Haiti

Internet has been spotty and time is seeping away. This is a very busy trip as I am both counseling and setting up a longer term staff support program, which means hiring, training, preparing people. Today I rested for a few hours in the mountains, at a friends home. The cleanliness, silence and beauty was a dramatic contrast to Port au Prince. It is easy for me to forget how lovely Haiti is when I am spending so much time in the destruction. We spent a small part of the afternoon looking for tiny little frogs that live in the highlands and make a shrill sound, like the high pitches of a xylophone. No luck today. Two evenings ago we celebrated a friends birthday–a young birthday. She is not yet 30. Most of her family was killed in the earthquake. She lost the center of her life, and has struggled …

There are so many small moments that become the threads of hope, healing, and others that contain traces of grief, fear. When I first drove up to the office, the groundskeeper happened to be right there. His face became a burst of light as he walked up to me and took both my hands and said “Oh–you’re here. You came back.” He held my hands and my gaze as he recounted how many times he sat in the office and smelled an oil, or prayed, or reflected on something. And felt quiet, calm and safe. He has moved back into a structure to sleep. His one living child has a protected place to be during the day and his school will re-open soon. He sleeps. He showed me the tiny bottle of oil, still in his pocket, still a vial of hope. One of my clinical colleagues has begun using …

The trip in was easier—every flight landed early every transition smooth. I sat beside two women who were returning to their birthplace for the first time since the earthquake. Both praised God when we landed at the busy, busy airport safely, and both cried as we wound our way through the new airport, looking through large glass windows at the old, cracked, sad looking international airport. I waited in the hot sun for an hour for my ride. The traffic is thicker than I have ever seen. Its impossible to get a car near the arrival area. The driver rushed up, apologetic. He had been in traffic for over 2 hours (it can be as brief as a 30 minute drive from the office to the airport. The roads seem thinner, because the rubble has been gathered in, waiting to be removed. Higher piles beside the road, neat and organized. …

Returning home, this time for a few weeks, I prepare to be in a place where homes still stand, where the air is fresh and clean, where driving to the store and stocking up on favorite snacks is not a luxury or a privilege, but just another task in a busy day. The morning I flew to Haiti, news reporters were swarming American Airlines check in counter, interviewing Haitians flying on the first commercial flight to Port au Prince since the earthquake. When I rushed up, my clothes crooked and hair uncombed because I had dressed so quickly when I learned my original flight was leaving 2 hours early, I was relieved to find a seat on the second flight and was signing the credit card receipt when one of the reporters yelled “Hey, thats woman’s buying a one way ticket!” Suddenly there was a glare of many cameras on …

Today has been stressful. I was to be picked up early and transported to Jacmel, via Leogane, with a “VIP” team (CEO’s) visiting the projects. Because the driver forgot to pick me up and because the “VIP” team would not wait 10 minutes for me to catch up, I missed my ride—and arrived 1.5 hours late for two days of intensive counseling—group and individual — in very hard hit areas. The domino effect meant that there were many people expecting group or individual time with me, who never got it. I learned that the “VIP” team actually got mad they had to wait for me—-I wonder if they have any idea how long people who lived the horrors of January 12 have waited for someone to come and listen to them, counsel them, care? I question any CEO’s leadership if they no longer have the insight to appreciate the importance …

A quiet night, thank goodness. I slept at a friends home in heavily damaged Pacot –her small 2 bedroom apartment is home for 8 people, and the streets are cramped with families living in makeshift tents. The night was noisy, smelly and heavy. It felt strange in an uncomfortable way to walk out of a safe (or not, if you are one of the many people who cannot yet sleep indoors due to elevated stress and fear levels) dry apartment building and see tiny children laying asleep on thin plastic sheets right on the asphalt street. More difficult stories.A man who was finishing work, a 5 minute drive, and had to run (20 minutes) to his lakou where his entire family lived in a quadrant—three houses collapsed, one on top of his son, one on top of his mother, the other on top of his sister. All yelling for help. …

My bones are beginning to get it. Last night an earthquake, 4.7 again but felt stronger (rumors are 4.9) really shook the house. At 1:35 am I was sound, sound asleep. I felt like I was some small ingredient in a frying pan being tossed or flipped–like a pancake, but many times, rapidly. I ran to the door and my friends appeared to be calm in the tent so I sat with the nannies by the wide open door. When I went back to bed, it shook again, not as strong, but enough to get me out of bed, again. I slept a few hours at the foot of the nannies bed so we could all be together, listening to one of  them try to call her little girl who was sleeping downtown, camped outside, with other family. She couldn’t call out and every time the phone ring, the call …

Woke up to a 4.7 earthquake at 4:30’ish this morning–I managed to fall back asleep shortly afterwards, as the persistence of the 4 walls around me and the ceiling above to remain walls and ceiling convinced me nothing would fall on me. I also really, really needed the sleep. I’m tired. There were several aftershocks and its been so painful to see distress levels elevate–several people ran to me after a particularly strong aftershock, pale, sweating, teary-eyed, terrified. We centered, using somatic psychology methods and supplies I am blessed to have because I live in an amazing, awake, caring and generous community (Thank you Santa Fe). Everything became an anchor today: post trauma stabilizer donated by The Flower Essence Society and arranged by my bestest friend Karen Brown, rescue remedy donated by Dr May Ting of Santa Fe, and lavender oils crafted by Christa Obuchoswki of Aroma Botanica. There was …

Today was a “day off” (whatever that means in this situation) and I spent it with dear friends who have just returned home after evacuating their children to schools elsewhere. I had planned to sleep a little longer than unusual, but awoke to the lovely sound of early morning rain…and as I began my habitual “snuggling” deeper into the comfort of my bed, I suddenly remembered where I was. Rain! Shit. Its pouring. I ran downstairs, crying, because I know many people sleeping on the streets, comforting children on the streets, every formerly open space in this city a sea of makeshift tents with little to no protection against the elements. I ask the my friends nanny if the rain is everywhere, crying, I ask what is everyone going to do in this rain? She replies that she has already called down to her children who live in a tent …

Its been a long day. When the word got out that I had returned I had non-stop sessions. People describe a weariness, a plateau of sorts, as they feel a bit more stability and yet continue to be surrounded by a city fallen down. “I go on because I must but its not easy.” Men, Women, children–all exhausted. How long can so many people remain exhausted and continue to clean up their home and try to rebuild their lives? The groundskeeper returned today and described a very long night because he felt the earth moving most of the night. At times he could not discern if the earth moved, or the memory of the earthquake “moved in his body.” Many people describe feeling the earth trembling and knowing that its not–that its inside their bodies. Dizziness accompanies this sensation. Back to the groundskeeper–he was again unable to sleep and this …