Bumps, Bruises, Bed Bugs, and Beyond

Today was very medically-focused. Several children and an old man came to the clinic with bad lacerations on their feet, some of them terribly infected. Future Doc Will Perez, with a little help, addressed these wounds, and then we walked a half-mile down the road to a village where a man complained that his newborn daughter was sick. The origin of the baby's discontent is still uncertain, but she is well below average size and weight for 3 months. We also met with a young boy who is the victim of Ring Worm; his head is covered with circles of pus, but he is seemingly unaware of the severity of his condition. It's so sad to see very sick people--especially young children--who are smiling and upbeat.
Will and I spent several hours this morning examining the houses and beds of the children for bed bug infestations. Bed bugs resemble small tics, and they can bite a host up to 500 times in one night; they look really gross. Worst of all, their bites can cause anemia, and they can carry diseases like Hepatitis B and Chagas, which causes kidney failure and anorexia. We concluded that virtually every bed in every house (with perhaps a few exceptions) has bed bugs--that's horrible. Tonight I wrote a project proposal to address the problem: destroy all existing beds, bomb the houses with insecticide, repair all holes and cracks in the walls, caulk all windows and corners, repaint the insides of the houses with oil-based (anti-insect) paint, and move in new beds and furniture. This plan has some overlap with Paige's "Houses to Homes" project, which has been the source of my and others' painting, and which already has plans in motion to make new beds and furniture. All projects must be formally proposed (with estimated costs, specific procedures, timeline, etc.) and approved by Father Marc and the Board of Theo's Work. I gave our project the title "Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite." Estimated immediate costs don't exceed $500, so I'm sure the project will be approved. The goal is to finish all this up, along with the plans of Houses to Homes, by the end of the summer before many of the children return for school.
On a more reflective note, I am starting to feel more like I belong here. Will and I were very productive today by working together. I love waking up to rooster crows in the morning, getting to work, and having my workout at the end of the day. On my runs around the soccer field, the kids stare as if they've never seen someone run "just to run" before. It's funny when the little ones try to run with me, but they collapse before long in exasperation. I always bring my iPod with me when I run, but the kids love it so much that they just end up huddling in a bunch passing the earphones around while I circle laps around them. Almost every time I take it back from them, I see Bob Marley on the Artist Search.
At night, I ask a lot of questions, and listen to the things that are running through the other volunteers' minds. I'm curious about the mindset of people who have been down here for long periods of time. Linda, for example, has been down here for 19 years, so I spend lots of time picking her brain. It seems that faith in God is often a key ingredient to sticking with it for the long run--otherwise, it's easy to get discouraged and feel hopeless. My personal opinion is that everyone is confronted with hopelessness down here from time to time, regardless of whether or not they believe in God...but maybe those feelings are less frequent and less consuming if one believes that "God will provide"...? God is such a vague word, I wonder how people who talk about him know that they have the same phenomenon in mind. Whether or not you are a spiritual person, being in a place like Haiti has an emotional effect, and it inspires constant reflection on your past, and urges you to re-evaluate your projected future.

Day 4

Last night I went into Les Cayes for dinner with Paige, Hannah, and several others. After dinner, we drove down the residential alleys and saw a large assembly of typical Haitian homes. Finally I was exposed to the reality of substandard living, and only now do I feel that I truly understand references to Haiti as a "poverty-stricken" nation. Wilson, a young Haitian man who works at Espwa, let us into his home to meet his mother (to whom he gives all his earnings) and many siblings. Their house was one room, roughly the size of a small office cubicle, with a small candlelit table in the middle. These people literally live meal to meal, and sleep on muddy, insect-ridden floors. I don't think I'll forget that room for a long time to come, nor will I forget the smell there.
I asked Paige, who has been part of Pwoje Espwa for over a year, whether she stays here because she feels like she is making a difference. She answered that, realistically, she hardly makes any difference at all, and that Haiti would be no different if she were to never have come. Instead, she said, she has stayed here because she has developed meaningful relationships. No individual, she asserts firmly, can make much of a difference, but if many people develop personal reasons for staying to help, together they can improve the lives of some. Even after only 4 days, I have a much greater appreciation for small accomplishments here, and I no longer feel as though the success of my stay is dependent on how much I "get done." Just being part of the effort, soaking up the environment, and communicating my experience to others is enough to make my time in Haiti worthwhile.
I have spent much of the last couple days painting the children's houses: turquoise on the inside, and orange on the outside. I also spent a couple hours today measuring and painting lines in the basketball court--now we can call fouls and shoot free throws! The kids seemed really impressed with the court.
I have also been helping Hannah set up her library. We had to sweep a few inches of water out of the room, but other than that, it really looks pretty good. A huge shipment of books just arrived last night from Europe, so we spent a good amount of time unloading them. Tomorrow, Hannah wants to start dividing them into French, Creole, and English sections.
It's incredibly hot down here, and I am continuously drenched in sweat. We eat bread with jam every meal and have no ice. The mosquitos suck. But somehow, the images and interactions of my day drown out these proximate discomforts. Seeing families bathe in puddles of mud and sewage, seeing old men pick through trash for pieces of food, watching the joy in young children's faces just from seeing the strange white guy slap orange paint on their shabby walls...all these images make mosquitos and heat seem like petty complaints. They also make the hours of my life seem much more fragile and precious--I find myself worrying that I'm not doing enough with all the time and resources that I have at my disposal.

Getting Started

This place is worlds apart from my life back in the States. There are roosters, cows, and goats walking around among the children and workers, and the grounds resemble a muddy swamp right now following a recent heavy rainfall. Children walk around barefoot in rags, covered in mud, often wearing the remnants of some old university shirt. One boy had a Carolina shirt on, and I considered asking if he was a fellow Heels fan, but decided I could probably answer that question for myself. Despite how comparably primitive life down here may seem, all the children have already made impressive efforts to learn my name and greet me warmly. I can tell that they have learned to appreciate the motives of Pwoje Espwa, and they express their gratitude genuinely and often.
The first thing I did upon arriving here was pump up the soccer ball and get a game going out on the field. They seemed to be having a great time, but also weren't shy about their desire to win at all costs. One boy slide-tackled my ankles in an attempt to steal the ball, knocking me off my feet. It's cool that these kids seem to feel lucky to be here--it leads them to involve themselves passionately in the activities that we provide for them. I'm sure they don't realize it, but to us it is admirable that they have such energy for interaction and learning--it would be much easier to mope around and pout.
I also put up a basketball net on the hoop today and got a game going. Today I attempted to teach them how to do a lay-up...we still have a ways to go, but they are better than when we started I suppose. Communication is not a breeze: Creole and French are quite different, and when I speak French to them, only several understand. I am forced to use a lot of gestures, and often ask boys like Jonas, who are older and speak French and Creole fluently, to help me out. Hopefully I will have time to organize basketball, soccer, and football games on a regular basis, and have an opportunity to more formally teach them specific rules and strategies. A game where score is kept and teams are even is much more effective in promoting competition and enthusiasm than a disorganized free-for-all.
I was also shown the medical clinic today, and will be spending a few hours there tomorrow helping out Dr. Jakob, the on-site Haitian physician. Who knows what he'll have me do. I am also planning to do a lot of painting of the insides of children's houses. Apprently the turquoise really brightens up the rooms, especially when you contrast it with the ugly, molded gray brick that's there now; it seems like a worthwhile project.