Images of Haiti

Last night, for the first time since leaving the island, I had my first dream about Haiti. In the dream, I'm trying to help build a new clinic in a dusty rural area, but it's hard getting supplies, there's no running water, and it's hard to build things faster than they fall apart.

And they say dreams aren't realistic.

Here's a slideshow of pictures from my Haiti mission. If you've followed this blog, you'll know I've described the scenes in each slide. My descriptions were graphic. The pictures, of course, are even more graphic, so please don't open them if you find it hard to look at medical photos.

~ Dan

Photo Credit: ServeHaiti

Follow the Entire Series

• Service Mission to Haiti
• In Another World
• People Everywhere, Water Not
• A Death anda Life
• Rain, Mud, and Water
• Time to Leave Grand Bois
• Big Country, One Doctor
• Kenia & Kafka
• Catching Up

Catching Up

At the end of each day in Haiti, I've been using this blog as a way to come to terms with the emotional whirlwind of my service there. Now that I'm back home, I realize I haven't even begun to unpack the feelings I'd been packing away.

For example, I showed my wife some photos taken while I was giving CPR to the old woman who died with my hands on her heart. It was the first time I'd cried since leaving home. And those tears weren't just for that lady whose time had come, but for all the things I could not do, that could not be done.

I also cried when I saw a photo of the clean, clear water spurting from the newly dug well after Dave hooked up power to the pump. Those tears were for the things we could do, that can be done.

Sadness and joy so close together, like the Port au Prince hovels side by side with mansions. What a lesson.

That last night in Haiti I sat up drinking beers with Rick Gosser, a 20-year veteran of service in Haiti. Rick pointed out that Haiti isn't unique in having both impoverished and wealthy people. But in Haiti, it's all jumbled together.

It's also a glimpse into our own possible future. Deforestation, soil exhaustion, overpopulation, air pollution, traffic, toxic waste, water shortages, inflation, economic collapse, political paralysis -- our children and grandchildren could all end up in some kind of Haiti.

There's an opportunity here to solve a lot of these problems. There's an opportunity here to read the writing on the wall, and act before we're forced to do so. And there's a personal opportunity for me, too, as I recover the emotions I hadn't had time to feel, to fully realize the degree to which I'm not from another planet than Haiti, but from the same small world.

I will always owe a debt to the people of Grand Bois for letting me serve in a small way; for teaching me so much. This blog started with me offering readers the chance to see me change. Whether that happened is for you to judge. From my point of view, I've been offered a great gift: A glimpse of the wonderful gift of hope at the bottom of Pandora's box of woes.


P.S. Please stay tuned. Now that I've got the bandwidth, I'll be posting some photographs of the events I've described.