Chapter Nine: Degaje!

My heart has reached the point where it is so overwhelmed with experiences that words are hard to find.  It is not a bad place, but rather a quiet place for my thoughts to sink deep down into my heart as I reflect on what I’ve seen and learned, and also as I come to grips with the fact that I am leaving this beautiful place in less than three weeks. This has effectively slowed me in the process of sharing what I have been experiencing here in Haiti, but I wanted to honor you all for your investment into my life by sharing a little bit of what has been going on the last few weeks!  So, this post will be totally DEGAJE... a term that the missionaries here refer to often. It is the creole word for "making do with what you've got!" It's fitting, as I am just going to "make do" with the words and experiences that I do have to share.

We have had some busy days in the clinic, with some very interesting cases. Last week, a woman arrived on a moto and before we knew it, the waiting room looked like a crime scene.  She had been cleaning her house and dropped a machete on her foot, which severed some branches of her dorsal pedalis artery.  We prepped the OR for surgery and Dr. Jim worked with steady hands to tie it off.  Our patient was incredibly calm throughout this entire process, and what could have been a much worse situation actually resolved quite nicely!  It reinforced that I was definitely not in Canada anymore, Toto!

We also saw a baby that was born 5 weeks early en route to our clinic. When the mother sat down for Sally’s breastfeeding class, Sally realized that this baby desperately required special attention! He was grey, with a temperature of 91 degrees fahrenheit and an oxygen level of 48%. (I’m sure you don’t need medical training to know that this was NOT a good situation for baby.) Thankfully, Sally has extensive experience with neonates, and immediately assumed control of the situation, delegating Jenn to heat up towels and Ziploc bags full of rice in the microwave to get this baby warm! Talk about degaje! We started the baby on oxygen, and his level came up to 80% by the time Jenn transported them to MSF for more treatment.  When Jenn returned to MSF with another baby later that day, the report was that both baby and mom were doing well. Praise God!

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to join Sally at an English speaking church in Port, and to pick up 2 more HHM volunteers. It was so refreshing to be part of corporate worship in my own language! I also took the opportunity to try to get some photos, but I just can’t seem to capture on camera the heart of Haiti…

Sally bought some plants at the roadside for her garden, so naturally we had to stop to get some pots!

I loooove these paintings. They make the walls so vibrant!

….I think by now most of your have seen this picture on facebook, but just in case you haven’t, this is my temporary roommate who I gave an *ahem* pretty potent evacuation notice to. (But let’s be honest, I didn’t do anything at all. Garrett pretty much ran the show while Emily and I offered suggestions and some solid moral support while keeping our distance! He did get back at us in the end while we stood over the tarantula’s now lifeless body… he tentatively used the plank of wood that had been the execution tool to prod it and let out a yelp of terror like the tarantula was rising from spider hell all over again, sending Emily and I into a new fit of tarantula fueled screaming. ) I don’t think I could have asked for two better people to share this particular “first” with!!

And finally, if you refer back to “Chapter Three”, I posted a picture of the pharmacy in progress. This is what it looks like now! (And all this with a two week hiatus from construction!)

This is Tingue and Garrett, proudly showing off their handiwork! (or at least graciously because I kind of forced them to let me take this!)  Tingue has been a huge part of the construction ongoing at HHM. Garrett is Emily’s boyfriend, who came to visit and who tackled the big job of all those beautiful trusses! I think they have done a pretty amazing job, don’t you?! 

Also, great news, the x-ray machine returned to us today! Praise the Lord for answered prayers!

Though words are few right now, I can say this: I am enjoying myself. My heart is full. My faith is being stretched and stirred. My hands are being used. They are small things, and yet powerful, things I was forgetting and that God is restoring unto me. He is ever faithful. He is good. 

Chapter Eight: Out the Window

What a day! According to the ladies here, today was a classic Haiti day. We ventured into Port au Prince with a full schedule of things we had planned to accomplish. After a long week at the clinic, we were anticipating a nice reprieve as we made a day of getting groceries, going out for lunch, and picking up three more HHM volunteers from the airport! Yes, our hands were full of plans... until the moment right after our first stop, when the truck wouldn't start!

With the help of a kind stranger who helped us pop the clutch, we got the truck going, but not without some minor hitches: something called the glow-plug light was flashing, the A/C didn't work, the horn was the equivalent of a soft whisper on the noisy Haitian roads, and the power windows worked inch by slow inch.

Needless to say, we had to take those plans and throw them out of our wide open windows as we inched through the heavy traffic, dust hovering in the air, trying to get the truck to a dealership where it would be safe for the weekend. (We didn't make it - but we called reinforcements, and so we were able to get both the truck and our new volunteers back to HHM safely!

Driving through Port au Prince is an overload to the senses. The sights, the sounds, and the smells all seem to compete with another. There are so many people - men walking cows and shining shoes, women balancing baskets on their heads and washing their vegetables in the muddy water as they sell on the roadside, motos weaving in and out of traffic. Makeshift shacks constructed out of whatever resource was available offer shade from the hot sun, as goats scale garbage piles as high as my waist scrounging for a snack. This is a way of life. I am a stranger looking through the glass at the houses stacked on the hillsides.

Today, once again I find myself so frustrated by the constraints of language. This time, it's not because I can't speak the language of the Haitians, but because even in my own language, I am limited in trying to paint a picture for you who speak and understand the same language as I. Words seem so insufficient. They lack so much... or maybe it is I who lack the ability to string together the right words. How I long to find the words to truly express what I see... to have words to share my heart as we drove those streets.

I was reflecting on this tonight, and my mind wandered to this verse:

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" - 1 Corinthians 13:1

As I read this, I felt as if God was saying "LOVE is the language I have given you to speak. You are perfectly equipped, through me. Be not afraid. I have made you as a giver of love... so daughter, GIVE!"

I know from my short time here how important language is. I have been so humbled as I have been forced to rely on other people to help me communicate, as I have stumbled over words and sometimes even as I have used very wrong ones!
I love that God doesn't diminish language, but that His LOVE transcends language. And I see that as I employ my very basic creole in the clinic, as I ask people how they are when I take their vital signs and their faces light up as they respond. I see it in a woman's bashful reaction when I tell her that her dress is pretty, or that her baby is beautiful. Sometimes, all it takes is a smile! My interactions with these Haitians has been limited by language, and yet God shows Himself in little, seemingly insignificant moments, through significant love.

Because can you really beat ending a post with an adorable brand new baby goat? The correct answer is no. It can't be done.