The wonders of a hot shower

Written by Naomi Shields:

Susan and I have made it to Miami. The trip from Pierre Payen this morning to PAP was in the open back of the truck. Our white t-shirts were gray when we arrive in PAP. We passed a funeral enroute, a musician at the front, followed by woman and men wearing white. Bananas were stacked by the road. Water runs in an open channel along the roadway. People dip buckets in the channel, others bathe. Multiple refuge camps exist. Some with nice tents, others with cardboard walls built on sticks. The road is better north of PAP. As we approached PAP, the pot holes became navigational hazards. There is a large crack running down the center of the road, presumably from the earthquake. Compared to Vietnam, there are very few scooters and pedal bicycles. I wonder if you either have enough money to buy a vehicle (and trust me, in the US many of these would not pass any inspection!) or you walk or take a tap tap, not having the resources to buy a scooter or bicycle. There are some horses and donkeys. After 2 hours, we entered the chaos of north PAP. We dropped everyone else off the the long line at the "departure terminal" and then went with Steve, Stephenson, and Cenofa (the missionary and 2 young Haitian men who have been invaluable this week) to wait at the "gas station". We sat in a clean airconditioned convenience store that could have been in the US, except 75% of the shelves were empty. They did have cold water, gatorade, fruit juices and Coke/Sprite. We sat there waiting and watching the flight line trying to guess which plane might be the private plane bringing in Dr. Ric Bonnell, the organizer of the whole project, and a young woman who was injured the day of the earthquake, airevaced to the US and returning to Haiti with a Dan Rather film crew. Her parents are waiting at Pierre Payen and expect her there about 1 pm. After sitting and talking, asking Stephenson and Cenofa what they would like to do (engineer and computers/pilot) and their hopes for education, we piled back into the truck and entered the stop and go (more stop then go) traffic around the airport. We went first to the terminal that serves the private prop planes. Sitting there, I watched various people get their shoes shined by the outdoor shoe shiner. One gentleman was nattily dressed in a suit, holding his cell phone and keys in one hand, and sipping a beer with the other while his shoes were buffed to a high shine. Finally the door opened, a young lady in a wheelchair accompanied by a camera man (his camera weight depends on what time of day it is! About 20 pounds on his shoulder), a reporter and a multitude of others. All the bags, including 2 floor fans and a bunch of plastic shopping bags filled with food, toys, supplies, etc were loaded into the back of the truck. Off we were into the traffic. I estimate it was a 1/2-3/4 mile to the private plane jet terminal. This took easily 20 minutes. Then we waited until more docs, nurses mostly from Branson, Missouri came out. The truck bed was overloaded with bags and gear. Susan and I guarded our bags to keep them from being buried. After confusion was controlled, we pulled out back to the departure terminal where Susan and I entered the check in maze! We went through the first x ray screen and attempted to enter the business class check in line. The security guard was skeptical that 2 very grubby smelly dishelved women could possibly be sitting in business. He wanted our itinerary which we didn't have, a ticket/boarding pass (hey, we're in Haiti...printing boarding passes prior to the airport was not an option, my elite card (left at home)...but eventually, he acquisted and we got in the line. BIG MISTAKE! The guy behind use went throught the regular line and was easily checked in 30 minutes before us. Then thru immigration, another xray screen, shoes off, bags, etc. We then went up and escalator and another xray screen. At this point, no liquids. We then entered the waiting area that was cool. Time passed. Now mind you, we were up at 5, left Pierre Payen at 6:30 am and our flight was not until 4 pm...so time passed SLOWLY. As it came time to board the plane, everyone pushed forward despite the multiple English, French and Creole announcements that boarding would be by group number. They stared in disbelief that we were in business! But those seats were comfortable!! Once we arrived in Miami, we cleared customs, wended our way to Terminal D. The uppity young TSA agent did not seem to think that either Susan or I resembled our passport pictures! We told him that a little hot water would improve that. Off to the Admiral Club and awesome hot showers and cold drinks (they seemed to recognize 2 desperate for showers women). We are now clean and can no longer smell ourselves waiting for our delayed flight to Chicago. The fire alarm is going off....

This has been an incredible experience. Haiti is a beautiful country, filled with contrasts. The colors of the taptaps, the sounds of singing-even from the overcrowded back of the pickup in front of us as we drove to PAP, the braying of the donkeys, the crowing of the roosters, and the honking of the horns blend together to form an indelible memory. The look of gratitude when treatment is given and the hugs from patients and family will linger in our memories. The people were welcoming, friendly, grateful and eager for attention, assistance and friendship. The younger generation thirsts for knowledge and opportunity. Education I think is key. They will be the ones to rebuild their country. We talked with a business man on the plane. Perhaps, we can make a difference together. Haiti's needs are many but what if we, as medical professionals, could establish a hospital in PAP that educated nurses, physicians, dentists, optometrists that could then spread throughout the country establishing a network of health care for all. Susan and I will be going back.