Sun City Picture House - Documenting Haiti

During our time in Port-au-Prince, Rachel and I met Raphael, a Haitian who was in charge of the cholera tents we worked at. He was soft spoken but you could tell he was a highly respected leader. As I posted earlier in this blog, a fellow volunteer, Bryn Mooser, has spent a lot of time in Haiti filming a documentary, 'Sun City Picture House'. What I didn't know until recently was that the main focus of the film would be Raphael. I hope that eventually the movie gets screened somewhere in Seattle or Portland but until then, here is the trailer.

Remaining Stories to Tell

I've awaken early this morning, realizing I still have much to tell about my Haiti experience despite the fact that I've returned to the States. I guess I've been putting off telling the story of my last full day in Haiti due to the fact that a.) I have no pictures to help illustrate what happened which will cause me to write much more in order to describe the experience and b.) it was such a strange day, it's taken me a bit of time to gather my thoughts and process what actually happened. I honestly warn anyone who reads it - it's not for the faint of heart and it is rather graphic (in a bloody, "Fight Club" slash "Saving Private Ryan" way). So with that being said, here are the events of last Thursday.

A Candlelight Burial

Today was more working with some kids at the Kay St. Germaine school and clinic that we are staying at but after work we hopped on the back of a flatbed, joined a caravan of other NPH vehicles and headed out to the middle of nowhere, about an hour outside of Port-au-Prince.

On the back of the flatbed, about 2o of us holding on for dear life. This was the least comfortable I'd been since arrival. Uncomfortable in the sense that we were a bunch of whites riding down crowded 'city' centers and everyone was pointing and staring. Plus, the new American volunteers were doing everything in their power to not fit in.

After an hour, we turned off onto a side road. There, we found Father Rick and the rest of the group. Father Rick started mass.

Joining us were three nuns from Mother Teresa's parish. Here, they knelt before the two bodies.

The site was something out of a movie. The mass in the foreground; the burning grass and garbage in the background. Know one knew why the fires started but it is believed that locals set the hills on fire in honor of the Earthquake anniversary.

The fiery hills behind our trucks.

Father Rick, Nurse Conan, and Italian doctor Cesaer take the bodies deeper into the fields to bury them. Joining us was a four piece band that played music during mass and the burial.

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After the vigil, we returned to basecamp where the mood was much more lively. The Italians made (honestly) the best pasta I've ever had. Over dinner and a few beers, I talked to a retired American doctor/professor who had worked in Guatemala many times who gave me ample advice for my trip next month. Along with talking to him, I briefly chatted with Cesaer and told him he was the 'most badass Italian I've ever met.' To that he thanked me and told me "Is ok... I'm flattered but it not mean much because most of time I don't even like Italians. Or Americans. Except you volunteers. I can hardly tolerate Germans sometimes." Like I said - a complete badass.

My Extreme, Attention Grabbing Intro

I thought I had gotten cholera. There. I got your attention. But seriously, this weekend up on the mountain of Kenscoff was a weird weekend, full of intense dreams and terrible bowel movements. At one point Saturday night, I was half laying on my bed and thinking of all the things I had yet to do with my life. I was sure cholera was going to end me. However, it turns out everyone else in our volunteer party was/is feeling the same way. And I don't have cholera. But I might lose 5 pounds purely from a poor digestive system. Oh Haiti...

Anyway, there hasn't been a bunch of new information to report. The days are becoming very similar and while I have been completely enjoying myself, there aren't too many interesting tidbits to share. Nor has there been too many new photos that are worth waiting 5 minutes to post (each picture takes about 4-5min to upload to to the blazing speed of Haitian internet). However, I picked a few random pictures that I thought might be enjoyable.

That is a box of chicken meat on a sidewalk. I call this a "Haitian Defrost."

A tattered flag on the antenna. Nearly every car or motorcycle has Haitian flags or stickers. They are very proud of where they come from.

It's hard to see but this biker saw that I was taking pictures and thought he'd show off his handless biking talents. Safety is a top priority here.

Produce section.

The main problem lately is that there are limited times that we are outside of an NPH facility and not in a truck. This has made picture taking difficult at times. Plus, half the time I'm in the truck with 7 other people and trying not to get carsick. However, in the next few days will provide some more interesting events happening that should provide for some more pictures. Tuesday night is a candlelight vigil with Father Rick at the mass graves of earthquake victims and then basically all of Wednesday will be different ceremonies and masses for the one year anniversary of the earthquake. Both days are in different parts of town that we have yet to see.

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I also hope by the end of the week, to write about NPH a bit more indepth, giving some information for those of you who are interested. Plus, that post will come with some more cute baby pictures. And who doesn't like cute babies?

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So the trip I was supposed to take last Friday Cite Soleil got cancelled/postponed due to the fact that I was to meet my friend Demanch (the water truck driver) and after waiting some 30 minutes, he never showed up to drive me. I'm sure he forgot or just was late. Haiti has many quirks about it and one of the biggest is time. When a Haitian says that he's going to be somewhere at a certain time, they're nearly always late. When they say they're leaving in 30 minutes, they are leaving in 5. 9:30pm is what has been referred to as "Haitian Midnight." Time is a very loose measurement down here, which has been both annoying for me as I'm a very scheduled/organized human being and good because it forces me to be a little more flexible.

Back Up the Mountain

Yesterday was another day of working with the OT and PT patients at the clinic. The evening was a belated Christmas/New Years celebration on the roof of the hospital across the street. Wine and cheese and meeting people.

I plan on writing more this afternoon but on the off chance that I don't get around to it, I thought I'd mention that we (Rachel, Fiona, Gina, and I) are heading back up to the NPH orphanage in the mountains this week. The plus of this: more pictures! The down side: no internet for a few days, so no blogging for a little bit.

Today is looking like a trip back out to Cite Soleil with the watering truck and the hope is that I get back by 1pm for a little blogging before we leave. I wouldn't get your hopes up.

Playing Catch in Haiti

Waking up this morning, I already knew that there wouldn't be much happening today. The kids at the school/hospital we're staying at are on break, cholera is slowing down, and we had no planned excursions to the slums of Port-au-Prince. Yet, like every other day here, today turned into something new and unexpected.

In the morning, I helped another volunteer, Fiona, work with some special needs kids who have learning disabilities. She's an occupational therapist from Ireland and is exceptional with kids. Despite the fact that I have zero training with OT, I was able to help her with one kid named Jefferson. Jefferson has been coming here and receiving help since last year, when Molly worked at the clinic. He is incredibly smart but he has a few leg issues (along the lines of polio or something) which hinders his ability to move around a whole lot. However, one thing Jefferson LOVES doing is playing catch with velcro tennis balls and the velcro pads. I entertained him and worked on his core strength for over an hour today. He is a really cute kid who I hope if I come down here again in a few years, is walking and able to move better than he does right now.

After lunch, I walked over and met with a potential University of Portland student, who may be receiving a scholarship that honors Molly Hightower (I'm sure Rachel's blog has/will explain more). The Haitian prospective student seems smart and should fit right in at UP.

The afternoon was spent with some of my favorite people here in Haiti: the abandoned babies at the hospital. As I've mentioned earlier, these kids were left for dead outside St. Damien's, many because they have birth defects, mental issues, or the parents just can't afford to take care of the kids anymore. Yet many of these kids are adorable. Rachel has fallen for one 10ish month old girl in particular, Sabienka. Despite the fact that she used some questionable handling tactics (Sabienka's balancing skills are not quite as strong as Rachel might have thought they were...), Rachel and Sabienka have gained a strong liking for each other the last few days and I think both will be sad when we leave (early Christmas present for Rachel, Mrs. and Mr. Prusynski? I'm sure a new Haitian baby is just what she needs).

Fiona, Rachel, and I decided that we'd go check out the cholera camps tonight to see if they needed any assistance. Upon arrival, we couldn't find hardly anyone in any of the 15+ tents. We finally stumbled across all the workers and a few patients - surrounding a TV, watching Barcelona and Athletic Bilbao play soccer. Quite an amazing site. Yes, this is a bunch of employees not working, but the fact that they have this much time on their hands is a very good sign that cholera is slowing down and nearly under control in this area. Let's hope it stays this way.

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Due to the fact that most of the facilities that I was working in today didn't allow cameras, there are now pictures to be had. Sad, I know. However, tomorrow should be a little more exciting. I will either take pictures of the OT stuff if I help there or the abandoned babies. There is also a rumor of an evening of cheese and wine on the hospital roof with the Italian doctors that are here treating the cholera. Goal: Meet and take a picture with the legendary Italian "Cesaer," who is basically the most badass looking doctor I've ever seen. He got stitches a few days ago and smokes like a chimney. We'll see how it goes.

Watering Cite Soleil

As promised, photos from today's excursion. I will say this: the struggle that Haitian people go through everyday is truly amazing. Just spending one day delivering water to families who don't have access to it any other way makes me appreciate the ability to walk from my couch to the kitchen, turn on the tap, and have essentially an endless supply of clean, drinkable water. Yet, despite their constant battle for this basic human right, Haitians manage to find joy in everyday. They are generally happy and friendly people. During my time, I have yet to feel unwelcome or unwanted. At the water truck today, we saw people in a situation that for any American would have been embarrassing to the point of anger or annoyance with a photographer's presence. But not here. Every Haitian today either approached me, wanting to be photographed or gladly allowed me to document their predicament. Today was an amazing, eye-opening experience that I only hope I am able to show through some of my photographs.

Here is Cite Soleil. This is litterally a river completely covered with garbage. There is water underneath that trash.

One of the many little kids that wanted to photographed. After this picture she walked off with a full 5 gallon bucket on top of her head. Intense strength.


The line formed quickly when they saw our truck pull up.

Slums.

Our rastafarian tour guide.

My token "feel the pain of this young boy" picture. You're welcome National Geographic.

Our bucket line down the street of Cite Soleil.

One of the many "Hey you!" kids.

Above what seems like a whole country of tent cities.

When there are no jobs, sometimes the best thing to do is nap under a tree.

Filling up the water trucks after delivering to the slums.

Kicking It In Cite Soleil

So tonight will be a multi-posting blog. Two presents for you all to enjoy! First, what happened in words.


The morning started with us heading over to mass at 7am. This is my 3rd mass so far on my trip and only the 6th mass of my life. I'm becoming more and more Catholic by the day (not really, no worries). The church is on the NPH campus, which is evident by the daily funerals for the cholera victims that take place during mass. Today is no exception.


After mass, Rachel hunts down a friend of a friend and we get set up for a day working on the water truck. NPH delivers water to the most needy areas around Port-au-Prince and, unlike other trucks, doesn't charge for the water. Our guide for the day is Dimanch, who is honestly one of the largest human beings I've ever seen in person. Muscles for days.


Dimanch and two of his friends stick us in the cab of the Mack semi and we head off to Cite Soleil. Cite Soleil was once considered the most dangerous slum in the entire world until 2007 when the United Nations moved in, forced the gangs out, and got the dangerous situation under control. After a crowded four person cab ride to the slums, we set up the truck in the middle of a shack area. Kids and women come running as if they knew we were coming, screaming and holding plastic buckets. A chorus of "hey you!" is shouted at Rachel and I, since we are the only white people in miles.

We take pictures and make many little friends as their mothers fill literally thousands of plastic buckets with water. We do this twice during the day which takes us over six hours and by 4pm Rachel has gotten tired and I'm sun burnt to a crisp.

The day has gone by quickly and all I want to do now is rest. However, we need to make a quick food run to the market (Quick trivia: What kind of store has armed guards with shotguns standing along the entrance gate? Haitian grocery stores). I am dying for some pizza and while that's not going to happen, Rachel and I grab some canned pasta sauce and noodles for dinner. The only reason I share this story is because we are joined for dinner by the most diverse group of people I've ever hung out with: an Argentinian, two Irish women, a Haitian, a Canadian nun, a French surgeon, a Dutch project manager, and us two Americans. If nothing else, this trip has shown me that the world comes together to do good things in times of need. We are drinking and talking and I'm about ready to sleep. During the last week, every night I feel like I never know what is store for the next day when I go to sleep. But I'm sure tomorrow will provide another plethora of entertaining events.

And Down the Mountain We Went...

This morning... oh this morning hurt. Last night started out wonderfully - a picnic with some of the other volunteers overlooking the valley, beer bought from what I think was a bar/ barber shop/ abandoned quake wreckage, and a good conversation about ghosts and voodoo. But this turned into Rachel and I drinking WAY too much gin and juice with our new friend Eddie. Hence the painful morning. We did manage to get up at 5:30am and hiked up to the top of the mountian (all uphill and about 2.5 miles) which gave us a pretty surreal view. After heading down to the orphanage, we took a nap and then caught a truck back to Port-au-Prince. I got a video of the bumpy truck ride but as I've come to find out, computers and internet in third world countries are a bit on the technological slow side. So no videos or pics tonight.

Upon arrival to Port-au-Prince, we strolled over to the abandoned babies room at the hospital to have some tea with the little girls. My favorite, Jonackson, was sleepy so it gave me time to hangout with the other kids that were left there. I definately improved my baby skills by rocking an upset infant to sleep (yes ladies. I cook too. And I'm single).

On the walk back to our main residence, we happened across Johnnie, Molly Hightower's Haitian man-friend. He is super nice and took us around part of the rest of NPH that we hadn't gotten to visit yet. He introduced us to some of his friends who are going to take us out to city in the morning. Should be an adventure.

Overall, I know I'm happy to be back to the city. A bit too much relaxation up on the mountain had started to lead to some boredom and too much gin.

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Sidenote: yes, I'm still taking my malaria pills. No, I'm not feeling too sick anymore. Yes, I'm still having crazy dreams. I attribute that to the voodoo down here. Yes, I miss pizza.

Doug's First Orphanage and Other Stories...

Greetings from the NPH orphanage in Kenscoff Haiti and Happy New Year! The interent (and electricity for that matter) has been sparce and hard to keep working. But the last 3 days have been amazingly relaxing and entertaining. After leaving Port-au-Prince, we traveled for nearly two hours up the mountain to the orphanage. The goat (see previous post) made the bumpy trip with us as well, in a less than living state. This did not please Rachel. I told her it was nothing more than sharing a truck ride with a meat market. We stopped halfway up the mountain at a market so we could stock up on New Years Eve snacks and drinks. While we forgot to take pictures of our purchase, a box of wine, 5 500ml bottles of rum, 2 beers, and some snacks cost us all of 15 american dollars. Woot cheapness! Above is the view from where we are staying. It overlooks the valley and is quite breathtaking. Its kind of like a mini resort on the campus of the orphange.

On the first day here, Rachel found her godson Kervenson (or as I like to call him 'Kermit' or 'Svenson'). He is really shy but every once in awhile he flashes a smile.

Rachel also hunted down Jeff, her parents godson. Kermit and Jeff (above left to right) really seemed to enjoy the gifts and warmed up to Rachel and I quickly. I wandered off and took in a soccer game. Soccer games are a regular happening and these kids are fantastic (you hear that Sounders FC? Come scout in Haiti...).

Above is the sloped dirt field that they use with the tarp goals that work really well. There are two other concrete fields that the kids use, for a total of three fields on the campus.

Joseph (above) is tiny but schooled me in a little keep away (video to come later). I called him 'Messi' but I think he thinks I'm calling him 'Thank You' everytime I see him.

Yesterday we went on a hike with Jeff and Kervenson up the mountain outside the gates. Both grew tired and weary with Rachel's enthusiasm (as did I) and we headed back down for some Cokes at the local ''bar.''

We have spent the majority of our time hiking, playing with the kids, and talking to the volunteers. I have grown attached to one kid who I hope to maybe sponser as a godparent if he doesn't already have one. We shall see. I know that the most difficult work is still ahead of us but so far I personally have found the last five days rewarding and eye-opening. I will leave you with a picture of the average Haitian - hardworking, resourceful, and friendly. Hope everyone is having an amazing New Year!

Lazy Thursday

Today feels like it has been a fairly lazy Thursday. But when one wakes up at 6am, 2pm feels late I suppose. After Mass this morning (at which I gave Father Rick the most awkward hug possible), we took a tour of the cholera clinic that NPH has organized to deal with the outbreak. When I had been told of the treatment center, I had pictured unorganized, foul tents that were just completely questionable. To my suprise, the center is really clean and the staff for the most part is very knowledgable and entertaining. We met Dr. Conan, a ginger Dr. Cox from Scrubs, and finished our quick tour.

The afternoon brought us an amazing lunch and fresh squeezed mango juice. Thus far, while I only really eat one meal a day, the food has been fantastic enough to hold me over for 24 hours. We are planning on taking a bus up to the NPH orphanage 2 hours away this evening but have yet to leave. Which, as I wrote this I just saw someone walk into our kitchen/dining area and walk out with two butcher knives, then the lady in charge of us (Gina) goes "Our bus up to the orphanage ia going to be delayed 15 minutes. We have to kill the goat."

So another volunteer, Fiona, and I ran outside to see the (slow) end to the little guy. But I'm betting he'll be fairly tasty tonight! That's all for now! Running to catch my bus and we'll be back down to town this Sunday. To the little orphanes I go!

Malaria Will be the End of Me

Arriving to the sunset in Miami, we took off a few hours later to arrive in Port-au-Prince, after a long battle with my malaria pills for the last three days. Always fun - taking pills to prevent you from being sick that make you sick. I don't get it. That is beside the point because we are here now. While I have yet to fully taste, see, and appreciate what this country has to offer, I am struck by just the extremes it has to offer. On one hand, I can promise I'll never seem more intense poverty the rest of my life. However, the beauty of the sunset and the ocean surroundings are just magnificent, pictures can't do them justice. The ride from the airport was intense. Like Paris, it boggles my mind that drivers in other countries can have so little regard for laws, pedestrians, or just general safety. I do marvel at their driving skills, which are far superior to any American's.

Rachel and I spent most of the day exploring the campus of NPH, playing with the abandoned children at the hospital. While I did get peed on, these kids are totally adorable and I kinda wanted to steal Jonackson Jean. I was in awe of my hands. And my Beanie Baby I brought him.

I was so jetlagged that I napped the rest of the day. I did mannage to wake up at 5, see a lizard run across the floor of the facility we're staying at, to which I just assumed I was hallucinating again from the malaria. I think the little guy was real though. I managed to get up in time to share a sunset and homemade Bailey's (made by a volunteering nun) with some of the other staff. I now look forward to a sweaty night, battling mosquitos and little lizards.

Sparknoted Version of "Cholera"

Until about a month ago, the only cholera that had been in my life was Love in the Time of Cholera, a boring Javier Bardem movie. Now, after planning this trek down to Haiti, cholera dominates my conversations that I have with people when explaining what my time in Port-au-Prince entails. Due to the many questions that people have had over what exactly I'll be dealing with, I figured I'd give a very brief and quick overview of cholera.

Cholera is a bacterial infection that attacks the small intestine and causes extreme vomiting and diarrhea. These symptoms can cause rapid dehydration and electrolyte imbalance. The important thing to note about cholera is that it is transmitted through contaminated water and food and not through being sneezed on by someone who is sick. The ways to prevent getting sick is sewage treatment, cleaning up sources of water, purifying water, and sterilization aka wash your hands often with tons of Germ-X.

Due to the aggressive nature of cholera, the best treatment is hydration, electrolytes and antibiotics. This can be done with oral rehydration therapy (a stronger medical version of Gatorade) and if this proves ineffective, intravenous fluids (IV).

Many of the patients that we will be assisting at the treatment center will have IV drips and some will even have a newer, more invasive form of IV that is drilled directly into the bone and administered straight into the bone marrow. It's intense but effective.

There is your lesson of the day. No need to worry too much about me or the fellow volunteers in the treatment center getting cholera. The center is well equipped and has surprising good numbers when it comes to survival rate of the patients they take in.

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A quick sidenote: I wanted to pass along an article that I was in. I'm a celebrity for all of one brief sentence.

Time For Me to Fly

With Christmas arriving in a few days and less than a week left before I leave for Haiti, my house is a strange mix of typhoid pills and frosted cookies. And while the trip is approaching fast, it really feels like I've got at least another month or so left for all the packing and preparing I still have left to do.

There is, however, finally some clear indication of what we will be doing during our 17 days in Port-au-Prince. Our time will be spent working with an organization called Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos (NPH). NPH has what they call their 'compound' that includes their hospital, therapy center, special needs school, an orphanage, and the cholera treatment center. Originally, the plan was to spend much of our time with the children of the orphanage. However, after the outbreak of cholera (longer post on this to come), we decided that we will be more useful if we assist with the care for the patients at NPH's cholera treatment center.

This means that many days will consist of waking up early, putting on some scrubs, and heading off to the cholera treatment center for the day to clean up after the real doctors, and assisting in anyway possible. On other days, we will also have some time to spend with the orphans at NPH, which should be rather awesome.

Upon arrival in Port-au-Prince Airport, NPH will have a representative picking us up and taking us straight to the 'compound.' Due to the current political environment, we will not be leaving the NPH campus unless accompanied by an experienced member of their staff. This is probably for the best, as the recent weeks have produced protests and riots over the highly controversial presidential elections. There may be some sketchy moments near where we are staying, but I don't anticipate being in the middle of a tear gas battle with UN officials unless I turn very radical in my views in the next three weeks.

The closer I get to leaving, the more the excitement grows. Until then, I will enjoy myself some eggnog and Christmas cookies to wash down the newly started regiment of malaria pills.

Merry Christmas to All!