Dominican Republic

     A group of us went to the Dominican Republic this week to renew our visas. Twelve hours in the car together one way is a fantastic way to get to know the people you live with even better. Wednesday and Friday were travelling days, and Thursday we had the chance to enjoy the place where we stayed. There is nothing like a day by the pool, Nook in hand to refresh this introvert. I have mentioned before how much I love the chance to sit and soak in beauty when I come across it. Well, Caribbean beaches and sunsets over the water provided plenty of opportunities Thursday. Yesterday we drove back to Haiti, stopping at a grocery store to get some treats on the way. I now have hummus, tortilla chips, salsa and pickles, and I could not be happier.

Conference

     I believe in the communion of saints. This weekend was our annual conference. It was filled with guest speakers, visitors and joy. Sunday morning was particularly poignant. Dawn found us at a baptism service. The sun broke over the mountains as hope songs were sung and brokenness and tears were shed. I believe in the communion of saints.
    I believe in the communion of saints. After a worship service brimming with music and gladness, we held communion. Or partook in the Eucharist. Or had the Lord's Supper. However you want to word it, the bread and wine were present. The invitation was given by the man who baptized the founder of our mission. The wine was given out by one of our pastors. The bread was given out by a pastor of passionate prayer, and men and women from all over this country ate and drank, remembering together body broken and blood poured out. I believe in the communion of saints.
   I believe in the communion of saints. We had people from Texas, North Carolina, Missouri, Mirebalais, Leogane, Lagonave and our own neighborhoods overflowing our benches and spilling into our yard. There was laughter and dancing, prayer and a remembering of the mighty works our God has done. The worship did not always look like what I am used to, but I think it was a foretaste of what "thy kingdom come" could mean. I believe in the communion of saints.

Missions Moment

     In recent weeks, I have inadvertently started running an unofficial kids program in the afternoons after I finish seeing patients. We color, and sing and laugh a lot. It is a lot of fun, although it significantly slows down the rate of my paperwork completion. Case in point- there was a half hour break between typing the above sentences as we divvied up coloring books and picture books, discussed the rules for their use and then discussed what we found in the books. We had conversations about vultures and bears and why you absolutely do not stick your fingers between the blades of a running fan.
    Sometimes I over romanticize these moments, caught up in the beauty and grace (or my perception of the poetry and grace) of them.  Last night was one of those times. We were having the opening session for our annual conference, and one of the little girls I have a particular soft spot for was sitting with me. During the worship time she wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me, as she sang along with the music. I was entranced by the beauty and sweetness of the moment, totally caught up in the grace of it. Then she stuck her fingers in her nose and wiped the residue on my arm and I spent the next hour and a half wishing for soap and water. Moment lost.
 

To Angelise's banana bread

      In looking back over my posts from the last few weeks, I fear I have given the impression that life down here right now is nothing but jumping precariously from crisis to crisis and wrestling through each day. There have been challenges lately and things have been hard, but that is not the whole story. There are wonderful things going on daily as well. One of those wonderful things is Angelise's banana bread. Angelise is the woman who keeps our guest house running day to day and she's amazing. One day I hope to have half the sense and spirit she does. I also hope to write more about her, if I can figure out how to do it well.
      Among other things, Angelise is a fabulous cook. Case in point, her banana bread. Sometimes she makes it in loaf form. Sometimes she makes it in muffin form. Sometimes when I get home it's cooling on the counter. Sometimes we keep it in our refrigerator (Yes, we have one. We are fancy.). In any form, it is one of the most delicious foods I have ever tasted. It is sweet, and moist and perfect on my tongue. I have an embarrassing tendency to squeal in delight when I find it in the kitchen. Yesterday I ate five pieces and then had to go hide in my room because I could. Not. Stop. This banana bread is in and of itself a compelling reason to come visit us in Haiti.

Chikungunya Update (again)

      Among the clinic challenges this week (not the least of which was figuring out how to deliver albuterol to an infant in respiratory distress in the mountains without overdosing her) was a resurgence in chikungunya pain. When was first researching chikungunya I was warned that for some people the pain could last for months. The research I found made it sound like that was a minority of patients, so I took comfort from that and bumped it down my list of worries in light of more pressing concerns.
      Apparently "can last for months" actually means "comes and goes without warning" and a minority means "most people in some form or another." This week a number of my friends and patients have come to me describing a return, and in some cases an increase, in chikungunya related pain. These are people who had the virus weeks ago, who are suddenly hurting again. A lot. They are also not reporting any real relief from the pain medicines I have at hand. Please keep my friends and patients in your prayers.

Smiles

This little pumpkin came to see me today in clinic at St. Etienne.

Just after taking this picture, she blew me kisses. Some clinic days are sweeter than others.

This one's for the mamas

     One of the very great pleasures of my job is watching moms interact with their little ones. From the new moms cradling brand new lives to the more experienced moms wrangling multiple children while waiting in line to be seen, I love seeing how these women love their children.
    As far as I can tell, mothering is hard, no matter where you live. Including Haiti. Day after day I meet women who became moms, often before they planned to or were ready, doing everything they can for their babies. There was the woman who became a mom at 19, teaching her two year old French, an early way to get a step up in this country. There was the mama of rambunctious twins, exhausted by 8 am and wrestling one child off the clinic shelves while explaining about the other child's illness.  All the activity did not stop her from demanding detailed answers about what was going on with her daughter, and why. Then there was the mom who, while waiting in line with her child, assisted one of our students with his little brother who was boiling hot with fever and crying from the pain in his feet (thank you chikungunya). Day after day I hear women in line, talking to each other about their children, what foods to feed them and how to care for them.
     These days I have women who come in and lecture me about why it is important to breastfeed their babies exclusively for the first six months of life, or how they are helping their children heal from infections. I delight in the creative ways these moms find to get their children the things they need to be healthy. Day after day I get to celebrate with women as I affirm the choices they are making for their babies. Here's to you mamas!