Dear Family
and Friends:
This is my last note, written to you from the comfort of my living room in Scottsdale, Arizona.
I already miss certain things about Leogane, but at the same time I am happy to be home with Jeanne.
Mornings are quiet here in Scottsdale. In a strange way, I miss the jarring "honk" of the ice truck arriving across the street at 5:30 a.m. It signals another day of street traffic bursting on to the scene back outside the windows of those living at Hopital Sainte Croix.
I miss my new friends, who know who they are, and who I hope to see again, most especially Watson - who I am confident will do good things.
Friendship finds you in most unexpected times and places. Only in the last week or so in my stay in Leogane did I connect with the Jo Jo, the pharmacist at the hospital. We now are in email contact. In the last month I have really understood how important his work is to the hospital. I will see Jo Jo again. And also Mario.
As I sit here drinking some red wine - a Cab - I think of Missy Owen from Indiana, who has been in Leogane for more than twelve months this last stay - with many before - and will be there another twelve months or so, who is doing so much for the medical care of Haitian women dealing with cervical cancer and with children's malnutrition.
Today, I went to the local Albertson's to buy some chicken thighs to barbeque. For a carnivore in the U.S., shopping for food is very antiseptic and remote.
In Haiti, bringing food to the table is up front and in person. A month or so ago, I walked into the kitchen at the guesthouse on a Saturday afternoon, after Jeannine had been to market for the coming week. Four chickens were walking around the dining room for their last few hours of life.
A few weeks later, after we had taken Jeanne to the airport on June 3rd for her return to Arizona, we were driving to a hardware store, MCSPlus, to buy a new stove for the guesthouse kitchen. We were stopped in traffic behind a large truck - like the troop haulers you see in WWII movies - with people from the country coming to market in Port-au-Prince to sell food supplies. Tied upside down on the side of this large truck were at least 50 live chickens bound together in groups of ten or so. They were dazed but still alive.
I don't think my friends in Leogane are dazed any longer. But they have been through more in eighteen months than many of us will ever face in a lifetime. Their love of life and drive for well being remains in ascent.
I hope this last note finds you and your loved ones in good health and spirits.
This is my last note, written to you from the comfort of my living room in Scottsdale, Arizona.
I already miss certain things about Leogane, but at the same time I am happy to be home with Jeanne.
Mornings are quiet here in Scottsdale. In a strange way, I miss the jarring "honk" of the ice truck arriving across the street at 5:30 a.m. It signals another day of street traffic bursting on to the scene back outside the windows of those living at Hopital Sainte Croix.
I miss my new friends, who know who they are, and who I hope to see again, most especially Watson - who I am confident will do good things.
Friendship finds you in most unexpected times and places. Only in the last week or so in my stay in Leogane did I connect with the Jo Jo, the pharmacist at the hospital. We now are in email contact. In the last month I have really understood how important his work is to the hospital. I will see Jo Jo again. And also Mario.
As I sit here drinking some red wine - a Cab - I think of Missy Owen from Indiana, who has been in Leogane for more than twelve months this last stay - with many before - and will be there another twelve months or so, who is doing so much for the medical care of Haitian women dealing with cervical cancer and with children's malnutrition.
Today, I went to the local Albertson's to buy some chicken thighs to barbeque. For a carnivore in the U.S., shopping for food is very antiseptic and remote.
In Haiti, bringing food to the table is up front and in person. A month or so ago, I walked into the kitchen at the guesthouse on a Saturday afternoon, after Jeannine had been to market for the coming week. Four chickens were walking around the dining room for their last few hours of life.
A few weeks later, after we had taken Jeanne to the airport on June 3rd for her return to Arizona, we were driving to a hardware store, MCSPlus, to buy a new stove for the guesthouse kitchen. We were stopped in traffic behind a large truck - like the troop haulers you see in WWII movies - with people from the country coming to market in Port-au-Prince to sell food supplies. Tied upside down on the side of this large truck were at least 50 live chickens bound together in groups of ten or so. They were dazed but still alive.
I don't think my friends in Leogane are dazed any longer. But they have been through more in eighteen months than many of us will ever face in a lifetime. Their love of life and drive for well being remains in ascent.
I hope this last note finds you and your loved ones in good health and spirits.
David
6 July 2011
