The Azil: Morgan

When we left Cerca Carvajal this morning, we crammed two translators (Fiednel and Djamison), eight Americans and our amazing driver into one jeep and began the drive to Hinche.  35 minutes later we pulled into the orphanage here in Hinche.  Maison Fortune is a beautifully constructed space.  In fact, “Kathie 2” (Kathie Duo the Haitians call her) commented on its guest house being constructed like a resort.  We explored Hinche in our jeep, gallivanting around and stopping in at various clinics and co-ops. Our final stop left a lasting impression with me. 

The Azil is a hospice type building where each room is filled with beds for

malnourished Haitians, mostly young children.  I had no idea what was in store when I walked up the steps.  Upon entering we were greeted with twenty five or more cribs each filled with a small child under the age of five.  I was in awe.  We continued walking and continued to see more and more cribs.  It took me a good ten minutes to wrap my head around what was going on.  These children hadn’t done anything wrong.  They’re just as innocent and fun loving as the next; they were just not presented with the best opportunities.   Parents will drop off their children for as many as 2-3 months to allow them to become healthy under the nuns careful watch.  There is visiting on Monday for the children’s parents, but other than that they are completely alone.  We were told to hold the children, because they don’t receive much of that, considering there were so many of them and not half as many nuns.  It was heart breaking to say the least. Our group spent a good hour in the children’s rooms picking them up and trying to pull out one of their rare smiles.  Once we were pulled away from the adorable kids we went into another building, this one for adults.  The only difference was bigger beds.  We saw a boy when we first walked in who could have been anywhere from 10 to 15 years old.  His skin was stretched tight to his bones and his head looked too big for his body.  It was seeing in real life those pictures of malnourished kids people share on Facebook.

The irony here is after we left, we went to the super market. And bought Pringles. 

Seeing those children sitting there was painful for me and reading the other members of our group, it was for them too.   I knew that it was a problem, but seeing the real life effects on real life people was like a slap in the face.  Realization is something that has been hitting me a lot in Haiti.  The real life problems are just that: REAL.  Sometimes we get caught up in our American bubble where cell phones keep us from eating, but the reality is these people cannot afford to feed themselves, much less their children.