Crutches

Well it’s only appropriate to start this week’s stories off with one of my favorite things in life.  Those who know me especially well will appreciate this story that much more (Mom, Dad, Bro).  On Saturday Sue (75 year old lady I am living with in the guest house) offered to cook a gourmet meal of mac and cheese for us for lunch.  Of course I agreed and off she went to cook up our feast.  We settled down at the table, said grace, and famishly (yes I know that’s not a word Sara) began our meal.  Not ten minutes into our scrumptious lunch did I hear a high squeak and a whhhooomf.  I looked into the kitchen to find Noche (one of our two cats) had just made her meal as well.  Good thing Julie is not at all squeamish about mice and small critters (yah right!!!!).  And while eating…no problem.   Noche ran to join us in the dinning room to “eat” with us although I soon realized she wasn’t as interested in eating as she was in playing.  I did all I could to contain myself as I hear “squeak”…whooopf…..”squeak”….whooophf behind me as I’m ingesting my meal AND attempting to focus on our lunch-time conversation.   Noche, in parallel, is having a grand ol’ time catching and releasing el mousy.  I lasted about two minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore and put both feet up on the chair next to the one I was sitting in while constantly racking my brain on a mouse’s ability to climb up chairs.  I put Sue on guard duty.  She was to inform me of the where abouts of cat and mouse.  Regardless of where cat and mouse were she was supposed to tell me they were WAAAY behind me in the living room behind a couch.  That worked until Noche decided to bring “dinner” into the dinning room and more specifically under my chair.  All I can say is the amount of will power it took for me to not scream and run from the room probably could have solved world hunger. 

Tasting my mac and cheese was long gone as well as the feeling in both my legs from being elevated on the chair next to me.  This process continued (along with the leg numbness) until two mac and cheese noodles were left on my plate and I saw out of the corner of my eye the mouse scampering off down the driveway and Noche not far behind.  She came back empty handed…and I wanted to stand on the table and do a praise-the-Lord dance.  I didn’t.  Now I can’t decide if I hate cats more than I did before or less.  On one hand she DID get el mousy out of the house (more specifically the kitchen where I was to be washing the dishes soon) but she sure as shootin’ took her time.  A little less play, a lot more action kitty! 

The things I see on my site visits every day continue to boggle my mind day in and day out.  Of course the usual collapsed 5 story concrete building amongst hundreds of peoples houses in the city is getting to be the usuz’ as well as the 4-wheeling to get to sites.  But the beneficiaries we meet for each house is another story in itself and can range from someone who has (or atleast says they have) a pain in their foot (but are fully walking….and here you can typically call walking hiking) to the man in a crutch with one leg missing.  Let’s emphasis on that one.  I’m becoming convinced that the disabled here in Haiti could probably be equivalent to the standard American man or women and the fully abled here in Haiti are closer to our Olympic athletes.  No, I’m gonna go with stronger than our Olympic athletes.  The other day I was driving down the highway when I realized a young boy running on his crutches aside a car that was fishing through their purse to give him some money.  I still to this day have no idea how he collected his pity cash while crutch-running along. 

 Crutch story #2 goes like this.  Our last house we visited one day was owned by a man on crutches.  Best part, he owned the whole 4 stories but lived on the STOP story.  We in the good ol’ USA would say “no problem, he uses the elevator”.  We expats would laugh very very hard at that theory.   Don’t worry, story gets better.  After showing us the lowest level we all head for the stairs which turn out to be twisty and in several places only 3 inches wide with no railing and a shear drop off (mind you this is practically in the dark as there is no lighting in the hallway).  I gulp at the thought of MYSELF walking up them and remind myself to check each foot as I go up.  Crutch-man effortlessly starts up them.  When he’s half way up he gets a message on his cell phone.  Out comes the cell phone and he continues up the stairs reading a message I’m sure was much more important than paying attention to his crutch placement.  At the top last few stairs I see a little puppy in the house scampering about that he veers around all the while still checking his message.  As I’m reliving this experience through writing it I laugh at the thought process that goes through ones’ head when this situation arises.  First thought is feeling sorry and wanting to offer to help.  Second moment consists of being frozen in place and awestruck of the disabled person actions.  Third and final thought is the realization that this person is much more capable then you with 2 legs and 2 arms and maybe you should focus on helping yourself and not them.  As I’m scampering over obstacles to get to the job site some 50 hands come from all directions to help me, the female “blah” in tennis shoes (never mind that the beneficiary is in high heels).  I gladly take them all with not a shameful bone in my body. 

Well all good stories have to have a traumatic paragraph or two to keep the reader enthralled with the story.  Last Thursday and Friday will provide this section of today’s blog.  It appears I have a reason for last weeks’ randomness in my blog and that is because, unbeknownst to me, I was becoming deathly ill. Ok so maybe it was just a horrible two day flu bug but still!  Thursday morning found me upchucking out of both ends (sorry if that’s TMI) with a fever of 102 degrees.  Fevers of that level when you are lying in a room that’s 90-some degrees isn’t a whole lot of fun and advil became my new dear friend.  At least I was upstairs away from our entire staff and could bask in my own misery, right?  I soon found out not so much. Eklann, one of our cooks, was upstairs during my first upchucking session and raced downstairs to tell the entire staff.  Next thing I know staff members are coming up in stages to get the full report.  I soon found my business was everyone’s business and most everyone knew of my bowel movement as well as all other movement, fever, what I’d eaten, you name it moment by moment throughout the day.  Apparently this is the norm in Haiti.  I was in good hands and by the second day felt much better.   No idea what I had but one thing’s for sure.  I’m ok not having it again.  

A few more funny stories to shown the randomness of life in Haiti.  A few months ago Sue (75, 5’7”, white, female) had to have a physical done to fill out some paperwork to remain in country (we don’t need work visa’s here but basically same idea).  She really balked at the idea so Joseph (39 but looks 20, 5’0”, Haitian and as black as they come, male) offered to go in her place.  So he did.  Came back the next day from the doctors with all of Sue’s forms filled out and set to go.   Not two weeks later did another gal in our office (24, white, female, 5’8”) need to have the same physical.  Off went Joseph to the same doctor and came back once again with all forms completed.  The MCC office died laughing that day.  I did as well when was told the story.  

Famous advice from a Haitian: If you can see water in a pothole that’s a good thing because you know it has a bottom.  

As all stories end on a happy note I would like to tell you all that Kurt our MCC Haiti rep (the boss) is engaged and is to be married in two weeks to a wonderful Haitian women.  I’m excited for the wedding and all’s its’ festivities expect for one thing.  He bought a goat for the wedding feast and it stands bahing and grunting out in the backyard.  It’s really quite a helpless (and dumb) little animal and proceeds to wind and twist itself around the pole it’s tethered to until someone comes and rescues it.  Joseph, our book keeper, takes it for daily walks around the house and has taken dibs on being the one to kill it.  Eww.  When first it landed in our backyard I got all excited about our new pet and racked my brain for a lovely lil’ name for the obnoxious sucker.  Now that I know I will be eating it in two weeks I’ve decided it’s better for me mentally to keep as far distance as possible.  Hmmm I suppose I failed slightly at my happy ending.  

Crutch man's 4 story building

Section of Port au Prince

Can we say this failed?

Two men I've been working with this week.  Left is Doniel (Engineer Tech) and to the right is the mason.  Never got his name.

Ok well on a happier note I am headed to an engineers meeting tonight which should give me the opportunity to meet other local engineers.  Tomorrow there is a big drum festival in celebration of a famous Haitian drummer who just recently passed away.  I have also been informed that there is salsa dancing every Saturday from 5-8pm up in a good neighborhood of town.  I am dragging our new staff member along with me who confesses she doesn’t know how to dance at all.  Should be entertaining although maybe that’s not the best way to make friends with the staff?  Only one way to find out.