The end of a mission

It's kind of hard to believe that it's been three months already.  I'm sad to say goodbye, but I feel good about what I was able to achieve in the short time that I was here.  On Friday I went to visit the first young lady that I ever saw for the accessibility team.  You might remember that I posted a picture of her in her house up on the hill, with steps leading down to the car that she clearly couldn't navigate in her wheelchair.  Our work is almost finished, and you will see that she now has a ramp right from her balcony all the way down to the car, not to mention her own private shower in the backyard.   

Before

After

It's a small drop in the bucket when you consider all the needs in this country, but I am happy to have touched the lives of these people in some small way.   

I will miss the strength and perseverance of the people, the music and the singing, the laughter and the tears, the scorching sun and the crazy rain, the productive and draining work days, and the hellos and goodbyes of all the staff.

But I am very excited to come home, especially with all of this now a part of me.  

See you soon,

Emily

In the name of sustainability

Seeing as HI will not be in Haiti forever, the idea is to try to impart as much of our knowledge (regarding accessibility) to our Haitian partners as possible.  Last week I assisted in a workshop given to local construction workers, animated by the architect, engineer, and OT assistant from my team.  Below are pictures of them doing simulation activities so that they can understand what it's like to have a disability and what kind of barriers you might encounter.  I think that the experience was very valuable for them, and hopefully it will change how they think about building (universal design meets Haiti?)   

I also did a workshop to our HI staff that are in the field everyday.  The goal was for them to learn to properly identify accessibility issues and be able to brainstorm solutions, taking into consideration the beneficiaries' limitations and the environment.  Here are some pictures of them doing a hands-on activity--determining what materials are available and how they can used to resolve specific accessibility problems. 

a day in the life

A lot of people have been asking me what a typical day is like here.  It goes something like this.

5:30--Wake up to sound of barking dogs.  Fight the urge to go outside and throttle them.  Wonder about my violent sentiments seeing as I consider myself a dog person.  Turn over and go back to sleep.

6:15--Slowly start the getting up and getting ready for work routine that involves negotiating the sharing of the bathroom, the kitchen, etc..with my 10 roomies, followed by eating a hearty breakfast prepared by the cook that is waiting for us on the terrasse.

7:00--Pile into the cars waiting to take us to the office.  Bump along through shortcuts and traffic jams, observing life on the streets of port-au-prince through the window.  Sometimes listening to my ipod, sometimes talking about Haiti with the driver, sometimes debriefing work or planning weekend adventures with my fellow passengers.

8:00--Arrive at the office.  Wash hands with chlorine (the first of many times this happens in a day, which means you constantly smell like a swimming pool, but feel protected from cholera).  Enter the office to a flurry of activity as everyone prepares for the day ahead.  Lots of greetings all around--two kisses for the french, and a  'Komon ou ye' for the Haitians, to which the appropriate response is 'en forme'.

9:00-5:00--The work day.  Either at the office, an old house that HI has rented and turned into office space, where everyone is working away at their computers, or engaged in meetings--your typical office setting really (only much hotter with no air conditioning and a constant flow of coffee, which i think is the French influence).  Or in the field, which essentially means different neighbourhoods in port-au-prince.  When this is the case, we drive from one beneficiaries house to the next, which can sometimes take hours because of the traffic, and the fact that addresses are assigned somewhat arbitrarily.  Finding a house usually means stopping 5-10 times to ask people for directions, but luckily somebody always knows somebody, who knows somebody else, who knows the person we are looking for, and the process is always very entertaining.  We eventually get to our destination do do our evaluations which is the best part as that's when we really get to know the families, how they live, what their lives are like, etc...  

5:00--Everyone meets back at the office.  Generally people are either hot and cranky or excited and exhilarated depending on their activities of the day.  Then begins the process of bargaining for a place in the car for the ride home.

7:00--Usually arrive home by this time, although sometimes it can be later depending once again on the traffic.  Gather remaining energy and do some kind of exercise to make up for the fact that most of the day is spent sitting.

8:00--Eat dinner left by cook in the fridge and re-heated in the microwave, or maybe go out for a meal at one of the MANY nice restaurants.  Hang with roomies, watch a movie, read, work, or catch up on emails, etc....

10:00--Start the getting ready for bed process (5:30 comes early).  Bug net.  check.  Fan.  check.  Head lamp.  Check.

11:00--Good night!

The breakfast table

The drive to work

My colleague at the office

Street scene

  

on the job

Lately we've started doing re-evaluations of adaptations that have been done between January when the project started and now, just to make sure everything is going well.  Most of the time the beneficiaries couldn't be happier and we've taken wonderful videos (which unfortunately won't upload here) of them telling us how much of a difference the adaptations have made in their lives.  A lot of time it's the difference between being able to leave the house or not, being able to work or not, or simply being able to go to the bathroom independently.

Sometimes, we run into situations where the adaptations are not going as well as planned, and the re-evaluation gives us the chance to see that, and take the steps needed to fix it.  Here are a couple of pictures of me measuring a ramp that accidentally dips down to one side, and observing a young man doing his transfer from his wheelchair to the toilet over a large block of cement.  The block was built to prevent water from going from the shower to the toilet area but is clearly in the way of the transfer.  We have since fixed the ramp and removed the block so he can safely use both areas on his own.

     

Weekend adventures part 2

I've been keeping it a little bit more low key lately, and staying around Port-au-prince on the weekends.  I spent one weekend with a lovely Canadian couple who have lived here for over 30 years (friends of a friend I met here).  They have a very cozy home nestled in the picturesque mountains, an abundance of fresh non-haitian food, and a TV--all very exciting things.

The view from the house--note the meditation bench

Zoomed in

This weekend I stayed home, but our house hosted a party complete with two live bands, for all of the national and expat staff from HI and other organizations.  I think it was quite a success.  Here are a couple of pictures of the band and the dancers...a little blurry, but it gives an idea of the scene.  

Welcome sign--copyright Emilie Forestier, the architect I work with

   

Day off

As I was groggily getting ready for work this morning, there was a knock on the bathroom door, and I opened it to find my colleague reporting that the president had suddenly declared it a national holiday.  It sort of has that snow day kind of feel; we all took off our HI t-shirts, got back into our PJ's, and crawled back into bed!    

Since I'm spending the day at home, I thought I would add a few pictures of life around house 5.

Me playing with the 11 new puppies 

Evening aerobics to make up for the fact that we sit in a car for 5 hours everyday and can't walk anywhere

Sunday night family dinner--the only day of the week that the cook is off and we have to fend for ourselves

feeling powerless

With all the good will in the world, sometimes there's just nothing that can be done.  I was faced with this type of situation twice last week.

The first was when visiting a women whose house had been totally destroyed in the earthquake.  In its place she has a tent, donated by another aid organization, that she lives in with her whole extended family.  Because she now walks with a walker, she can no longer leave the area where her tent is located, so her entire living space is now the tent, and the 5 feet outside of the tent.  Unfortunately there is no possibility of installing a ramp of any kind given the terrain....and she has no money to relocate to somewhere else.

      

The second situation was later in the week when I went to visit a little girl with Cerebral Palsy in one of the camps.  When we arrived, the door to the shelter  was locked with a padlock, the girl was inside, but the mother was nowhere to be found.  We inquired with the neighbours who explained that the mother had gone to sell goods on the main road.  We managed to find the mother, who knew full well the dangers of leaving her daughter at home alone, but sadly, could not find a way around it.  She has no other family, and her only way of making any money to support herself and her daughter is to sell goods.  The main road is far away, and the terrain to get there is rugged, so it would be impossible for her to carry what she is selling, as well as her 5 year old daughter who can't walk, there and back everyday.   My heart just broke, because although this situation has youth protection written all over it, the mother truly wants the best for her daughter, but is trying to achieve this in a country where there is no system in place to help her.