Nine months ago, I left Haiti mentally exhausted. It was a lot for me to adapt to so much change -- not just the change of moving to Haiti, with which I dealt surprisingly well, but to several staff changes and direction changes and major life changes. Never in my life had stress physically affected me. I'd always felt some mental strain when my brain was preoccupied with too much, but in Haiti I began getting regular tension headaches. I had so much to do that some mornings I felt like all I did was compile more and more to-do lists. I stopped spending time enjoying the company of volunteers in the evenings because all I could do was work on my 48-page job manual from my bed, where my head could rest against a pillow and I could snuggle Ina May incessantly.
Although I blubbered and cried at the staff/goodbye party we hosted shortly before I left, I was definitely ready to leave Haiti for a while. And though I did fly out on Saturday, June 14th, I was still tightly bound in many ways to the in-country happenings for several months after that.
Caroline, the wonderful, intelligent young woman I had trained, decided not to stay, and so Emily and Jenna took over In-Country Coordinator responsibilities for the summer. Unfortunately (but also, in a way, fortunately), Chikungunya virus hit the entire country and cleared out the volunteer schedule for the summer months, so that definitely minimized the workload for the remaining -- and also ill -- in-country staff. I, too, contracted the virus. It didn't hit me until a few days after I'd arrived home. Actually, it happened at such a weird time that I thought I was having a positive reaction to a TB test as well as an allergic reaction resulting in hives. In my foolishness, I went to my PCP who almost confined me to a hospital for two weeks... Anyone who hadn't heard of the disease first asked if I was joking, and then googled it. I wish I had been joking. It was miserable.
In July, Bobby and I moved to Boston. On the sweltering day we moved in, I was resigned to sitting in the stifling apartment while Bobby, his parents, and my family members carried everything we own up three sets of steps. Because of my Chikungunya, I was utterly useless. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
In September, I started my MPH at Boston University, where I am dual concentrating in Global Health and Maternal and Child Health. I can't say enough about how much I love the program. The design, the classes, the professors and my classmates are better than I ever knew when I applied. I am learning such practical skills and novel ways of thinking. The emphasis on collaboration is new to me, and I'm really loving it.
Bobby and I have brunch every two weeks with some good friends ("Brunch Club"), commiserate over our service industry jobs (well, he actually loves his), and laugh a ton. Since it was so excruciating to walk much last summer, I'm hoping we'll get to do much more outside in the coming months, as the city warms up. Maybe I'll get a bike. I'm trying to get back into exercise (seriously, Chik-V made walking and even stretching incredibly painful for months... and then the snowiest winter on record hit). I read a lot, mostly for my classes, but also for pleasure. When I was in Haiti, I couldn't stand to read books about the country because I was living it. Reading, for me, has always been a means of experiencing someone else's life. Now, I can't read enough Haiti books. I'm currently halfway through The Big Truck That Went By, by Jonathan Katz, a fascinating read about post-earthquake Port-Au-Prince from the POV of someone who was there.
I dream about Haiti every few weeks. Usually, I'm speaking Creole throughout the entire dream. More often than not, I'm (happily) crying and hugging the house staff -- Eliette, Solimène, Dieuny or David. I miss them dearly but phone calls are difficult because sound is fuzzy, service is always spotty, and calls often get dropped. By some miraculous feat of my (ordinarily terrible) memory, my Creole is as good as ever and I don't stumble a bit when speaking to the many Haitians I've met here in Boston.
In October, a recent MPH graduate, Leona Garber, took over as In-Country Director. Her orientation took several weeks, but she jumped right in and created a plan for the coming year. In the past couple of months, we have been in communication about my practicum. And, just two weeks ago, I received notification that I have been awarded a grant to go back to Haiti this summer. I'll be working on data collection for the mobile clinic as my primary focus, but I intend to help with some day-to-day tasks to give Leona and Emily a much-needed break.
And, for anyone who may have lost touch with MFH once I stopped begging you all to donate, check out the org's website or facebook page. They have grown substantially in so many ways. They have begun some new initiatives (a birth center in Cabestor), have gotten some well-deserved media exposure, and have posted more cute baby pictures than ever.
I know that I'll be returning to Haiti this time with a brand new skill set, a fresh perspective, and the desire to connect with people in a deeper, more meaningful way. I can't wait to drink Prestige, to salsa at Zenith disco, and to bay blag (tell jokes) with the staff. Ayiti, map vini!
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| Emily and me atop the prayer hill back in March 2014 |
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| Genette and Jenna |
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| Yvanèse and Philomène, both of whom have since delivered their sweet babies :) |
