Lesson 2: Life in Haiti Is Music -- June 15, 2014

Lesson 2: Life in Haiti Is Music -- June 15, 2014

There is a rare stillness as I walk out of my room to greet the morning. I make my tea and step out on the front porch into soft light climbing down through the palm leaves, hearing that soft jungle music and roosters crowing. One of the boys is doing his chores, mopping the floor. He is dancing to music that I can’t hear. But I imagine it’s very upbeat…and his dance looks somewhat meringue-like. He notices me, smiles, says “bonjour madame”, and then goes back to his mopping dance. But it is not long before he is interrupted. 

Soulful, crying brass trumpets, trombones, and sax and slow booming drums like sad heartbeats reluctantly carry a swaying procession down the narrow dusty street in front of our house. All the kids in the house rush to the front gates to see the parade. The little ones do not understand… They are excited by the people and the music. Well-dressed mourners with long faces passionately sing as they flow in a river of tears with the one they have lost. For a few seconds, I met the eyes of the elder woman I think lost her love…a husband, a mother, a brother, a mother, a father, a sister, or a friend. Others hold her up as she walks. They keep moving forward, slow dancing with love and loss, and they keep singing into the distance. Like a slow burn, the music surges in front of us and then fades away.

Oh, but never fear, more music rushes in to take its place. I haven’t been in Haiti long, but I have come to realize that music and dancing are everywhere…from the beginning to the end…at home and around every street corner. The music here grounds itself in drums, as traditional Haitian music is deeply connected to sacred rhythms and patterns. Music is even traditionally used in healing here. And the dance the music inspires could be roots, hip hop, jazz, rara, ballet, Haitian meringue or something in between them all. It’s as if music is actually a main component of the air here, like oxygen. Here, you live and breathe it, and you can’t help but move to it and be moved by it.
Even as I am sitting on the grass rug on my floor writing this, looking out my door toward the front porch, all the kids are out there with their homemade bucket drums, tambourines, and shakers, playing along with popular dance songs on the radio. Music can be made using anything. And these kids hear music in everything. And they love to danse, danse, danse. They pull me into the drum circle whenever they get a chance… 

And I turn my head from where I sit to the window at the side of my room. I can see sunlight through the banana tree leaves, but I hear hymns sung in melodious yearning unison from the church across the street this Sunday morning. I don’t understand the words they sing, but I can feel what they mean.

It’s not but about 20 minutes later that I realize that there is a dance party going on in the kitchen. Madame Nicole is making a delicious Sunday dinner of chicken and rice. She is such a wonderful nanny. She dances as if no one is watching as she cooks at the stove and then turns flashing her infectious smile, waving her hands and her spoon, urging the kids to dance, too. They break out the mop and broom microphones. And then soon everyone is raising the roof in our kitchen discoteca.
So the beautiful and emotional soundtrack of life here in Haiti just continues to fill the air. And we dance onward to the music we make, to the music we hear, to the music we feel…

My First Lesson: What It Is Like to Be Ill and Seek Care in Haiti -- June 12, 2014

My First Lesson: What It Is Like to Be Ill and Seek Care in Haiti  -- June 12, 2014

And so this morning, I put everything on pause for an hour and went to the ocean for the saltwater cure…I needed it.

In all honesty, my first week in Haiti nearly brought me to my knees. When I was lying in bed with high fever, under a mosquito net, in high heat and humidity with no AC and in a place so far from the comforts of my home, my mantra was what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… And working to care for 8 kids, including two very ill little girls while sick oneself, is not something I would wish on anyone. But I think we’ve made it through the worst and are on the mend… finally!

As soon as my driver exited the airport in Port-au-Prince and we drove through the streets, it became apparent right away that the words “extreme public health and environmental crisis” are nowhere near strong enough to describe what is going on here. Mounds of plastic bottles and bags, trash, and sewage flow through the canals and clog the streets, where massive piles of concrete rubble sit in the places buildings once stood. Many people are bathing and washing clothes in these canals. I saw dead bodies lying sprawled in the gutters. There are 10 million people in this small country…and they are all spending their day selling their daily goods in these crowded and dirty streets to survive. Where D2C is located a couple of hours away in Cayes Jacmel, the same problems exist on a smaller scale. And my trial by fire in healthcare here continued…

So I was almost immediately thrust into knowing what it is like to have sick kids and to be sick here. Two of the girls were coughing and running high fevers. We took them to the free Cuban clinic right around the corner from the house. The Cuban government offers aid through these free clinics and provides the doctors as well. I am so grateful to them for what they are doing here!! And though I don’t have photos of our experience, let me try to paint you a picture with words. These clinics are not what we are used to in the US. A dusty, trash-filled dirt road leads up to the clinic. There are outdoor patios with wooden benches where many very ill people wait for hours to be seen by a doctor. The floors and walls are a bit filthy and very aged. Flies buzz about as if something just died. The exam rooms are dank and dark with furniture decades old and falling apart. The girls had to have chest x-rays, and the machine looked like it might be from the 70s. People waiting look so hot, tired, and sick…sweat dripping, long faces, coughing, slow moving… So many very young pregnant girls sit waiting for care. I say “girls” because note that in Haiti, you do not become a woman until you have a child. In this place, I feel as if I should avoid touching anything at all, but then I must resign myself to the fact that I am in it…deep. And remember, I am coming at all of this from my American reality.

But I have to say, in all this darkness and despair, the Cuban doctors, nurses, and technicians were rays of bright light and hope. Yes, they seemed hardened by life and work here. They don’t wear gloves when giving injections, and don’t take all the precautions that we do in the US…because, quite frankly, there is no way it could be done here. They are using outdated equipment, but they make it work. They absolutely care, they know what they are doing, and again, they make it work. We waited, but we didn’t wait long. The order of things was very unclear to me, but did we receive faster service because of our skin color or nationality? I have my suspicions. In fact I recall waiting far longer for doctors in free clinics in Houston when I was a child, as there were times when my own parents could not afford health insurance. When we were finally seen by the Cuban doctors, they seemed almost as relieved to hear Amber and I speak Spanish as we were that we could communicate with them about the girl’s medical issues. I don’t know what I would do if they didn’t speak Spanish, since I speak little French and almost no Creole. They were amazing with the kids and had wonderful bedside manner. When we asked the seemingly young and stoic X-ray technician to explain this scary procedure to the girls, he seemed to warm up right away and did an amazing job of explaining it on their level in Creole and making it almost fun. Wow! Our poor sweet girls turned out to be quite ill and had to have injections at the clinic. They screamed and cried…one so much that she vomited all over me. Poor dear. They then went through several days of injections around the clock. But today, they are running and playing with all the other kids! I am grateful of that free clinic!

After the clinic, we had to take all of the prescriptions to the pharmacy. The pharmacies look like food trucks set up along the street, and of course they often don’t have what you are looking for. And so it is off to the next town in search. Finally, after a couple of days, we have everything we need.
So at first it was decided that I would give the injections, but thankfully, I didn’t have to. We have a visiting nurse who agreed to do it, coming over two times in the middle of each night and during the day to administer this medication. They would kick and scream, understandably, and none of us got much sleep. Through most of this, they were running high fevers, and felt so awful. Finally on the fourth day and near the last of the injections, the girls got tougher, egged on by the other kids to suck it up as we’d say in the US. Wow…going through that at age 3… Sigh.

During all this, I was so sick with high fever that I could hardly get out of bed and help sometimes. And so I am grateful for my Haitian staff who helped so much, including the older security guards who are like fathers to the kids. The staff members are simply amazing in the care and love they provide for these kids! We also had to institute new house rules to further improve hygiene and the children’s understanding of its importance. Each kid now has his or her own drinking cup and was taught to wash it in bleach water after each use. They were all lectured on why they do not share utensils when eating and about coughing into their elbows as well as washing their hands after using the bathroom.

With all the challenges of this week came great opportunity for all of us to learn, grow, and instill public health knowledge in these children, who are Haiti’s future. I have learned there are people working tirelessly to do what they can to improve health here, but they need help.
And so, it is just a week after my arrival, and I am not feeling 100 percent, but this morning, I summoned the energy to make my way to the ocean…to breathe for a minute and find healing in the saltwater. It is my hope that this weekend will find us all healthy and ready for a family beach day in the beautiful blue-green Caribe.

Nati

She just could not wait for me to finish my dinner so that she could show me the the full moon..."la luna es muy grande en el cielo...es bellísimo, Kira, es bellísimo, Kira, Kira!!!!..." It was my last night in Ostional, the remote and isolated village and beach on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica where I was volunteering in sea turtle conservation. She tugged at my arm and flashed that irresistible smile that I had come to know. I remember being that age, about 7 years old, and being that excited to show an adult something. The wait always seemed like forever. She and her mom had come by the place where I was staying that evening to say goodbye and because she just had to show me the full moon on her beach, Playa Ostional.

 

So, I stuffed one last forkful into my mouth, and she, her mom, their shepherd mix named Tequila, and I walked to down the short road in the darkness through the tiny, sleepy village to the beach. Her energy and passion were infectious. She could not wait to show me this moon. She is special. She seemed to quickly become my guide and protector. She warmly welcomed me into the classroom and told all the kids about me when I went to teach in the school, she corrected my Spanish without judgment and made me a better speaker, and she pulled nuts and fruits out of trees for me to try. She became my teacher, welcoming me with a huge heart into her world and her culture, and to her I extend endless gratitude.

 

 

We took our flip flops off and walked barefoot on the cool, soft sand, she between us, holding our hands and pulling us along. It was closer to low tide, so we had a long walk before reaching the water. Then, we turned around and looked back over the rainforest at la luna bella. Pause. Breathe. Simple. Present. Beautiful. Breathe. She was proud of her beach. She pointed at the moon with a huge smile to make sure I saw it, even though it was lighting up the night like a blazing wildfire and sat in the sky like a stadium light turned on in a small dark bedroom. When she was sure I had taken it in, she danced and laughed and cartwheeled her way off into the distance in front of us...dog chasing after her. That beautiful moon was her gift to me.

 

I walked with her mom, who had been such a sweet friend to me from day 1. We walked slowly. We had nowhere to be and were a million miles from anywhere. Our conversation was short, as we simply enjoyed each other's company and the sweet night, without having to fill it with words.

 

It was not long before her daughter ran back to meet us. She begged her mom to play some music on her phone. And so we danced...in our own little world...an impromptu dance party in the brilliant moonlight on a deserted black sand beach as turtles crossed our path to nest and then return to the sea.

 

And so we danced.

What the Tide Dragged In: Too Many Plastic Toothbrushes

Plastic Toothbrushes Are Among the Drifts of Pollution Rolling in from the Ocean and Contaminating the Pacific Beaches in Costa Rica--Surfer's Paradise, Biodiversity Hotspot, and Important Nesting Area for Sea Turtles and Home to the Native People Who Depend on Them.

 

Plastic toothbrush stuck in the spot it was
found on Playa Ostional.
Most of the trash collected on these beaches is plastic.

Why do I keep this ridiculously large box filled with a colorful array of used and now seemingly useless plastic toothbrushes here in my home in Austin, Texas?

 

Well, I feel guilt about throwing them away, knowing that they will stay on Earth in our landfills forever. Ha! I envision this sacred box of toothbrushes, instead of fine dinnerware, being handed down through generations of my family as they wait for a "cure" to the plastic ill that will free them from this burdensome box of toothbrushes and stop the Earth from being overrun by toothbrushes.

 

I also keep them because I fear that they will find their way into our environment. I love surfing and do not want to surf in waters filled with trash, I and many family members have or have had cancer (cancer which may be partly the result of chemical exposure), and my beloved sea turtles, whales, and other marine sisters and brothers are turning up sick or dead with digestive systems full of plastic that they have ingested.

Olive Ridley sea turtle returns to the ocean after laying her eggs.

But what about prevention? What about stopping the madness and my collection of toothbrushes now? Recent statistics suggest that nearly half a billion toothbrushes end up in landfills every year in the United States alone...

I have put great effort into ending my use of any plastic, disposable products. But there are some things for which the alternatives seemed limited, expensive, or non-existent. I thought a plastic toothbrush was one of those things…kind of a necessary evil. The bristles inevitably wear. Sigh. I must continue to buy new toothbrushes to keep teeth in my mouth so that I can eat and have the energy to write all of this, perhaps boring you to tears. So, I have tried to breathe a second life into these old toothbrushes by using them for cleaning tight spaces and tile grout. Maybe I could create some 3D art with them? I will just carry this box of toothbrushes with me for the rest of my life, as crazy as that sounds...

About a year ago, when I first volunteered in Ostional, Costa Rica, for Estacion Biomarina Arribadas Ostional on a mission to do my part to save sea turtles, the plastic that I cleaned from the beach made a lasting impression on me. Why had that impression not been made years ago, when the fun summer weekends of my childhood and youth were spent on the beaches of the Texas Gulf Coast (Galveston, Port Aransas, and South Padre Island), or  in my early adult life, when I have traveled to beaches around the world, surfing and snorkeling? It's not because the plastic trash was non-existent... Is it perhaps because of the captivating beauty of this beach or some magical hold it has on me? I don’t know, but I became desperate to further reduce my use of plastic... I had to do something for this special place.

Turtle art made from plastic debris collected on Playa Ostional.
This turtle is made of many soda bottle caps. How many caps
have I discarded in my lifetime?

Almost all the trash I collected during that trip to Ostional had washed ashore, I think likely from faraway lands or a gyre of floating plastic. Almost all of it was plastic…bottle caps, soda and water bottles, water, shards of all colors and sizes, straws, combs, forks, spoons, motor oil containers, toys, cosmetics containers, and toothbrushes. Some of those toothbrushes had been in the ocean a long time. How could I tell? They were worn rough from tumbling in the sand and surf. They were on their way to contributing to the now prominent microplastics issue. 

I thought about all the toothbrushes we use in our lifetime, about how what I throw in the trash in land-locked Austin, Texas, can affect a stunning and remote place like Ostional, about how connected we all are, about how dependent I am (and all of us are, without even knowing it) on this little place called Ostional and how dependent their (the people and the turtles) lives are on my (our) actions. And I thought about my box of toothbrushes…

The bogobrush is made of bamboo and is compostable.

When I returned to my city life in Austin, I had an again renewed passion to reduce my disposable plastic consumption in the face of a mile-a-minute culture, my culture, addicted to getting it done faster than the blink of an eye, sometimes without thinking about the collateral damage. I started to do more research, thinking that an alternative to plastic toothbrushes must exist. It was in this search that I stumbled upon an article about Bogobrush, a US-based company that had literally just started up and seemed to be living it right, that makes compostable toothbrushes, and that has the conscience to match the purchase of each bogobrush by giving a bogobrush to a free community health charity in Detroit, Atlanta, or Minneapolis. The handles of these brushes are a work of bamboo art--simple and beautiful. When the bristles wear out, yank them out and compost the handle. I was so excited to find an alternative!! And I started to think about how I could introduce these toothbrushes in Costa Rica and draw attention to the plastic pollution challenge we all face through a small-scale public and environmental health education outreach program. The focus of my volunteer trip in 2014 would be plastic pollution, its effects on Ostional (the community, the sea turtles, and the overall public health), and steps we can all take to reduce plastic pollution in our oceans. I bought bogobrushes to take to the school in Ostional, and for each one I bought to take to Costa Rica for these kids, one brush was donated by Bogobrush to a charitable community health clinic in Detroit.

The primary school in Ostional.

The tiny, isolated village called Ostional that is nestled along a small part of the stretch of beach that is also one of the most important nesting beaches in the world for Olive Ridley sea turtles has both a small primary and secondary schoolhouse. The long off-road ride to place with a slower pace in the rainforest of Guanacaste is worth it. I felt honored to be invited into the schools with my plan to discuss dental hygiene with the younger students and to discuss dental hygiene/public health, environmental health, and sustainable living with the older students.

Kira teaches students in Ostional about dental hygiene and
sustainable toothbrushes

 

Using a howler monkey puppet named Roberto, some chattering teeth, and a bogobrush, I made a presentation about the importance of teeth, the importance of brushing, and how to brush teeth properly. In doing so, I worked with the students on the English pronunciations of words pertaining to the topic. The students also drew pictures of their favorite animals with teeth, and we talked about how the bogobrush is different from a plastic toothbrush. With the students in the secondary school, I discussed the more-complicated issues of public health and the plastic contamination of the world’s oceans. We discussed the importance of the use of sustainable products, instead of disposable plastic products. We discussed the effect of plastic pollution on the lives of sea turtles and other marine animals as well as the effect of microplastic contamination on the fish we eat and on public health. I brought bogobrushes for the students of both schools.

Kira teaching in Ostional's primary school.

These students understand the challenge of plastic pollution and climate change more than I realize and see it on the beach that is so important to the livelihood of their community...one of the only places in the world where the sea turtle egg harvest by locals is legal. They realize that they, their turtles, our turtles, and the rest of the world face the challenge of contaminated oceans. This small village is the frontline protection for one of the most important Olive Ridley sea turtle nesting beaches in the world. The community and some volunteers work to keep the beach clear of plastic, but they have little control of the plastics and microplastic pollution in the water. They also work to recycle their own trash and to repurpose things as much as possible. The beach cleanup is a constant battle, one that often has me on my hands and knees in the scorching sun, picking up shard after colorful shard and on the verge of tears when I look ahead of me to see trash that continues for miles. The local children also understand that their choices impact the turtles and this important beach.

Plastic that washed ashore at Playa Ostional.

 

This relatively deserted (except for the community and the relatively rare tourists) enchanting volcanic black sand beach with exquisite deep blue Pacific waves and many days that surfers willing to make the trek love, rivers with mangroves, tall palms, colorful birds and rocks, butterflies like confetti is brimming with life and still holds the beauty of a yet to be fully touched paradise. The colors are real as unreal as they seem. At night, it is complete darkness, with more stars than most US city dwellers will see in a lifetime...frosting the sky like billions of shimmering diamonds. Kick the sand, and bioluminescence sparkles in front of you. And watch closely for the shadowy movements of prehistoric relics…these mother turtles…dinosaurs that exit the sea to lay their eggs and then vanish back into the sea before your eyes.

 

One night, I watched a turtle mama rambling up the beach in a trance, building her nest, laying eggs, and then methodically stumbling out to sea, exhausted. I sat with one of our other volunteers in the darkness and watched in silence. It was elevating, spiritual, moving in a way words can never describe…as I find it to be each time I witness this. It brings me to the present moment. It is the way it has been nearly forever...they are survivors, starting small and mighty and ending large and unstoppable.

Olive Ridley turtle returning to the sea after
laying eggs.

She completed her entranced mission, pounded the sand over her eggs in the way they "dance", and utterly exhausted turned to re-enter her home in the sea. On her way toward the water, she met a large chunk of plastic debris head on. The plastic piece was about 10 inches by 5 inches by 5 inches…about the size of a half-gallon jug of milk sticking up in the sand. She stopped after hitting it with her snout and let out what sounded like a huge gasp or a sigh. She was finally able to push her body over that piece of plastic. The elevated feeling of the whole process seemed stolen for a few seconds… It was stolen by something that is in so many cases, less necessary in our lives than we allow ourselves to believe...plastic... 

Ostional is a shining example of harmony and balance and the struggle to maintain that balance between the people of the village, the ocean, the sea turtles, and the land--perhaps an attempt at a sustainable loop that we can all learn from. But plastic pollution and climate change are two challenges brought on mostly by other parts of the world that stand to disrupt that balance...one that is, I think, more important to us than we know. Our health is connected to the health of those people and those turtles, and vice versa. Changing our plastic-use habits stands to ease the burden on these people and turtles that stole my heart. I am certain they would tug at your heart, too. Move forward...realize the strong connection between public health and the health of our environment...consider changing one toothbrush at a time....




Ostional puts on a show at sunset every evening. I hope I never
get tired of watching the sunsets.

#Plasticpollution #Oceanconservation #seaturtles #Ostional #Costarica #Keepworldbeachesclean #Bogobrush #sustainableliving #Oliveridley #Leatherback #worldpublichealth #dentalhygiene #prevention #plastictoothbrushes #Detroit #microplasticpollution #puravida #environmentalhealth

By Kira Watkins, MS in Public Health Communication from Boston University, volunteer for Estacion Biomarina Arribadas Ostional (CR), writer, surfer, and sea turtle lover