UUSC is excited to be partnering with the Unitarian Universalist Association on a joint volunteer trip to Haiti for seminarians, May 24–31. Participants are working with the Papaye Peasant Movement, a UUSC partner in the Central Plateau, on the creation of an eco-village. In the post below, participant Dennis Reynolds, of the Meadville Lombard Theological School, shares his thoughts on embarking on the journey. 

My journey to ministry has been a long one. I am a 61-year-old seminarian who is completing his schooling at the same time my youngest of three three adult children graduates from college.

Before entering seminary at Meadville Lombard Theological School, I had been, for many years, active in my home congregation in Eugene, Ore. I attended school on a part-time basis while still continuing my 30-year prior career as child-care director at the University of Oregon (GO Ducks!). I left that position in 2009 to devote myself to seminary internship and clinical-chaplaincy training full-time.

When information came my way about the upcoming UUSC-UUA seminarian journey to Haiti, I looked longingly at an opportunity that would not likely fit my schedule. As I came to the end of my seminary work this spring, I imagined I would be seeking a church to serve as an interim minister for 2011–2012.

When the Ministerial Fellowship Committee advised that I had more work to do in identifying and understanding my ministerial authority and deepening my understanding of privilege, this trip became part of work they, and reluctantly I, saw I needed to do. Their decision to defer my fellowshipping created time for me to continue to grow. I applied and was accepted to be part of this undertaking.

A journey such as this is not merely to a geographical location. I have no doubt it will be  a journey within. Traveling with UUSC and UUA staff and a cadre of fellow UU seminarians will assure opportunity for reflection and for listening to the reflection of others.

I am especially pleased that we will be there to support the work of Haitian partners and thus practice the delicate art of being an ally. My time in South Africa in 2009 provided a previous opportunity to work in the Global South offering support to a local initiated project.

I admit to being a bit anxious, but I am deeply thrilled and honored to have this opportunity to serve and to learn. Learning is a life journey, and to borrow a line from a Kenyan character in the recent film The First Grader, "I hope to learn until there is dirt in my ears." 

The following post was written on May 19 by Melanie Malovany, a registered nurse and participant on UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti (May 15–20). Participants are providing health-care services with UUSC's partners in Port-au-Prince.

I arrived in Haiti five days ago, and I'm still trying to take it all in. I'm struggling with putting this experience into words. The stark contrasts remind me of the words of Ram Dass, who tells us that we are capable of feeling sorrow and joy at the same time.

Haiti has been devastated. Everywhere there is evidence of the earthquake. Beyond the rubble and destruction, there is the incredible beauty of the country. Haiti's people have been injured and left homeless. Where some always faced poverty, they now find themselves with nothing, living in camps or on the street. They smile and sing. They keep going. A young boy told me how much he loved Haiti, was proud to be Haitian. As I worked at the Association for the Promotion of Integral Family Healthcare (APROSIFA), I felt that my efforts were so inadequate, the needs so daunting. Yet, I still felt a strong connection to the people I met and touched. We built community and fellowship.

Haiti is not hopeless. Her hope is not in people like me but in her own people. Her hope is in the women I met who have established programs that get kids off the street and allow them to explore their strength and creativity. The art that comes from them is exquisite. They are taught life skills and self-worth. They are the future of Haiti. I feel blessed by this experience.

The following post was written by Tammy Webb, a physician assistant and participant on UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti (May 15–20). Participants are providing health-care services with UUSC's partners in Port-au-Prince, including the Commission of Women Victims for Victims, known by the Haitian acronym KOFAVIV, which Webb describes working at below.

A three-year-old with blank eyes who did not cry, whimper, or even flinch as I examined the severe physical trauma inflicted on her in a brutal sexual assault only days ago.

A woman in her 20s very happy I could confirm her pregnancy and tell her everything looked OK.

A 17-year-old who has been crying for two months since a severe beating and gang rape. Her parents died, she feels all alone, and she has to live where the assault happened.

A young girl who makes an arduous journey every day to KOFAVIV because the program has done so much for her.

I could listen, I could provide antibiotics for the infections, but what I couldn't do is offer them safety. To have so many people still living in tents with unsafe conditions 18 months after the quake is an affront to any sense of human decency. KOFAFIV is an amazing program, and I am proud that UUSC is a partner — but so much more needs to be done. The one promise I made to my patients is that they were not alone, and I would continue to tell their story so the world does not forget.

The following post was written on May 19 by Melanie Malovany, a registered nurse and participant on UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti (May 15-20). Participants are providing health-care services with UUSC's partners in Port-au-Prince.

I arrived in Haiti five days ago, and I'm still trying to take it all in. I'm struggling with putting this experience into words. The stark contrasts remind me of the words of Ram Dass, who tells us that we are capable of feeling sorrow and joy at the same time.

Haiti has been devastated. Everywhere there is evidence of the earthquake. Beyond the rubble and destruction, there is the incredible beauty of the country. Haiti's people have been injured and left homeless. Where some always faced poverty, they now find themselves with nothing, living in camps or on the street. They smile and sing. They keep going. A young boy told me how much he loved Haiti, was proud to be Haitian. As I worked at the Association for the Promotion of Integral Family Healthcare (APROSIFA), I felt that my efforts were so inadequate, the needs so daunting. Yet, I still felt a strong connection to the people I met and touched. We built community and fellowship.

Haiti is not hopeless. Her hope is not in people like me but in her own people. Her hope is in the women I met who have established programs that get kids off the street and allow them to explore their strength and creativity. The art that comes from them is exquisite. They are taught life skills and self-worth. They are the future of Haiti. I feel blessed by this experience.

The following post was written by Tammy Webb, a physician assistant and participant on UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti (May 15-20). Participants are providing health-care services with UUSC's partners in Port-au-Prince, including the Commission of Women Victims for Victims, known by the Haitian acronym KOFAVIV, which Webb describes working at below.

A three-year-old with blank eyes who did not cry, whimper, or even flinch as I examined the severe physical trauma inflicted on her in a brutal sexual assault only days ago.

A woman in her 20s very happy I could confirm her pregnancy and tell her everything looked OK.

A 17-year-old who has been crying for two months since a severe beating and gang rape. Her parents died, she feels all alone, and she has to live where the assault happened.

A young girl who makes an arduous journey every day to KOFAVIV because the program has done so much for her.

I could listen, I could provide antibiotics for the infections, but what I couldn't do is offer them safety. To have so many people still living in tents with unsafe conditions 18 months after the quake is an affront to any sense of human decency. KOFAFIV is an amazing program, and I am proud that UUSC is a partner - but so much more needs to be done. The one promise I made to my patients is that they were not alone, and I would continue to tell their story so the world does not forget.

The following post was written on May 18 by Cheryl Inglis, a registered nurse and participant on UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti (May 15–20).

Our first day at the Association for the Promotion of Integral Family Healthcare (APROSIFA), we saw many children. Some came with their mothers. One boy came with a relative, and he cries every day for his mother, who has died. We give children's vitamins for all the children and vitamins for the nursing mothers. Most complaints are of stomachaches, headaches, and coughs.

All our verbal communication is through an interpreter, but the communication we make through our eyes and smiles speak so much more. It is so amazing to be able to reach out to these families who need so much. I hope the connections we make cross-culturally will all add up to future partnerships and improvements in their lives.

The last family we saw on Monday was a mother with her three daughters. The youngest was the patient with a cough. Her older sister, who is about six years old, had hugs and kisses for us. The oldest daughter has not spoken much for the last three years and has frequent headaches. This is most likely related to the trauma she has experienced. This family had to leave the camps due to violence, and now they have been told that they must leave the place they have been living in.

I held back my tears until after they left. The number of people in these same circumstances is overwhelming.

I feel blessed to be here with the UUSC team. Thanks to all my friends, members of my congregation, and hospital coworkers for their contributions. All that you have given is making a tremendous difference!

The following blog post was written by Jeanne Paule Noel, a nursing assistant and participant in UUSC's current medical trip to Haiti, May 15-20. Originally from Haiti, Noel shares her thoughts on returning to offer essential health care in support of UUSC's on-the-ground partners in Port-au-Prince.

I still can't believe I'm here doing what I always wanted to do. As a Haitian, I like to take pride in any positive experiences — that's why this trip is a little bit hard for me, because the stories that we are hearing from the patients are sad, devastating. In a way, I feel exposed because I see these stories as a whole instead of an individual.

I am so grateful for being here and offering my help to the ones that need it. Our team is made of some incredible people; they make this trip so much more pleasant. The first day I had the chance to work with the children, and today I was sent to assist with gynecological exams. We encountered many umbilical hernias, and the main diagnosis was worms, fever, stomachaches, and headaches.

Looking back into the eyes of these people, I realized that right when you think you have nothing, there's someone else who has zero. Some of these people had nothing, and the earthquake just made it worse. When I decided to be a nurse, doing work in other countries was my ultimate goal, and I'm so happy that I get to start in my native country.

The following post was written by Diane Bommer, a registered nurse and participant on UUSC’s current medical trip to Haiti (May 15–20).

Today was our first day at the Association for the Promotion of Integral Family Healthcare (APROSIFA), a UUSC partner since the earthquake. APROSIFA has been in Port-au-Prince for 18 years and has a nutrition program for children under 5, prenatal and pediatric clinics, family-planning services, and an art program for teenagers that helps them develop skills for self-support.

Five of us worked in the pediatric clinic, assessing and treating children for various problems, most commonly worms and upper respiratory infections, as well as stress-related problems. I was so glad we all brought meds, but we wished we had thought to bring infant-appropriate vitamins! It was so rewarding when I was able to get a child to smile or laugh. I commented to our translator about one of the mothers looking so sad; she replied, “That is the condition of Haitian women — often left to support her children alone with no ability to get a job and no hope.”

I am so glad to be part of this team and so proud of UUSC for being active, involved partners with this wonderful grassroots organization.

The following blog post was written by Tammy Webb, a physician assistant and participant on UUSC’s second medical trip to Haiti, which is taking place May 15–20. The medical professionals on the trip are working with UUSC partners to administer essential health care to Haitians in Port-au-Prince in a variety of clinical settings.

We drove through the obvious poverty in Port-au-Prince on roads that would probably not be considered passable in the United States. We arrived at the Association for the Promotion of Integral Family Healthcare (APROSIFA), where patients were already waiting. The staff people were very gracious. I spent the day seeing women with primarily OB/GYN complaints. With a registered  nurse, an interpreter, and myself in a very tiny room, we saw mostly pregnant women. For many of the women, who ranged from two to seven months pregnant, this was the only prenatal visit that they would receive.

In many ways, they were similar to the patients I see in the United States: anxious and nervous about their health and the health of their baby, scared about having a pelvic exam for the first time. The differences, though, were striking. These patients have no or limited opportunities for follow-up, and they have life stresses that are almost impossible to comprehend. Along with the nausea and vomiting caused by pregnancy, I saw a young pregnant woman who most likely has breast cancer, which has no treatment options here, and another woman with serious vaginal bleeding whom I had little to offer. But I was able to provide good prenatal care for many women and treat a number of illnesses that would have gone untreated. The women seemed truly grateful for the care. I was honored to be able to help even in a small way.

The following blog post was written by Holly Balsbaugh, a participant on UUSC's recent first medical trip to Haiti, April 11–16.

Having visited Haiti on previous medical trips, I felt reasonably prepared for this experience before I left. I had seen the lack of basic public services and the health effects that follow. I had watched both young and old struggle to survive. However, even on the drive from the airport, I could see this was a different Haiti. Tent cities and piles of rubble are scattered all around. There are scenes of destruction, garbage, pollution, U.N. militia with weapons.

Simultaneously, those scenes also reveal the brilliants colors of Haiti — in road signs, market life, clothes, art, and mothers and fathers caring for their children. I could feel the pulse of the music and the responsive urge to dance. Every Haitian has their own story to tell, about the earthquake, about their life in Haiti, about hunger, about their daily struggles, about the powers unknown that allow them to be a survivor of it all. 

So now, the question of how to make meaning, to find a way to make some connection between the stories heard and experiences there and my life here. These are contrasting worlds, not so very far apart in miles but lifetimes away in terms of experiences. There is a part of me that wishes for a life where day-to-day concerns focus on the essentials: eating and sleeping and finding work. But this imagined life would be a peaceful life — and life I saw in Port-au-Prince is not. There is no peace when you are wondering not what to eat, but if you will have food to eat; not if you will sleep, but rather if you will find a place to lay your weary body down; and not about how the next day at work will go, but hoping for any work, no matter how risky, so you will be able to buy some food for your hungry belly. This a world I have merely glimpsed and am forever changed by.