It’s raining and raining

We've been getting a little touch of Hurricane Sandy the last few days.  Despite that, Sr Pat and I, plus Tiden the driver, had to go to Port-au-Prince (PAP) yesterday. We took 5 passengers down; 4 humans and 1 chicken.  Can't explain the chicken.

It's not a fun drive on a good day (4 hours each way about 1 hour of which is on an unpaved road) and certainly not fun in the rain.  We had to go because our primary mission was to pick up food and supplies from Food for the Poor.  This is a US Catholic non-profit based in Miami.  The office in PAP is very nice, even air conditioned, not that we needed that yesterday. I attach a photo of the sculpture that greets you when you first walk into the lobby.  It may have a name but I call it the nameless, faceless beggar, meant, I suppose to suggest the poor that most of the world does not see. As in the photos, pretty much all you can see is a hand sticking out.  The hand has hole in it like a stab wound. 

Anyway, FFP provides mostly food but also all manner of other supplies (medical supplies, desks, tables, chairs and god know what else which probably explains why there are boxes and boxes of random things in the house like Cling-who has a dryer in Haiti?!) to probably hundreds of agencies in Haiti.  You get an assigned day to come down and collect your "stuff" and you pretty much need to show up, rain or shine.  We (mostly Sr. Pat) were collecting for 15 different groups in the Gros Morne area including schools, churches, hospitals and I don't know who all.  We had enough stuff to fill 2 large trucks but poor Pat was there all day dealing with bureaucracy, Haitian style. 

Meanwhile, Tiden and I were running other errands, including picking up Sr. Vivian, an RJM who lives in PAP.

PAP is not a nice place even on a good day and, in the rain, well it's a pretty darn depressing, miserable place.

After 6 hours at FFP, the two very large trucks were finally full and we headed back home with Sr. Vivian (and no chickens).  It's still raining and it's dark before we get home at about 8:30 PM.  We passed one fatal accident on the way so Sr. Vivian said a prayer but it was in Creole so I don't know exactly what was said.  Before we made it back, Tiden got a phone call that one truck got in an accident but at least nobody got hurt and they both showed up this morning.

Today, long before I got up, Sr. Pat was up and gone to where the unloading of the trucks was to occur.  This, of course, was done in the rain because it's still raining. I managed to miss that duty which is why I have the time to write this blog.

Oh, I left out the part about how one of the trucks didn't show in PAP so Tiden, after much yelling into the phone, had to find another truck and driver which, of course, delayed the whole truck loading process and did not make Sr. Pat very happy.

The upside to all the rain is that it keeps the animals quiet so it's not so noisy at night.  One of the many, many downsides and a very minor one at that, is that my laundry has been on the line since Tuesday and I'm getting low on clean undies!

Things in Gros Morne are nothing like they are in PAP.  But, you do have to learn to roll with the punches because nothing is going to go the way you would like and things are always a bit chaotic. 

I can do that.

Thought It Was Going to Get Ugly

Yesterday, Sr. Pat and I encountered a young man in the narrow space between our house and the “Artists’ Shop” next door.  He was shirtless, very skinny and had a very large machete in his hand-at least a foot long. Just as I’m thinking, “This could get ugly,” Sr. Pat starts interrogating him rather vigorously.  Finally, it was determined that he was just digging a hole for “toilet” purposes and, indeed, he had started the hole. It turns out that he is one of the artists who come to the shop and work on various handcrafted items. We  also have locally made baskets, embroidered napkins, bags, shirts and cards.  We then try to sell these items to visiting volunteers and anybody else who drops by.  We also send some to parishes etc. for distribution in the states.  So, if anybody is having a craft sale or other function where handcrafts might be sold, let me know.  I can send photos of the merchandise.

By the way, the reason we were in that area was because Sr. Pat thought she smelled smoke and was a bit panicked about a fire. So, we were wandering around looking for the source of the smoke. It seems they had a fire once in the area just outside our wall.  It took everybody in the house, plus a bunch of kids from the school next door to put it out with a bucket brigade.  It’s not like you can call the fire department. She said it was pretty scary and I don’t think there’s much that scares this woman!

For My Boys

Reid, my 4 year old grandson, told his preschool teacher that “Granny is in Haiti helping kids.” The teacher relayed this to Matt, my son.  Then, yesterday I Skyped with both of them and Adam, the seven year old, asked me how the kids are doing. I’m not sure exactly where they got the idea I’m helping children but I suppose it really doesn’t matter.  I’m inclined to think about all the things I can’t do yet.  But, it seems that just being here shines a light of sorts for two little boys who mean an awful lot to me.  I hope I can live up to their vision.

So, boys, here are some photos of how the kids are doing.

(Photos taken in Pendus, a village outside of Gros Morne, where the volunteers are sent for Creole "immersion.")

Some Photos

                                                                        Our House

                                                           Chapel in the House

                                                   View from the back balcony off my room

                                             Balcony on top floor where our rooms are

What I've Learned So Far

I’ve been in Gros Morne a little over a week now and I’ve made some progress. 

I can find my way to and from our house.  To get to the house, you go up the main road. If you get to the river, you’ve gone the wrong direction.  Turn left at the “Love Bar” and then left up the tree lined driveway.

I can ask who’s knocking at the front gate but, of course, I have no idea what they say back. I get a 1 ½ hour Creole lesson every weekday but then I rarely have time to really study.

I found the peanut butter.  It’s in the 1 gallon Creole Vinyl Acrylic Paint bucket. And, yes, the bucket is full to the brim with peanut butter!

I know to be dressed and ready to go at all times because there’s never much advance notice of where we’re going or when.  Like last night, we were eating dinner at 6:30 PM when Sr. Pat gets a call inviting us to a birthday dinner party for a local priest which was to start at 7:30PM.

Speaking of Sr. Pat, I don’t know how she does it. Her phone rings incessantly, usually with somebody wanting something.  And, you can’t walk out the front gate without somebody accosting her.  There’s a staff person whose primary job, it appears, is to screen the visitors and there are plenty of those who make it inside.  So, the ones waiting outside are the ones that didn’t pass Madam’s “smell test.”

Normally, there are two Religious of Jesus & Mary sisters here (they’ve both been here about 15 years) but Sr. Jackie is now in France (where the Order originated) on a renewal program.  That means Sr. Pat is wearing two hats.  Not only that, but only one of us 3 volunteers can even remotely function in Creole so we’re really not that much help to her yet. She’s also the only person here who can answer all our questions.

Sr. Pat is primarily responsible for the tree nursery and the reforestation projects, among other things.  I think she started with the trees here at the house because I’m told that the place only had 4 trees when they built it.  Now, we’re completely surrounded by trees, including the long driveway up to the house.  It’s really quite beautiful. She’s come a long way from a city girl raised in the Bronx!

I know which lights to turn off in the morning.  This one is fairly critical because, if you don’t, we will eventually lose power.  We have solar power and large batteries, but we still have to be careful. There’s also a generator that is used as needed. By Haitian standards, of course, we live in luxury.

I visited the court house where I met all three judges.  I’m not sure why there are three since there’s only one court room and, when I was there, no litigants.

I’ve been to the hospital, Alma Mater.  It is probably a stretch to call it a hospital but they do perform some surgeries there.  Most beds that I saw didn’t have any sheets; just a plastic cover which can’t be too comfortable in this heat. There’s really no privacy at all as we (my Creole teacher and I) walked into any room we (he) wanted. There was a line of people outside the gate and more lines once you got past the guards. I guess we shouldn’t complain about our emergency room waits.

Thanks for all you prayers of support, emails etc. It means a lot to me.

My Introduction to Gros Morne

The drive from Port-au Prince to Gros Morne on Tuesday night was pretty hair raising and I didn't even see the 3 accidents along the way.  I was in the back seat talking to a nun who arrived later in the same day as I.  The nun who lives here, Sr. Pat, was in the front seat and, I later learned, was saying her rosary. It was dark and pouring rain and I'm surprised we didn't end up with some little scooter splattered on our windshield like a wasp. Of course, such an incident would explain the multiple cracks running across the entire windshield.

I've met a gazillion people I'm supposed to be working with but I can't remember anybody's name. Also, I can't really talk to them yet.

There are so many procedures to do around the house.  What lights to turn off when, what goes where, when you can throw toilet paper in the toilet and when you can't.  There's even a prescribed order for feeding the dogs (oldest to youngest).  There are 3 dogs and some cats. I don't know how many cats there are except that there's one less than there used to be because the dogs killed one.  Nice, huh!  Survival of the fittest here.

I am in charge of the “Doctor’s House” which is where visiting volunteers stay, usually, as you might guess, medical personnel.  There’s a group coming in Sunday which means I have to come up with the menu for their stay. I can't think of a job that I'm less qualified for. Then, I have to communicate said menu to the staff, even though I’ve only had a grand total of 41/2 hours of Creole class.  I should be pretty good at charades by the time I get home!