Jacmel and other happenings

Hello everyone! I am SO sorry that I haven't written in so long. My life has been busy with clinics, visitors, and the ever falling rain.  Here's what I've been up to!




1. Jacmel

Two weekends ago Zizou and I got the chance to travel to Jacmel, Haiti.  We, along with four friends, went by car through the hills, twists, and turns of the Haitian countryside. Upon arriving and after asking 10 different people directions, we headed to a hotel that I read good reviews about online. When we got there it was everything that I expected. The area was thick with trees, shrubs, and flowers. The rooms were tucked away behind all the lush greenery. The front desk welcomed you with wind chimes and mosaic tiles. The people were friendly. The drive seemed absolutely worth it. It even had a private beach. Unfortunately, and very unlike me, we failed to make a reservation and every single room was taken for the night. So, we got back into the car and head 15 minutes further south to an area recommended by the hotel staff. 

Fifteen minutes later we were positioned in the middle of town with our eyes open for a hotel. We found one that seemed to suit our needs and we sent Zizou in to get a room. In no time he returned with the unfortunate news that this hotel was also full for the night. My panic mode started to kick in. Would we have to turn around and go home? Assured that we would find a room we kept looking. After calling around we decided to drive the 15 minutes back to town and stay at hotel we saw on our way in. The hotel was named Hotel Florita and it was absolutely charming. We decided to get one big room with enough space for all of us. The room was quaint and winsome.  The walls were covered in brick patches and the windows were painted metal that opened to the outside. It had enough beds for almost all of us and a deck with 6 wicker rocking chairs overlooking the quiet street. It was the just the getaway I needed from the noise and hurry of the city. 

After settling in and knowing that the setting sun was upon us, we quickly changed into our bathing suits and headed for the pool. We swam until well after dark and called it quits only when our food was ready. The rest of the night was filled with talking, laughter, coca cola, and good stories. In different intervals we all nestled into bed ready to wake up early and dip our toes in the sand at the beach located about a block away. 

The next morning we ate breakfast and drove to the beach. The atmosphere was just right for spending time by the water. After drying off we hopped back into the car and drove 3 hours back to Port-au-Prince stopping only for fruit and drinks. We got home just in time to enjoy one last meal together before my friends had to go back to the states. It was definitely a trip worth writing about. What a sweet escape. Pictures below!

Our private patio

Jacmel beach

A couple of our visiting friends

2. Cooking with Derline

Almost a month ago I decided that I wanted to learn how to make Haitian food. Not only do I like eating Haitian food, but soon I will be adding a Haitian husband to the mix of my life. Learning is essential. Im not sure how I convinced sweet Derline, Zizou's sister in law, to accept the position as teacher, but she seemed willing and ready. The first week I came prepared to learn. I had washed hands and an open mind. I soon found out how spoiled I am in an American kitchen. The first thing we had to do was light our own fire over coals, outside. In fact, everything was done outside. So, while I was busy searching for lighter fluid she lit the fire with matches and wood. How very smart of her. 

 Next we hand washed the vegetables and rice in a series of dishes. Finally, we set the pan over the fire to get hot before adding our ingredients.  Two hours and several intricate instructions later, our meal was finished. I had learned how to make white rice and Haitian sauce with okra! Might I  also add that it was the best meal I have tasted since my arrival. Coincidence Im sure. The next week I was determined to take pictures, but I forgot. I was instructed on how to make Haitian milk juice. It sounds disgusting, but is quite refreshing. Finally, last week I kept my camera out and photographed our progress. Our cooking was a success. After three hours we made Haitian fried chicken, fried plantains, and picklese.  Below are pictures of my third cooking adventure.

Our fresh ingredients

Oh, just watching as she sets up campfire

Cutting the chicken and adding our spices

The chicken boiled and ready to fry

Our delicious picklese

Where my forearms were resting during my serious cooking lesson. Clearly it was intensive.

Our plantains cut and resting in salt water

The plantains first fry

Our contraption to press the fried plantains flat before their second fry

Our flattened plantains

Their second and final fry

Unfortunately, I didn't get time to take a picture of our finished products. Zizou and his brother ate a good portion before my camera could snap a shot. Hopefully there will be more good food to come and pictures of my experience!

3. The clinic I work at, that was started by a famous man, and that must not be named

I recently realized that I had been caught in a cycle of performing all the ultrasound exams and not training the doctors. After much nail biting, I put my foot down and went to the head of the hospital. I explained to her that my time here was being somewhat wasted if I didn't impart what I could on the people who would be working here for years to come. Much to my surprise, she agreed. We quickly came up with a plan. The plan consists of partial teaching and partial one on one training.  The challenge now was getting more than two people interested in learning this skill. Happily, I can report that after a brief introduction last week, I have 10 people signed up for my class! I am very excited at the prospect of teaching ultrasound. I realize that I have my work cut out for me, but I am willing to be patient and work hard with them. I will continue to blog my progress on this matter!

In Case

Just in case you were skeptical about whether or not Haitians read the shirts they buy....

This is what Zizou came over wearing the other day:

It reads "Grandmas are moms with LOTS OF practice!"

The Discovery

The last few weeks in Haiti haven’t been terribly eventful. Besides the storm that never came, excitement has been between zero and nothing. Right now it is seasonably hot, mosquito infested, and avocado season. I am beginning to have a set schedule and I am adjusting to my weekly routine. Despite that, every now and again there are bumps in the road. I would like to share a bump with you today.

A couple weeks ago Zizou informed me that a gecko had gotten itself stuck between an opening in my window and the wall.  I, not wanting to touch the gecko, asked Zizou to take it out. He quickly followed up with the hard reality that the gecko had probably been stuck for some time and it was now dead. “Oh”, I said, “Then we’ll figure out what to do with it later.” The next morning was an early clinic day. I left around 730 am and didn’t get home until dark. When we arrived back at my house Zizou instantly noticed a smell. “Its the gecko”, he said. “It can’t be the gecko Zizou, it didn’t smell like this last night!”, I retorted. He just shrugged his shoulders as I began checking every room for the source of the smell. As I got closer and closer to “the room” the smell became overpowering. In my mind I wondered how in one day it could decompose at a such a rapid rate. Hadn’t it been dead for awhile? Recalling that it had been an especially hot day, it began making sense. As we opened the door I swear my body folded in on itself from the smell. It was practically unbearable. While Zizou made a wire hook, I rummaged through my toiletries and found a bottle of coconut body spray. We were ready to get it out. 

The beginning of our mission consisted of me holding my nose and carelessly spraying coconut body mist around the room. Then, I went directly to the gecko and sprayed him too. Zizou followed with his hook in hand. While I held the flashlight and sprayed sporadically, I watched  Zizou try to reach in and push it out. After several different attempts to get the gecko from inside and outside the house, we decided that a new plan was necessary. We figured out that we needed to pierce it with the hook and then pull it out. About 5 minutes later we had success and the dead gecko was free. After flinging its body over my back wall we sprayed the room 15 more times and called it a night. The smell lingered for about another day,  but all things considered it was pretty smooth bump in the road for us. Who wants to stay at my house?!

In very recent news:  The container has finally been released! Tomorrow an inspector will come and we will work to empty it out completely. I am extremely excited to move my things into my house and fill it up!  Thinking back, I can remember the big items we placed on it, but the contents of the rubbermaid containers remain a mystery! I will post  pictures of my full house once I get all situated! 

Some New Things

I will begin by apologizing because I haven't written in quite awhile......sorry. I have had quite a few new things in the mix and wanted to share it all!

Last Tuesday I was bitten by a bee. I was upset and it hurt.

I have begun going to a new hospital in Bourdon, Haiti. This hospital has two BEAUTIFUL ultrasound machines that I will learn and then train the physicians on. They see around 2000 patients and deliver 10-20 babies each week! They have an incredible reputation within the community. In fact, it is so good that last week Zizou and I witnessed a woman's loyalty to them. We were sitting outside the hospital when a beaten up Honda Accord pulled up the driveway. When I looked inside I could see a woman holding her pregnant belly and hunching over. "Yay", I thought, "a baby will be born today!" A man hopped out of the drivers seat and called for help. He began yelling across the car to a nearby nurse that his wife was in labor and she refused to go anywhere else except this hospital. In one fluid motion he opened the back door (did I mention I was sitting perfectly eye level with the back seat?) and a young girl fled the car leaving only the pregnant woman. My eyes traveled up the car and I could see there was blood and fluid covering the floor and bits of the seat. Then, as I looked up at the woman, I noticed she was squatting above the seat.  Perfectly perched underneath her was a newborn baby. She didn't make it in time. The baby's manger was a Honda with cloth interior.  I sat there unmoving and speechless. I watched as the doctor ran out, cut the cord, wrapped the baby, and carried the woman inside. I began to look around and met Zizou's eyes. "Did that just happen?", I said. "Yeah", he replied. "You're going to put that in your blog, aren't you?" Friends, of course I was going to put this in my blog! Im very excited to begin working there and meet these daily happenings!

On Thursday of this week I scanned a woman with triplets. At first, I only saw two and told her that she had twins. Her eyes grew large and she put her hand over her chest. Then, as I kept scanning, I noticed a third. I looked at her and held up three fingers.  Her next response was laughter.  All the women in the clinic began gathering around her, touching her legs and arms. They were awed by her blessing. It was quite beautiful to see their response. She left beaming and so did I.  Did I mention they were all boys?

About two weeks ago I got to visit with my beautiful friend Ruth. Zizou and I made a trip to see her and her team in Gressier, Haiti. While there, we attended a 10 couple wedding that the team had been planning for months ahead of time. They brought donated dresses, tuxedos, make-up, perfumes, gift bags, bouquets, shoes, veils, and the list goes on and on. We all helped the brides and grooms get ready for their big day and then went to the ceremony. It was evident that the couples were overjoyed to get married and blessed that a way was provided for them! We had such a great time!

Getting the couples ready for the ceremony

The bridesmaids dancing into the ceremony

My Ruth and I!

Lastly, I am happy to report that after 11 days of harsh antibiotics my stomach bug is gone! Now is the time that I should stop drinking regular coca cola for calories and really watch what I eat and drink. I will have Zizou remind me tomorrow.

Just in case

In case you were wondering how I was doing driving my car, you can ask this man below.

He is fixing the clutch that I broke off....completely. 

Ronald

Zizou doesn’t know a stranger. He makes a new friend every place we go. In my mind I have averaged him knowing at least 2 new people a day. That’s a staggering 14 new people in one week...and he remembers all of their names! I have felt very blessed by this character trait of his. One reason why is our friend Ronald.

Zizou met Ronald one night when he was in need of transportation by motorcycle. Coincidentally, Zizou is one of the many voices that will be quick to lecture you on the dangers of a riding a taxi moto. “Seven people die a day on motorcycle”, he tells me. So, being in desperate need, he approached Ronald. After questioning Ronald about his safety practices, Zizou was reassured that Ronald had a safety first attitude. He also learned that Ronald had previously done motorcycle shows in the Dominican Republic. Zizou was sold and later told me that he was sure Ronald was one of the best taxi moto drivers in Haiti. Ronald and Zizou exchanged phone numbers for future moto needs. 

A few Fridays ago we had moto needs. I needed to get to my clinic in Sarthe and the Toyota was “sick”.  So, Zizou called Ronald. I had not yet seen the force on two wheels that was Ronald, but after that Friday I too was convinced of his talent. Have you ever wished that you had a camera because words could not explain what your eyes witnessed?  Yes? Then bear with me as I try and explain we looked like on this motorcycle. Starting at the front end of the motorcycle: front wheel, steering column, ultrasound machine in suitcase, Ronald, me, Zizou, back wheel, fumes. 

Sidenote: Im not sure the Haitians even noticed the cramming of people/objects on the motorcycle. Instead, they were mesmerized at the white girl on the taxi moto.

If Zizou wasn’t completely for Ronald before, then this job sealed the deal. Ronald was now our official moto man. I, being a big advocate FOR taxi moto, now had a reliable man on the job. He took us to the grocery store, the cyber cafe, and even to look at cars. Ronald and I exchanged smiles while Zizou and he exchanged words. Unfortunately, now that I have a car, we don’t need his services as often. 

However, last week we had moto needs again. My car needed to go and get looked at in a garage far from my house and we needed a ride home. Zizou called Ronald and he was at our service in the blink of my eye. We had to wait inside the garage for about 50 minutes and Ronald waited outside without a single complaint. On our drive home I began questioning Zizou about what I should pay Ronald. I explained how I only had one bill and it was 100 Haitian dollars (roughly 12.50 american). He, like always, told me that Ronald didn’t care what we paid him. When we arrived at my house I gave him the bill and Zizou asked him for change. He said he didn’t have any and tried to give our money back. Remembering all the times he took Zizou places for free, I told him to keep it all. 

The next day I began talking to Zizou about Ronald. I wondered aloud if he had a wife or babies. Zizou told me that he had a wife and four children at home. I was shocked. “You mean to tell me that he has 4 children and he tried to give our money back yesterday”, I said. Zizou began to tell me how Ronald was a good man and just wanted to help us. He conjured up my memory about a night two weeks ago when he called Ronald to take us to the cyber cafe. I remembered that night clearly. I felt like we were committing an injustice on Ronald because we spent so long at the cyber cafe. Even when I was finished Zizou worked on the computer for another two hours. I was angry that we made Ronald wait. When we finally arrived at home I gave him $20 American dollars for all of his time we took. “When I called him to take us he was at home and was happy to take us there”, Zizou said. He went on to say that “Ronald told me how much you gave him that night. He had so much joy because he didn’t have any food in the house or money to buy it.”

It was then that I had not only high respect for Ronald’s driving, but his character. This man was willing to give us back our money because he didn’t have change when his needs were far greater than mine or Zizou’s. I feel blessed by knowing him. I hope that I can learn from him about being kind and giving to others. 

The Value of a Child

Meet Sheloh

He loves to sing and dance

and sit with you

and be silly

Shelo is a little boy I met at the We Advance clinic. His smile is infectious. He knows how to say exactly three words in english: I love you. With those three words he likes to sing a song, "I love you, I love you, I love you." I don't know where he lives or why he was all the way at the clinic by himself, but everyone(including me) loves to see him. He helps around the clinic and gives really good kisses. It is no wonder that Jesus liked to surround Himself with little children. 

Also....I finally got all the paperwork finished on my car! Here you can see my new license plate!

(The BB is coincidental)  

A couple of weeks ago Zizou and I got the chance to travel to the mountains with a visiting group. We stopped at an overlook where you could see the entire city of Port-au-Prince. It reminded me of how small I really am. Here are some pictures of our time there! 

Im probably saying, "Hurry up Zizou, you know I hate getting my picture taken"

Zizou in his ALMH t-shirt

Port-au-Prince

Dying to Self

While in church on Sunday morning I came across a paper in my Bible that a good friend gave me many years ago. The title of the paper read  “Dying to self!” and is about a half a page long. On it were 7 examples of how you can know if you are dying to self. Now, I admit that this idea is not usually in the forefront of my mind. I also admit that I was browsing through the contents of my Bible instead of listening. Nevertheless, I do think that it is no mistake I came across it.  

As I was reading the words I realized how incredibly selfish I have been. In my heart I have been so demanding of God. Somehow, I have been rationalizing my poor behavior on issues such as heat, time, and change.  And because the truth hurts, the words on the paper felt like I was being completely exposed. Yet, with this gentle reminder from God I still wanted to fight against it. I wanted to find one way on the list that I have succeeded in dying to self.(funny, right?)  To my dismay, I couldn’t find one. It was then that I knew in my heart I was not yet dead. 

I am reminded in this very moment of the grace that is upon me. I consider it a blessing when the Lord stirs my heart. I don’t want to remain the same Beth. I want God to raise my affections towards Him. Although painful, like any change, these moments are good for me. 

Here is the list of dying to self....painful, but good. (Thank you Krista!)

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DYING TO SELF!

When you are forgotten, neglected, and purposely set at naught and you don’t sting or hurt with the insults or oversights, but your heart is happy being counted worthy to suffer for Christ, that is dying to self. 

When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your advice is disregarded, your opinions ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart or even defend yourself, but take it all in patient loving silence, that is dying to self. 

When you lovingly and patiently bear all disorder and irregularity and impunctuality and annoyance, when you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensitivity and endure it as Jesus endured it, that is dying to self. 

When you are content with any food, offering, raiment, climate, society, solitude, and interruptions by the will of God, that is dying to self. 

When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation or to record your own good works, or if after any commendation, you can truly love to be unknown, that is dying to self. 

When you can see your brother prosper, and have his needs met and can honestly rejoice with him in spirit and feel no envy nor question God while your own needs are far greater and in desperate circumstances, that is dying to self. 

When you can receive correction and reproof from one of less stature than yourself and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly finding no rebellion or resentment lighting up within your heart, that is dying to self.

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In other news:

A little late, but a picture of my dear friend Terri who came to visit me in June!

On Friday while in clinic I felt an “aftershock”. I am not completely sure how long after the initial earthquake you can call movement an aftershock, but I felt it. It was crazy for me. I described it to Zizou as someone standing behind me pushing my chair forward. I told him that when I turned around no one was there and that’s when I noticed the desk drawers were rattling too. Then, nothing. I began to tell him that no one in the clinic seemed too alarmed and they kept on with their business. “Its crazy to me how normal it is for people here”, I said. He looked at me quizzically. He began to tell me that it will never be normal for people here. How they must not have felt it or they would’ve scared me with their panic and running. My only response was, “Oh”, but on the inside I was still weirdly excited at what I had felt. Now you must understand I realize that many people have felt these kind of things before, but I haven’t. This was the first time for me. Compared to the earthquake of 2010 this was nothing, but I sat in wonderment at how it could physically move my body. Whoa.

I finally got a car! I am now the owner of a Suzuki Sidekick. It is such a process to find a good car in Haiti. I had two trustworthy men on the job and they delivered. Having this car will completely change what I can do in Haiti. I no longer have to wait for a shared car and hope that I can make it to the clinic before it closes. No! I can go on time! Another plus is that I can drive in Haiti. My Illinois license works here too. The only negative is that its stick shift. Admittedly, I was taught how to drive this type of car, but never put much effort into mastering it. Now, on the pothole filled roads of Haiti, I will give it another go. Im sure I will bring much comedy into the the lives of onlookers. “Look at the white girl trying to drive, does she know that if you keep killing it you won’t get anywhere?!” Pray that I get my license plates fast so that I can hit the road!

Someday in the future when the doctor announces that I have skin cancer, I won’t be surprised. I recently went swimming with Zizou and his friends. Because I didn’t want to sheepishly lather on sunscreen in the corner of the pool, I put in on at home. I couldn’t reach my back and made a mental note to have someone help me. Well, I forgot. When we arrived at the pool I quickly jumped in to enjoy the cold water. I swam for the better part of two hours when I started noticing that my face was hurting. It was then that I realized my epic fail. I quickly asked Zizou if my face and back were red and after a thorough inspection he told me no. I began thinking that maybe I was alright. I was practically in the water with my back covered for most of the time and I put sunscreen on my face. So, we stayed for another hour. When I got home and looked in the mirror I realized that I should always trust my instincts. The mirror revealed a stark contrast between the skin under my bathing suit straps and the skin that was exposed to Haiti’s sun. I was about to be miserable. Over the night my skin created a nice set of blisters on my nose and shoulders. I was also given a fresh set of snake skin on my back. I am the luckiest. In a few days I will shed this skin cocoon and become a bronze butterfly, but for now I remain a pained caterpillar that can never learn her lesson on sunscreen. 

Some thoughts

As of today I have officially been in Haiti one month. In one month’s time I feel that I have learned so much about this country. In one month’s time I have been able to appreciate my own country and realize how easy we have it there. In one month’s time I  have learned very little new creole (shame). 

Haiti has made me see the world so very differently. I hope I never go back to the way I thought of things before. I’d like to think that Haiti has somehow added to my character. I’d like to share some of my observations and thoughts about what I have seen in my month’s time. These are all true and the names have not been changed.

*Any Haitian business employing a guard that carries a gun the length of my leg is sure to have air conditioning. Find something in the store to browse at.


*Dessert is a luxury reserved for the wealthy in Haiti.

*Never trust a man because he is wearing a Christian t-shirt. Words on shirts mean nothing in Haiti. When buying t-shirts Haitians don’t read the words, they just pick a shirt. Here are some good examples: An elderly woman wearing a shirt reading, “If my music is too loud, then you’re too old” and a 9 year old wearing a shirt that says  “Ladies Man”. 

*Don't scratch mosquito bites, rub them. Im not exactly sure of the science or thinking behind this yet. I do know that it doesn’t feel as good.

*Haitian prison is a place that you don’t want to go. Your toilet is the floor you sleep on, the insects and rats eat at your skin, you share a single room with an average of 20 men, and most people wither away to skin and bones. After hearing the prison system described to me late one night I began thinking many things. First, is Danny Pye. He was an American missionary imprisoned in Haiti for no good reason. He endured these things. I can only imagine the beautiful way the gospel was shared by him during those times. I can’t imagine what the gospel means to him now and how differently he reads Paul’s letters. Secondly, is our prison system in the states. I was told that if Haitians are imprisoned in the states then they have “made it”. How can it be that a person would rather be in our prisons than be free in their own county? I guess it only makes sense that they would see it as better; three meals a day, an education, free time, cable, a bed, and electricity. Many(not all) are terrified to go back to prison here, thus their cycle of crime is ended. Lets send our prisoners down here. We may be able to make some tax cuts. 

*When you go to a hospital in Haiti you are provided a bed. Your family is responsible for bringing everything else. This includes: all linens, toiletries, and food. You don’t get temperature controlled rooms or a nurse call button and Im quite positive that the hospital doesn’t send out patient surveys after you leave. You share a room with an average of 8 other people. Now, Im not saying that this is the right way to run a hospital. It just has me thinking about how much we expect in the states. That it is our right to have everything we want and if we don’t get exactly that then someone is going to hear about it. We must always appease the patient and make sure they have the best experience possible. For Heaven’s sake don’t make someone wait! Our American time is precious and 10 extra minutes of it cannot be wasted waiting for my child to get a chest xray. Do you know that I saw women with toddlers, infants, and sometimes both waiting in line at our clinic for over 2 hours....to get weighed? Then they would get in another line to wait and see the doctor. Then another line to get prescriptions. They never complained.  Quiet America, quiet me.  I am no better. I too believe that I should be given good care because I am paying for it.  However, I think for some people its never enough. For those people, I wish a stint in the Port-au-Prince hospital....there’s a bed open next to me.

*Haitians are generous. For being the poorest county in the western hemisphere, they  have shown me more generosity than I could tell of. When you go to their houses, they give you the best of everything they have. If your car breaks down in traffic, they will get out of their cars to help you. If you need your clothes washed, they will do their very best and then refuse to take money from you. If you are thirsty, they will take their own money to buy you a drink. They see to it that not one of their brothers goes hungry if possible. They will give you whatever you need so that you are taken care of. They are teaching me how to be a better servant each day. 

I hope this can give you a bit of insight into Haiti. Its only from my eyes, but it felt worth sharing. I wish that everyone could go and experience need somewhere in the world at least once in their life. It doesn’t even have to be another country, do it in your own town! Im not into making promises I can’t keep, but this time I will:  I promise if you go, it will change you forever. 

And the beat goes on

Hello everyone! Sorry that it has taken me so long to blog, but its been rainy and the internet hasn’t been working well. This past week I had my friend Terri here AND a group from Wisconsin! I have felt so blessed to share in ministry with them and to spend time with them. I was definitely sad to see them all go, but we were so busy and so many things happened during their time here. I feel like I have a thousand things to say, so bear with me.

Terri arrived on Sunday and (I think) quickly adjusted to the Haitian weather. Somehow, Zizou and I arrived at the airport a bit early and waited amongst the group of people picking up loved ones and clients. I was so happy to see her face in the crowd. Im sure she noticed me right away......because I had a sunburn on the right side of my body (this is a true story...only burnt on my right side). Why else would I have stood out? We made it back to the car with her things and were on our way to my house. After a quick stop there we went to the orphanage where Terri had her first Haitian meal.....rice, beans, and chicken.  After dragging her around Port-au-Prince awhile longer we went back to my place. It was there that she surprised me with gifts from home! My dear friends at work had sent me love from across the sea. These were the things waiting for me: food(lots), books, toiletries(loofah!), and cards with the most lovely words. I don’t know if they could ever understand what that meant to me. It gave me so much joy. Thank you all SO much. 

Terri and I joined the group that flew in on Monday.  The group came to do a medical clinic and we were ready to work with them! The plan was to leave Tuesday morning for Thomazeau, a town outside of Port-au-Prince, and work there until Friday.  The only problem was the rain. Monday night brought a downpour of rain and there is no constructed road to Thomazeau. Instead, travelers drive on a dirt road. The road is sometimes flat, but mostly contains many pits and grooves. Thomazeau is about 30 miles away from Port-au-Prince. This time it took us 4 hours to get there. Have you ever seen a school bus drive through a bed of mud that is up to your knees? No? Well, neither have I. We were stuck several times. The only way we managed to get through the mud was by the help of the villagers. (Who, promptly asked for cash once we arrived to our destination) The good news was that we arrived! We set up our beds after destroying about 50 wasp nests and tucked in for the night.

The next morning we arose early and set up the clinic. After the doctors arrived we began seeing patients. My job was doing lab tests. I also took my ultrasound machine along. My first ultrasound in Thomazeau was on an infant. She had a growth on the right side of her neck that stretched up to her right cheek. The growth also began to invade her mouth and push her tongue to the side. It looked like a classic congenital defect that you learn about in school. Terri and I both agreed that she appeared to have a cystic hygroma. The doctor wanted me to take a look by ultrasound to see its consistency. If it was liquid, he would drain it. If it was solid, he would send her to a doctor in PAP. Either way, she needed care. She looked miserable and you could hear the mass cutting off her air supply. After looking by ultrasound we came to the consensus that there was some fluid in the mass. Dr. Felix drained over 30 cc of dark red fluid from it and sent the family to the hospital with money from the group. That night the grandfather stopped by the clinic to tell us that the hospital had turned them away. We told them to come back to the hospital the next morning to talk with the doctor again. The next morning when they arrived we figured out that they went to the private hospital only for the rich and that is why they were turned away. We encouraged them to go back. We didn’t see them again and we can only hope that they received care. If not, the baby will not survive. 

On Thursday morning a man carried a screaming woman into the clinic. She was complaining of cramping and vaginal bleeding. She had not had a period in 2 months. Upon ultrasound examination I saw only what I can describe as a ball of tissue exiting her uterus. I could not see a gestational sac. Wide eyed and shoulders shrugged I made the call of inevitable abortion or miscarriage. The doctor seemed to agree and wanted to check her cervix. While three of us held her down, Dr. Felix checked her and helped her to pass the “ball of tissue” that would’ve been a beautiful Haitian baby. In the best creole I could muster I told her over and over that I was sorry while Terri lovingly rubbed her arms. She was silent. 

Later that night after clinic was closed down and people were preparing for bed, Terri and I sat in the back of the hospital chatting about the day and preparing to pray together. Three motorcycles full of people pulled up to the door and began scurrying around a pregnant woman. They were telling us that the woman was about to have her baby and that they needed help. I tried to explain to them that we had no doctor and that none of us had ever delivered a baby before. They offered up a woman who they said was midwife. At that point I was growing more and more confused. Was something really wrong with her? Why did they bring her here if they had a midwife? How did they KNOW she about to have the baby? They said that her water had not broken, but the baby was coming and she could not leave how she was. So, I went and woke up Cyndy, our VERY experienced nurse. She had not worked in OB for years, but she agreed to check the girl. We put her in stirrups and gave Cyndy the flashlight-she was crowning and THE BABY WAS COMING! We quickly went and gathered the hodge podge of supplies we had not packed and returned to broken water. The midwife started talking sternly to the girl and slapping her thighs. She was awesome. I positioned myself at the end of the bed with Cyndy at my side waiting with clean towels and water. After only three screams the head was out. The midwife helped pull the baby out the rest of the way. It was a beautiful baby boy. After the mother passed the placenta they cut the cord. The midwife then put some of the cord blood in the baby’s mouth and tied the cord with pieces of the mothers scarf. I was in awe. It was hands down the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I can’t describe the beauty. The entire ordeal only lasted one hour. After cleaning up the mother and wrapping the baby they all hopped on a motorcycle and drove home. (Yes, even the mother)

After Terri and I stopped staring at each other with a look of “did that just happen?”, she made an interesting point. She said how ironic it was that we saw a miscarriage and a birth all on the same day. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. No amount of births could ever take away that mother’s grief for her child, that baby can never be replaced. That is hers. But, there is life. The joy in seeing that baby take it’s first breath took the edge off of some of the pain from earlier. I know there will always be pain in loss, but it was a stunning picture of God’s goodness and how He is the redeemer. We left the next morning with an estimate 230 patients in two clinic days. 

Terri left on Saturday and the group left this morning. It was so great to have them, but now I need to begin a schedule and remain busy. Im sorry if I scared some of you with my last post. It has been a hard transition, but I trust that the Lord has laid amazing things in front of me. I must fix my eyes firmly on Him, my prize. I have to stop looking back and keep looking ahead. God will use this year in my life. So, pray for me friends. Remember always that I am sweating and that my arms are getting tanner. 

My first week.

I think I may have set a record. It only took 2 days for me to come completely undone. I don’t know what has gotten into me. I have cried straight through my first week. You may be thinking, but Beth, didn’t you think it was going to be difficult?” To answer your question curious blog follower, yes I did. I thought it was going to be difficult, but not THIS difficult. I usually can appreciate the quirks of Haiti’s inconsistent electricity and power. This is mainly because I stay at places that overcome it with the beautiful invention of the generator. However, at my place of residence I don’t have such a luxury. I have surprised myself. I am homesick already. I miss jumping in my car and getting everything I need. I miss electricity. I miss my friends and my family.  I miss my beloved diet coke. But, in this very moment that I type this message I am reminded of God's peace. That He will not forsake me. Ahh, I feel better. I hope to write soon, but internet is not too consistent here. Bye for now. Remember, Im sweating. 

Preparing To Ale

Over the past few months I have been actively preparing to leave for Haiti.  However, reality is just now beginning to settle in.  I am actually leaving. I am no longer just talking, Im doing. Weird.

Now that this new found reality has hit me, I am all the sudden woefully unprepared. I just recently considered the need for bed netting, bug spray, and a large bottle of malaria medicine. For heaps of baby wipes and Advil.  For batteries, snacks, and cutips. And, of course, the less needed rain boots for Haiti's rainy season. So much to remember, so much to consider! The anxiety of it all has begun to creep into my skin. To infect my every thought.

In fact, my thoughts have been consuming more time than actual packing has. I think of what I will get to do and experience in Haiti. How God will use the gifts He has given me. I think of meeting new people, hearing new stories, seeing the marvelousness of God in new life.  All of these great things I will gain makes think of what I will be leaving behind.

Truthfully, I am most wrapped up in this topic.

I mourn the loss of growing girls. I will miss movie nights, intimate conversations with friends, watching people grow and change. I know I will miss time in important people's lives that I cannot gain back. I will even miss fountain soda. But, there is a higher calling. There are people who do not know their worth in Christ. The gospel must go forth. We are called to love and to serve. God is calling me to do just that.

Despite all of this, I have realized that I have been neglecting the thing most important to prepare. I have been so wrapped up in physically getting ready that I have forgotten about my heart. I haven't prepared my heart for the magnificent way in which God will shine His glory. I have (quite quickly) abandoned the item that will fasten me to God and break for others. I have neglected to survey it's contents and pray for softening and filling. I have neglected the very thing that God had laid this very journey on. By neglecting my heart, I have neglected much more.

Thankfully, I am not on my own. He can change and prepare my heart in ways that I cannot presently fathom....and He will. In God's time and power my heart will be right where He knew it would be. And I am right where He wants me right now. (Whew!) Here I am understanding His timing and my need for His unchangeable grace, seeing His daily mercies, and doing lots of packing.