New blog site - for all future blogs

If you have been following my posts, please continue to do so... just at my new blog address:

www.commonfateblog.com

Hope to hear from you soon!

Peace, love and blessings,

Michelle

Haiti: Moca... the last day

            Our last day…  We had just had a wonderful morning playing baseball with over 200 kids and six baseball players from the States (Cleveland Indians and Cincinnati Reds to name a few teams).  Several members of our medical team had been on another trip where they built this beautiful “Field of Dreams” for children living in a poverty-stricken community near Moca, a suburb of Santiago.  We set up our clinic in the new Child Development Center that was built alongside the ball field and planned on seeing the 200+ kids that afternoon.  We had become comfortable in our routine, our ability to stay organized and run things smoothly.  In addition, we were all tired.  It had been a physically and mentally challenging week.  After seeing all the comparably healthy kids running around the fields this morning, I thought today was going to be a piece of cake.  The yogi in me should have recognized that this was pure ego.  According to Wayne Dyer “ego is simply an idea of who you are that you carry around with you.”  The hard part is letting go of your ego and being present in the moment.  And ego will always, always get in your way.  We were low on interpreters, no problem.  We changed the flow of the clinic after we set up, no worries.  We didn’t have the parents to provide information for the physical exams or medication counseling, no big deal.  All these twists and turns were easily managed and alternative solutions were found.  But about 5 minutes into the clinic, one of our interpreters had an epileptic seizure.   As always, the team responded quickly.  We shut down the clinic and dealt with the situation.  We soon learned that he had a history of epilepsy and was on medication.  Arrangements to transport him to the hospital were made, relatives were called, the team pulled together.  For me, this situation was like getting a glass of water in the face reminding us why we were there.  It was about addressing the needs of every one of those children.  It was about letting go of our ego and giving ourselves to these beautiful children. 

We restarted the clinic.  I was working with the Director of the project and she knew each and everyone of the kids by face and name.  I was amazed at the depth of her love for these kids, and in return, by the amount of respect that they had for her.  For this woman, and all the people at this project, it was totally about the kids.  She brought me back to being who I was and not what I was.  At the end of the day, we saw a woman and her son with fresh second and third degree burns from getting caught in a fire when their home burned down.  The boy was burnt on the top of his head and the woman was burned all over her forearm.  Luckily that was the extent of the burns… it could have been so much worse.  Our doctors were amazing with them.  They treated them as best as they could with our limited supplies.  I even got to try my hand at compounding a topical lidocaine preparation for them to use on the burn.  As we were closing down the pharmacy, my good friend (and amazing photographer) Sandey told me to look out the window at the kids on the front lawn.  There was a table of volunteers playing “makeup” with a group of beautiful little girls.  One girl had a head full of curlers and was giving attitude while posing for the camera.  That little girl (and Sandey) pulled me back to who I am and not what I am.  It was a wonderful moment and a nice way to end our last clinic of the week.  I am humbled by these kids.  I am honored to be considered part of this team of amazing healthcare workers.  As always, I am thankful for all that I have and all that I don’t have.  I love you all and will see you tomorrow.

Over the next few weeks, continue to read this blog for updated (novice) photos by me and Sandey’s blog at tenutophotoblog.com for more of her amazing photos and art of our trip.  Dr. Beyda will also post a summary on his blog at medicalmercy.blogspot.com.

Haiti: Returning to Santiago

Buenas noches desde Santiago. Hoy ha sido un largo día de viaje!

We left Cap Haitian around 8am and arrived in Santiago around 6pm so after 8-9 hours of traveling, I am finally settling down to reflect on the day.  What keeps running over and over in my mind is Dr. Beyda’s motto “ABC – anticipate before complications.”  Today, unbeknownst to us, he lived and breathed his motto.  It was “market day” at the bridge crossing Río Masacre (Massacre River) at the Haitian-DR border.  Before I tell you our story, let’s learn a bit of history about this place.  The Massacre River is the site where blood flowed between French and Spaniard colonizers who fought for possession of Hispaniola, the land that is home to both the Dominican Republic and Haiti. It is where approximately 30,000 Haitians were slaughtered in 1937 by the Dominican army under orders by former dictator Rafaél Trujillo.  Even today, blood continues to flow in the river that both connects and divides these countries. At least 16 Haitians have died over the past eighteen months in incidents involving the Dominican military.  Twice weekly the Dominican government allows Haitians to enter freely into Dajabón on the DR side to sell and purchase wares. When the locked border doors finally swing open, there is an unending flow of people, wheelbarrows, and cargo making their way to market. Thousands upon thousands cross, moving swiftly as they maneuver around large potholes in the middle of the bridge. Below them equally large crowds continue to push their way across the Massacre, wading though waist deep water with their products balanced on their heads.

Back to our story… We received our exit visas from Haiti, dropped of our Haitian undercover police guards and began to move into the no-mans land between the two countries, slowly inching our way onto the bridge over the River.  Very quickly we found ourselves surrounded by masses and masses of humanity.  On foot, pulling wagons, on bicycles and pushing wheel barrels, the market-goers blocked our way.  Some of the wagons where pilled so high with wares that they were as large as small trucks.  We found ourselves unable to move.   But we were in their way, in their path.  These are people doing what they do every week, making their trades and our bus was in their way.  We were fish swimming upstream.  It was clearly a situation that could have escalated to a level out of control.  But with calm and poise, Dr. Beyda made a few phone calls and within minutes we had several DR secret service agents guiding us through.  Anticipate before complications… clearly Dr. Beyda had a plan to take care of us.   A difficult situation was made easier due to planning, preparation, and making the right connections. 

What did I see?  Open borders and masses of people trying to trade their goods… everything from rice, pasta, beans to toilet papers and plastic chairs (and maybe some contraband mixed in!).  What did I feel?  Frustration from the locals, tension from myself.  What did I learn?  That we should pay more attention to the local culture… that we should respect their customs… that we should always prepare for the worst and hope for the best… always remain calm and aware of what is going on around me... that the people guarding us may sometime soon have to fight a revolution of their own.  It was “living in the moment” at its best.   I know some of you might sometimes think that these trips place me and the others in the team at risk.  But it is always calculated (and minimized) risk. Today's experience shows that. And without some risk (by someone, right?) these amazing people would never have anything to gain.  If they know that we are willing to do what it takes to help them, maybe one day soon, they will be able to help themselves.

At the core, we were between two countries today… two countries that have a long history of tensions, two countries that open their borders to allow for trade, yet two countries that have not decided how to handle life together on this island.   Haiti is a poor country.  A country that revolted against French rule, a country that has been all but abandoned by its own leaders.  In the DR, on the surface one might think that things are better.  The roads are better, the buildings completed, a large hospital in the center of Santiago… but I have been told that we will see many, many forgotten children here as well.  I am looking forward to my day learning about the children of the DR.

Please read Dr. Beyda's blog (medicalmercy.blogspot.com).  He writes about striving to be who we are and not what we are.  Over the course of this week, I have found that I am not a humantarian, I am not a pharmacist, I am not an American.  I simply a human who has love and hope and joy to give to those who cannot help themselves.  I can only hope that I will continue to be reminded of who I am once I return home.  Don't forget to visit tenutophotoblog.com for photos of these amazing children (but no pictures today because we had to keep our cameras hidden!).

I came across this quote by Elie Wiesel that I really like and think that it is a propo to all that we have seen this week: 

I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings.

These children are our hope.  Peace and love to all!  

Haiti: Justinian Hospital

Bon Soir from Haiti! I am sitting in a beautiful spot overlooking the ocean doing yoga on a cool wood deck. Sandey is working on her AMAZING photos. Check out her blog at tenutophotoblog.com for updated photos. The blog is only a small taste of what she has captured on this trip. I can't wait for you to see the rest. Maybe an art exhibit!

Today we went to visit the Justinian Hospital. We rounded with the doctors and nurses in the peds ward. It was a bit like stepping back in time. Formal white nursing dresses and caps, open air wards, men and women in separate wings. The peds ward was bare bones, peeling walls, incubators that were not even plugged in, rusted beds, power going off and oxygen machines shutting down. No monitors, minimal drugs and blood work and little to no infection control. Yet there was a sign on the door in French that translated to "All children and their parents may enter regardless of nationality.". I love that!

Dr Beyda gave a lecture to the medical interns (in French) on the proper use of CPAP in respiratory distress. He was amazing and the interns really seemed to appreciate his teaching. It was a wonderful close to our first visit to this beautiful country.

I know that in a small way, we started to make a difference in the lives of these forgotten children. I feel honored to have had the opportunity to be here and have hope that Haiti will find itself through the work of incredible doctors such as these.

Tomorrow we head back to Santiago for the opening of a new baseball field for the children of the DR. We will be joined by players from the US. Then one more medical clinic in the DR.

Peace and love!!

Sent from my iPhone from the nearest fair-trade coffee shop or remote hiking trail!

Haiti: Innercity Cap Haitian and Saint Michel

Bonjour d’Haiti!  Il est brillant et au debut ici.  Yes, I am working on my French!  I have even been counseling some of the easier patients myself!  Can’t wait to come home and study this beautiful language.

Yesterday we went set up two clinics in and near Cap Haitian.  The first was right in the center of town.  Compared to some of the more remote locations that we had been to, this was an “inner city” church.  The children all wore uniforms and had big smiles for us.   We had a light morning seeing only 100 kids and no adults.  We even had time to go back to the hotel for lunch (Yeah! No more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches!).  I thought that this was a sign that our day was going to be light and easy.  I was in for a shock.

After lunch, we were scheduled to set up a second clinic on the outskirts of town.  We were not prepared for what we were about to see.  Our bus turned off the main “road” (remember, these paths don’t qualify as roads) and headed down a side street.  As we got further and further in, the taller structures gave way to shacks made from tin siding.  And the pothole-filled bumpy streets of Cap Haitian gave way to mud patches intermixed with hug puddles of standing water.  We all held our collective breath that the bus was not going to get stuck.  Finally, the bus pulled aside and we walked around the water.  We found ourselves at a small church in the middle of one of the worst slums I have ever seen.  Sandey referenced Cabrene-Green, one of the worst slums in America.  But this place was worse than anything that we, as Americans, have ever seen or experienced.  Think Slumdog Millionaire in 4D, using all your senses… the sight of people living on and in a garbage dump, the smell of rotten food and water and excrement… the sounds of misery and despair.  In contrast, 100 beautiful children were singing and waiting for us.  Without thinking, we jumped right in and set up our second clinic of the day.  It wasn’t until later in the afternoon that I would get to really experience the slums of Saint Michel. 

As always, Dr. Beyda gave us our team plan for emergency evacuation.  Even undercover police called in extra patrol.  This place was not like any other area we had been too.  After clinic, we took a short (guarded) walk to the “center” of Saint Michel.  There we found a huge collection of standing water over garbage lined with small shacks on stilts… these are their outhouses.  The waste falls into the same water that they live in and with.  This is the water that permeates the slums, the streets, their homes.  There is no drainage whatsoever and you find this water everywhere.  I imagine it is the same water they bathe in and the same water that infiltrates their drinking water.  I am still trying to process what I saw, smelled, felt and could almost taste. 

A small child followed us as we walked along (one of the only children that actually had shoes – Can you imagine walking barefoot through mud and over piles of garbage and broken glass and metal?).  I snapped a few pictures of him because he obviously kept posing for us.  You can see his photo sent in from my iPhone on the previous post.  He was curious about us as we were conspicuously out of our element.  After about ten minutes I noticed his tee shirt – “Preserve the Future.”  How ironic that this small child, living in the worst poverty on our planet, would unknowingly (the tee was in English and he spoke Creole) wear such a message across his chest.  It was hard for me to see any hope for this place.  Preserve the future? What future? But the sight of this child reminded me that hope CAN be found everywhere.  As we walked back to the bus, we saw a man building.  He was shoveling dirt onto a structural foundation and the dirt kept sliding back down towards him.  One step forward and two steps backwards.  But a sign that maybe there is hope that these people want and will facilitate change.  It will be a hard transformation but I have hope.  I can’t wait for you to see Sandey’s pictures from this place.

I am so thankful for all that I have in my life, my family and my friends, and even more thankful for all that I don’t have.  I love and miss you all. Don’t forget to visit tenutophotoblog.com to see pictures and medicalmercy.blogspot.com to see comments from Dr. Beyda.

Haiti: St Michel picture

I will blog later but want to send in this picture. We just left the
worst slums I have ever seen. These people live on garbage and
standing water with no drainage. The irony in this picture is on the
little boy's shirt... "Preserve the Future". Sometimes it is hard to
see but so important. Love you all.

Haiti: Picture of gardener

Haiti: Picture of baby with CP

Haiti: Juana Mendez

     I am writing this on the road back from a small village near the Haitian-DR border. Amazing technology! As we started our day, Dr. Beyda reminded us of the importance of random acts of kindness. Little did I know that we would be tested on that thought! Today we saw approximately 360 children. We were so busy that I didn't step out from behind the counter until lunch. After lunch, I got called on an emergency for rehydration solution and IV antibiotics. The initial story was that the child was brought in by a woman who found him on a trash pile. It was obvious that there was something wrong with him. Dr. Beyda confirmed that he had cerebral palsy. The boy was lethargic and fairly unresponsive. From a head circumference measurement Dr. Beyda determined that the child was 1.5 years old! I was shocked! He was so tiny! My first thought was that this was a random act of kindness. But as we dealt with his medical issues, hanging fluids, starting an IV, giving oral rehydration, IV antibiotics...Dr. Beyda and our local doctor, Dr. Manno, felt that something was not right with her story. Dr. Beyda gently questioned her and found out that she has ten other children. She felt that she could not care for this boy. After some counseling and support from the project for nutrition, she left wanting to keep the child. It was a good lesson in non-judgement. Something I am not going to forget for a long time.

     Overall, it was an exhausting, trying day both mentally and physically. One paradox that we found at the end of the day... We looked out over the slums from our second floor clinic and looked down on a single sunflower growing next to an organic garden planted in the remains of a old building! A lone gardener was watering his crops using an old gas bucket with holes punched in the bottom. The wall remnants separated his crops. Like Sandey said, a lotus growing in the mud. And, a sign that hope can grow anywhere!

I miss and love you all! Don't forget to check out tenutophotoblog.com for pictures!

If you tweet, you can follow us throughout the day on Twitter: @commonfate, @tenutophoto, and @davidbeyda.

Sent from my iPhone from the nearest fair-trade coffee shop or remote hiking trail! (Isn't technology wonderful! Sometimes it can be used to keep you in the present moment instead of pulling you out of it. I will text in two iphone pictures separately!)

Haiti: Limbe

Sitting in our room after a long, long day Sandey and I are reading about Haiti. It turns out that Cap Haitian is where Christopher Columbus landed in 1742… what he thought was the New World (the first time) was actually Haiti. It also happened to be considered the richest of the French colonies up until the late 1880s. Some of the beautiful French arches and ironwork can still be seen. It is really strange. When you are driving through town, the roads are so full of potholes that the pavement is nonexistent. The buildings look as if they were just abandoned and then simple reinhabited after a hundred years with tin siding added as modern improvements. Civil war has really stopped this country from moving forward. One of our security guards said today that the President is afraid to even leave his compound and that he expects another civil war again soon. (Of course we all replied that soon should wait at least five more days.) The army is nonexistent and the National Police are corrupt. Living in a constant state of civil unrest… mind-boggling.

Back to the medical trip... Before we started our trip today, Dr. Beyda asked us to look in the mirror and "believe." Believe in who we are, believe in why we are here, believe that we have something deeper to give, believe in god, or create our definition of belief. It was an inspirational way to start the day. Sandey and I talked about what it means to be on a mission. Humanitarian mission? What does that mean... a mission to discover our common fate? Maybe more later in the week as I discover (again, as I do each time) what that means.

Today we traveled about 2 hours (45 minutes on a good road) to Limbe. This was a very remote village across two mountain ranges. If anyone wants to read a very interesting book about humanitarian work in Haiti, read Mountains Beyond Mountains (just finished it but now I know where the title came from). As we arrived in the area for our clinic, my first thought was that the rural areas seemed cleaner. Well, there was less visible garbage everywhere but the living conditions were even worse. Mud huts, small shacks, abandoned buildings. We set up clinic in a very small church and hit the ground running. By the end of the day, we saw over 350 patients. All of them sicker than yesterday. Not much apparent malnutrition but serious problems with hygiene, malaria, scabies, pneumonia, dengue and more. Some memorable patients include a beautiful 82 year old woman with an incredible smile (Sandey got a great picture of her), a blind man to whom I had to dispense 5 different medications (try doing Braille pharmacy tags in the middle of the Haitian jungle), and a gorgeous set of 2 year old twin girls. At some point in the middle of the day, we went outside and taught the “chicken dance” and the Hokey Pokey to around 140 young kids… yes, in English. They loved it!! It is incredible to sit in laugh with these amazing children with huge expressive brown eyes, surrounded by poverty and filth, and feel their wonder and love and zest for life.

A striking moment for me today was when Dr. Beyda taught the local doctor and pastor how to take a bucket of filthy water and filter it clean with a $60 filter from the US. Water is a huge problem for these people. All the water projects that we hear about back in the States have never even touched these remote villages. Why can’t we find a way to get these filters for every family and every school that needs them? Digging a well is so much more expensive and may (or may not) happen for years. But a $50 filter that can change their lives and give them good hygiene and a healthy body…? This is definitely something I am going to need to sit on for a while longer.

As always I am humbled by this experience. The resiliency of these children, the curiosity in their eyes, and the knowledge that we all really do have a common fate because we are really all just human, regardless of our skin color.

Bon nui from Haiti.

Please also visit tenutophotoblog.com to see pictures and medicalmercy.blogspot.com to see comments from Dr. Beyda.

Haiti: Trou du Nord

Good morning from Haiti! It is just after 5 in the morning but I couldn’t sleep. Yesterday was our first day of clinic. We traveled to a remote area about an hour from Cap Haitian called Trou du Nord, meaning “hole of the north” in Creole. From the name you can imagine what we saw… poverty beyond imagination. I am still trying to digest the sights, smells, sounds of such pure hardship. The buildings were falling down… remnants of a civil war that tore this country apart. Trash was everywhere, sometimes being burned in streets right next to “shacks” made from old concrete and tin roofs. But in the middle of all this destitution was a small church. We turned a corner in our bus and were greated by over 200 children wearing their Sunday best and singing to us in English. There faces were beautiful and the sounds of their voices are still ringing in my head. No matter what belief or religion, I find it hard to believe that there is not a human being out there that would not be touch by such an incredible scene. The children were curious to see our white (very) faces. The rest of the day was a blur as we hit the ground running. We limited our clinic on this first day to only 220 children (and their families). We got a bit of a late start so we didn’t finish up until around 6pm. Headed back to town for dinner at Hotellaire Roi Christophe, a quaint, old French Colonial hotel near Hotel Mont Joli.

Today we are headed to a more remote village for another day of clinics. Please go to tenutophotoblog.com to see pictures from yesterday and bios of some of team. Also go to medicalmercy.blogspot.com to see comments from Dr. Beyda.

Haiti: In Cap Hatian on Halloween

The trip into Haiti was tough. Three hours from Santiago to the border on bumpy, sometimes unpaved roads. We had minimal trouble crossing the actual border. We crossed Massacre River (very sombering). Then we spent some time sitting in customs as our UN guard was reassigned elsewhere. Dr. Beyda pulled some strings though and was able to get us two undercover policemen to travel into Cap Haitian with us. Good thing he did because we ended up getting stopped by a renegade customs agent on the isolated drive. We didn’t know he was renegade at the time but who knows what would have happened without the guards. After questioning us, we moved on to another checkpoint where we were stopped by the Haitian National Police. Two hours later, we arrived in Cap Haitian. The town is an interesting dichotomy of beauty and sadness. The slums are worse than any other slum I have ever seen but town is nestled between beautiful lush mountains and expansive blue ocean. Our hotel is basic but clean. We had a quick lunch and then settled down for hours of counting and packing meds. We finally finished at ten last night. But we are up early and ready to go. For photos, check out tenutophotoblog.com. I haven't had a chance to upload mine! But Sandy got some great shots. First clinic today… more to come later.