Inside the Walls
and an Angel from God
Besides the lovely village of Trouin, all the places we went were surrounded by walls. It is the way
things are constructed in the city. Even in France, homes have gates that must be opened to let cars inside. Our first stop in Port au Prince was the Bishop’s office. (The cathedral, school and all the wonderful facilities had been destroyed in the earthquake.) We honked at the gate and were admitted by the armed guard. It was a lovely building where we had a potty break and enjoyed some AC.
The first hospital, Doctors Without Borders in Léogane was a huge compound. My only encounter with the gate was Palm Sunday night when Pere Michaud and Georgette came back from Trouin with food and a blanket for us. Pere Michaud called me and said “Come to the gate because they won’t let me in.” I went to the gate and the guard was holding it slightly open. I could see lots of people trying to get in. It was late and they were not letting them in. I got
close enough to speak to the guard (in French) and Père Michaud told me to speak English. Then he and the guard started arguing more and the guard slammed and locked the gate. Some other guard whisked me to another gate and let Georgette in but Père Michaud was not close enough to slip in. By the time he got close, the big angry guard had reached us and slammed the gate. Père Michaud had to go back up the mountain and come back the next day.
At the private hospital in Port au Prince, Hôpital du Canapé Vert, of course there was a gate
and a guard. There was also security at the door of the hospital. This made us feel safe. It was a lovely, pristine, professional medical facility. One day the nurse handed me a small piece of paper with a prescription written on it. She said that the hospital pharmacy didn’t have the medication and I needed to go to a pharmacy to get it. I explained that I could not do that. I do not speak the language, do not have Haitian money and do not know how to find a pharmacy. She could not help. I asked the next hospital staff person we met. We did not really see many family members in this hospital, because every patient had a room with a sitting area for family. All the patient doors were closed. I was in a panic. Georgette was no longer with us and Père Michaud had left to go back to Trouin for food and our luggage, since we knew we would not he able to return. This was one of the hardest days for me. I could not, would not leave the safety of the walls. I was truly frightened to step out the door alone. I kept hearing over and over in my head what the staff at Doctors without Borders had said, “We don’t let our ambulance go to PAP (Port au Prince) in the afternoon, because it is not safe to return after dark.” It wasn’t dark, but I was petrified.
An Angel From Heaven
I just lay down because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if this was an important medicine or not. I thought it said Nexium in a vial. I had seen ads for Nexium and didn’t think it
was a serious drug. I finally had an idea. Let’s call the bishop’s office. I knew that we had been in the Canapé Vert part of PAP (Port au Prince) when we went by his office the first day. Luckily, Gail had with her a sheet of paper with lots of emergency numbers. So many of the things we needed were still in Trouin. As we scanned the paper for the bishop’s office, Gail saw the name, Angela Galbreath, who works with Partnership (a vehicle by which Episcopal churches in US can partner with churches in Haiti). I called the number and Angela answered. When I explained our situation she said “I’LL BE RIGHT OVER.” I just cried. She became our guardian angel. She is American, but speaks Creole perfectly and loves Haiti. She stayed with us until we left for the airport. I will never be able to explain what an angel she was. She got the medicine, talked to doctors, made phone calls, got us food, and became our friend. Part of my melt down was due to the language problem. The Haitians speak Creole, not French. Many of them can speak French but not everyone and some not as well as others. I was going from English for Gail and
Caroline to French with the doctors and staff. Père Michaud could do all three but sometimes I had trouble understanding him. And then I was on the phone with people in the states telling me to get the doctor to check for strep, or West Nile. And then nurses using French terms that I have never learned like bowel movement. I knew pee and vomit and fever and nausea and diarrhea, but there were medications and tests and diseases like dengue fever. Angela could handle all of that for me now.
One of the best things she did for me was to get me out from behind the walls. We had been in that hospital for days and I was having a melt down. She offered to take me to her apartment for a shower and use the internet and rest, or to go with her to a couple of meetings. We decided that I should tag along and see the city. I am so glad I did. Outside the walls is a wonderful, vibrant city. There is much progress and lots of people doing what people do everywhere….living. There are still tent cities and slums, but there is also construction and the garbage is no longer piling up in the streets.
At the private hospital in Port au Prince, Hôpital du Canapé Vert, of course there was a gate
and a guard. There was also security at the door of the hospital. This made us feel safe. It was a lovely, pristine, professional medical facility. One day the nurse handed me a small piece of paper with a prescription written on it. She said that the hospital pharmacy didn’t have the medication and I needed to go to a pharmacy to get it. I explained that I could not do that. I do not speak the language, do not have Haitian money and do not know how to find a pharmacy. She could not help. I asked the next hospital staff person we met. We did not really see many family members in this hospital, because every patient had a room with a sitting area for family. All the patient doors were closed. I was in a panic. Georgette was no longer with us and Père Michaud had left to go back to Trouin for food and our luggage, since we knew we would not he able to return. This was one of the hardest days for me. I could not, would not leave the safety of the walls. I was truly frightened to step out the door alone. I kept hearing over and over in my head what the staff at Doctors without Borders had said, “We don’t let our ambulance go to PAP (Port au Prince) in the afternoon, because it is not safe to return after dark.” It wasn’t dark, but I was petrified.
An Angel From Heaven
I just lay down because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if this was an important medicine or not. I thought it said Nexium in a vial. I had seen ads for Nexium and didn’t think it
was a serious drug. I finally had an idea. Let’s call the bishop’s office. I knew that we had been in the Canapé Vert part of PAP (Port au Prince) when we went by his office the first day. Luckily, Gail had with her a sheet of paper with lots of emergency numbers. So many of the things we needed were still in Trouin. As we scanned the paper for the bishop’s office, Gail saw the name, Angela Galbreath, who works with Partnership (a vehicle by which Episcopal churches in US can partner with churches in Haiti). I called the number and Angela answered. When I explained our situation she said “I’LL BE RIGHT OVER.” I just cried. She became our guardian angel. She is American, but speaks Creole perfectly and loves Haiti. She stayed with us until we left for the airport. I will never be able to explain what an angel she was. She got the medicine, talked to doctors, made phone calls, got us food, and became our friend. Part of my melt down was due to the language problem. The Haitians speak Creole, not French. Many of them can speak French but not everyone and some not as well as others. I was going from English for Gail and
Caroline to French with the doctors and staff. Père Michaud could do all three but sometimes I had trouble understanding him. And then I was on the phone with people in the states telling me to get the doctor to check for strep, or West Nile. And then nurses using French terms that I have never learned like bowel movement. I knew pee and vomit and fever and nausea and diarrhea, but there were medications and tests and diseases like dengue fever. Angela could handle all of that for me now.
One of the best things she did for me was to get me out from behind the walls. We had been in that hospital for days and I was having a melt down. She offered to take me to her apartment for a shower and use the internet and rest, or to go with her to a couple of meetings. We decided that I should tag along and see the city. I am so glad I did. Outside the walls is a wonderful, vibrant city. There is much progress and lots of people doing what people do everywhere….living. There are still tent cities and slums, but there is also construction and the garbage is no longer piling up in the streets.
Angela writes for a magazine called Haiti Magic that is available to people at the airport when they arrive. It promotes the beauty of Haiti and encourages tourism. We went to a lovely café and met a girl who makes gorgeous, exclusive, expensive beaded jewelry. Creations Dorées de Stephanie et Sara. http://www.creationsdorees.com/ Two other colleagues met us there, one of them a photographer. Angela bought me a latte and I just sat and watched and listened – they were speaking English, though all were Haitian except Angela. The jeweler studied in Montreal and is an interior designer by profession. While they were chatting, Angela’s car got towed so we had to go to the police station to get it out. I told her it was my fault, I am a jinx. She had to pay $75 and was able to get it out quickly. The fine should have been $100 but she recognized one of the policemen as a friend and parishioner of one of the priests. Then we went to the main office of the magazine and I sat in the lobby as she had another meeting.
This little outing helped me see that life in Haiti is good. It is not a scary place. It is a place full of life and wonderful people like my angel, Angela.
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