Everyone said that coming to Haiti would change my life, and it has. But yesterday was definitely a tipping point for me. Until yesterday I have just seen the kids as kids. Children who are HIV positive, and yes they're orphans, But they seemed...Just kids to me. I loved them, but I don't think I was taking in the full extent of this virus.
Meeting my first AIDS patient hit me. It was all finally so real for me in a way that it hadn't been before. A fifteen year old girl suffering from a syndrome that no one should ever have to face. And how lucky am I? Healthy and privileged, and with the ability to make the choice to be here. I'm here, and I want to help, and I can. But first I need to understand.
I know that I will never understand what it like to grow up in an orphanage, to spend three months in a hospital being treated for AIDS when I am only fifteen.
I wonder if when she came home from the orphanage, did she feel like she was coming home? Or did she want to be somewhere else?
So many questions that she won't be able to answer because she's too tired to talk.
And yet she found the strength to share her beautiful smile with me.
And though I know she is hurting, and I know that I can' understand, and that we are so different, just sitting with her in the shade in the courtyard felt peaceful.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
HIV vs AIDS. And Michele.
I met Michele today. I'll tell you about that later.
But first...
HIV vs AIDS. You should know the difference.
HIV is a virus, and AIDS is a condition. HIV stands for Human Immunodeficiency Virus. AIDS is Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.
HIV compromises your immune system and makes it very difficult to fight off disease.
AIDS is the final stage of the HIV infection.
It is not guaranteed that is you have HIV you will contract AIDS. Once a person has AIDS, if they do not take their medication they will likely live only about three years. If they do take medication it is possible to have a nearly normal lifespan.
There you go, I hope that helps.
So this morning I was sitting in the courtyard at CHOAIDS when I saw someone walking out of the house. I'd never seen her before, and I knew this immediately because she is one of the thinnest people I have ever met. This is Michele. She has AIDS. She is fifteen.
Nancy, a woman who works at CHOIADS, was helping her walk down the steps into the courtyard. She was having a hard time balancing and kept bracing herself on the wall. Nancy sat her down in a chair near me (we have four chairs now) and I didn't know whether to stare, or avert my eyes. Both seemed equally conspicuous. So I smiled at her and said "Bon Jour." She murmured something in reply.
So we sat there, sneaking glances at each other for about ten minutes. Then she started to try to stand up. I paused, and then rushed over to her and asked if I could help. Of course she didn't know what I said, but she reached out and grasped my hand. I helped her to another chair that was more in the shade. Careful step after careful step, inching our way along. She sat down, and I pulled a chair over to her, and we just sat together.
I had all of these thoughts running through my mind. Like how she is at least six inches shorter than me, and how prominent her cheekbones are, and how incredibly vane it is that my society focuses so heavily on being thin.
We would smile at each other. I told her my name and she nodded.
I later found out that she had been at the orphanage for several years, but had spent the last three months in the hospital. I don't know why she has been released.
She was too tired to speak, but she would gesture at me if she needed something, like water.
At one point she needed to use the bathroom. It's a ways away from where we were sitting. I Wrapped my arm around her ribs, and wrapped my other hand around hers. We walked there together. It took a long time. She would stumble and looked panicked. And I just kept repeating "I won't let you fall." As if she could understand, but a part of me thinks she could.
This is how I spent my morning. After awhile Michele went to bed.
I bought the kids a soccer ball today. They were ecstatic.
But first...
HIV vs AIDS. You should know the difference.
HIV is a virus, and AIDS is a condition. HIV stands for Human Immunodeficiency Virus. AIDS is Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.
HIV compromises your immune system and makes it very difficult to fight off disease.
AIDS is the final stage of the HIV infection.
It is not guaranteed that is you have HIV you will contract AIDS. Once a person has AIDS, if they do not take their medication they will likely live only about three years. If they do take medication it is possible to have a nearly normal lifespan.
There you go, I hope that helps.
So this morning I was sitting in the courtyard at CHOAIDS when I saw someone walking out of the house. I'd never seen her before, and I knew this immediately because she is one of the thinnest people I have ever met. This is Michele. She has AIDS. She is fifteen.
Nancy, a woman who works at CHOIADS, was helping her walk down the steps into the courtyard. She was having a hard time balancing and kept bracing herself on the wall. Nancy sat her down in a chair near me (we have four chairs now) and I didn't know whether to stare, or avert my eyes. Both seemed equally conspicuous. So I smiled at her and said "Bon Jour." She murmured something in reply.
So we sat there, sneaking glances at each other for about ten minutes. Then she started to try to stand up. I paused, and then rushed over to her and asked if I could help. Of course she didn't know what I said, but she reached out and grasped my hand. I helped her to another chair that was more in the shade. Careful step after careful step, inching our way along. She sat down, and I pulled a chair over to her, and we just sat together.
I had all of these thoughts running through my mind. Like how she is at least six inches shorter than me, and how prominent her cheekbones are, and how incredibly vane it is that my society focuses so heavily on being thin.
We would smile at each other. I told her my name and she nodded.
I later found out that she had been at the orphanage for several years, but had spent the last three months in the hospital. I don't know why she has been released.
She was too tired to speak, but she would gesture at me if she needed something, like water.
At one point she needed to use the bathroom. It's a ways away from where we were sitting. I Wrapped my arm around her ribs, and wrapped my other hand around hers. We walked there together. It took a long time. She would stumble and looked panicked. And I just kept repeating "I won't let you fall." As if she could understand, but a part of me thinks she could.
This is how I spent my morning. After awhile Michele went to bed.
I bought the kids a soccer ball today. They were ecstatic.
How to negotiate traffic in Port au Prince
I'm sorry I didn't blog the last few days. Internet connection has been really spotty. Actually that's a poor excuse. I was preoccupied walking to the store for cookies, and then eating them all.
There, I said it.
So yeah, Michael and I went to the store yesterday. It's about a 45 minute walk. There was a lot of traffic, and I'm getting very used to just wondering through the middle of the traffic jams. Lightly placing my hand on the hoods of the cars that try to run me over. Like I could actually somehow fend them off.
I had spaghetti for breakfast the other morning. One of my favs. You have the choice of mayo or ketchup as your sauce. I go for ketchup.
I challenge everyone to try eating one of the foods I've listed for breakfast. Spaghetti or breakfast soup (which I think is just lumpy cream of wheat). Your choice.
Things have been really calm. They don't announce the new president until the third I think. So riots shouldn't start unless people get so frustrated that it's taking way longer than it's supposed to.
On Saturday I'm going to Cite Soleil, the biggest slum in Port au Prince. It means "City of the Sun" which is kind of weird. We're going with a guide, which makes it relatively safe. If you don't go with someone who knows the layout...well then you're just a complete moron. I'll try to get pictures.
I'm going to the orphanage soon. I haven't been in several days because we were worried about the elections---I've got to move, the mosquitos are eating me alive.
That's better. I swear, after this lemon/eucalyptus oil concoction runs out, I'm buying Deet.
I find joy in spraying the mosquitos with my bug spray and watching them die. I know, I'm a terrible person.
I had to lie down again yesterday. The weird heat fatigue thing comes and goes in waves. I'm really grateful to be feeling better now.
Anyway, I think I'll prepare to leave for CHOAIDS. I'll try to write again when I'm home with stories about the kids.
There, I said it.
So yeah, Michael and I went to the store yesterday. It's about a 45 minute walk. There was a lot of traffic, and I'm getting very used to just wondering through the middle of the traffic jams. Lightly placing my hand on the hoods of the cars that try to run me over. Like I could actually somehow fend them off.
I had spaghetti for breakfast the other morning. One of my favs. You have the choice of mayo or ketchup as your sauce. I go for ketchup.
I challenge everyone to try eating one of the foods I've listed for breakfast. Spaghetti or breakfast soup (which I think is just lumpy cream of wheat). Your choice.
Things have been really calm. They don't announce the new president until the third I think. So riots shouldn't start unless people get so frustrated that it's taking way longer than it's supposed to.
On Saturday I'm going to Cite Soleil, the biggest slum in Port au Prince. It means "City of the Sun" which is kind of weird. We're going with a guide, which makes it relatively safe. If you don't go with someone who knows the layout...well then you're just a complete moron. I'll try to get pictures.
I'm going to the orphanage soon. I haven't been in several days because we were worried about the elections---I've got to move, the mosquitos are eating me alive.
That's better. I swear, after this lemon/eucalyptus oil concoction runs out, I'm buying Deet.
I find joy in spraying the mosquitos with my bug spray and watching them die. I know, I'm a terrible person.
I had to lie down again yesterday. The weird heat fatigue thing comes and goes in waves. I'm really grateful to be feeling better now.
Anyway, I think I'll prepare to leave for CHOAIDS. I'll try to write again when I'm home with stories about the kids.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
It's my new meditation mantra.
I washed clothes today. I actually don't mind it. The trick is to wait until you literally have nothing left to wear and then spend two hours sloshing your clothing around in a bucket of water that gets progressively more dirty. And then you get new water and start over. Yeeeeeeee what fun!!!
Michael and I went to the store and to lunch yesterday. The streets were surprisingly calm, but the election is today so let's see how that goes.
Last night I needed some duct tape to fix my fan so I asked Michael. He came back with a thin piece of sheet metal that was incredibly sticky on one side. I asked what on earth it was and he said "It's industrial grade airline tape." Or something like that. Of course he would have that.
I sliced my finger open at the orphanage the other day. I ran into the office and bandaged it up, but the thing was I had sliced it open on my hair clip. I have no idea how. I was trying to readjust the clip and then my finger was bleeding. So Katly (one of the women who works there) sat me down in the chair, took away my clip, and cornrowed my hair. It was quite beautiful. Felt great not having all that hair. The result of injuring yourself.
Anyway, I'll go check my laundry, see if it's drying.
Glad to be alive.
--S
I hate mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
I hate mosquitos
It's my new meditation mantra.
I washed clothes today. I actually don't mind it. The trick is to wait until you literally have nothing left to wear and then spend two hours sloshing your clothing around in a bucket of water that gets progressively more dirty. And then you get new water and start over. Yeeeeeeee what fun!!!
Michael and I went to the store and to lunch yesterday. The streets were surprisingly calm, but the election is today so let's see how that goes.
Last night I needed some duct tape to fix my fan so I asked Michael. He came back with a thin piece of sheet metal that was incredibly sticky on one side. I asked what on earth it was and he said "It's industrial grade airline tape." Or something like that. Of course he would have that.
I sliced my finger open at the orphanage the other day. I ran into the office and bandaged it up, but the thing was I had sliced it open on my hair clip. I have no idea how. I was trying to readjust the clip and then my finger was bleeding. So Katly (one of the women who works there) sat me down in the chair, took away my clip, and cornrowed my hair. It was quite beautiful. Felt great not having all that hair. The result of injuring yourself.
Anyway, I'll go check my laundry, see if it's drying.
Glad to be alive.
--S
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Wake up call
At the moment I am eating this thing that I don't know what it is. It's the breakfast that the hostel is providing me with. The only way I can explain it is sweet breakfast soup. It's not that bad.
So yesterday I had a pretty scary experience. I went out with some friends to hang out with them where they live. Their house is about 30 minutes from mine, and in a much nicer part of town, so I was excited. We had a great time. They have a beautiful view and we were caught in an amazing lightning storm. Gorgeous.
I just found a chunk in my breakfast soup.
At midnight they decided to go to another party. I didn't really feel like it, so I decided to go home. They said the roads were surely dry enough to put me on a moto.
I've now just been bit my a mosquito on the bottom of my foot. How?
And there is a hair in my soup.
I guess I'll wait till lunch to eat. Gracious.
Sorry, I'm not meaning to complain, just tired.
So my friend Patrick interrogates several moto drivers to make sure we get a trustworthy one. Eric gives me his jacket, they pay the moto ahead of time, and I'm on my way. We're driving along when I realize that we haven't taken the usual turn to my hostel. It's a thirty minute ride, and I wondered if he had some sort of shortcut. Then we headed out of town. Like lights were disappearing and all I could see was the beginning of the countryside. This is when I realized that I was surely being abducted.
I had a small keychain knife in my pocket, and some money, but no phone. I had expected to be with Pat until I went home.
The moto driver only spoke creole.
I began yelling "Jedco! Jedoc!" Which is a place everyone knows that is right across the street from my hostel. We kept on, getting farther and farther away. I yelled again and he yelled in creole.
I was surely going to die.
Just them he pulled over and found a man standing on the road with another moto.
This was it, I was being sold for ransom.
They blabbered away. The man had a women with him too. I wondered if we could escape together using my knife and amazing self defense skills.
Then they got on a separate moto and we began following them.
Yep, I'm a goner.
Then we turned around. "Jedco? Okay?"
"Okay. Jedco."
Turns out he had gotten lost. We followed the other couple all the way back into town, all the way past everything that had been our wrong turn, and then I was walking through the gates of the hostel. I could barely breathe. Just so happens that I was supposed to be the only person in the compound tonight besides the guard. There were no guests and everyone else had gone out for the weekend to avoid the chaos of the city.
Did I mention that on the way to our friend's house Pat and I got caught in such horrible traffic that we had to get off the moto and actually run through the traffic jam trying not to be hit.
So I headed for my room to the hostel, and there in the hall was Michael. He had been gone on a trip for a few days and had just returned that night. We were relieved to see each other, thinking that we had each been the only ones at the hostel.
It was such a comfort.
Let me tell you about him: He is somewhere between being a father figure and a fantastic friend. He has a wonderful British accent and great taste in food. I'd really been missing him.
We stayed up, standing in the hall, past midnight talking about our experiences that day. He had lost most of his important possessions and his vehicle was stopped in traffic where he was threatened to have his head smashed in with a rock.
The rioting has begun.
We decided to stay here for the next week.
I am still on a rush of adrenaline.
I'm sure he is too.
We're going to lunch today at a rich hotel right around the corner. Safest place to venture. If the streets aren't flooded with thousands of people (literally). In which case we will be stuck there for awhile, but it's still one of the safest places in this area.
I'm excited about that. I'll feel safe.
Got a good night sleep, might take a calming nap in a bit.
Alright, enough of this.
Goodbye.
So yesterday I had a pretty scary experience. I went out with some friends to hang out with them where they live. Their house is about 30 minutes from mine, and in a much nicer part of town, so I was excited. We had a great time. They have a beautiful view and we were caught in an amazing lightning storm. Gorgeous.
I just found a chunk in my breakfast soup.
At midnight they decided to go to another party. I didn't really feel like it, so I decided to go home. They said the roads were surely dry enough to put me on a moto.
I've now just been bit my a mosquito on the bottom of my foot. How?
And there is a hair in my soup.
I guess I'll wait till lunch to eat. Gracious.
Sorry, I'm not meaning to complain, just tired.
So my friend Patrick interrogates several moto drivers to make sure we get a trustworthy one. Eric gives me his jacket, they pay the moto ahead of time, and I'm on my way. We're driving along when I realize that we haven't taken the usual turn to my hostel. It's a thirty minute ride, and I wondered if he had some sort of shortcut. Then we headed out of town. Like lights were disappearing and all I could see was the beginning of the countryside. This is when I realized that I was surely being abducted.
I had a small keychain knife in my pocket, and some money, but no phone. I had expected to be with Pat until I went home.
The moto driver only spoke creole.
I began yelling "Jedco! Jedoc!" Which is a place everyone knows that is right across the street from my hostel. We kept on, getting farther and farther away. I yelled again and he yelled in creole.
I was surely going to die.
Just them he pulled over and found a man standing on the road with another moto.
This was it, I was being sold for ransom.
They blabbered away. The man had a women with him too. I wondered if we could escape together using my knife and amazing self defense skills.
Then they got on a separate moto and we began following them.
Yep, I'm a goner.
Then we turned around. "Jedco? Okay?"
"Okay. Jedco."
Turns out he had gotten lost. We followed the other couple all the way back into town, all the way past everything that had been our wrong turn, and then I was walking through the gates of the hostel. I could barely breathe. Just so happens that I was supposed to be the only person in the compound tonight besides the guard. There were no guests and everyone else had gone out for the weekend to avoid the chaos of the city.
Did I mention that on the way to our friend's house Pat and I got caught in such horrible traffic that we had to get off the moto and actually run through the traffic jam trying not to be hit.
So I headed for my room to the hostel, and there in the hall was Michael. He had been gone on a trip for a few days and had just returned that night. We were relieved to see each other, thinking that we had each been the only ones at the hostel.
It was such a comfort.
Let me tell you about him: He is somewhere between being a father figure and a fantastic friend. He has a wonderful British accent and great taste in food. I'd really been missing him.
We stayed up, standing in the hall, past midnight talking about our experiences that day. He had lost most of his important possessions and his vehicle was stopped in traffic where he was threatened to have his head smashed in with a rock.
The rioting has begun.
We decided to stay here for the next week.
I am still on a rush of adrenaline.
I'm sure he is too.
We're going to lunch today at a rich hotel right around the corner. Safest place to venture. If the streets aren't flooded with thousands of people (literally). In which case we will be stuck there for awhile, but it's still one of the safest places in this area.
I'm excited about that. I'll feel safe.
Got a good night sleep, might take a calming nap in a bit.
Alright, enough of this.
Goodbye.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Not clubbing
Today the kids and I had another drawing session, only this time I brought crayons. Samuel gave me an entire bag of them and the kids were so excited. I was excited too. I spilled them all over the floor. We drew for at least an hour. Then we took some videos which I will FaceBook for you.
I wore a dress on a motorcycle today. Yes I know, I'm very skilled/hardcore.
Today is Samuel's birthday so we might go clubbing. And when I say clubbing I don't mean getting half naked and wasted. I mean having a beer and listening to live music with your friends.
Speaking of clubbing, Jason and I went to a club last night. We could only find one moto driver, so we both hopped on. Jason is very tall and we didn't really fit. Of course I was smooshed in the middle thinking about how if we fell off would I be able to protect my head. Brains are the consistency of butter you know.
I have a lot of pictures, but not a lot to say. It was a rather mundane day.
Also, the peanut butter here isn't sweet like in the states. It has cayenne mixed in. Yum. For real.
I wore a dress on a motorcycle today. Yes I know, I'm very skilled/hardcore.
Today is Samuel's birthday so we might go clubbing. And when I say clubbing I don't mean getting half naked and wasted. I mean having a beer and listening to live music with your friends.
Speaking of clubbing, Jason and I went to a club last night. We could only find one moto driver, so we both hopped on. Jason is very tall and we didn't really fit. Of course I was smooshed in the middle thinking about how if we fell off would I be able to protect my head. Brains are the consistency of butter you know.
I have a lot of pictures, but not a lot to say. It was a rather mundane day.
Also, the peanut butter here isn't sweet like in the states. It has cayenne mixed in. Yum. For real.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Bedtime stories. For me.
Before I go to bed I tell myself a story. Helps me fall asleep. While in Haiti my stories have been two. My room here is small, its walls are cracked and the door does not close properly.
So the first story is that I am a prisoner of war. But they know that I would hold up under torture so well that they can't risk it. My information is too valuable, and if I should die they would surely lose their advantage over the other side. I am dearly wanted back by my comrades, so I am being kept for ransom, living off of nothing but rats I catch through a hole I dug with my own hairpin. I eventually die of rabies. Both fighting sides are beside themselves with grief.
(Okay just so you know, there are absolutely no rats in my room here. Let's get that straight.)
My room here is also complete with a very nice mosquito net, and a fantastic fan. Not to mention a beautiful, decorative rug. So my other story is that I am a princess. The fan is my servant boy waving a palm leaf. And upon waking I am fed chilled orange slices. I marry a rich sultan and live a long, beautiful life. Even after I die, they say that I am the most beautiful queen our kingdom ever had.
I'm now considering melding the two stories together.
A princess, captured by her father's enemy, but far too beautiful to kill. So I am kept in a perfect room at the top of a tower, with a view of the entire city. My father's enemy, a great king, has fallen madly in love with me and has asked for my hand in marriage. I refuse, and spend the rest of eternity gazing over the city that could have been mine.
Something to that effect.
I'll head over to CHOAIDS in about an hour and visit with the kidlets.
It's been slightly cooler at nights lately. Last night the power went out and my fan stopped. I didn't even notice.
I've been feeling much better. The cool(ish) air is doing me good.
We've all been keeping track of the on goings in the slum. Trying to assess when it will be unsafe to leave the compound aka hostel. We're guarded here 24/7 and have a seven foot wall topped with razor wire. The gate is a giant metal thing with a tiny peep hole so you can spy on people outside before you left them in.
Okay I just itched a bug bite until my skin was raw. That was really dumb. Better put on some long pants.
I'll write again this afternoon.
--S
So the first story is that I am a prisoner of war. But they know that I would hold up under torture so well that they can't risk it. My information is too valuable, and if I should die they would surely lose their advantage over the other side. I am dearly wanted back by my comrades, so I am being kept for ransom, living off of nothing but rats I catch through a hole I dug with my own hairpin. I eventually die of rabies. Both fighting sides are beside themselves with grief.
(Okay just so you know, there are absolutely no rats in my room here. Let's get that straight.)
My room here is also complete with a very nice mosquito net, and a fantastic fan. Not to mention a beautiful, decorative rug. So my other story is that I am a princess. The fan is my servant boy waving a palm leaf. And upon waking I am fed chilled orange slices. I marry a rich sultan and live a long, beautiful life. Even after I die, they say that I am the most beautiful queen our kingdom ever had.
I'm now considering melding the two stories together.
A princess, captured by her father's enemy, but far too beautiful to kill. So I am kept in a perfect room at the top of a tower, with a view of the entire city. My father's enemy, a great king, has fallen madly in love with me and has asked for my hand in marriage. I refuse, and spend the rest of eternity gazing over the city that could have been mine.
Something to that effect.
I'll head over to CHOAIDS in about an hour and visit with the kidlets.
It's been slightly cooler at nights lately. Last night the power went out and my fan stopped. I didn't even notice.
I've been feeling much better. The cool(ish) air is doing me good.
We've all been keeping track of the on goings in the slum. Trying to assess when it will be unsafe to leave the compound aka hostel. We're guarded here 24/7 and have a seven foot wall topped with razor wire. The gate is a giant metal thing with a tiny peep hole so you can spy on people outside before you left them in.
Okay I just itched a bug bite until my skin was raw. That was really dumb. Better put on some long pants.
I'll write again this afternoon.
--S
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