Palm Inn Port-au-Prince

... ont exporté des docteurs ici pour quelques années. Le taux de chômage : 70%, que me dit Richard. Aïe! La fragilité des infrastructures, et la saison des ouragans qui s’en vient… La malnutrition omniprésente. Le trafic de drogue qui semble régner plus que la présidence du pays. L’analphabétisme. Qu’allons-nous apprendre encore?

Je sais que je ne sais pas ce que c’est qu’un pays pauvre. J’en n ...

... fait, dedans. Refuge vide.

Le soleil me tombe dru sur la tête, de très haut dans le ciel, il n’est que 10 heures du matin. Pas de brise. Premier point de service, petit coin à l’ombre d’un bâtiment désaffecté, digne de squatters, qui ferait certainement honneur aux meilleurs graffitistes de notre riche monde. Mais ici, ils n’ont même pas même la possibilité de se procurer les bombes aérosols…

Des mères chétives, des petits mal nourris, l ...

For those of you who don't know what I'm doing in Haiti, I'll give you a brief summary. I am doing an internship with dLOC (www.dloc.com) to digitize documents from L'Archives Nationales d"Haiti and a couple of other collections. None of this would be possible without Peace Studies, CIE, all the folks and dLOC, especially Brooke who has been arranging things with me since we met at HSA in November. Additionally, I could not spend as much time or feel as ...

... by. Last year I missed this whole ride. I had a bad sinus infection and all I could do was drift in and out as we bumped along. This year I am taking it all in. Trying to imprint it all on my mind and heart. It will be over a year before I can return since next year I plan on being in Australia this time of year. We arrive at the airport, and at first we all sit on the ground on the concrete porch where the light is. Sammie hands out ...

Blue helmets provided the backdrop for the light tank, an Argentine soldier manned the M-16, finger on the trigger. Tank, food truck, food truck, food truck, Tank. One million dollars worth of UN food aid rolled through the systemically poor town of Cabaret. We were only 20 miles north of Port-au-Prince and still somehow there is a lack of food in a church turned relief shelter. Marc and I stood amongst the pews crowded by a group of 20 children and a ...

... an avocado and only takes one bite...food waster. I'm staring at it on his plate drooling. After dinner five of us decide to walk up the mountain despite the fact that it just rained and it's almost dark. We have that adventurous spirit. We will not be stopped! It's crazy, muddy and rocky. We met Solange who is coming down. She says "go back, go back". Other Haitians stop and stare, they call us foolish whities ...

... the Jungle"). The men from Hospice were there with Missy (she works at Hospice House). They did a fantastic job of getting everyone away. We waited outside in the sun (HOT) for about 40 minutes. Unfortunately when Bill, Chris, and Dave came back they were only able to get one van. Apparently Hertz was not cooperative! Eight of us piled in the van with as much of the bags as ...

... soy religioso oblato porque veo necesidades en el mundo a las que puedo responder en comunidad según nuestro carisma. Los oblatos trabajamos preferentemente con "los más abandonados." Aunque yo sea "urbanito", siempre me he sentido muy llamado a trabajar en el campo y con los campesinos, que está muy abandonado en casi todos los países. Por otra parte, junto con muchos otros religiosos, los oblatos nos damos cuenta de la migración a los centros urbanos ...

... one volunteer. Our staff includes one nurse, three lab technicians, two pharmacists, one archivist, one bookeeper, and a director. The whole of the DISPENSAIRE is under the responsibility of Fr. Ellince Martyr, OMI. One of the doctors in town comes once a week to see some patients here. The consultation fee is 25 gourdes (about US $0.65 - according to www.xe.com/ucc/ universal currency converter, 1 USD = 38.1330 HTG) - and consultation is free for the ...

... of bent men shuffling along the dusty ground. We were here to encounter "Tough Stuff," as our jaunty yellow T-shirts proclaimed, but here in Haiti, our grins and jokes shriveled, withering away like a mango in the dry season. Mary, Julie and I gathered in the dim room where gloves and medicines were kept, listening to the nurse prep us for our afternoon with the sick women. "You must wear gloves," she said briskly, in her French accent, handing us a box of blue latex gloves ...