Getting Sewing Machines

Haiti Kids

Haiti Houses

Images of Haiti

singing

July 19- we are crocheting in the women’s group today.  Everyone is very focused.  In the background, I can hear the children singing in the next room.  They are loud, very loud and joyful.  They pound on the desk in rhythm with their chanting. Sometimes the women get annoyed with all this noise.  But I live to listen to their singing, no matter how loud it gets.

can i touch your hair?

July 19- "Madame, can I touch your hair?"

Bon Appetite!!!!!!!!

July 18- I received my meal of the day at 3:25PM today: rice, beans and an unidentifiable meat (probably goat).  As I was about to take my first bite, an ant crawled out from under the pile of rice.  Bon Appetite!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Englisg Lessons

July 17- “Goo mooring, Madame, hell a you?”  So ends my first week of English lessons in the women’s group.  I have been trying in vain to learn creole and nothing is sticking in my brain.  At best, I have learned one phrase and i am not getting that right.  “Hot, Hot” is either show-shoe or so-so or shoe-shoe.  And no matter which one I use, I am wrong and not understood.  So I think it will be easier on all of us if they learn English.  So each morning, I greet them individually with “good morning, Madame, how are you. They return the greeting and laugh with delight that they now speak English.

spray bottle

July 17 - To relieve just a moment of this heat, I travel with a spray bottle filled with cool water.  It’s caught the attention of the women. So around 11, each morning, I roam the room and offer a quick spray.  Some of the women want me to spray them on the back of their necks.  Some want it on the crown of their head.  Others tighten their eyes and take is square in the face.  Though it is only a moment of relief, it feels great as we share this universal need to be comforted.

Good Enough

July 16- the women, in our women’s group, are not really interested in my interests in promoting women and making the world a better, safer world for all women.  They are just hungry to have a place to congregate, make knotted bracelets, sit, sing and talk, and maybe, for now, that is good enough.

up on the roof

July 15- I have befriended the young girls in the neighborhood. We meet at night, on the rooftop. One of them has a phone and a few downloaded music videos. I sit on a pail and they cluster around me, their boney elbows resting on my shoulders. They insist I watch their 1" screen filled with Haitian pop stars. Sometimes they dance for me and sometimes I attempt to dance for them. This brings a lot of laughter and rightfully so. When the bugs become too much, I excuse myself and go back to my room. Tonight, I am bringing my MP3 player. Madonna will be joining us.

speaking English

July 12- I meet a man who spoke to me in plain English. He offered an apology for his poor English skills. I spoke no Creole and offered no apology.

The Old Lady

July 8-

The Old Lady

Her house is across the street from the Salvation Army compound, where we hold our camp. I noticed her the first day. She sits at the doorway by herself. I assume her family is working because I don’t see anyone attend to her. She is led...early, bone thin and feeble. I take her picture to add to my collection of sights that hold my interest.
On the third day, I walk pass her house. She is lying on the cement floor, her head protruding out of the doorway. The hot sun is beating down on her face. She waves to me, gesturing me to come over to her. So Lynn and I go over and it is the first time I can see how terribly destitute she is. There is a bed against the far wall. A small table and chair sit right by the door. There is a small pot next to her which must be her toilet. However, it appears as if she is not using it. Blood and fecal matter stain the floor. There is nothing else in this small, one room house.

She points to a chair which is low to the ground. Lynn and I attempt to lift her. Although she is probably no more than 75lbs, she is dead weight and it is a struggle to drag her two feet to the chair. The situation is more difficult because we don’t have a firm grip on her. She is so dirty that I can’t bring myself to grasp her tight enough.

Our gatekeeper, Lucien, sees us so he comes over to translate. She is 86 (my mother's age). She complains of pain. She is alone. She tells us that she is hungry. "Everyone in her family is dead, Madame", Lucien tells us. The neighbors apparently feed her from time to time. But I can’t understand how they can do this because they do not appear to have enough food for themselves.

I look at her long, broken toenails. Someone should attend to them. She should be bathed. Her skin abrasions should be looked at by a doctor. Her clothing should be burned. Someone should hug her. But I don’t to any of this because I do not have the strength of character to do this. I am ashamed of myself but not enough to do something.

We go back to the compound and ask Nadiv, the doctor, to look at her after he finishes the clinic.

"What does she need?" he asks me.

"Morphine", I tell him. “She needs to be put out of her misery. This woman needs to go home to her maker”.  He laughs and dismisses my response.

Nadiv does go over to see her and he is much more optimistic about her situation.

"She is alright, a little skinny but old people get skinny. She doesn't have any tremors and she doesn't smell too bad." He thinks she is just very old, weak and lonely. "But she's not too bad." We bring her rice which she devours. We also give her some bananas we took from the hotel. We leave her with another bowl of rice.

I go over the next day to bring her more rice. I see that yesterday's bowl is filled with bread.  I immediately become suspicious that someone took her rice and left her with stall bread. I hope this didn't happen and I know there is no way to safeguard her from this despicable possibility.   Her situation is hopeless.

I look around her room and I am filled with despair.  I feel helpless.   I can only commit to feed her every day for the reminder of my time in Haiti. But I hope and pray that she dies under my watch so that she might have a moment before her death of feeling loved and cared for. And so that i can walk away from Haiti and her without feeling as if I abandoned her.

"OK, when you leave"

Ok, when you leave

Many of the women only know one phrase in English.  They tug on my arm and point to something of mine.  “Ok, when you leave.”  Then they point to themselves.  They want my heat, my purse, my blouses, my eyeglasses, my water bottle, my water sprayer.  Someone actually pulled on my bra strap.  My $8 Wal-Mart slip on sneakers are a very hot commodity.  I wonder what the USA customers officer would say if I did come back sans everything that has been coveted.

Bringing the kids to camp

Bringing the kids to camp


We pay a man to pick kids up from a tent city and bring them to our camp. He has a beat up old van.  The front wind shield is shattered in a few places.  There are no seats, just some benches that he has jerry-rigged to the floor of the vehicle.  I went with him one his first run to pick up the kids.  Sitting in the front seat, I had 5 kids on my lap; their boney rear ends pierced my thighs.  We transported 33 kids in that run.

Cool drinking water

Cool drinking water is sold in plastic pooches, about six ounces, just enough to quench a thirst.  The pooches produce so little litter compared to a plastic bottle.  Regardless, these empty pooches are discarded everywhere.  Litter is a problem.

Bridget Kelly in Haiti

Bridget Kelly in Haiti
Jacmel. Haiti
Summer 2013 


In the winter of 2010, Nadiv and Lynn Shapira, from Wilmington, DE, made their way to Jacmel, Haiti to offer medical treatment to the many people who suffered injuries from the devastating earthquake.

Lynn was so moved by the devastation and the poverty that she started the Haiti family Initiative when she returned to the USA.

Now in its fourth year, HFI offers a yearly summer Wellness Program.  The people of Jacmel are offered free medical care, a women's empowerment group and a camp for the children.

The program is run by volunteers from the United States and around the world. These volunteers are supported by translators from the Foreign Language Institute, an English language school started by a group of young men, dedicated to helping Haiti.

This summer, I was asked to spend the entire five weeks in Jacmel, with the intent of mentoring the translators so that they may some day take over all of the responsibilities of running the children's camp and the women's group.

I am grateful to have had such a rich opportunity.

Haiti Family Initiiate- an Introduction

Coveting All My Things

COVETING ALL MY THINGS

Many of the women only one phrases in English. They tug on my 

arm and point to something of mine, 

"OK, WHEN YOU LEAVE."

Then they shamelessly point to themselves.  They want my hat, my 

purse, my bloused, my eyeglasses, my water bottle, my water 

sprayer.  Someone actually pulled on my bra strap.  My $8 Wal-

Mart slips on sneakers are a very hot commodity. I have had several 

requests for them. 

I wonder that the USA Custom’s Official would say if I did come 

back sans everything that has been coveted.

Keeper of the Rice

KEEPER OF THE RICE 


 Little, dirty fingers slide in to the palm of my hands. They grab on to my belt loops. They hang on my purse straps. They cling to my legs. They know I am the keeper of the rice.