me on both cheeks as is the custom here in Haiti.

Sebastian amazed me in so many ways. As I watched this young boy careening around the clinic, interacting with patients, staff and visitors I thought of the Salesian’s maxim “ Be who you are and be that perfectly well” !  Although he doesn’t have the benefit of ten toes and ten fingers Sebastian is certainly a most perfect eleven year old boy.

Typical Day?

Typically …we start the day with morning prayer at 5:50 am. Right after prayer it’s a short walk to Sacred Heart for mass. Mass usually starts around 6:15 and is in French, with some of the hymns sung in Creole. Then back to the house for a quick breakfast. If I’m going with Sister Isabel for the day we generally leave at 7:30 as the traffic seems to increase throughout the morning. That’s about where the predictability of the day ends …

When I’ve accompanied Sister Isabel to the amputee clinic I’ve shadowed the prostheses technicians. During my visits the technicians were watching people walk with their prostheses and making the necessary adjustments. The objective is not to get the leg perfectly straight, the objective is to align the prostheses so that the person can resume their natural way of walking. The number of adjustments that are necessary, especially when the person has an artificial knee, are amazing.

On a recent visit I met Manoosh. Manoosh had to endure two rounds of surgery before she was successfully fitted with a prostheses. When Sister Isabel broke the news to Manoosh that she would need additional surgery, she cried but then consented to the additional surgery. Now, six months later Manoosh was able to walk not only on the level sidewalk in the clinic courtyard but also on the gravel road that runs alongside the clinic. To truly walk in Haiti one must be able to trod the unstable surface of a gravel road. We all celebrated Manoosh, her perseverance, and her great accomplishment.

Welcome to Haiti!

Last Tuesday I arrived in Port au Prince safe and sound. Thanks to the hospitality of the Sisters of St. Joseph at St. Mary’s in Newark I was able to take a direct flight from Newark to Port au Prince. Although it was a relatively short four hour flight, Haiti is certainly a world away from Philadelphia.  I was greeted at the airport by the Sisters of Jesus and Mary with whom I will be living. Fortunately Sr. Vivian is well versed in the Port au Prince airport and Sr. Isabel is an expert at navigating the Toyota through the city. The area where we live is known as Barbiole. Below is a picture of our house. My room is on the second floor, front corner. I have two walls of windows which provided a nice breeze at night. I think we are due east of the Presidential palace. Our parish is Sacred Heart. The church was destroyed by the earth quake but the landmark crucifix still stands on the corner. Daily mass is celebrated under canopies on the site of the church. A cargo container serves as the sacristy. Mass at Sacred Heart is a very uplifting experience.

On my first full day in Haiti we went to an “open house” at the new community school in Merceron, a remote village about an hour away from Port au Prince.  The RJM are directly involved in building the school and training the staff. On Wednesday most of the village showed up to celebrate the new school and share some sandwiches and soft drinks. While in Merceron I also had the opportunity to visit a new  rice paddy and mill. Merceron is near lakes and the land is apparently ideal for growing rice. With a new school and a new mill there is much hope for Merceron.

Later in the week we visited “Atelier Saint Joseph”, the clinic for amputees where Sr. Isabel works. The clinic is near the Port au Prince seminary where the archbishop who lost his life in the earth quake is buried. The RJM were quick to point out to me all the statues of St. Joseph that can be found in the work shop where the prostheses are made. The day we were there a woman who lost her leg to diabetes was fitted with her new leg. A full length mirror was set up so that she could see herself as she walked between the bars. The smile on her face was universally understood, she was very happy to be standing and walking.

Although it has been less than a week since I arrived in Haiti the new experiences have been many and varied. Haiti obviously still suffers greatly from all the destruction caused by the earth quake. However the faith, perseverance, and strong spirit of the people is also tangible. Living in Haiti presents many challenges and many graces!