Silva, Wilner and Kola

Stacy, Silva's mom, Silva and the prosthetic team.

Trapped under the rubble for two days while her mother stood by pleading for someone to help, listening the whole time to her 6 year old daughters’ fading cries, Silva was one of the thousands who lost a limb in the earthquake. She lives in a tented city. It’s where she lived before the quake and it’s where she lives now. Stacy and I met her while doing relief work back in April. She was supplied with crutches and learned how to manage pretty well considering the obstacle course that is Port-Au-Prince. Crutches are a little more challenging here, especially in a tented city. The ground is rubble (and there is a lot more of it now); rubble and cracks and pits and all kinds of crevices that make maneuvering difficult for those of us with both legs. While here this time, Stacy ran into an Israeli group set up at General Hospital, fitting people with prosthetic limbs. She remembered the little girl and asked if we could find her, would they get her fitted with a new leg. “Absolutely”, they said. Yesterday morning, we got in the pickup and headed over to the hospital, picked up two members of the prosthetic team and drove to the neighborhood we remembered seeing the girl. We did not know her name so it would have been an impossible mission if Stacy had not taken a photo of her with her iPhone. We showed the photo to a few people and we were led right to her. What are the odds of that? The 2 women told the little girl and her mother what could be done and they flew into their tent, quickly bathed (in a bucket outside their tent) and got into their best clothes. They were both in disbelief (so was I – that we actually found her). We drove them over to the hospital, she was examined and fitted and that was that. The biggest obstacle right now is that most of the prosthetic limbs that have been donated and shipped over from Israel are stuck in customs. What the @#*% is Customs gonna do with them! That’s Haiti; always a fight.

After the earthquake, there were hundreds of amputations performed on the street, in buildings and curbside. People were trapped and the only way for them to get free was amputation. During the first few days (weeks even), there was no anesthesia. There was some morphine but many amputations were done without sedation. One little 6 year old girl was trapped under a pile a rubble. Her leg could not be freed and to save her life her leg had to be amputated. The doctor tending to her was American. He was crying because he could not bring himself to do it. He could not fathom inflicting that kind of pain. But after a few minutes the little girl grabbed his arm, looked at him straight in the eyes and said in Creole, "it's okay, it's okay, just do it. I'll be all right". She was braced down, and without so much as a whimper from her, he did it. That's courage - on everybody's part.

Our plan was to spend the afternoon at Kola but we got consumed with the transfer of a head trauma patient from General to Medishare (The University of Miami Hospital). A 47 year old man, who was in a car accident, fractured his skull and needed to be moved to a hospital where they have a trauma center. But we actually had to sneak him out. The family had to drive him off the hospital grounds and then, when we were a few blocks away, we moved him on to our truck, braced his head and raced him over to the hospital. General wanted to keep him even though they are not equipped to care for him. An American doctor from General called us and told us what was going on. General charges, Medishare does not. Crazy, and it was pouring and thundering and lightening. Oh man! I was glad when that was over with. We’ll go to Kola tomorrow afternoon. In the morning we are heading up to the mountains where there is an orphanage that is out of food and all other supplies. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Getting ready for transfer

Our 47 year old head trauma patient

7 a.m. Friday morning, 8/20/10

To me it is 8 and I am a notorious early riser; always have been. I've been up since 5.

I just showed Ely how to floss. He saw me doing it and was fascinated (we do everything out in the open here – privacy does not exist). It’s interesting because back home it would be very difficult to get a 10 year old to floss. But because it is something he’s not exposed to, it becomes a novelty, a new fun thing that's cool to do. It’s the same with school. School is not available to most kids. It’s not free and very few Haitians can afford to send their children. It’s a huge problem – illiteracy. There are some missions that provide schooling but they charge. They feel the parents must be truly invested in their children’s education for them to be committed and take it seriously. I have mixed feelings about that because it eliminates most people. On the other hand, I understand where they are coming from.

Another interesting thing missions do is charge for medical care. They don’t charge a lot, but they charge. What they say happens if they don’t, is a person will come in for treatments that are not necessary OR they will come in for somebody else. They will state the complaints of a family member, pretending it’s them in the hopes of getting the right treatment. It never works out very well and once a few mistakes were made (without an exam it’s hard to come up with the right diagnosis), the doctors figured out what was going on and instituted a charge. It still happens but it happens less, they tell me. What do you think? Maybe it’s true, maybe it's not. There is a whole lot of preaching going on in Haiti. Remember The Way? I’ve seen groups of them here.

August 20, 2010

Wilner’s Place
Today was one of those days I will look back on with complete disbelief that it actually happened. It started out great. We packed up the car and headed up the mountain to bring supplies to an orphanage whose owner, Wilner, called LPaul and told him they were out of food and supplies. We rented a 4 wheel drive car that could make the 3 hour trip, 2 hours of it, off road (way off road). We packed food, formula, mosquito netting, some toys and a few other miscellaneous items.

I probably should have been tipped off about the drive when LPaul said our truck couldn’t do it. I thought our truck could anything! One question I kept asking myself; “would I have gone on this trek up the mountain if I had known how treacherous it was”? I’m sure I would have but I would have tried to find a vehicle like the U.N. has; the one it uses to drive all over Haiti.

The good news; we made the trip and we made it for one reason and one reason only, LPaul knows how to drive in any and every situation imaginable and some that are unimaginable. I’m including some photos but they don’t do justice showing just how impassable this path was in some places.



During the ride up you see abject poverty, the likes of which you cannot imagine. Most of the children have no shoes, clothes that are mere threads and the smallest child was carrying large baskets of water or food on his or her head. The mountain is very sparsely populated. I can't help but think how little it would take to make life better here. Does anybody know there is a tiny orphanage up in the mountains of Haiti where a handful of children depend on people like LPaul to drive 3 ½ hours to bring food so they can survive?


Wilner, the orphanage owner came with us for the ride. He spends most of his time there with his wife and 3 year old son. But he also spends time in town where he and his wife try to make a few dollars selling necklaces she makes (I’m bringing some home if anyone would like to buy one let me know). They also try to get assistance for the kids. I learned quite a bit from talking to him. He started this orphanage about 5 years ago in a downtown area near PAP. He was renting a parcel of land for $1500.00 a YEAR from a Haitian. The rent was being paid by an American who was ‘sponsoring’ him (for lack of a better word). The sponsor, as it turned out was not well intended and when Wilner would NOT fulfill his unreasonable requests, the funding stopped (I will share that story at another time). Wilner was going to abandon the orphanage when a pastor who had land up in the mountains, agreed to let him move the kids onto his property free of charge. Everything was actually working out fairly well until January 12th, when Haiti was rocked to its knees by a 7.0 magnitude earthquake . Just for the record, “fairly well” would be deplorable by our standards. But everything is relative and the fact remains living in these ‘orphanages’ (and I’ve already told you that is a very loose term here in Haiti) is usually better for these kids than living on the street. However, sometimes the street is not preferable but necessary. I was informed that if a child is not thriving (and I mean physically), if they are showing signs starvation, they will be sent out on the street where they will get more food. It is dangerous. There are all kinds of risks when living on the street (disease, violence, drugs, rape, trafficking), but they risk it in order not to starve to death. A small child might be sent out into the street to beg for food because their chance of getting food is that much better. Wilner has been struggling so much to keep his small group of kids fed, he has considered sending them back out into the street. What sounds incredulous to us, is part of life in Haiti. I guess I struggle with the fact that Haiti is so close to the United States, it seems outrageous that more cannot be done to help these kids

We bring the kids some simple entertainment. Who doesn't love bubbles!

We finally arrive at the tiny compound where a few children were sitting under a makeshift canopy for shade. Sitting and chatting just like our kids do but without one single luxury; no electricity, no bathroom, no running water, nothing, but they were happy. Wilner showed me around, including the tiny room where he and his wife and child, sleep. The other children sleep outside. For water, the kids make the long hike down a steep hill with buckets. We took a walk down to the river and as we started out Wilner’s 3 year old son was following us. Wilner sent him back. A few minutes later I look back and see one of the young boys running down the hill with Wilner’s son on his back. I obviously looked very worried but he assured me “these kids run up and down this hill so many times a day with heavy buckets in their hands, they can handle it”.


Budding artists!

We stayed for a little while, handed out some snacks, dropped off the food and supplies and head out. It is not a trip you want to make in the dark! As we are driving, we have to stop and help a truck that is stuck on the road. It’s a miracle we only had to do that once. I imagine a lot of people get stuck and there is no doubt, a lot of people fall off the cliff. We had a nice ride back, stopping for a minute to eat some food we brought with us. We make a quick stop at Fort Jacques and look at the cannons; one of the few “tourist” attractions in Haiti. But as we get into town, into the crowded streets of Petionville, we lose or brakes. The car will not stop and we are heading right into a truck. LP masterfully figures out in a millisecond how NOT to get us killed. I do not know how he did it. We side swiped a van and two cars. Three women street-vendors jumped out of the way as we rode up on the sidewalk and over their merchandise. A motorcycle driver leaps from his bike, crashing onto the pavement. We swerve to avoid the unmanned bike, ultimately turn a corner and stop.

The crowd quickly gathers and LP gets out of the car and takes the crowd away from us. There were a lot of angry Haitians but when they came over to the car and confirmed that we really had no brakes, it was all handshakes and pats on the back as everyone realized Paul managed not to kill anyone – nothing short of a miracle.

All that might have been enough excitement but don’t forget, we are the local ambulance. We called Big Paul to come get us with the pickup AND the kid who jump off his bike. He hurt his leg and needed to be taken to Medishare. Into the back of the truck he goes and we’re off through grid lock traffic, to the hospital. Little did we know that a riot was brewing in downtown Cite Soliel over the ousting of Wyclef Jean from the presidential election. As we approach the hospital, a big truck filled with Haitians in green t-shirts, some with their faces covered yelling, “#@%& the police, we’re going up Delmas!” Delmas is the main drag that goes through most of the boroughs of PAP. The police were worried that if the rebels had access to that road they would gather more followers.

We honk for the guard to open the gate at Medishare to let us in. Our patient is unloaded from the pickup and we hang around a few minutes to wait for him to get an x-ray. While waiting a big supply truck is heading out the gate. Within minutes he is speeding back inside, a large crowd follows close behind, trying to escape the violence that just broke out. The guards are armed and think nothing of using their weapons. We run for cover and find ourselves hiding out in a back room of Medishare. Although it might seem safer to stay, I want to go back to our compound. And I’m not gonna lie, I was a little scared.

Eventually, the rioting dies down and we head back to our camp. I think about heading back home a day early but everyone assures me I will not have a problem flying out on Sunday and that I am safe. I have one more promise to keep while I’m here and I want to make good on it.

Kola Surprises Us With a Fashion Show

The promise I made was to Lorvelle, the woman who runs Kola. I promised her an infant seat for 4 month old Samuel, their new addition. Sounds simple enough, right? Not in Haiti. It took 3 days to find one. We had all but given up when Christina shouts out, “I see one…INFANT SEAT!!” We hang a big U turn, survive it, and buy it. Now we simply have to make the gridlock drive over to Kola and deliver it.

They were not expecting us and as soon as we knock and they slide open the gate, everyone disappears. We wait patiently while the kids seem to be hiding. In the meantime, I give Lorvelle the infant seat. She is over-the-moon, excited. Such a simple thing, but when you have 19 kids to watch, It’s nice to have a place to put an infant down that is soft, clean and safe.


One of the children brought Christine, Ralph and I, chairs to sit in the shade. Then, one by one they came down in the clothes that were donated by friends of mine and put on an outstanding fashion show. Photos are included. WOW! Wait for the video.

Christina showing the kids their beautiful photos.

The kids love Ralph.


I head home tomorrow. I will write my post script from the comfort of my air-conditioned home.
Rest assured everybody, the reason I came down here has been addressed. Enough said.
Thank you all for your support.
Love, Cory

A Letter From Wilner

Dear Miss Cory -

I understand very well your sentiment concerning my efforts in helping rescue the street orphans of Haiti. I really appreciate your words, you really encouragee me in this work.

The kids need somebody to talk for them because they cannot talk for themselves. There are so many children but nobody see's them. All the children are looking for is: a) a safe place to sleep, a place where they can grow with a peaceful mind, where nobody will hurt them. b) they're looking for a piece of bread everyday so they can survive another day and c) they are bare footed and need a pair of shoes. They need someone to insure their future, to prepare their future, because they themselves cannot think about their future they cannot really think about that, they think about today only they cannot think about large things, they only think about where they are going to find some food for today, where they are going to find something to drink for today.

I myself was a street kid, I was in their situation. God has rescued me from the street , so now I want to fight for a better future for the street children and especially the most vulnerable ones.

And I know God will create a day where these children will shine in the world, in this I will raise the children's porverty, and ask for the justice. If Haiti himself cannot bring Justice to those that are suffering - barely surviving, we need back up, outside help, from everywhere in the world, to come to Haiti and set a better plan to improve the children situation in Haiti.

My name is Wilner. I am from Haiti. Thank you for all your help.
Love and God Bless You.

Bringing Art To Kola

Little Mike making his first greeting card!

Ralph in the foreground, Christina in the back salvaging medical supplies.

I want to start this entry with a bit of BPaul's blog. Remember the supplies we rounded up the other day? Here is his take on me, the Diva:

" So, we're all working in the sweltering heat, I'm sweating so bad it looks like I've been rained on, Chrisitina is so dirty it looked like she was rolling around in the mud, and the Diva is so sweaty, dirty, and tired that she looks at me and says, "I'm a quarter century older than all of you, I'm taking a break!!!" That put a huge smile on my face because I was getting a little worried about her but thankfully she called it early enough before she got sick. So, the truck shows up, LP gets the guys in order and we start loading it up. The biggest finds we had were about 3 pallets of vitamins, 2 pallets of EMS gear, tons of adult diapers, LRD5, and a pallet of Doxi. It was a really hard day and we were all exhausted by the end of it."
But I’ll admit; no one was as exhausted as me! I can’t describe the heat. ‘Unrelenting’ is probably a good word.

Yesterday, we (Stacy, LPaul and Ralph) headed to Kola in what looked like a beautiful afternoon. But the skies opened up and we arrived in a torrential down pour. Fortunately LPaul had the tarp enclosures built; otherwise we would have all been standing in the rain. We were all able to stay dry and introduce the kids to a little arts and craft project. We made greeting cards. Don't worry, I'm going to bring them all back with me so if anyone is interested in buying one, they will be available. All proceeds will go right back to Kola to help them have a steady supply of food and help them move to a new location. The person who owns the little piece of property where Kola is located (it's about 30' X 100'), wants them out. We are working on finding them a new place to live. Kola is an orphanage located in Rue Route Frere, a small area in PAP. It was started by Lorvelle, a young Haitian woman and her mother, about a year ago. "We just love kids" she told me (Ralph translates). “Everything was going so well for us, now keeping these kids fed and clothed has become all but impossible”.

Lorvelle

Yolanda, the budding artist!

The kids LOVE Stacy's hair.
Making cards under the shelter LPaul built for the kids.

Get ready ro distrubute some donated goods.

Stacy and the newest addition to Kola, 4 month old Samuel. Samuels' father died in the earthquake and his mother died 1 month after his birth. His uncle dropped him off because he was unable to care for him.

As it stands now, these little orphanages are completely dependent on outside support for everything. There needs to be a trend toward self sufficiency. That’s the goal. It’s lofty but doable and absolutely essential. Stacy and I are going to focus on Kola. It’s small (about 20 kids); the kids are in relative good health. There are signs of malnutrition in some of them. Their diet consists mainly of rice and beans; no real substantial source of protein. Anyway, I’m attached to these kids. I spent a lot of time with them during my first trip and it makes sense to start with them.

Just for the record, this trip has been a little tougher for me. Maybe it’s the heat – so much hotter and no improvement with the bathing facilities. Maybe it’s seeing this relentless suffering with no end in sight. I don’t know but oh boy, it’s been rough.

I'm going to blog more but I MUST take a shower. I have to find a place to do that. UGH!

I’m pretty sure anyone who knows me is probably wondering how I even function in Haiti. I am somewhat of a princess and it is even incredulous to me that I manage here. But the truth is, I know, whatever the physical discomfort is, it’s a time limited experience. It’s temporary. I keep saying to myself “I can do this for a few more days” or “just another week”. That’s my strategy. I can put up with anything because I know the end is in sight. The Haitians don’t have that luxury. There is no end in sight for them. But the main reason I am able to function the way that I do is because Big and Little Paul enable me to. I get around PAP because they transport me around PAP. If they didn’t, I couldn’t. It’s as simple as that. To rent a car in PAP is prohibitively expensive and all the money I raised before I came here would be spent on that alone. The other form of local transportation is called a Tap Tap. Most Haitians get from point A to point B riding a Tap Tap. They are various modifications on beat up, broken down trucks and cars (I'll drop a photo in when I have a better connection). There is no end to the variations. The come big and small, dirty and dirtier and they get their name from the way you hale it down; you tap on the side of it. The Tap Tap slows down (a little) and you jump on and try to find a place to sit or stand or even hang of the back or side – there are no laws that restrict the number of passengers that can ride in one. I’ve seen people hang off the roof! I don’t do that. I have the luxury of being chauffeured around in the broken down old pick-up that belongs to MMRC. I love it and I’m very grateful.

Tap Tap

My Arrival

Ralph signs his "exit" papers! It's a start.

My Haitian Home

Business as usual

Ely Lubin

Thousands of medical supplies sitting under a tent

A plie of medication abandon in a field

The second time you do something people think is crazy, the reaction you get is completely different from the first time, even if the first time proved positive. But I’m going to wager, any change of direction, any new venture would yield a similar response. Change is hard for everyone, even me.

Port-Au-Prince (PAP) is unchanged but the airport was much less chaotic. Hot, but less crowded, the carousel for the luggage was working and I was even able to find one of my bags all by myself. The other bag, I let someone else find. I didn’t want to start this trip out drenched from the heat. The airport is not air-conditioned, the roof is medal and it’s like an oven – it is sweltering. But my flight arrived early and Little Paul, Ralph and Christina were all there waiting for me. Little did I know Big Paul was actually out on the tarmac medi-vacing a 9 year old girl to a hospital in Boston. She was burned over 50% of her body; while sleeping in her tent, it caught fire, and a can of gasoline fell on her.

Over the past 4 months, The Paul’s have turned the garage they live in into a warehouse. It’s filled to the brim with medical supplies and canned food. Every day is a mixture of finding supplies, getting them where they are needed most, providing PAP with its ambulance service, providing medical aid and caring for a handful of orphanages. They are assisted by Junior and Forrest, 2 Haitians who are working their asses off for MMRC, Big and Little Paul’s NGO. What’s different about the work from my last visit is that the frenetic nature of everything has diminished. It’s understandable. Eventually, there is an acceptance that ‘things are worse, it’s the way it is and we’ll make the best of it.’ The streets are lined with people making food, selling garbage. Everything and anything becomes an opportunity to try and make a few pennies (gourdes). Even while they sit in a chair or on the ground of their makeshift stores, their hand goes out and they beg for money when you drive by. Kids and old weather-beaten, emaciated women come up to your window. As much as you would love to hand them money, it’s a mistake. Within seconds, a huge crowd surrounds your car and nothing good can come of it. I made that mistake once, I won’t do it again (not without an even bigger entourage). But sometimes I’ll hand out food or a drink through the window. They’re happy with that.

As soon as I got back to home base, I had Ralph sign his G-28 form. He was all smiles. He’s well on his way to getting back into the United States. I asked him if he will miss Haiti. He showed me the tiniest little space between his fingers, “maybe this much, he said, “but there is nothing here for me. I’ll never be anything if I can’t get out of here.” He meant it and he’s right. Where’s the opportunity if you can’t go to school and you’re not free to travel someplace where you can. Ralph is getting back to the U. S. I’m committed to that.

My Phone:

When I got off the plane my phone was working perfectly. Within an hour, I stopped getting email. I called Verizon and they got it going for me again. Then - nothing, no signal, nothing. I’m gonna be honest, my phone has become an appendage. I’m lost without it and that feeling is even more pronounced here in Haiti. I need to know I can talk to someone back home at anytime. How do you make a phone call to Verizon and tell them your phone’s not working if your phones not working? You borrow a Satellite phone, climb to the top of a tall building on a skimpy medal ladder and make the call. Satellite phones do not hold connections well, especially in the bad weather. Oh brother! Not to worry, Verizon got it going. They are the best. We have a very special relationship.

A New Kid on the Block:

We have a new kid with us, ten year old Ely Lubin. His mother and sister live in a small tent in a very bad, extraordinarily poor neighborhood called Cité Soleil. He was wondering around PAP when he ran into the The Paul’s. He asked if they could find an orphanage for him to live in but they decided, for now, he can live with them. He’s getting fed and he is even getting an education. One of the workers is helping him learn to read and do simple math problems. He helps out and we give him a little bit of money. When he gets his little bit of money, he brings it some home to his mom and sister and then he takes some to his friends who live on the streets and are starving. He is a very kind hearted child and he is very attentive to everyone around him. He is one of the thousands of beautiful Haitian children whose difficult lives were made so much more difficult by this earthquake. When you meet these kids, all you want to do is take them back home with you. I understand it’s not the solution to this vast problem, but the desire is there.

Most people know why I’m here this time. While Stacy and I are working on that specific problem, we are also doing all the other things that fill the days of a relief worker; helping the sick and injured and finding and delivering supplies to where they are needed most. We hit the jackpot today with supplies but I’m telling you, IT WAS HOT HOT HOT! Even I had to sit down. We also had a situation with a 20 year old boy who has some type of growth in his leg. It could be an infection (osteomyelitis), it could be a cyst (I know it’s not) or it could be an osteosarcoma (just between you and me – that’s what it is) A CT scan would probably tell us what’s going on but there are not too many scanners in Haiti and if you want a CT scan, it’s going to cost you $350.00 U.S. dollars and Haitians just don’t have that kind money. One of the medical directors thought if we could get a biopsy and prove he has an osteosarcoma, we could get him transferred to the states where there is sophisticated treatment and his leg could be spared. There’s no one in Haiti to do it right now so I suggested we have an orthopedist back home, talk someone through the procedure. It would not be the first time. I found someone who agreed to do it. We’ll see if it comes to that. More likely than not, he will have to have his leg amputated. Stacy is doing fund raising and having the necessary meetings with the people and organizations in Haiti that can make things happen.

Haiti is hotter, the air is dirtier, the people are hungrier and there are not nearly as many relief workers to help out. I met an ID (infectious disease) doctor last night. She runs a TB clinic. At this point, she is “the last man standing”. Young and very committed, she has no plans to leave. And unless you are sitting where I am right now: on my cot, in my tent, in the heat and humidity, with a rat running around, mosquito’s swarming everywhere and no suitable place to shower; you can’t imagine what a commitment it is. I’m only here a week this time and I’m glad.

Megan,"The last man standing".
Megan's TB clinic