10/4/2021
As most of you know, the south of Haiti suffered a 7.2 Earthquake. I called my friends immediately to make sure they were okay, and they were. I’ve kept in contact with my dear friend/”sistah” Gladys (CEO of the Foundation for the Children of Haiti at usfch.org our hosting organization when we go down).
She surveyed the area and told me, “Susan, they have NOTHING! No food, clothes, shoes, never mind medications.”
As some of you know, I sent out an urgent request for food/clothes/money for her organization. With that money, they were able to purchase these necessities, including medications. Last Wednesday, they loaded a truck to send to the south. So, thank you to everyone who contributed!
While surveying the area, Gladys came up with a plan for medical clinics—“pop-up clinics” in remote areas around Les Cayes, where people weren’t able to receive the global aid sent. I called her last Friday (ten days ago!) and she said, “Okay, we are going October 3rd!”
“Can we wait until the end of October during my vacation?” I asked.
“No, because we have food waiting for them and they need it now.”
Duh. Getting people what they need ASAP is obviously a priority. So many hours of staring at my calendar in order to get my shifts, precepting, and clinic covered ensued! Then, the many hours of figuring out flights to Florida, Port-au-Prince and Les Cayes. When I saw that it would work, I called my (unofficially adopted) “son” Joel last Tuesday. “Hi, so I’m going to Haiti…and I’m leaving Saturday.”
I told him the whole story of Gladys, and how I’d been trying to figure it out. The whole time, just repeated, “uh huh, uh huh.” Finally, I asked, “Thoughts? Wanna come?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I won’t let you go to Haiti without me.” So, he spent hours/days reworking his schedule and by Friday, he was in. “By the way, you’re staying with me in Fort Lauderdale,” he told me. Later, he explained, “That’s what family does. They stay with family. Even if you are under a bridge, I stay with you there.”
On Tuesday, I called the pharmacist I usually work with, who was able to get everything in by Thursday. I bought pregnancy tests, urine dips, etc. on Amazon, which I received Thursday and Friday. I asked my premed student volunteers and a couple of friends to come to my place for a mini-packing party, arranged for dog care with Ted and Paula, packed most of my things Friday before my last shift that night, and then Liane and I were taken to the airport by super helper Ted. On Saturday, were off to Fort Lauderdale. The “extra comfort” seats on Jet Blue have so much room it was quite luxurious! We were picked up by Joel and ate dinner at a “crab boil” place—super good! Our flight on Sunday didn’t leave until 10:50 a.m., but we got there a little late.
When we tried to check in, they asked for my Covid test. Now, I thought I had read that they would accept a recent covid test OR documentation of Covid and a letter that I was cleared to travel (which I had). But alas, no. Liane and Joel got on the plane, while I ran downstairs with my six-dollar cart of things to the rapid covid testing place. They said it would be ready in fifteen minutes, but the line took a minute. Once done, I had fifteen minutes to get to the gate. I peed, ditched my suitcase, and used a paper grocery bag to hold some meds, HIV tests, Liane’s toiletry bag and shoes, and her pillow, hoping to take it on as a carry-on. I breezed through TSA, but a lady ran after me because I had dropped an HIV test pack. I “ran” to the gate and…it would have been SUCH a great story if I had made it. With only five minutes to go, the doors were closed.
I tried to negotiate (not my strong suit) with the lady. She wouldn’t look at me and keep saying “I can’t, I can’t.”
“I know it’s my responsibility for being late,” I said and finally, in desperation, “Pleeeeeeeease?!”
She looked at me and said “And I lose my job?!”
Thwarted! I took by paper bag of things, Liane’s pillow, and my backpack, and sat in the airport looking up flights. I decided that this would be a “project” not a problem and started figuring out my next move. I called Gladys, who was driving to the airport, apologetically explaining what happened. Lesson learned: Just get a covid test before traveling!
Gladys told me, “My pastor was just kidnapped, so this is the least stressful thing I’ve heard today.”
We both have the same attitude: Don’t dwell on the past; make it happen. So, I got to hang out with Joel’s wife, Rebecca, and 5- year-old Lynn. I bought some underwear at the nearest Macy’s, watched some Netflix, and woke up at 4 a.m. (east coast time) to make the 7a.m. Spirit flight to PAP. Gladys is going to check the Missionary Aviation Flights today and we are hoping there will be a space available for me because the flights to LesCayes on the original airlines are all full. I’m in the airport, with the paper bag of things now in one of Joel’s mini rollers. Liane’s huge bottle of shampoo was confiscated (yes, I’m ratting you out), but I have my backpack and her pillow!
Before checking in, they asked, “Do you have your Covid test?” “Yes!!!” Prayers and positive thoughts are welcome.
Later today…made it to Port au Prince! I must say, I paid an extra $26 dollars for the “comfort” seats on Spirit (which was already only like $120), and it was the most comfortable plane seat ever!!! We flew seamlessly to PAP while I ate my cut-up apples and cheese I brought from home as snacks. I read my book, went through the passport area without a problem, and also customs without a problem!!! (The last time I came to Haiti in 2019, they confiscated the bulk of our meds!) The airport in PAP is so nice – air conditioned, with a local band playing folk music as we entered and lots of “credentialed” porters coming to help with bags. “No merci, no merci,” I said nicely.
Finally, I got out and someone grabbed my bags. “No merci,” I say.
“Severe,” he says to calm me down.
“Oh, hi!” It was Severe, Gladys’ trusted driver, whom I’ve known ever since I met Gladys. I was looking for the young, tall, lanky guy I remembered, but he wasn’t so skinny anymore and had grown a gray, longish goatee that was sticking out below his mask.
A couple of porters acted like they were helping me as I was talking to Gladys on the phone and trying to get to the car. The porter shows me his “badge.” “Please, Miss, something for help.”
Oh man, I forgot to have tip money ready. I was trying to understand Gladys on the phone, and we left. He said “please” the way I had said please to the Jet Blue lady in Fort Lauderdale. Need to be more ready to give out tip money without taking out my wallet, I think to myself. They’re trying to work! I respect that.
We went to the smaller airport two minutes away, and I went to ask whether there were any cancelations on the flight to Les Calles. If not, I’d secure a flight for the next day. I will have to come back this afternoon for standby. So, now I’m at this new, swanky hotel across the street from the airport, what some of my friends and I call “the bubble,” being away from the hardships of the city and just relaxing. I’m here drinking my favorite passion fruit juice. I called my dear friend Dr. Gousse (she’s the medical director of Hospital Espoire, which is where I worked right after the first earthquake in 2010 and is run by the Foundation for the Children of Haiti (FEH). She’s gonna try to come visit me if she can get a driver. Keep you all posted! The Adventure continues! And by the way, Liane. Joel and Gladys are all safe in Les Calles, but they can’t do “clinic” because it’s raining too hard. Thank goodness for Whatsapp!