For the record, Saturday night was #5.
Today was the start of another week and the beginning of my second week of Creole lessons. After work, I walk down the rock-strewn road and along a path to the school. It's in a concrete building with screened-in sides. I sit at a cute little biwo (desk), in the plastic chez (chair) and learn all I can from the animated instructor at the chalkboard. Now, I can say things like, "If your leg hurts on the bottom or here (and I point), put on more socks. If the prosthetic leg feels tight, remove a sock". Thankfully, we have interpreters in the clinic and we don't have to rely on my Creole skills but I still use what little I know quite a bit!
Even with some shared language, there are times when we have to work together to communicate what's needed. A while ago I was looking for a specific tool in the lab. I've always called it a deburring tool. It's used to round a rough edge on a piece of plastic especially after it has been cut. The techs and I went back and forth as I attempted to describe how it looked, what it did, etc. I even attempted to draw a picture. Finally, one of them said, "Oh, se General!" They had named it the General. Funny name, I thought, until they brought it to me and showed me that it was labeled General-which must be the brand name. Similarly, razor blades are called Gillett here.
Probably my favorite Creole phrase I've learned is a Haitian proverb: piti piti zwazo fe nich. It translates: little by little, the bird makes its nest. Basically, it takes one step at a time to accomplish anything. I'm frequently reminded of this when patients get their prostheses and start their therapy. Little by little they stand, take some steps and, after a lot of work, usually most of them end up walking without crutches by the time they leave.
Later this week a radiant patient who has been courageously taking those steps will be discharging to start her new life with prostheses. She lost both her legs above-the-knee as a result of injuries she sustained in the earthquake. One of Jay's last days here, she walked about a half mile up hill from L'Escale, the community where many of our patients stay, and finished by walking up the ramp at the clinic. Here's a video of that:
Little by little she worked on her goal, her “nest”. What an honor it is to see her progress so well and to have had a small part in her success.
Mondays here in Haiti are always someone's beginning. That makes it exciting to get up Monday mornings and see what the week has in store for us all.
