I am the worst blogger in the world.

So here I am again, attempting to post. Having a blog is not the easiest thing I have done before. I feel that I could compare it to wanting a pet when you're a kid. You really, really want one because they are so awesome and all the cool kids have one, but your parents tell you that if you get one you have the responsibility to care for it and keep it updated! When I first left for this trip I swore that I would update once a day. What a bold statement. As you can easily see, I haven't been the best parent to my blog. However, I will try to update more often. Where should I start this update? I guess, from the beginning.

It is easy now to break up my time here so far in to two segments. Before the earthquake and after the earthquake. I say this because I feel that so much has changed since the earthquake hit Haiti.

Before the earthquake, everyone here in my house was busy preparing for education conferences, unpacking shipping containers, baseball teams coming from the states, and a large nursing team. I started my Spanish language school about three weeks ago and I am really enjoying it. I learned how to take public transportation to school and back from my house. I also learned just how crazy public transportation is in the Dominican Republic. Whenever our big bus of Americans drove by a big bus of Dominicans during one of the many summer trips I have been on, I always wondered what it was like in the other bus. Where are they going? How ever did they figure out what bus to get on? Why are there so many people on that bus!? It must be so hot on that bus! Friends, after my adventure on public transportation I am able to answer these questions. To begin with, my professor explained to me that in order to understand public transportation here you basically need to ask every single bus driver you come in to contact with how to get where you want to go. Great news, public transportation is so confusing that even the natives don't understand it. Secondly, there are so many people on the bus because the bus driver is paid based on how many fares he collected that day. This means, that just when you think you can't fit just ONE more person on the bus without the sides bursting open, the bus will in fact stop and let 6 more people on. I have also learned that hanging out the door with only one foot in the bus still means you have to pay for your ride. And finally, yes, it is as uncomfortably hot as it looked like all these years staring in to the other bus from our air-conditioned bus. I miss those big air-conditioned busses. So to wrap things up, school is great. I feel that I am learning a lot, but it is still frustrating at times because I recognize that I still have so much to learn.

I was even able to get to a beautiful beach named Juan Dolio with Ruth one day for about an hour. It is one of the most amazing sites I have seen! The ride out to the beach from our house took about an hour and a half with traffic on a road that runs along the shore. I kept joyfully saying, "We live in paradise!!!" to Ruth. (I think she thinks I'm crazy now.) I will never get used to seeing such beautiful water so close to our house! Sorry Jersey, but you don't have anything on warm, crystal clear blue waters in the Dominican Republic. Ruth and I ate at a restaurant on the beach. I ordered my favorite juice, Passion fruit juice, and we shared the most delicious dish of chicken with garlic butter sauce. It was so beautiful I took a picture. Actually, I took two pictures. Now that is some lovely chicken.

The day after we went to the beach we left for Jimani. Jimani is a town in the DR located at the border between the Dominican and Haiti and is about 4-5 hours from Port-au-Prince, Haiti. On the way in to the town I was incredibly shocked by what I was seeing. The entire town had turned in to one large trauma center. Virtually, every church, hospital, school, pharmacy, and every possible building had been turned into trauma centers. Huge army tents had been sent up all over town housing more patients that the other buildings couldn't accommodate. Baseball fields and other large grassy areas had been turned in to helipads for helicopters that continuously brought in more patients from the capitol. One of the Pastors, Pastor Brony Novas, who was working with our group called us on the way in as we followed his car to our hospital and told us that what we were about to see was really horrible. That it was going to be really hard and he offered us the chance to stay at a local pastors house if we didn't think we could handle it. We explained to him that we were ready. We didn't drive 5 hours from the capitol just to avoid reality. After Brony's call, I started praying silently to myself in the back of the van. I know that God doesn't put us in situations that we can't handle, and that when we do find ourselves in those situations he sends us with a way and with support. I prayed that God would give me the strength to get over my fears of not being able to handle what I was about to see so that I may serve God and the Haitians to my fullest ability. As we drove through this on the way to where we would be working I remember thinking that if it was this busy in this section of the town, then our hospital couldn't possibly be busy as well. I found out soon that I was underestimating how many victims were able to get across the border in order to receive help. We pulled onto the property we would be working in. In any other circumstance, I would have considered myself lucky to be able to stay at this facility. It is absolutely beautiful. The property has two very large white buildings that overlook water and mountains. It was built by a pastor to be an orphanage and he is waiting for the furniture to be delivered. It is amazing how things work out, if the orphans would have moved into this facility already, I don't know where we would have been able to put the hundreds of refugees that flooded the area. We pulled into the parking lot and before we were out of the car or even parked we were immediately greeted by Renee, who was in charge when we showed up. He told us were to park and were to stand right away. I remember feeling like I was in a war scene looking out the window of the van, staring at all the chaos around me. I took one deep breath in, (Be still), and exhaled, (and know that I am God.) and got out of the car. It was a little before 11am on Monday when we started working as soon as we arrived. It was a little after 7am on Tuesday when we were forced to stop because our team had to leave to go back to the capitol for business. None of us wanted to go. Our hearts remain with all the people we met there. Ruth and I were in charge of what Renee coined as the "man pool". We found all the people who were not injured in the earthquake and joined them together in order to form a group of people who could move patients around and basically do whatever the doctors needed. We moved patients from one area to another by picking up their mattresses with the victims on them. We organized ambulances and later trucks to transport patients from one building to the other where they did amputations and operations. At one point, Renee told me he wanted four patients moved in to this one room. I was relieved to see that finally these four patients who had been lying on the grass outside of the building would get an actual room with a roof over their head and out of the sun. I later found out that he wanted me to move them because these patients’ injuries were to great and he wanted them to have their own private room until they died. I was surprised that I didn't really have a period of "getting used to" people dying and seeing dead bodies and horrible injuries. I guess when you are put in this type of situation you recognize that no one will benefit from you crying. You just enter in to work mode and stop thinking about what fears you may have had.

Chaos continued throughout the day and actually became worse whenever there was a shift in doctors. There was no continuity between shifts and doctors were not communicating with one another about patients, medicines, techniques, nothing. It was a frustrating situation to be in as a non-medical person who has little to offer but muscle, willingness to do anything, and love.

Love. I couldn't help but feel for these patients. The doctors are amazing at attending to the physical need of the patients, but because of the enormity of the situation, the chaos, and the language barrier, the doctors were not communicating to the patients what was going on. I saw so many eyes that were so fearful and confused. Patients we waking up missing arms and legs and not understanding why. One woman was surrounded by tons of people at one point and they were all yelling at her while she lay sobbing, holding her baby on a mattress. They wanted her to get off but she had a broken leg and refused to move out of fear. I don't know what came over me, but I pushed my way through the circle of people and even though I don't speak Creole, I was able to tell everyone to go away. I knelt down beside the woman and tried to console her. I waved Olson over, a 22-year-old boy I had become friends with whose mother was in the clinic. He spoke English and Creole and I asked him to translate for me. He told me that she was told to get in the back of the truck so they could take her back to Haiti because she had been treated and she needed to go. What the doctors didn't explain to her was that she was simply going to another refugee camp where we were sending patients for post-op recovery. She thought that she was going to be dropped off in Haiti, with no family, no food, and a new baby and a broken leg. Once we were able to explain this to her, she left relieved knowing that she was still going to be cared for and watched over. After that situation, I made it a point to make eye contact and smile with the patients I walked over and between all day long. I started to understand that maybe God sent me this way so that we could minister to one another like this. With love and compassion and simple smiles that lets one another know you acknowledge them, you feel for them, and that you are here with them. There is no one beneath us. We are all the same. Created equal in God's eyes.

Around 3am Tuesday morning most of our patients had fallen asleep, thank God they were able to. I noticed my friend Olson, from earlier was awake. We began to talk and he told me how his mother would be taken to surgery in the morning. He confided in me about how scared he was for her and that he didn't know he she was going to loose her leg, or die. I sat with him and helped him understand the doctor’s notes for his mother and we learned that she had a bad break in her tibia, but she would be just fine. I was so moved my Olson and his courage. I asked if he would introduce me to his mother. So we went over and I sat next to her mattress on the floor and was able to have a small conversation with her with the help of Olson's translations. They both told me how they are Christians. His mother loves to sing in their church's choir and Olson plays the piano in his. Unfortunately, the church and their home both collapsed. But, what moved me to tears was what Olson said next. He told me that it didn't matter and that him and his mother knew that everything was going to be ok. They knew this. They also said that they knew God is good and they are thankful to God that they still have their lives and each other.

About 4 hours later the morning silence was broken by the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my 23 years. Songs of praise and worship. The room that held our most serious patients some of who were dying while they waited to be taken to surgery was singing. All of them. They were supporting one another up in seated positions. If they were paralyzed or and couldn't sit up they had their hands raised as high as they could manage and they were all singing. Worshipping, praising, thanking God for all that He is and all that He has given us.

It is amazing to have the privilege to meet people like Olson and his mother and all the other patients, who are so strong in their faith that they remember to be thankful to God for their blessings even after they have lost so much. What most would view as loosing 'everything'. It reminds me to be thankful for everything that I have been blessed with. I am so thankful that I have such an amazing and strong support system at home of my family and friends. I am so thankful that I have a family that understands my call to be in a strange land, much different from home. I am so thankful that I have been called by God to be his hands and feet and that he has given me an able body to carry out his work. I am thankful for the team of people I have the chance to work with here and how we are able to minister to one another and show one another what it really means to live in community as Christians. This list could go on forever and I'm sure yours could as well. What are you thankful for? Be sure to thank God for his endless blessings, especially in the times when you seem like you can't find a single one. One lesson I have learned from this is that we need to pray the hardest especially when it is the hardest for us to pray. When it seems like a task to reach out, but it is OK if the other words we can muster up or put together is "I need you." or "just get me through today". After the earthquake, there is a long road ahead for many people. Just in a week, our foundation has had more calls from people interested in volunteering than ever before in the history of the Foundation for Peace. We had to add trips to our calendar for the next month and a half and keep getting busier and busier. I ask that you would all continue to pray for the Haitians who are still in need of medical care. Pray for the doctors and all the volunteers who are reaching out to the thousands of people affected by this tragedy and please pray for the Foundation for Peace that God would continue to guide us to where and how He wants us to serve.