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.