Haiti - Day 14

My last day.

Today was the day that at one point a while back, I had hoped would come very soon. But once it came, I dreaded it.

We said our good-byes not only to each other, but to some of our favorite patients, Haitian doctors/nurses, and our beloved translators. The translators were a phenomenal group or smart, helpful young men who made our jobs possible and who were with us for every patient encounter. Many of them go home to a tent at the end of a long, tiring day of work...a day that earns them a mere $12. IMC gave us $300 for being here - which is both generous and embarrassing. I gave each of the 10 translators $20, as certainly they're more deserving of it that I. I go home to a job that I both complain about, and take for granted. Many do not have jobs anymore now that we are gone, and are fearful of their future that at just 20 years old, should be bright and full of opportunities and dreams.

Before I left Boston two weeks ago, everyone said to me that I would meet some incredible people on this trip. I was a bit skeptical, as I am convinced that I am friends with or in love with or am the daughter/sister of the most incredible people this world has even known. Which is still true...but – they were right. I have met some truly passionate, selfless people who truly embody the notion of "service before self".

I think I will leave this country with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. I have been blown away by the sadness, destruction, and corruption. But I have also been equally impacted by the resilience of these people. For no matter how difficult their lives truly are, they have risen above. And whether we are here or not, they will persevere. I never once heard anyone complain about how difficult their lives are. Now I fully realize that we back home may have difficulties in our lives, but the people here undoubtedly have difficult lives. But there is a sense of pride the Haitian's have for their country - the very country that has robbed them of everything they have. I find that ironic, and beautiful.

Thank you to all of you who have taken interest in reading my stories from Haiti – I feel that conveying to you these very vivid and real events and emotions every night makes this even more of an enriching experience for me. Even if I feel that my effort here was futile at times, I will, at the very least, leave knowing that I have given an unbiased, raw, and real account about life here. It isn’t pretty. It isn’t polished, and it isn’t edited. But I think we would all agree that being informed and opening our eyes to the world around us, whether it is pleasant or not, gives us a chance to change ourselves or change the world in which we live.

Au Revoir, Haiti. And thank YOU for what you have given me.

PS - thank you to those who have been moved to ask "How can I help?" - please email me at gsbeverstein@hotmail.com and I will give you information about other great organization here that are doing really good things for this country, and will guarantee that your donation will be well spent.