Haiti, Day 1

Cornell told us that instead of taking our summer breaks the old fashioned way, we were supposed to do something "productive" with it. And their definition of "productive" happens to be one thing - research.

I could go on forever about how I feel about that. But I'll spare you the rant and just get to the point that I decided, fine, I'll do research. But you can't stop me from traveling and adventuring, so I'm gonna do it somewhere, anywhere else in the world.

So, after taking my last test in the first year of med school, spending a week at my homes (Ithaca, Boston, Toronto), surprising dad on Father's Day with the sisters, and watching my best friend get married (tears), I finally hopped on a plane to PORT-AU-PRINCE, HAITI to spend my 2 months of summer!

So here I am, back on my "funemployment" blog, although what I'm doing this summer technically doesn't fit the description. But oh well, it's generally how I try to live life anyway.

So I got on the plane, and first thing I noticed was that:
1) This plane was 90% Haitians and
2) 10% white people wearing matching T-shirts with hearts on them saying "be a changemaker!" "Save the villages!" "Rescue Haiti!"

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little there with the quotes, but you get the point. I carefully observed the Haitians walking past these uniformed altruists, and they did not look pleased in the slightest bit.

This really hit me. I'm by no means belittling what these volunteers are doing in Haiti - I find their giving spirits commendable. But I couldn't help but wonder, what difference are they actually making? Whose lives are they truly improving - those they are going to help for a month, or their own? Is their, no, is our presence actually welcomed?

I know, great way to start my 2 months of clinical and research work in an infectious disease clinic, amirite?

ANNNND WE'RE LANDING IN HAITI!

A couple first things I noticed upon landing:

1) Haiti is NOT as hot as I expected and what people made it to be. I think it's because I have lived and survived in Houston, which to this day seems to be THE HOTTEST place on earth I've visited (and I've been to places like Singapore).

2) To strangers and outsiders, Haitians seem to come off pretty cold, even a bit rude. But to their own people (family etc.) they give the worlddd. Very "us" and "them". At least from what I see, from something as simple as getting luggage. Maybe I'll get lucky and make some friends while I'm here.

We waited literally an hour for the luggage to all come out. It was a hot mess.

The thirst was real

People slowly picked out their bags and walked away. Every bag that wasn't mine that rolled out made my heart sink a little lower and believe a little more that my bag was lost. One by one the crowd thinned out, until, it was just, me.

Ruh roh. Small panic moment.

A dude with a lanyard walked up to me and asked to see my ticket. I showed it to him. He said "wait here", and disappeared for one second before reappearing with my bag. "Thank you SO much!" I said, "where did you find it??" "Give me money," he said, and walked away disappointed after I gave him only a dollar. Kinda sketch, I would say.

I finally made it out of the airport, and was greeted by a man with a sign that said "JENNY XIA". I felt so welcomed :). Except he was NOT happy - with my flight delay and luggage shenanigans, he had been waiting for 2 hours! He took me in his van and we took off. 

The driver was not a happy camper. This was not alleviated by the fact that I gave him wrong directions to the clinic at first. The car ride was awkward, and he at some point turned on the radio at full blast. I have to diffuse the tension, I thought to myself. Except the driver didn't speak English (they speak French/Haitian Creole here)! So I took a deep breath, set my insecurities aside, and busted out the broken French that I barely remember :

"Les montagnes sont belles (the mountains are beautiful) (at least I think)". 

The driver turned around and laughed. "Ahaha, tu parles Francais? (you speak French?)". I explained that I speak a little and will practice while I'm here. He told me his name is Joseph, and proceeded to teach me a bunch of Creole phrases. The most important ones, if you ask me -  for example "I'm hungry" (which I was, extremely).

Tension, gone. 

To be honest, my first impression of Port-au-Prince was poor. To get to the clinic, Joseph took me through the slums of the city, and it was nothing I had ever seen before - broken shacks extending for as far as I could see, women sitting near it with small piles of mangos on the ground for sale, big sacks of donated clothes with people pulling them out in every direction, interspersed with fighting pigs and piles of burning trash. It put the way I live my life to shame.

But, as we drove further inland, up the mountains, the socioeconomic class rose along with the elevation. Steep, mountainous paths are lined with beautiful stone walls, with pink tropical flowers peaking over the edge. Inside, colorful mansions stood proudly, accompanied by their backyard pools.

So, with whatever right I have to pass judgements on a place based on 3 hours of observations, I think Port-au-Prince is just like any other city - maybe just a little more extreme - a place with severely imbalanced wealth distribution. 

Oh, I skipped over the part where Joseph took me to the clinic, "Les Centres GHESKIO" to meet the crew. I met Katey, an MD from Weill Cornell, one of the girls I'll be working and living with, and some other important people.

The house I get to stay at (for free, if I can get any luckier, since Cornell owns it) is halfway up the mountain. So, you guessed it, in a decently wealthy area. And my jaw literally went like this :O after I saw how ENORMOUS it is. Especially since I'm coming from NYC.

Also the girls who live here longterm got a puppy, named Ziggy. Adorableee. Except he's teething, and literally bites EVERYTHING. So this is what happened when I played with him. 

But in all seriousness, today has been a bucket of mixed emotions. I don't know how I can help here in Haiti yet. To be honest, I don't even know if I can make a difference. The only thing I do know is that I get to live in a fancy house. A BIG ASS fancy house, with electricity, internet, 3 bathrooms, and a guard.

There is much to experience and learn. I think this country will teach me more than I can offer to give, for now at least. But I am thankful to have this chance. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to make someone feel glad that I came to offer my time and energy, maybe I'll be a part of a process that discovers a better treatment for TB. Or maybe I'll be lucky enough to be considered an "insider" by a local Haitian.

Anything is possible. I'm excited.