A different part of the city

My mom is visiting! Well, technically, right now I'm visiting my mom. She is working at Kay St. Germaine, a treatment centre for kids with disabilities. It's been really interesting to live on the opposite side of the city for a few days, and notice how different it is. The most noticeable difference is that it's quiet here. In Bolosse, where I live, it is always noisy. The noise starts at 5:30 in the morning when it starts getting light. A steady stream of people with empty buckets and other water containers treks down the hill, and people carrying full buckets on their heads coming back up. Street vendors play music from their radios if they stay in one place, or shout out their wares if they're walking. The water vendor's truck has a horn that sounds vaguely like an ice-cream truck, but plays the titanic theme song. And the sound of motorcycles blaring their horns as they round the corner is constant from sunrise to long after sunset. Basically there are a ridiculous amount of people crammed into a relatively tiny space, and it is impossible that our neighborhood would be anything other than noisy. The one or two nights that the streets have been dead quiet at night were because there were gunshots and a gang in the area, so instead of being peaceful, the quiet was just eerie.

In contrast, Kay St. Germaine is on the opposite side of the city, tucked between the sprawling compound of the UN forces (from our porch you can see the flags of the Israeli and Italian regiments across the street), and the US Embassy. On the weekend when there are no kids at the center, there aren't many people around. We're surrounded by warehouses and lots of green space, actually, and it's hard to believe I'm still in the same city. It's been a really nice change of pace (and volume) and it's been fun to meet all of the people my mom has been working with, including a canadian nun, an argentinian physical therapist, an irish occupational therapist, and bunches of other interesting people.

The big topic of discussion here this weekend has been the cholera outbreak in St. Marks, and what's going to happen if it reaches Port-au-Prince. I spent my afternoon of internet access on the WHO (World Health Organization) website researching cholera treatment and prevention, so I have all the information I can gather, and I've been relieved to discover that cholera is a completely treatable illness. The reason it is so fatal is that it moves incredibly quickly, so if you aren't diagnosed and treated quickly (the treatment is simply rehydration, combined with simple antibiotics for more severe cases) the dehydration can cause death in a matter of hours. Thankfully there has been a rapid and fairly comprehensive response to the outbreak, and it will hopefully be contained soon.  Please know that you don't need to worry about me. Cholera spreads through contaminated water, and we have a very good water filtration system within our orphanage. If I still manage to become sick somehow, we have a large stockpile of oral rehydration salts that were left by some medical teams a few months ago, which I will be force-feeding to anyone who shows so much as a hint of cholera symptoms during the next few weeks.

Keep Haiti, and especially the town of St. Marks, in your prayers.

Love, Cecelia