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Darwin, Australia • Santa Fe, New Mexico • Moreno Valley, California • Seattle, Washington • Cap Haitien, Haiti • Ha'apai, Tonga
Palestine, Day 3
I arrived in Tel Aviv after a long-way-around journey from Khartoum, via Frankfurt, on Saturday afternoon. I had to travel on 2 tickets, and 2 passports, due to the non-relationship diplomacy between Sudan and Israel. When I arrived, the wild sand and dust storm that has blanketed areas in Palestine and Lebanon and Syria with snow, created dust and sand “fog” so thick I could only see a few feet ahead of me. I tried to walk around Bethlehem, where I am teaching–but the wind was a shrieking cold cyclone that made anything other than staying safe and warm inside impossible. I did manage to get a taxi to Manger square, and visited The Church of the Nativity and the manger. Who knows if this is really the precise place where Jesus was born–but it feels, deeply, like a holy place. This is a distressing time to be in Palestine. …
Departing Khartoum
The week flew by here, and I am already checked in and preparing to depart this ancient city. There is a magic here–in the light, the dust, the fluid movement of sand and robes and breezes–that is seldom talked about where I come from. There isn’t a whole lot to do here, if one expects the kind of busy-ness we are accustomed to in many parts of the west. But I never tired of watching the sun rise and set here, because the colors that day fades in and out of are not colors I see elsewhere–they are softer, more muted, more gentle. Today a friend, Sue, who worked with my husband 20 years ago in Uganda, took my colleague and I to the old souks–we visited the bead markets and the place where many old baskets and carvings are available under piles of more touristy-oriented knick knacks. Some of …
Sudan Day 3 & 4
I am in Khartoum, Sudan now. This was a really long and not an easy trip. Too many long layovers—which must, I’ve decided,make a significant contribution to jet lag, as I normally don’t get jet lagged, and its been a tough adjustment. It might also be this land— Sudan feels, to me, like stepping into the arms of the ancient mother. I was here three years ago, in Khartoum and Darfur, and I was especially captivated by the sand in Darfur (which is here, also, but less visible due to development). The sand is the color of dawn and runs like silk through my hands. In these ancient places, it almost seems as if the sand has absorbed the memories of many millions of years of sunrises and sunsets, of stars in the sky, of footsteps and camel-steps and the advance and receding of older oceans. I have asked a …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 12, Trip 6
Last day in Haiti, and the final trip of this piece of work (developing staff support) that began very soon after the earthquake. Yesterday was “meant” to be a quiet last day spent with friends, in closure, taking care of things that needed tending to. Instead, chaos. Traffic–which feels terminally congested beyond any normal measure of congestion, since the onslaught of International Aid, was incomprehensibly immobilized. ANPIL ANPIL BLOKIS. Everything took 1-2 hours more than usual. And I had three stops, throughout the day, to close this work. When a friend promising transportation didn’t come through, when those who came through with rides were caught in the nightmarish “BLOKIS”, I was late for everything. And then, at the end of the day, my only way home was a ride in an insufficiently “up kept” car, with no defrost, barely functioning windshield wipers, driven by a lovely many who did not …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 10, Trip 6
Just came from Hotel Oluffson where RAM was warming up for their weekly Thursday night fet. Its very, very hopeful to hear that very familiar music again–music that carries Haiti’s root rhythms—in the very same place, same day, same time, as has happened for years. The NGO Staff Support Working Group that has been meeting monthly since January had requested that this months meeting be a self-care (practical) training. Today we spent a day at Management Sciences for Health, in a brand new, cool and comfortable conference room, where I provided this training. It was amazing–another splash of hope. We worked together (particularly MSH’s lovely HR Director, Joelle Larco) to make this workshop happen for as many psychologists, medical professionals, HR folks and others (who are over-extended, tired, and generally spent) as possible. I think it would be a boring read for me to review the workshop; its sufficient to …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 7, Trip 6
Have been in Cap Haitien to connect with my Lakou (community) and take a friend to Plan du Nord for the annual pilgrimage to honor Ogou. Plan du Nord is the site of mud baths in a river whose origin is in the mountains above Cap Haitien—I have heard the origin of the river is near the dwelling place of Ogou. This dwelling place sits below the Citdaelle, Haiti’s majestic fortress that was built between 1805 and 1820 to protect the newly liberated nation. I have visited Plan du Nord (google this for more information) each year since 2005, sometimes at a time other than the fet (festival) which takes place during the time of Ogou (St. Jacques) July 23-25 every year. It is always packed. This year, sadly, there were not nearly enough people as is usual, except at the actual baths–where it seemed more crowded and more difficult …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 4, Trip 6
Today we finished a three day “Psychological First Aid” (PFA) training with the Uramel Psychotrauma center. We is myself and Dr. Melissa Brymer of UCLA/NCTSN, a colleague and friend, who is one of the those who originally operationalized Psychological First Aid, a concept that originated in the forties (or fifties?). Melissa was one of the very first people to reach out to me after January 12th, and her support has been invaluable for my work here, and for my own heart. I began promoting the idea of this training shortly after the earthquake, to both Melissa and to my beloved colleagues at The Uramel Psychotrauma Center. Having first trained with Melissa, through NCTSN, many years ago, I knew the value of this work in the immediacy of a disaster. In the first three months after the earthquake, I provided over 350 individual PFA sessions and 20 something group sessions. It …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 8, Trip 5
As I write this blog I am also preparing to board my plane for the first leg of a three flight journey home. I have not written this trip, both because it was short, and also because internet was down most of the time. But there is another reason—the nature of this trip was quite different from others. I did not do much individual work with local people. When I returned to Haiti this time, there was a shift—a “quieting” is the only way I can describe it—amongst those I usually work with. Most of my work this time was programmatic; however, I arrived to find that while many Haitians were certainly still dealing with stress, trauma, loss and grief, they were quite busy in the remaking of their lives. The expatriate community, on the other hand—humanitarian workers, many of whom have been there since January—was unraveling. After a requested …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 2, Trip 5
The night I arrived, I dreamed the earth was moving–I kept waking up from a dream that felt like I was trapped in a square space that could not stop shaking. The night before I arrived I dreamed of many women dressed in white, wearing white moshwa, preparing for ceremony. Haiti feels different. I’ll write bluntly: there are way too many foreigners here. Once again, Haiti is being parceled out to various interests—some for profit; some not for profit, and I feel the trampling of sacred ground by 1000’s of hooves. Greedy hooves. Local friends are losing jobs to foreigners–“experts”, arriving to Haiti for the first time. Doctors closing practices and leaving the country because there is too much free medical care here. Reports that things are not improving, and the inevitable “WHY–there is so much money pouring in here?” Why? Because many of the people here weren’t invited, have …
Port au Prince, Haiti Day 12, Trip 4
I have just returned home and went to my favorite yoga class today. Our luminous teacher shared some words she woke up with, following a night of rich dreams: HOPE IS A HERO She went on to describe how all the tulips planted at her mesa-top home had survived a long day and night of fierce winds. Perhaps, she speculated, the petals gather in and relax–versus cling—and that is how they hold on. The image reminds me of Haiti — of her people. Of the communities still gathered to support one another to live outside, to live through the rains, to cook, sleep, protect their children. Kampe–stand up—Kenbe—hang on. Hang on with strength and grace. I remembered three more stories I’ll share in closing this trips blog. One of the woman I counseled on Wednesday described herself as having accepted the situation. After a month or so of fear, sadness, …