Homeward Bound

Mom is safely back in the United States and her reflections of her trip are dripping with accounts of awe and humbleness. There is nothing so thrilling as talking to a person who is betwixt and between, living an international experience on their home soil. She tasted Haiti in her mouth while standing in a pristine, peaceful, quiet US bathroom, and her sleep is taking her back to the place that changed her life in under two weeks time. She talks about her team and it feels as though our family has expanded to include each member. I can say that Susan has certainly claimed a permanent spot close to my heart, and I have not even seen her face! How hard it must be to experience something so totally physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually and then be removed from the situation. As her own reality sinks back in, undoubtedly, Mom will see Haiti in the corners of her normalcy, and it will continue to shape her interactions with the world around her. Everyone who has read this blog, thank you for taking the time to do so and for your support. I love you, and am forever shaped by the way you took time out of each day to connect with a country you may have never known, my mom's story, and my words. Mom, thank you for being brave and helping others have the chance to do the same. I love you and look forward to paying it forward and cross pollinating.

Transitions

As the immediate crisis dies down in Haiti, a thin line is being drawn between it and the harsh realities of Haitian life after an earthquake. The U.S.S. Comfort is gaining immediate global attention, and the world is forcing an exultation and paying forward sincere appreciation for those willing to assist people in need, while we at home send money, pray, and exhaust ourselves while chronically watching the news. New teams arrive in Leogane, supplies dwindle, people are still hungry, and our team is beginning to pass the medical torch to incoming medical aid. Our team is saying good-byes, and some members are preparing to leave while others remain. Some team members are home now, sending thank you emails to their new comrades and remarking about the bittersweet joy they experience when holding their families close and lying in their own bed. Haiti is as permanent an experience as a tattoo, although it's influence may not stand out in twenty years as much as green ink contrasting on aging skin.

I started crying while teaching yesterday. The weight of the earthquake and the significance of my mother hit me hard. It was not full blown sobs, just big glossy eyes and a weird crackle in my voice. Probably the most effective form of classroom management to quiet a room that I have found. The students were pretty silent for a minute after the voice cracking. But then, they started working, I told them that I was choked up because of how proud I am of my mom, and the chaos of seventh grade pre-algebra in the afternoon resumed. The lingering impact of this was evident after class. Two students collecting their materials were talking about how they think it would be so cool to get up and go to a place they never heard of so they could help people. They decided that in doing so, they could be, like, super heroes, and, like, fix people's broken legs, and, like, build cool new school buildings for kids like them. This experience has taught them that the world is bigger than themselves, and that if they ever want to make a change, other people will fundraise for them, talk about them, share their stories, and support their efforts. Today, Mom called while I was teaching the same class. I put her on speaker phone (it was the least I could do for the class that has seen my emotional depth more than they asked to) and two of my students started yelling, "You're so cool!" I guess, in a paralyzingly profound experience, that is the best way to sum up the people who are fighting to survive and supporting survivors.

The next post will be from my mom. Below is a link to a New York Times article that she was in some way connected to:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/02/world/americas/02leogane.html

When the disaster is over

Facing new disaster must, in some ways, be easier than facing pervasive disaster. The news is beginning to shift away from the Haitian earthquake and Obama and his Republican pals are gracing the airwaves more than dust covered Haitian children. Amputations have been performed and casts have dried. Rubble lies in heaps. And what made news (riots for food, homelessness) is now considered real life. It must be trying to be in Haiti today. A mass exodus is taking place out of Port-Au-Prince, but really, where will people go where opportunity will provide a safe and secure life? The country, and its neighbor, are islands. There is no escape.



When I lived on St. Thomas, I sometimes wanted off the island so badly that, had I not been afraid of the water, I may have swam to another island. No threat to my life or the life of my family existed when that feeling washed over me. I guess this is where I must pull out cultural relevance and consider that Haitians have been on their own island for hundreds of years and may not want to leave, regardless of their fears. I wish I were there to ask people, what is it that you want for the long term? What could I give you today that would bring some relief to your soul? I would assume it would be food or shoes. That is what I want when I am afraid. Plus, without food, one starves, and without shoes in Haiti, one can hurt her feet and sustain an injury subject to life threatening infection. Yet, a sack of flour or rice will only go so far. The quote, "Give a man a fish, and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he will eat for his life" comes to mind. Many of Haiti's people know how to fish and know how to grow food, but do not have the resources. So perhaps, instead of sending immediate food or shoes, knowing that resources for self sufficiency were low to begin with and are practically barren now, I might send something else. Prayers seem to be making a difference, just look at the survivors STILL being pulled from the rubble. I would also send seeds for planting and animals for sustenance. A goat can provide company, milk, meat and leather. I wonder if that is what people would want. It's frustrating to not be there to ask.

A link to Heifer, a world-wide organization that provides animals to low-income families across the world (including the United States)to provide opportunities for self-sufficiency:
http://www.heifer.org/

A Day Off

Mom is taking a "day off" today. She has been so consumed with her tasks at hand for the week and is in need of some slower paced activities. I liken her experience so far to driving in a car. Her forward movements have allowed her brief snapshots of a million scenes, and today she is pulling in to a rest stop. Unfortunately, this creates a space for homesickness and the chance for the depth of her snapshots to take hold and sink in. Undoubtedly, Haitian people have moved her and surprised her in ways she had not expected. Bob, the team's chaplain, wrote about how, when going to a doctor or seeing a doctor, patients do not moan or complain about pain. The only time wailing is heard is when a new facet is introduced to the extreme pre-existing pain, like when a patient in transport experiences a bump in the road. My mom commented upon the pervasive faith that Haitians have, and how she continually hears people thanking God that they are alive. People who have lost their children, whose legs are being amputated, whose newborns are malnourished reach out to God and thank him for what they have, which in many cases is solely their life. Despite a lack of resources, including restroom facilities, food and water, Haitians continue to tend to their dignity as girls plait one another's hair and grandmothers sweep the 9 square foot piece of street where they sleep at night. After the magnitude of loss the country has experienced, via earthquake and other natural disasters and political unrest, I personally would expect to encounter speculative people with distrust and fierce anger. The media has certainly fed me enough images of Haitian violence and heartache. Yet each story shared has an undertone of awe and pride for Haitian people. Their tenacity is heartbreaking and inspirational.

Yesterday, Mom went to the Marine and Naval compound in another area. (She does not know where she is in relation to any particular place. In fact, Haitian Americans do not know where "home" is any longer because the structures of childhood are not their as beacons to their internal compasses.) The Marines have blown Mom's mind. Their gentleness with children seems to be her underlying observations of these heavily garbed military people. Food for U.S. citizens is not abundant, and the military seems to eat only what will allow them to keep their strength. Most only eat 1/4-1/2 their rations and then slowly sneak small amounts of food to children throughout towns and in their camp. Haitians who receive food bars are now ingesting over 2,000 calories daily and this sudden increase in satiated stomachs is causing a rush of visits to the doctor for stomach and head aches. Imagine living a life with a half empty stomach most of the time and then suddenly experiencing fullness and how sick that would feel!

So far today, during her "day off", mom has talked to me while running from a giant turkey, described the cows and calves eating in the grassy field, watched the Japanese contingent do their daily calisthenics, and had to get off the phone to start an IV of fluids in her dear teammate who needs hydration. This may be the most unique "day off" of her life.

The Wolf Moon

Yahoo news has replaced its headlines about Haiti with an article on tonight's wolf moon. We exited 2009 with two full moons in a month and entered the year with the brightest full moon planned for 2010. If you are lucky enough to have clear skies tonight, Yahoo says that your world will be fully illuminated. Imagine the things you can see tonight by the light of the moon that you never get to see! The shadows of trees by night, the glimmer in someone's eye that is ellusive in daylight, the intimate gestures of intimacy such as the close proximity of bodies walking silently from one place or another. The rare and seductive bath of moonlight often draws us out of our safe confines of home when its glare awakens us from sleep. In Colorado, moonlight can be like a naughty friend seducing you to run away, as it pesters sleeping souls with brightness as the coyote calls in the background hit resound like whispers telling you to wake up, come join the party. Full moons are often associated with odd and heightened behaviors, people with alzheimers are prone to a night of insomnia and retrospection, lover's swoons sound like falsetto desperation, and girlfriend giggles turn into tear filled nights of gut laughter.

I have read a lot of prayers on the internet about Haiti, and I am saying my own. My grandmother is praying and if anyone can remember to pray about the specifics, she can. No doubt remains that the people of the world are sending their thoughts to all people in and around Haiti. Tonight, I will pray for a small thing. I will pray the the people who suffer the loss of loved ones, limbs, jobs, homes, faith, food, water, favorite possessions, and assets unimaginable will have clear skies. I hope that their life will be illuminated in unexpected, unique, and beautiful ways. I hope that Mom doesn't even need her headlamp as she makes her rounds to examine children's faces as they look up at the moon.

Making Connections

Here are two links that are connected to our team in Haiti:

News article from Boulder, Colorado's Daily Camera, about our team:
http://www.dailycamera.com/boulder-county-news/ci_14282887

Prayer that is held close to the heart and sent by Susan, Ora's wife, to me as we sought comfort in exchanging news of our loved ones:
http://www.gbod.org/worship/default.asp?act=reader&item_id=48380

News From Leogane

Despite the extremely hot temperatures, our team is out in full force, doing home visits and seeing people in the clinic. Using the electric generators that the Japanese brought, the team is utilizing their materials as well as possible. The crew from Iowa has been working on medically-based health needs, while our team is working primarily on pediatrics and orthopedic-based needs. The people of Leogane are living in tent cities, with approximately 300 people living on each "block." With limited food supplies and no potable water, families are reuniting, connecting with one another, and expanding their communities in ways they could not have foreseen. Little boys collect cans and string and spend hours trying to fly their invented kites while mothers and fathers look after our nursing staff and ensure our loved ones are receiving loving support.

While death is a veil over Haiti, life is sprouting and healing is taking place. The United States Marines travels throughout the country, young people in the heat wearing full regalia, passing out smiles and picking up the injured. They stop by our team's clinic to drop off critically ill patients, and once those patients are stabilized, the Marines take them to their naval ship to continue treating them. The Marines are gentle with children, and give all children any/everything they may carry in their pockets. They ask Haitians, in fragments of verbal language and gestures, permission to support, and they cradle babies as if they have been doing so all their lives.

Our team sees at least 200 people per day and is performing 20-30 orthopedic surgeries per daily. Mom tends to children and worked with her team yesterday and greeted a baby entering the world. The mother of this child will undoubtedly remember the man who held her body and the man and woman who caught her child as she entered the world! Along the road from Leogane to Haiti, where Mom was driving to get anesthesia to bring back to camp, people making a mass exodus from the scene of their earthquake devastation. Everywhere, people are helping people. Mom reported that not a single one of her patients has died! She stays up at night monitoring the children, using a headlamp as her source of light. She has identified all the street dogs, not by their shape or color, but by their howls, and I listened to the baying of sorrowful dogs in the background throughout the entire conversation. While the people surrounding Mom seem to be working hard to glue back pieces of their lives, it is the dogs that are staying in one place and verbally mourning the evident disaster of the earthquake.

Our team is now a family. They love and value one another, and they are keeping their eyes on the goal of supporting the people around them.

Reasons to Love Haiti

Haiti is my Mecca. It is a place where holy and amazing events have transpired and it is a place that I have revered for years. I love Haiti.

I was born a super white girl in white-girl Colorado. Skin color was on my mind as far back as I can remember. I was (am) so white that light reflects off of my legs and causes temporary blindness. You may have noticed that I don't always capitalize what you consider proper nouns-- well, let me emphasize my skin color by telling you that I am W-H-I-T-E. So white that other white kids would comment at the pool. Many a joke has been made at the expense of my glowing skin. I have always known and been shown that skin color brings status. Don't let me convince you that I am ashamed of or in denial of this whiteness. It is one of the primary facets of my identity and I have come to enjoy the way my skin replicates the tape on construction worker vests. Skin color is simply an identity component that I have always considered. Fast forward to high school. I learned about Persephone, Demeter, and Hades at the same time that I learned about Haiti. I confused Hades and Haiti. I then learned that Haitians are B-L-A-C-K. This got my skin color radar all wound up. I got all angry because I thought it was unfair that Hades was portrayed as a terrible guy from what I could only call Hell and that Haiti is considered hell and that all the people there were dark skinned, making dark-skinned (or non-white...aka tan) people non-trustworthy and loony. Call what I have a hypersensitivity to skin color, but I believe my thoughts have a connection. I began noticing how I was taught ethics of good/bad, heaven/hell, white/black, saintly/demonic. Notice how the common denominator is always the unwanted adjective and the numerator is the constant ideal. I am not black, but when these connections were made, I, in my own little way, empathized with people who were publicly judged by the color of their skin. Fast forward to college.

I majored in Ethnic Studies and I focused my education on American Indians and women in the African Diaspora, with my primary lens on Haiti. (My final project centered on women, resistance, religion and identity in Haiti.) Haiti is the first republic to gain independence through slave revolution (August 14, 1804). That means that despite being ripped out of their homes, dragged across an ocean, witnessing family members thrown overboard to sharks, spoken to in foreign tounges and forced to live in horrific conditions while learning that they were no longer human, people of African/Indigenous and mixed-Colonial blood decided that they still had the right to live and thrive according to their own value system. Without aid from any superpower, enslaved Haitians overthrew the dominant power which tried to squash their souls. Pretty awesome. We are talking about a group of people who did not compromise their values-- instead of learning and accepting French as The Language, Haitian people integrated the vocabulary, syntax, cadence, and languages of the indigenous Taino, the various African dialects transferred from across the ocean, Colonial French and Colonial Spanish to create the national patois, or Creole. Instead of believing that Catholicism justified slavery and the sub-human status of dark skinned people, Haitians identified the similarities between Catholic saints and "gods" born in Africa and Haiti and a.) embraced Catholicism and b.)fused it with a variety of African beliefs to create the valid religion of Vodou. Haitians do not view life as a series of dichotomies.
Where as in the United States, there is an ideal, that ideal is not really available to the majority of the population (let us open our minds to issues of race, class, gender, sexual identity, etc). Whereas White in the United States means "good", "saintly", "pure", and Black means "evil", "unwanted", in Haiti, life is a series of human interactions and integrated value systems. Despite a lack of global humanitarian interest, a variety of military coups and forced occupations, and continual natural disaster, Haiti lives. The people of Haiti pass on stories through generations, value their history and love their country. They rely on their country to provide sustenance and they work to support themselves and their extended families. The people of Haiti accept realities and deal with all aspects of real life. They can not push issues under the rug or go shopping to cover up their daily stresses. I love Haiti for the perspective it has offered me. I am forever indebted to the country for opening my eyes to the possibilities of the world, modeling on a macro-scale the reasons why one should create identity, and for expanding my capacity to open my eyes to my own experience and country and embrace it because of and despite all it's complexities.

A link about hope in Haiti:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rob-morrison/10-days-in-haiti_b_438503.html

A link about religious perspective and the earthquake:
http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/guestvoices/2010/01/voodoos_view_of_the_quake_in_haiti.html

Day Seven: A phone call

Mom called Danny this morning and had a two minute conversation with him. She is going strong and the work keeps coming in. The team is performing surgeries and worked a 24 hour shift the other day. She sends her love to everyone at home and carries our thoughts with her each day.

Day Six/Seven: An Update!

It's funny how years can fly by but some days seem to last forever! I know we have all been holding our breath for an update, and we can thank Susan, the wife of one of our teammates, for this one. She catches brief updates via satellite phone from her husband almost nightly.

The team is working hard each day, providing a myriad of services despite the temperatures of one hundred five degrees and the 4.__ tremor that they felt yesterday. It seems the tremor did not cause as much a scare/panic that you or I might imagine. The team is getting along, and enjoying one another's company. When the team had first arrived, their services were not quite sought after or recognized, perhaps due to the pre-existing international teams and the crew from Iowa, but that is no longer an issue. I imagine now that people know our team is there, they might become even more busy! Supplies and food for people are low, but there. Yesterday, people around our team had a "manifestation", or a demonstration, because they have not received adequate food supplies. A food delivery had been made to Leogane, but there was no one to distribute it and, once delivered, the food was not plentiful enough to go around to everyone.


Our team does have enough supplies, which have been delivered from Americare, Rochester Hospital and Notre Dame. They provide services outside, under a tarp and between two buildings. Patients with critical needs are being seen indoors, in the nursing school/hospital. The students of the nursing school are impressive and yesterday delivered a baby!

All in all, we can surmise that our team is tired, busy, and making a difference in the lives of others each day.

Day Six:

No news is supposed to be good news. There has been no news since an email from Jodel on Sunday.


My classroom is now decorated with a map of Haiti, a poster that students created with facts about the earthquake, and we are reading the book, A Taste Of Salt, out loud as a class. I teach math. Sometimes finding the connection between Haiti and seventh grade math state standards and IEP goals is a bit of a challenge. Our class donation jar is slowly filling with silver coins and today a student asked, " There are tons of people in our own country who need help, why are we not helping them?" And, with his words, the elephant in the room became visible. Most students are fascinated to learn about the country of Haiti and feel very empowered to raise money for the people and for the country. For the most part, students perceive Haitians to be a lot like them-- people with families, homes, and pets. There is no air of superiority, no comments about how the Haitians can not help themselves, no degradation. However, there are the few who take the coins out of the jar, those who draw on the map in the classroom. Those who wonder why people don't see our own aches, our own devastation. And to them, here is my reply:

The world is a large place in many ways and there are differences to be celebrated and explored. Despite its size and diversity, earthlings share fundamental similarities that can be sometimes hard to see. We are born of families and we thrive off of connections with the earth and other living things. We judge too much and we share too little. We all love food, laughter and the smell of fresh air. In the United States, we have systems designed and in place for people who have little. We have access to water, public restrooms, education, technology, and public transportation. Some people in this country do not receive adequate support and it is problematic. We should fund raise more for those in need. We should not wait for devastation to act in support and solidarity with our own country people. However, just because a spotlight is shed on another country in need at this moment, does not mean that we have forgotten those in need at home. In fact, ample room remains to love and learn about people from all walks of life, and stepping out of our own spotlight for now will allow us to better know our neighbors and, eventually, ourselves. For now, this moment, let us reach out to those we can touch and support them by saying Thank you, I am glad you are here, let's smile at strangers, let's share our lunches with those who are hungry. But let us also make space to feel the weight of a country that falls to pieces (literally and figuratively) more often than anyone would like, and support that country as its people again rise from the ashes in order to survive. Doing so will make us better partners to those close to home.

Day Four: Cross Pollination

A Daughter's Thoughts:
An acidic waterfall has coursed through my body since last Wednesday, when my mother told me that she was leaving for Haiti. The sound of blood pumping through my ears keeps me up each night and kinetic bursts of energy are keeping my apartment more clean than ever. A lot of labels could define this feeling, but these symptoms are convincing me of one thing-- I am alive. I am alive and I am in a situation in which I can choose how I act, reach out, touch others, and impact lives. That choice is in and of itself the definition of humanity, but there is one choice that sets me apart from most people in this world. I can choose how and when I want to act, reach out, touch others and impact lives. This is my privilege. Circumstances of privilege make the concept elusive and many people who share similar values, economic status, and experiences consider privilege to be a social norm or a god-given right. Donating to Goodwill, adopting a mangy mutt, volunteering and recycling are acts of graciousness...but do not diminish my privilege in our global community. Privilege is the foggy glass that separates me from truly connecting with humanity with no strings attached and I often find glimpses through clean windows without it to be blinding and caustic. For me, privilege is my security blanket as well as the thorn in my side that continually distracts me from life's full bounty.

My mom abandoned privilege this week. She knew what had to be done and she did it immediately. She left her family, her grandchild, she reached out to colleagues for help (she's not a person who typically asks for help), she was unable to connect with many of her favorite people before disappearing into a foreign place, she ignored the fact that she would enter a land of temperature extremes (which is difficult to ignore, since her internal thermostat continually reads 400 degrees Fahrenheit), and she did so despite the fact that it might be an uncomfortable experience on a myriad of levels. The only belongings that were truly hers to bring were nursing scrubs and conviction that each person on this earth deserves recognition, access to health care, food and water, dignified support and love in dire times of need. She is currently looking through a lens of life that is not smudged with sale advertisements, diet pills, drama, CNN anchors, or options for leisure time (aka: privilege). She is participating in Real Life, touching people whose hurt, anger, fear, and human needs run so deeply that she has no space or time to judge them or anyone else. She explicitly told me to keep people in the loop of her experience, but under no exceptions was I to paint a heroic picture. And, I won't. She is not a hero. She is a human capable and driven to live with a clear vision of the world, no matter what type of glare or discomfort this brings. She is willing to try and is not held back by the possibility of failure. Failure is only a concept of the privileged.

I keep hearing people say that they wish they were in Haiti with my mom. The truth is, we all are. Those who touch my mom's life have pollinated the flower of her life with strength, bravery, and laughter, and she has done the same for us. She left for Haiti because her family pushed their comfort with her close proximity to the margins to make space for her to touch people on the margins of this global community. For that, we have packed away some privilege and wiped a smudge off of our cloudy windshields. Her friends have given their hearts, prayers, belongings, and financial support without question and with the knowledge that there will be no souvenirs, postcards or individual recognition. Their voices are whispering soothing remarks and funny jokes into her ears in the middle of the night. Her friends are connecting with one another and with new people, expanding communities of support and recognizing the ways in which even the privileged impact lives regularly. Mom's colleagues are in Haiti with her each time they triage and support at home, and each time they work a shift that they thought was time to spend with their families. Resonance is undoubtedly the breeze that relieves Mom just when she thinks it is just too hot. K.B. refers to the recognition of other people's needs and the response to support those needs cross-pollination. I am taking her actions and idea and trying to share it, as it names the phenomena that all readers of this blog are experiencing. In one way or another, those of us who maintain privilege and have supported one representative (or more) in visiting Haiti are carrying the essence of life from our own spirit to another and supporting life's fragility through a clear lens of Real Life.

Day Four: Second Day Working WIth Wounded

The team's leader, Jodel, spent the day ensuring that the team remained hydrated, healthy and in good spirits, among his other responsibilities. He reported that the team is cognizant of the hard work that the Japanese and Candadians are doing and that our team is seeking out and offering to support to whomever has a need. It has been a long day and the team will set aside one day this week to take care of each other and fill their eyes, lungs, and spirits full of a part of Haiti that is not currently in despair. What relief he brings in sharing this news, as my mother would not stop for one moment if she had her way. In his email this evening, Jodel made a note of the need for the team to pace themselves, which reflects an underlying knowledge that if the team is not taken care of, the members will not be able to best serve the people they have come to nurture back to health. He also shared that the team is aware of the work that needs to be done in Haiti both in the short and long term and has asked us all to pray for not only the team, but Haitians who will bear the mark of the earthquake's devastation for years into the future.

Leogane, Haiti: Facts

* Leogane is approximately 20 miles west of Haiti's capital, Port-Au-Prince-- current drive time from Port-Au-Prince is two hours and most foreigners receive escort services from one location to another

* Questions about violence in Haiti: Haitians have reported frustration that there is not enough aid and the government has not posted any statements to the people of Haiti, so information is primarily here say. Many Haitians have made it clear that they want aid to flow into NGOs and NOT the government. May people in Leogane have agreed to non-violence, as the foreign aid does not satiate their need, but that foreigners are obviously putting forth their best efforts to support without dominating the situation.

* Mass graves line the main street of Leogane

*Leogane's population prior to the earthquake was 134, 000

*The primary countries supporting Leogane at the present: Japanese and Canadian healthcare providers and Sri Lanka United Nations Peacekeepers

Video Coverage of medical aid, shanty homes built as a result of devastation, and Leogane center:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPIlY4m7wUE

Day Three: Life in Leogane

From Lee, as told to Kelly:
They are working in Leogane, in one of the few remaining structures of the city. Even people who have access to the shelters they call home tend not to venture indoors and are choosing to sleep alongside their countrymen on the streets or in what can best be described of as shantytowns. While people in the United States may imagine the country is flooded with United States aid, this United States team has not seen any Red Cross or United States military officials. In fact, their team is surrounded by fully efficient Japanese health care officials who carry their own x-ray cart and wear matching outfits, to boot. United Nations troops are warmly offering assistance and protection, and they are from Sri Lanka. Mom is essentially in a bowl where every nationality is truly adding flavor, depth, complexity and surprising textures to the experience. While there are healthcare officials seemingly all over their block, and despite the 130 boxes of medical supplies that this team carried with them, the overall feeling of the team is that more supplies are needed. Considering that most injuries being treated are orthopedically related (and as a daughter not on the scene I am unsure if this is the general case or because the team has such specialized skills in orthopedic work), it was eye opening for the team to walk on site and see that many injuries have been treated with hemostats, saws, and kitchen utensils.

The team, along with all other medical teams are treating people on-site and making home visits. With temperatures of 107 degrees farenheit, I can only assume my mother will need to sit in an ice bath for a month for the slightest relief from the heat. The team is getting along wonderfully-- 8 men, 4 women, three of their team nurses. There is an abundance of doctors compared to nurses, and most registered nurses who are there have served in a nursing capacity for ten years or less. The team is teaching one another new vocational techniques and forging success stories the best they can for the people they are serving. Mom's voice was so enthusiastic, alive, and confident today when we spoke together on the phone. Her dependency on her team is evident and I am touched at the meaningfulness of the relationships that have been built in little over a 72 hour time period. Considering that the team arrived to this city in the dark (imagine DARK-- no electricity, no fuel for fires), and most do not speak the language of the people, our team is making due with what they have and thriving in ways that Americans may not typically imagine. Mom's first home visit was to a woman who had passed away, and while on the phone, she was watching a four year old's eyes flutter open, having recently received an IV of medication. She is witnessing loss and miracles simultaneously. One can assume that one can not know death until one knows life and according to Maya Deren, the author of Divine Horsemen, the Living Gods of Haiti, "death itself we recognize is not so much by what it is as by the fact that it is not life. As the land and the sea define each other at the shore, so life and death define each other by exclusion." Mom is creating reality, defining and supporting those as they walk toward life and those whose path is a dignified death. She is safe, she is connecting with her unknown and she is sharing with others all that she knows and has mastered.

A CNN link for brief information on Leogane:
http://www.ireport.com/docs/DOC-392288

Map of Leogane and the impact of the earthquake:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8466385.stm

Reports of Assistance in Leogane:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/01/18/AR2010011803833.html

Leogane Residents Share Out and Bury Dead the Day of Lee's Arrival (video included)
http://www.necn.com/Boston/World/2010/01/16/Haitians-in-town-of-Leogane/1263671749.html

Day Three: Mwen vle ede; Ki jan mwen ede?

Today's title is Creole for, I want to help, how can I help.
Mom called today and I will readily share that I missed her call and could kick myself. I want to hear her voice because her phone voice sounds so cool, calm, collected and factual, and I know that she will give me her LeeMom voice when she hears something other than my answering machine. Here is what she said on the machine, along with the email messages that other families, and Jodel, the coordinator of this trip, shared:

The team that Mom is on, which needs some type of flashy name in my opinion, arrived in Leogane, Haiti last night after dark. They ate spaghetti, and met Jodel's parents, who live and work as doctors in Haiti. The team then retired and slept on the floor inside of a hospital which has, at this point, withstood over 60 aftershocks. In the middle of the night, a tarantula greeted a sleeping team member, and I am imagining that the whole team was touched by its straightforward approach. What a welcoming committee!

The team set up an operating room and will be mostly providing orthopedic services to amputees, fractures, bone breaks. The people of Leogane are sleeping outside, despite any buildings which remain standing, and the reports of team member, Ora, are that the town is mostly flattened. For a satellite view of before and after shots of buildings in nearby Port-Au-Prince, visit: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/01/14/world/20100114-haiti-imagery.html

Jodel reports that the team is upbeat, hydrated and fed. Their work has begun, and they are taking advantage of their opportunity to ask, Mwen vle ede; Ki jan mwen ede?

Day One: Lee's Thoughts

I am on a plane heading for JFK with Joe and Sue, a minister and his wife from a Haitian based church in Denver. We have 25 huge boxes of medical supplies that Joe managed to have donated from various medical corps throughout Denver that heard of our trip. This is an amazing grassroots group that has really taken off! When Joe decided to help his native country of Haiti last Sunday, his congregation rallied around him and began to spread the word that he was headed to Haiti. His parents, both physicians, are delighted that he is coming and bringing help. Somehow we are all connecting with him, and we have 2 ortho OR suites set up and waiting in Leogane.....patients are there, the equipment has been flown in by the Canadian sector(unknown if army, or who exactly) and they are waiting for us to be there to serve that community. When we arrive in NY tonight, we will be met by 2 anesthesiologists, 2 ortho surgeons, a neonatologist,er doc, and 1 or 2 more nurses....I cant believe how our little group is growing!! I believe our primary destination is Hopital Comejo in Leogene, but we will be ready for anything, as our enthusiasm and hopeful attitudes are spurring each other on.
We have over 75 boxes of equipment, and we are all related in some way, like the Kevin bacon theory of life.
I am still a bit frightened, hoping my body will be up to the task, but the little voice inside me is so reassuring, and I think I will be able to raise to whatever occasion is there for us.
God works in miraculous ways.

Love,
Lee

Day Two: The Calling

I am in an all day training and missed my mom's call by one minute. She called to let us know that she is in the Dominican Republic and that all 120 boxes of supplies along with her team, will be transferred to Port-Au-Prince by a chartered jet. The initial plan of crossing the border via ground was vetoed after reports of increased looting at the border reached the ears of her team. The tone of her voice mirrors mine when I push emotions into the back seat and push leadership and business into the driver's seat. She is fine and is going to fulfill her calling, no matter what wrenches are thrown into her comfort zone.

I felt so hopeful when I read NPR and BBC stories regarding the level of peace and comradeship between Haiti and the Dominican Republic since the 7.0. These two countries have historically experienced hardship and their relationship with one another has been brutal at best. Mom's leaving for Haiti has lit a candle of hope in my heart that the world would be supportive of Haiti's restoration and would recognize the needs and values of the people. Mom's reports of looting are a cold breeze on this meager flame. However, if the looting is taking place by Haitians, there is no blame or resentment in my heart. Only the somber realization that no matter how much aide currently flows onto its soil, the people of Haiti remain in dire straits.

A quick and easy view of Mom's intended journeys for the day is posted on this link, which also shares the account of a journalist's journey from the Dominican Republic to Port-Au-Prince:


http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8467868.stm

Day One: Crossroads/Legba

Today, I write as I stand at the crossroads of fear and awe. On the other side of the mirror, I imagine my mother is doing the same. Our fears are both synonymous of one another's and simultaneously independent of each other. I can not speak for her. I can speak my heart, my fantasy of reality, and my beliefs, but I can only share her facts; her geography, her known possessions. Today, her dreams of changing the world during a time of crisis are becoming actualized, the glow that she was born with inside her heart is being taken out and is now a torch lighting the world around her. Today, my dreams of the most marginalized and heroic place in the world becoming recognized, and loved by imperialism for who it is, as it is, have been activated. I'd like to think that I partly led my mother to her actualazation of her dream and I can say for certain that she has activated the dream that I have quietly fed in the dark recesses of my spirit.

When Haiti was struck by a 7.0 magnitute earthquake on January 12, 2010, my heart froze and sunk to the bottom of my guts. Haiti has, time and time again, been ravaged by natural and imperialist disaster. History has shown that colonialism's big bully brother, imperialism, profits from Haiti's suffering and that most people in the first world blame Haiti for the shortcomings that imperialism has fostered. Haiti, as the first country to successfully win independence through slave revolt, has fashioned itself as a nation determined to succeed with an intact identity separate from slaveholders who tried through force, sanctions and withdrawn support to squelch any self-reliance or national pride. In my opinion, imperialist nations are jealous and threatened. The recent quake at its subsequent aftershocks, which one week later persist with the magnitude of a full force quake, has called the global community into action. This is typical. Global support is motivated by self interest, an opportunity to develop and control, just ask the International Monetary Fund, who likes to swoop in to save the day and then enters the scene when the media leaves to implant humanitarian and ecological time bombs in the name of financial gain. I am afraid of actions taken by people from imperialist privelege in the name of "helping" or "fixing" "third-world" nations. This is partly why I have not visited Haiti in person. I have not found the venue to do so in which I would feel like a human and not a martyr or a voyeur. However, this particular earthquake, in the epicenter of an urban city that houses familyless children, single mothers, and poor and wealthy alike, people's lives were devasted and in need of outside support.

My mother is a nurse from Colorado who has always dreamed of being a part of a healthcare experience where her expertise is needed and makes a difference. She has worked with self-inflicted gunshot wounds, parapalegics, nursing mothers, and swine flu infected fathers. She raised two children and is the grandmother of a perfect baby girl. My continual passion for Haiti was never that intriguing to my mother. But for years, she has known it was there. The earthquake in Haiti awoke a sleeping beast in her and upon hearing about opportunities to provide health care to people in Haiti, she was propelled into action. Through what she might call Divine Intervention, my mother connected with godly Haitian people who invited her to join a caravan to a Haitian run clinic. Doubtless of her choice, she accepted this offer. I imagine that my mother's fear must partly derive from the media's historic image of an AIDS infested pit of violence. Dark skin unlike the pale sun kissed skin of peers must be slightly daunting. If not, she is unlike most american people. And yet, at the precipice of fear of the unknown and awe and understanding of the human need to live despite despair, she has chosen today to board a plane to pull people from the rubble. By doing so, I step away from my fear of perceived impartiality and toward the grace of the human spirit who prays for life five days until able-bodied souls who have left their families, jobs and comforts reach into the rubble and pull her out.