After a last minute scramble for a plane ticket and a junk show of logistics, I made it to Haiti. After two hours of crazy Haitian driving and some nerve racking games of chicken in the car, I made it to Verrettes….a small rural town north of Port-au-Prince. Our group was hosted by a man named Tifa, who is best described as Verrettes’ local Godfather, and who owns a villa with toilets, some electricity, and some running water (commodities not commonly found elsewhere in town). The ladies of the house cooked all our meals and purified water was brought in for our use….we were living good. It was an easy 15 minute walk to the clinic or a 5 minute drive down rocky, dust filled streets with all the little Haitian children yelling, “Blan, Blan,” which means white or foreigner in Creole.
On that note, my French was rendered almost useless in this area, as the majority of this community spoke only Creole. It’s apparently a good sign of one’s education if they speak French and many in this area had little to no education. I was however able to practice some French with those around the Villa who worked for MSM or Tifa. It was an experience to say the least. I’ve seen poverty in developing countries, but this was definitely up there as the worst I’ve seen as a whole. Haiti’s infrastructure is nonexistent and has light years to go before improvement will be visible in this country. Simple necessities like latrines are a foreign concept to many and those in the mountains have to walk miles to find portable water, or at least water sans cholera. I was certainly amazed at the lack of infrastructure or improvement….Port-au-Prince demonstrated virtually zero rebuilding or improved organization since the earthquake…just tent cities and masses on top of rubble and each other. It’s a frustrating and disheartening situation to say the least. One can imagine the efficiency and workings of Verrettes’ clinic and health care system, but I found it largely rewarding regardless and enjoyed the people tremendously while nursing. One thing that can be said of the Haitians is that they are full of smiles and were a kind, happy people regardless of many difficult conditions.
Local school children in the hills outside of Verrettes. We went of to the mountains one day to assess some water filters given to the school and houses. The school had yet to use them and appeared to not know how, not to mention the students had nothing to drink it with anyway. We were told they just went down and drank out of the nearby river. It always impressed me how well kept, groomed, and dressed children were when they went to school…they put a lot of pride into attending school. I saw this self care no where else but in the schools.
The entrance to our villa…we had a gate that was kept closed and watched 24/7.
Locals from Verrettes farming rice on Tifa’s farm.
Haitian bananas…they were everywhere alongside mango trees. The mangos were delicious!
Dr. Forgey, MSM’s advising doctor and founder, and Jenn. Jenn was the one other nurse on the trip, and I adored her instantly…definitely an instant friend.
Haitian’s working Tifa’s farm…just across the river from the Villa.
Tent city next to the airport in Port-au-Prince.
Georgia medical students and Jenn…on our way to the mountains. It was a bumpy and dusty ride.
Cute little girl in Verrettes.
The Voodoo temple in Verrettes. Apparently Voodoo is still prominent, but works alongside the mainstream churches these days. It seems the people incorporate both. There’s much I still don’t understand about Voodoo, but it was an interesting introduction at the temple.
More of the school children…pretty cute.
The school was a large square, concrete structure that housed six different classes in one big room…the students were dispersed in pods, each with their own teacher.
A religious ceremony that we came across in the mountains. We were hiking the hills, still assessing water filters, and we heard drums and celebratory music. When we came up the hill we found this…apparently a catholic ceremony, but it may have had some Voodoo nuances. They were dancing and singing up a storm…very entertaining. Luckily the group was very welcoming…blessing us with showers of baby powder and deodorant spray…apparently we were cleansed after that? Some use holy water, others use deodorant…
The clinic in Verrettes. The stretcher with the woman is considered the emergency room bed. The rest wait in halls for a chance to see a doctor.
The clinic with patients waiting.
The clinic entrance.
Vanessa and John, Georgia medical students, clean out a bacterial infections on a small boy’s head. I spent most my time in the petite surgery room, doing a lot of wound care, cleaning out abscesses, stitches, etc. I loved it! The only downside was the lack of supplies and constant search for the most basic of items….arg.
The clinic’s front waiting area.
The clinic’s obstetrics room….this is where the baby’s are born. I thought it was the torture chamber on first glance.
A little stow away….this cute little Haitian boy jumped on the back of our truck when driving back from the clinic one day. He got a fun ride, but had a descent walk home.
Me and Jenn…hiking the mountains and assessing the water filters. It was hot! Good thing we had our water bottles with our sophisticated filters of our own. I have a whole new appreciation for how far these poor Haitians have to walk in the heat for some of life’s basics…like clean water.
Jenn was blessed by one of the spirit-filled practitioners at the religious celebration we came upon in the mountains…that was after baby powder and deodorant. I was one of the lucky one’s blessed as well…at least I think it was a blessing that I received.
A runaway chicken in the clinic.
Demika, our fearless leader talking with Louiness, our faithful translator. I don’t know what I would have done without Louiness to translate the Creole for me…it sounded like French, but it definitely wasn’t French.
Joe, Georgia med student, walking through the entrance.
Me standing outside the clinic one morning…a horrible close up but one of the only photos of me at the clinic. I had to prove that I was actually there too.
The front of the clinic in Verrettes, Haiti.
A main spot in town where the locals would clean or wash on the river…hence why cholera became so rampant and why it probably will again when the rainy season hits.
School children in Verrettes, walking home from school and following our group…the whities are very intriguing to them…”Blan, blan!”
The Georgia medical students left early…they were definitely missed. They left to spend a couple days in Port-au-Prince before flying home. From left to right: Tifa, Vanessa, Laura, Peter, Rachel, Joey, Me, John, Erin ( MSM’s MPH intern and an awesome friend now….poor thing is stuck there on her own for another month and she’s already been there for three…I’ve never seen anyone so excited when we bought her pizza), and Demika (Cuban trained doctor, saving money to take her boards back in the states and start her residency…definitely our fearless leader).
Demika and Joe changing the dressing to a machete wound…poor guy got hacked when some robbers broke into his house.
Another tent city on the outskirts of Port-au-Prince.
Saturday is market day in Haiti….one of many on my drive to Port-au-Prince.
Some of the rubble in Port-au-Prince.
The Presidential Palace in Port-au-Prince…totally collapsed and destroyed. I was told there are still bodies buried under the rubble. With that said, it was the only place I saw a few construction workers trying to do something.
This was the first Catholic Church of Port-au-Prince…probably 18th century, but I’m not sure. Either way, it was a beautiful and very large church. It completely collapsed, killing many people.
Louiness…our translator and a talented artist.
Me in my upgraded room. For most of the week I stayed in an open, dorm-like room with a mosquito net bed, but after the medical students left, I was upgraded to the other house. I thought I won the lotto with my own bed, own, toilet and shower, and AC….little did I know the generator wouldn’t be working that night and it was like being shoved into a little hot box to cook instead…it was miserable. When the generator did turn back on at 4:30 in the morning, it had to be right on the other side of the wall, next to my ear, and my AC still didn’t work….I was begging for my old room back.
Haitian nurses at the large general hospital in Port-au-Prince…my driver/translator Story was giving me the tour of Port-au-Prince.
The last ones standing by departure day. From left to right: Louiness, Demika, Story, Dr. Shakel, Erin, and me.
Roadside market on drive back to Port-au-Prince.
Back seat, window view…driving to the airport.
