Cheryl’s Interpreter Gladias

I love how things seem to fall into place. I think 3 weeks for this place is giving me a really good feel for everything. For instance, I didn’t feel quite satisfied leaving the traditional birth attendants and not getting any individual portraits, but it is so tiring to just manage everything… hot, hungry, worn out. So, since I have time, I’m able to return. AND, I think when you return somewhere, it makes the people a little more comfortable anyway.

Haiti is one place I would consider returning to. It is so desperate. I thought China was poor in 1986!! HA!

One more thing, you need to hear about Gladias. He is my 25 yo interpreter. He is such a nice guy. He LOVES karate and wakes up at 5:30 am to take a lesson from his instructor, M-F. He wants to be a doctor and has done well on the TOEFL (test of English Language fluency). He has been translating for awhile… gets his work by his reputation, word of mouth. He really likes working as a translator for the doctors. He is intelligent, honest, respectful, diligent, fun, adorable, sensitive. Willing to work hard. He says there is a woman from the States who is trying to help him get into a college in Kentucky. I have my fingers crossed for this guy. He wants to return to Haiti to serve his people and build Haiti up. He and Ewins and several of the boy orphans I met are equal to any of the Charles Wright Academy kids… or more so.

I let Gladias take one of the small cameras that Craig donated so he could photograph his life. He returned today with his photos. Several of them show his stack of books: SAT prep, TOEFL practice book, etc. I asked him about his computer use. He doesn’t have one but goes to cyber cafes. I asked if he has a thumb drive or could use one and he doesn’t have one but yes, could use one. AT this point, he just takes notes from things off the computer. If I can remember at the end of my stay, I will give him the 16 gb thumbdrive I brought here to donate to M4H. I just feel very safe with him and he not only interprets words but his culture.  SO, you don’t have to worry about my safety here… I don’t think! And the taxi drivers (taxis are actually motorbikes) seem to drive very well, carefully, slowly. I feel safer on the streets here than I did in Mongolia!!!

Here’s a little vignette of my experience here, for instance. And mind you, this is just one short 5 minute conversation. Yesterday, I rode in the back of the bright pink Saj Fanms pou Ayiti (Midwives for Haiti) jeep to the christening of the new health center in Trianon, about 1.5 hours away. One of the midwives eventually bent forward to rest her head in her lap. I asked (through my fabulous translator) if she was ok. She said she was just tired because she had worked last night at the hospital. Pause. So, I pressed on with another question,  “Any babies?” She said, “Two.”  Pause again. So, I asked about anything else and then she added, “And three fetal deaths and one maternal death.”  The maternal death was a mother having her first baby and she died from eclamptic seizures.

Today I pack up and move to the orphanage for the next week because the midwives are getting a new rental home and this one is going to be getting packed up. I will likely sleep in the girls’ building but spend time in the priests’ guest house for meals and relaxation. Much cushier there. I went to the girls’ building yesterday for the first time just to check it out and again, was a magnate to a half dozen little girls all asking in English, “What is your name? My name is …” That’s about as far as our conversation can go. One of them took my hand to lead me upstairs. Words aren’t always essential. My reluctance to change residence has more to do with conserving my own energy than anything else. I manage to have some privacy at the midwives house, so I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll find a little after I move.

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