My dear friend from Jamaica Plain makes calendars, featuring her art complemented by quotations to fit the rhythms of the year. Mom had turned mine to May already, so these words by Myra Shapiro met me when I returned home Friday night.
The time is certainly welcome. Already enjoyed an evening at the Kompound with food and wine and my favorite company. Nearly all my energy is still Haiti, though: finally perusing the team photo-sharing sites, searching for new Haitian music, pulling out my Kreyòl books to hit that tough next proficiency level, eager to re-read Uses of Haiti as a refresher on the historical power disparities.
Thinking about Haiti is now more a family activity. I woke up Saturday, uh, afternoon to have Mom immediately say, "Bren, I want to go back." It meant so much to have them experience it, learning & appreciating & enjoying. Barr rubbled with HODR and played with kids. Mom eagerly served as clinic "runner" and skilled lab tech for malaria RDTs.
Our last day started with me feeling a bit crummy, because I had no idea how to approach my "last" day. This team was strikingly awesome, and I'd thought more about more projects I could have taken on.... so felt unsettled, leaving things unfinished. And so attached to Leogane.
But after taking my friend Junior to the bus stop (he'd come from Carrefour-Feuilles for check-up with our ortho surgeon, as we plan his potential hip replacement in the States), I decided to walk deeper through the town than I normally take time to do.
On the outskirts, I saw four men building a wooden house. Clumsily tried to snap a candid picture, but one waved me off. So I went up to chat with them, show I meant no disrespect. They weren't hired workers, but rather, working together as friends. In rural areas, people share labor on farms in a tradition of holding "konbit", a work party. I think there are lots of konbit's now for rebuilding.
Later, went to MSF to debrief with Rachelle, the coordinator who showed good cheer during a few middle-of-night interactions. On the way back, told my moto driver I needed to change money. I'd rather have my last $60 in gds, to be ready for return.
Stop for curbside service, and I ask the guy, "Konbyen kòb li ye?" (how much is the money?). He quotes "sèt katrevenn dis." 790 Haitian dollars, per 100 US dollars. With the fixed 5 gds per Haitian dollar, that makes 39.5 gds / USD. Good rate. I am proud to know enough of the system here to do things like change money well on the street. But each day, I realize how much more to learn... I know quite little of Haiti.
One of my favorite activities is walking through town with team members, who work so hard at the hospital that their ventures beyond the premises are few. This afternoon, when we passed through the real Ste Croix, we were given a full tour by Suzi Parker, detailing the plans to reopen there later this summer. I hope it continues to move along.
Then to the Plaj St Luke beach village on motos (kudos to Mom for riding one!). Caught the Caribbean sunset. Back home for a delicious dinner (per usual). Later, most of the team went to "Joe's", a bar around the corner which enjoys very good business from HODR vols & other expats. While I usually pass on these excursions, I of course went this time... and really enjoyed rousing conversation over Prestige's. I'll miss this group, excellent people.
Ran into Wesly as we returned to the house yard, and he pulled me aside. "I am so sad you are leaving. Please come back, Bre..."
Okay, another story soon. But I hope that doesn't mean the first ends.
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