Thoughts

As I end the second week of my externship, I'm learning more about healthcare. It can be filled with stress at times, and it is complex; but these facts also make it a cooperative field, at least in the context of a small doctor's office. I'm being encouraged more and more to take vital signs and interact with patients, and I'm getting more comfortable in that area. Toward the beginning of the week, a lady started to become upset with me because I was nervous as I took her blood pressure, but this was the low moment of the week. I grew increasingly comfortable and competent as I practiced taking vital signs, and I feel like I'm starting to give almost as much to the office staff in terms of office help and medical assisting than I am taking from them in terms of asking for help or clarification. I'm not there yet, but I hope to be. At the same time, I'm getting to know the other students (there are four in the office at the moment) and the staff. This is tur...

I began my internship (really called an "externship") today at a local doctor's office. I thought that I would be nervous and clumsy, that I would annoy my coworkers with mistake after mistake. It didn't happen, though. In fact, the majority of the day, I filed patient records or answered phone calls or entered electronic medical records. I got to know my coworkers a little. They're nice. Besides the doctor, there is only one other male, and the other interns-- there are two of them from other colleges-- are both younger than me. In fact, both thought I was their age. I could have thought this a compliment, until one girl said it was because I don't act thirty-two. The office probably doesn't see many thirty-two year-old interns, either. All in all, I think I'll value my experience at this clinic. If nothing else, it will help me compare health care to education. I look forward to learning more, and hopefully seeing whether medical school is in my fu...

Scan the Haitian landscape on a trip through its lush mountains and you are struck by the dominance of nature here. Mountains recede endlessly into the horizon, lush with green under an ever-present haze; rivers wind purposefully to an expanse of ocean that seems a world away from this height, dotted with people washing cars or clothes or selves; beach surrounds and embraces the waters that arrive at its shore, at once welcoming and rebuking their struggle to reach land. Taken together, this island communicates solace and rest. There is, however, another and more powerful message, communicated less by its landscape than by its people. It is expressed in the faces and voices of its merchants, its health workers, and most visibly for a group of eleven visitors, its orphans. It was at an orphanage, in fact, where this group began to understand that Haiti is as much a place of hope as it is a place of beauty. This “Hands and Feet” orphanage, a gated compound housing roughly seventy chi...

Underneath Chrissy's quiet, reserved exterior is a lighthearted humor that caught some of us off guard. It was this humor, however unexpected it sometimes was, that brought a sense of fun to our trip. Nonetheless, it was a trip that meant far more to her than mere fun and games. It meant working against her natural comfort as an introvert. She is learning, in fact, that it takes effort for her to go and meet others. On the outside, however, the rest of us saw where at least one of her strengths lay. It could be seen on the face of a single child, deaf and unable to speak. This child was named Kerby, and it was Chrissy's knowledge of sign language that gave him what we knew he saw as the greatest gift of our time there: the gift of communication. I tend to believe, however, that Kerby was drawn to Chrissy not just for her ability to communicate. Kerby saw in her, as the rest of us saw in her, a kindness visible in the way she intentionally reached out to others. This reach...

Corey's strength on this trip was his example of humility. He was one of two team members vulnerable enough to let us see his internal struggles. These struggles, however, could more accurately be called Corey's shame, and it was this reality that allowed us to see just how difficult it was for him to display what was in his heart. Still, he saw the value of such honesty, because it was through that honesty that he was able to come to terms with his own anger in a way that encouraged peace, both in himself and eventually with others. Some of us, in fact, made false assumptions about Corey from the beginning, this youngest male on the team. He explained this by saying that he believes others see him as naive or overly optimistic. In fact, in his words, he "can see the darkness," but he chooses to focus instead on the light. Indeed, events on this trip and any serious conversation with him allow you to see that there is a hidden depth to Corey. So it goes, too, with...

Two words defined Rita's experience with Haiti: "prayer" and "mom." These two words represented Rita's purpose and her character. Indeed, from the struggles she faced to get there, one could say they represented her very life. While some of us struggled to find our personal contributions to this trip, Rita's became clear. Her prayers resonated with us, appealing as she did with such strong conviction to a God she knows so personally. To be sure, there were moments of uncertainty in these prayers, moments when she could have been embarrassed by her conviction to pray them; but her God was bigger than her fears, a truth so rooted in her that you could hear it in her very voice. Like so much else that is meaningful in life, this conviction did not come easily. Her story in Haiti began with a doctor's diagnosis of a brain tumor. She was told she would need surgery to have it removed, a surgery that was scheduled for May 1st and that would require a...

Julie's faith was an example to me. Sitting on the steps of the orphanage on a warm evening, she relayed the joy she felt from serving in this place, the peace at having seen God confirm in heart what she already knew in mind: that God would meet our needs as our trip unfolded. She herself wasn't certain she could come a second time to help lead. This was not, I gathered, because she felt incapable of leading, but because of the struggles she faced at home. There was certainly much to distract Julie from the purposes of this trip, but instead of allowing those things to divert her attention, she embraced her role here fully. Part of that role involved what comes so naturally to Julie: prayer. This was her strength, that in moments of conflict or need, she prompts others to submit them first to God. It is this spiritual dependence, which others would perhaps see as a weakness, that gives Julie such intimacy with her Father. You could see this intimacy in the peace she felt...

Before she spoke a word, before the introductions and meeting and planning, it was clear that Melody was a person of kindness. She was among the quiet members of the group, but this did not mean she had nothing to say. Her message was communicated far more clearly in her actions, in the empathy and generosity and interest she took in others. Indeed, it was Melody who sat with others to listen to their stories and struggles, and it was Melody who took the time to ask after others when she thought they had a need. Melody's contribution to the team went further than her empathy, however. Indeed, it was because of that empathy that she served also as a unifying presence to us. Her friendliness allowed her to reach out to many members of the team, even serving to allay problems that surfaced between them. More than this, she had a nurturing quality that led her naturally to the orphanage children. When not at work, she could be found among them, playing and simply spending time with...

It's said that leaders are born, not made. The leader of our Haiti team, however, is proof that the opposite is true. Sandi had always known she would be overseas one day, but it wasn't until early January, 2010, when she learned what that might look like for her. It was then when she was approached by Julie, another team member, and asked about the Hands and Feet organization. When the now-famous earthquake razed Port-au-Prince and its surrounding area three days later, Sandi knew that part of her future-- if not all of it-- lay in Haiti. Still, organizing and leading a trip thousands of miles away was not exactly an everyday event for her, and she recalls that there were definite moments of anxiety as she prepared. These challenges, however, taught her above all that God is faithful. He proved that time and again as obstacles to the first trip were removed so the team could go. As a result, there was in Sandi a sense of calm as we prepared for this second journey to Haiti...

Of all the members of our team, I found no one with such spiritual depth, forged by personal experience, than Michael. He was at once a voice of spiritual reason and comfort, at times pointing out the spiritual nature of Haiti, at times calling us to prayer. He recognized, too-- and said so-- that the moments of mutual encouragement in our evening meetings were what the church was truly about. When Michael spoke, it was often to share some spiritual understanding that we may have missed, and there was about him a spiritual authority that helped balance the more practical side of our work in Haiti. At the same time, there was a wholly practical side to Michael. In fact, it was Michael who stayed at the orphanage to finish his work for the day while the rest of us were whisked away to the beach. It was Michael who used his knowledge as a furniture maker to build six full bunk beds in a matter of days. It was Michael who felt the pressure to build those beds by the end of the workweek...

On a quiet night early in the week, our team took the time to sit together to process how we were feeling about the trip so far. We never could have imagined what would come next. What began as a surface conversation turned quickly into one of such depth that by its end, several of us were found crying. It was a time of confession, a time of pain, and a time of healing; and it was Katie who took us there. At least, she was the one brave enough to be vulnerable about herself in front of the others. Such introspection seems familiar to Katie, but none on the team could deny her courage as she became the first to allow others to share in it. It was Katie who redirected the meaning of our trip from one that focused solely on service to one that turned inward, toward personal healing. No one, in fact, was more unprepared for this turn than she was. Indeed, Katie expected her focus to be on serving others. Instead, she discovered, in her words, that her "main calling is not what I...

No one had visited the orphanage in Haiti more times than Brittaney, and few had the same intimate knowledge of its history, workings, and purpose. In fact, she had a very specific reason for joining us on the trip this year. We knew she loved this place and these children. You could see it in way she spoke and in the time she spent with and love she expressed for little Mackenson, the once-malnourished baby brought back to health by the Hands and Feet directors. Still, she needed to know. She had to find whether her love for this place came from the camaraderie she had experienced with her friends on previous trips, or whether it welled from the connection she felt to the children here. She never said what she discovered, but based on the way she held Mackenson and the manner with which she interacted with orphanage staff, it is clear her heart is in Haiti. This doesn't mean there weren't challenges leading to the trip. On this trip in particular, Brittaney doubted at ti...

Of the members on our team, no one brought more character and more humor than Tim Bell. Equally important, few brought more experience. Tim, in fact, had traveled to several countries before Haiti, living for a time in Japan while in the U.S. Navy, and acting as a calming presence on our team. His experience traveling and simply living life allowed the rest of us to find reassurance from his presence. Tim was, in fact, somewhat of a father figure to us. He could also tell a good story. He spoke once of his quarters on a ship, directly under the landing area of incoming jets. Although he got used to the sound of the landing jets enough to sleep at night, he told us of waking up with debris on his face from his shaken roof. This "entertainer," however, has a more serious side to him. As Tim told small group members and coworkers alike about his decision to travel with us to Haiti, he recalls his wife and small group being very supportive. His coworkers, however, were less...

Our trip from the orphanage to the airport went quickly, but something was different about the drive. We were so overwhelmed on our first trip by the activity, poverty, and pollution of the city that we could do little more than take it all in. This was so true that I felt almost fatigued by all that we saw, though we were also tired from our flight. This year, on the other hand, I felt like I could look more closely at the details of what we saw on our drive. I noticed the lush mountains, receding one behind the other into the horizon, and understood then why a book about a doctor's work in Haiti could be called Mountains Beyond Mountains . In Port-au-Prince, I saw the people less as one conglomerate thrust moving in droves this way or that, or working in their respective businesses en masse. Instead, I saw their faces, their desires for their respective futures. This was, perhaps, sparked by a man I met at the orphanage, Angelo. This guard wielding a shotgun and charged with ...

There is a sense of accomplishment and lightheartedness as we ended our final day here at the orphanage. Our perspectives shifted often from outward to inward: a focus on each other and inside ourselves. I personally expected my work ethic to be tested, believing we would be working consistently and hard. While we did work hard at times, though, it was not burdensome. In fact, we took joy in our work together because-- I think-- we worked together. We shared the burden and the satisfaction of our work, the labor and the glory from it. This sense was, for me, just one example of the larger lesson I believe God continues to teach me, both here and at home: that despite our common tendencies to put off and be put off by others, despite our sensitivities and our judgments, our disparate temperaments and differences in social awareness, we are meant for each other. Slight and deep conflicts alike were all overshadowed by the common goal and common faith we shared while here, a reminder th...

Again we continued our various projects today: painting, building, and installing. There has been a spectrum of feelings expressed by each of us as the week has progressed. Today has been an example of that. In part because of this, one of the most powerful lessons I'm learning on this trip is that it's okay to feel. I see my teammates breaking down into tears, showing anger, and expressing shame. Events like these are somewhat foreign to me. Seeing these moments of pain in others, though-- along with the healing that came through them-- shows me that there is real purpose in our feelings. This trip, in fact, has been as much about understanding ourselves as it has been about serving others through work and time with children. Many of us are seeing ourselves on a level we aren't willing to explore at home, and this in front of-- and perhaps because of-- each other. If I were to summarize this trip into one word, in fact, I would call this a trip of healing: we are healing...

Our team accomplished a lot today. This is surprising, considering the pace of work in Haiti is much slower than what we're accustomed to in the United States. One of the missionaries said that the only thing Haitians do fast is drive. This seems true. They drive quickly, for the most part, on motorcycles or in their cars, honking to warn each other that they are passing. We finished building and painting all six of the bunk beds that will be placed in the main house for a team of seventeen who will be coming this Friday night. Another team member-- Brittaney-- and I installed two ceiling fans in the dining room, which gave me a sense of pride, even if the second one didn't work. I have to see why tomorrow. We stopped around 3:00 to shop with merchants who are allowed on the compound to sell merchandise to the teams who come each week. Afterward, we traveled to an incredible hotel to have dinner. It was set on a mountain above a cove that opened up to a wide ocean. There is...

Today, the team painted bunk beds and the inside of the dining room. I was told there was a lot of tension yesterday while a few of us were at the hospital, but we were mostly peaceful today. Tim and Mike, the two older men on the team, impressed me with their work. Tim, a mechanic, agreed to work on the engine of a tractor at a fellow orphanage nearby, led by a group of fellow Christians from Alabama. He said he was was nervous the night before, because he wasn't sure he could get the tractor to work. He did repair it, though, which was an immense help to them because the Alabama orphanage could use the tractor to carry dirt. It helped our orphanage director, too, because he traded Tim's skill for free dirt, which is being used for a new project in the main yard of the compound. Mike impressed me for his work building bunk beds. He cut his own wood to size, then built one today. He was the only member of the team not to go to the beach with us in the evening because he wan...

If last year's trip to Sisters of Charity children's hospital allowed me to see the gravity of need in Haiti for medicine, today gave me a broader and more realistic picture of that need. A few of us woke up at 4:00 A.M. to take a five year-old boy to the hospital around Port-au-Prince to get an x-ray of his newly-healed arm. We left at 5:00 and arrived by 7:00, the time the hospital opens its doors. Some patients arrive earlier than 7:00, and by the time we arrived, the small waiting room was already packed.The orderlies, mostly American missionaries, place a piece of tape with a number on the hands of those nearest to them on the waiting area benches. We saw the number "29" on the hand of one woman. The doctor, one of the few orthopedic surgeons in the region, arrives at 8:00 and serves those in order of appearance. He saw us on his way in and made a point to see us earlier than some who were already there. We didn't even receive a number. At first, I thought...

It took some time to wake up this morning. I'd forgotten how tiring traveling can be, but last night and this morning reminded me. We attended the local church, whose congregation was mostly young. It reminded me that the average Haitian dies relatively early, yet another symbol of the country's status as poorest in the Western Hemisphere.* Though we couldn't understand the words of the songs and sermon, we saw a unity and passion in the parishioners. This is a country, however, where faiths are mixed freely. Indeed, this is well-known enough that there is a saying because of it: Haiti is eighty percent Catholic, twenty percent Protestant, and one-hundred percent voodoo.** Later, we met as a team to talk about how each of us was feeling. It turned out to be an incredibly intense meeting. Many of us opened up to share our personal struggles to such an extent that several began to cry. It was a time of letting go of our pride and inhibitions, and a time of dropping our gu...

Today was much easier this year than was true of the same day on our last Haiti trip. We took a red-eye flight, and some of us stayed up all night. Once we arrived in the Port-au-Prince airport, I thought we would have to battle the baggage assistants who want to help carry luggage in exchange for gratuity. We were so prepared to face this that we met for a huddle to devise our strategy mere feet from the terminal exit and the awaiting cadre of red-shirted men. One male would walk on each side, and others would surround those carrying the luggage while we made our way toward the waiting van. It was for nothing, though, because only a moment after we left the building, the director of the orphanage met us and asked the aids to take our bags. This was so much more peaceful than our experience last year, when we had to protect our luggage and repeat "No" firmly. There was no battle of wills this year, no competition for luggage, and I was grateful. The drive to the orphanage...

I started early today and worked on my last day of school for the year until a little over an hour before we had to be at the church to leave. After a send-off prayer, we left for San Francisco International airport. The drive allowed me to get acquainted with a missions leader at the church, named Bill. From him, I learned something about my assumptions of other Christians: I tend to believe that Christians are so concerned with conforming to an image of the ideal Christian that they bury any opinions that might be seen as judgmental or cynical. Bill, however, was open and forthright in our conversation, and I wholly respected him for that. The truth is that I have this assumption of other Christians because I see it in myself. I'm learning again, though, that God set us free from the chains of habitual and uncontrolled sin, not to strip us of our personalities and opinions so that we fit some uniform cultural perspective and lifestyle; but freed us instead to be "conform...