Friday

Friday, November 17

Why does the chicken cross the road?  I’ll tell you later.

Our final day of clinic is always bittersweet.  Ready for rest yet reluctant to leave my new friends. It makes me think of my concerns of yesterday. The bittersweetness of trusting God and His power when I am feeling utterly powerless. I turn to Matt Redman’s song, “10,000 Reasons”.

“The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning.  It’s time to sing Your song again.  Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, Let me be singing when the evening comes.”  

The only route through is with an attitude of gratitude…10,000 reasons for my heart to find, singing like never before wherever He takes me.

It is an overcast, dim day, ready for rain as we arrive at clinic. We are greeted by a parade of sorts.  We are  told the proper name is a ‘Manifestation’.  I have a front row look as I wait to pass through to clinic.  Rows of brightly colored. fancily dressed women are marching down the road, each with a straw hat and purse of bows.  They are chanting and excited onlookers surround and follow them.  We see the Voodoo Doctor, with whom we prayed in clinic this week, leading the way. Apparently, this is a Voodoo thing.

Bas is my interpreter and I share my bench with Dr. Vic one last time. We examine our church volunteers first today.  There are 15 or so church members who have volunteered their time this week to assist us in the clinic. They range from young adult to old.  

Jacko comes to me.  He is 20 years old, tall and thin and works as a tailor.  He is my own son’s counterpart and I tell him so.  I anticipate that he will tell me he has the common complaint of fever, cough, “acid reflux” but instead I find that he has high blood pressure.  I take his blood pressure  on each side because I cannot believe this could be true for one so young yet so it is.

Once again, I hear my baby before I see him.  Bowden’s Aunt has brought him back to us and she is smiling.  He is dressed in a bright blue jumper and holds my finger with his tiny grip.  His breathing is less labored and he is more alert.  He is, indeed, better. As I hold him in my arms I rock and sing.  Bas comes over and he and I sing hymns together and our voices calm his fussing.  Bowden’s eyes look toward Bas at the richness of Bas’ deep voice.  Later, I hug Bowden’s mama and aunt and tell them what a faithful fine job they have done with him.  They tell the Pastor that they are grateful for our help.

Sweet 7 year old Nasquadia walks happily beside her mother and brother as they come to me.  She looks fairly well and so I am surprised when I find her tonsils and uvula to be so large there is only a small airway left; something we call kissing tonsils. Mama tells me she won’t eat. What an understatement!  Thankfully, the tonsils do not look infected only enlarged but nevertheless will need surgery.  Bas talks with mom and recommends a nearby hospital while I give her ideas about feeding and safeguarding her child.  

We end clinic early so that we can thank all those who made this week possible.  The rain gently begins on the tin roof of the church as we gather and sing.  It’s refreshing coolness blowing across the open air sanctuary.  As the rain becomes louder and more forceful, so do we, with Paul as our cheerleader.  We cheer and celebrate one another and overpower the sound of the rain.

It is a muddy drive home with laughing children splashing and the irrigation canals rising.  The roads in St. Marc are bustling and traffic is full.  Sue points out a chicken on the sidewalk who appears to be deciding whether he can make it across the busy road in front of us.  We watch to see if the chicken will cross the road. When he takes off suddenly, out of our sight, we all look to the other side to see if he makes but he is nowhere to be found…until he is spotted just outside the windshield on the hood.  He is stares at us as we stare at him and he stays there until we stop at his stop down the road where he hops off.  Even the vendors beside our van are curious and laughing.

So, why did the chicken cross the road?  He didn’t he took a taxi.

We end our daylight with a small clinic for some of the foster kids who live near the guest house and then it is off to ready ourselves for our trip back to Port-au-Prince tomorrow.