The Harsh Realities of Haiti

Because I am living here and dealing with people on a close personal level, I sometimes feel that I have to protect them by not revealing all that goes on here. On the other hand, I feel that it is important to tell the truth and to expose the realities of a different culture. One of the harsh realities that I contend with on a daily basis is the fact that in Haiti, common sense is not so common.
Upon my return, one of the first things I had to contend with was the firing of our cook who had been here since opening day in March. We had confronted her with many issues since the beginning, concerning the timeliness of her meal preparations, with missing kitchen supplies, food supplies, and her lack of participation in taking care of the children. On the day of the last straw, she took it upon herself to prepare a meal that contained sugar, which was saturated with gasoline. Somehow, while being transported from the market, gasoline had spilled onto the large bag of sugar. She was aware of this problem but chose to prepare a soy porridge type of cereal for dinner anyway. My first clue that something was amiss was the fact that she was serving dinner at 5:00 p.m. instead of the usual 6:00 p.m.. I questioned that fact and she pretended she was unaware of the time. Nevermind the clock on the kitchen wall and the watch on her wrist.
The kids had eaten about half their meal before I was informed of the situation. They were all talking at once, refusing to eat their food, saying it was bad. I sampled a few of their dishes trying to understand the problem. The food had a sharp bitter taste at first but then the sweetness and the cinnamon spice made it seem edible. Finally, the oldest child explained to me (with a mix of Creole and English) what the problem was. I looked at the cook and she smiled a wicked smile. She then led me to the supply room to have me smell the sugar. It was covered in gas. Even the bag was stained. I asked her why she cooked with it and she shrugged her shoulders. I was so furious with her! I immediately stopped the children from eating and had them throw their food away. I had the men burn the 50-pound bag of sugar in the back yard. It looked like a forest fire! The flames shot up about 20 feet in the air. We all had headaches and stomachaches for a couple of days. Her explanation was that she thought the gas would burn off during cooking. Since it was a soy porridge type of meal, there was nothing to “burn off”. There was no question that she needed to be fired. She has not been missed.
We had another woman step in the next day to take over the cooking duties. She worked for a week and then discovered she was pregnant. With another toddler on her hands, she thought it was best to stay home. Our Watchman, Julius, stepped up and prepared breakfast for everyone that first morning, which was great, by the way. After that, he and his wife have been sharing the responsibilities of meal preparations three times a day. This has been going on for over a week now. They are both exhausted, having three girls of their own, but have not complained or given up. We are still looking for another cook.
The next tragedy occurred a few days later when my firm rule of “No children will be transported by motorcycle taxi” was ignored for the third time at the expense of our dear Angeline. She had been very ill for several days and they finally decided to take her to the doctor. Julius was given the responsibility of taking her but my rule had not been shared with him. It is common (again, no sense) practice to transport children by motorcycle because it is more readily available than waiting for a “Tap-Tap”, a vehicle that serves as a taxi. My position was that the safety of the children is more important than convenience.
As an adult, I found it difficult to ride safely and hold on during the rough road conditions. On more than one occasion, my foot slipped and hit the spokes of the tire after hitting a hard bump in the road. That is what happened to Angeline on September 4th, the first day of school. It was fortunate that she was wearing tennis shoes because her fate would have been worse. Her little foot became wedged between the tire spokes and the bar coming down from the seat. It split her tennis shoe in half on both sides of her foot, shaved off the rubber of her sole near the ball of her foot, and crushed her heel. It looked like shredded wheat. Had she been wearing sandals, she would have lost her heel as well as a few toes. My heart broke for her. Julius was grief-stricken. Angeline was in shock for several days. The doctor was uncertain as to whether her foot was broken. (They did not take any x-rays). I am happy to say that she is back to her usual bouncy self and her heel is starting to look a little better. I have been cleaning and dressing it everyday. There is still some concern about tissue damage but we have to wait a few more days. As for her sickness, she was diagnosed with Malaria. After completing her medications, she is doing fine and is back in school. The No Motorcycle Rule is now clearly understood.
There are plenty of petty instances that occur on a daily basis, but the more serious issues leave me shaking my head. I hope I have not upset anyone by sharing these harsh realities but it is the way it is. I thank God that these senseless incidents turned out as well as they did.