Dealing with digital loss: The risks of digitizing your life

280 Gigabytes of my life died this week.

My photos from Europe. My medical mission work in Haiti. Vivienne's puppy photos. Even my journalism portfolio, buried in a cold plastic brick. Stuck inside the useless Western Digital HD, and breaking warranty is the only way to possibly retrieve them. The Geek Squad quoted me at roughly $800 for data recovery that wasn't guaranteed, which is impossible to afford as a student.

Vivienne, my 1.5-year-old German shepherd, happily rolls for a belly rub while
I mourn the loss of my external hard drive, containing all my photos from the past 5 years.

The photos were the most devastating loss. I never expected the backup of my old computer to go kaput, especially as I finally finished clearing my personal data in preparation for recycling. The old laptop has crashed multiple times in the past, and recently has been struggling to boot and shutting off randomly. The external hard drive, I rationalized, was peace of mind for my failing computer.

If all else failed, I'd have my important documents and pictures stored away in a tiny, expensive cave of plastic.

Wrong.

I'm glad I'm no longer seeking a journalism career, because most of my clips (including a broadcast assignment that was due this week), are gone. I never dropped the darn thing, safely ejected each use, and had used it the day before its demise.

The sole survivors are the articles published online, stored in Google docs, and the handful of personal photos I uploaded to Facebook.

I cried. As I've been so relieved to rid my life of material clutter, why was this digital loss so heart wrenching?

First, let's backtrack to several months ago, when I decided to digitize my paper "clutter." After hours of deliberation, I selected the files I wanted to preserve and trashed the others. I scanned all the important physical documents (excluding tax forms), and trashed them once they had a digital counterpart.

 Every photo and document on my hard drive was a result of meticulous paring down of both paper and digital clutter in preparation for the "move" to a new, reliable laptop.

I am, for the first time in my dedication to paring down, feeling a sense of heaviness rather than lightness. Perhaps this is where my journey to minimalism dances at my personal boundaries -- after all, minimalism is merely living with what each individual deems enough, and nothing more. If my house was burning down, and I could only take what was most important with me, I'd grab my German shepherd Vivienne and that external hard drive.

So is it worth digitizing everything? Yes. But perhaps online-based storage resources like The Cloud and Google docs are much more reliable than external HDs. But if you choose, like me, to rid yourself of the material paper and photos and preserve them in bits and bytes, digital loss is a devastating risk of the modern minimalist.

Minimalist Guide to Studying: 6 Tips to Simplify and De-stress

Before my last organic chemistry exam, my kitchen table was flooded with notes. With all that clutter, I wasted time flipping through haphazard piles and cross-referencing notes online. Plus, I went through 20 pages of scratch paper doing practice problems.

Sound familiar?

Vivienne, my 1.5 year-old German shepherd, snoozes while I work on homework
I have recently been cutting back on paper clutter and investigating effective,
sustainable and minimalist study habits

With some consolidation and simple planning, you can simplify your academic routine. Here are some tips for college and graduate students on how save time, money and study more effectively.

A minimalist approach:

1. Clear your workspace.
Physical clutter is distracting. Before you sit down to study at your desk or workspace, clear off all those stray papers, books and supplies. Wipe down any gunk left behind. It's more inviting to start with a clean, clear, fresh surface.

Know what environment optimizes your concentration. Facebook is for social networking, not studying, so log off immediately. If you don't have the self control, ask a trustworthy friend to change your password and keep it from you until your exam is over. Need white noise? Turn on an air filter to zone out any chatter from roommates, TV noise, or rowdy dogs. Study well to music? Choose something that will motivate and inspire you. Listening to classical music can improve concentration, memory and retention.

2. Reduce paper waste. 
Start taking notes on a laptop and digitize whenever possible. Save paper and money by halting mindless printing of notes and readings. Consolidate your digitized notes through applications like Evernote make note taking a breeze, and you can even digitally annotate important texts.

A lap-sized dry erase board is an excellent alternative to scratch paper. When I was taking intro organic chemistry and physics as a pre-med student, it was an excellent way to interact with the mechanisms and free-body diagrams. However, be cautious when purchasing dry erase markers and look for brands that are non-toxic and low-odor. Many claim to be non-toxic, but actually produce harmful neurotoxins. Do your research beforehand and make sure you're purchasing markers, like the refillable, recyclable AusPen, that don't harm your body or the environment.

There are plenty of affordable ultraportable computers that take up less space than a 5-subject notebook and weigh less than a paper-filled binder. Be sure to back up important files online through free services like google docs, or purchase an external hard drive. Kindles and e-readers are excellent ways to lighten your backpack and consolidate your textbooks, but you can also download e-reader applications to your computer to access them from your desktop.

3. Reduce mental clutter.
A recent breakup bothering you? Too stressed to focus? Clear your mind before diving into an intense study session. I usually try to meditate for a few minutes before starting, especially if I am feeling stressed or anxious. Be positive. Breath in deeply, straighten your spine, pull the crown of your head to the sky, and exhale any negative thoughts. Studies show negative thinking can harm your performance on exams.


4. Nourish your body and brain. For every hour you study, take a 10 minute study breaks and briefly review what you've been studying. Consume healthy snacks, like fresh fruit and veggies, to provide your body will the right fuel. Processed foods are low-grade fuel and can make you overeat, feel worse and more stressed. Your body deserves organic biofuel, not the toxic, preservative-laced GMOs that are found in most conventional junk foods. If you absolutely need a caffeine boost, skip the coffee, energy drinks and sodas, and instead opt for freshly-brewed organic green tea sans the sugar.

5. Sleep. Get 7-8 hours of sleep every night (although some specialists recommend 9-10 hours for teens and young adults), especially before an important exam. It's tempting to pull an all-nighter when you feel unprepared. I have stayed up all night countless times in my college career and drowned my body in caffeine. And you know what? It's not worth it. It may work a few times, but it's unhealthy in the long-term, makes you feel like crap all day, and takes days to recover. Sleeping ensures optimal learning and promotes better recall if you study before bedtime.

6. Don't procrastinate. I know, I know. This is where I constantly fall short. If you plan ahead and follow these steps before your test is just hours away, you'll be less stressed, happier and healthier. Not to mention you'll boost your retention by spreading out studying and gaining more time to just... enjoy.

Wardrobe Decluttering Challenge & Starting Over

Athena sits by the 66qt storage tub that will contain my entire wardrobe. I am challenging
myself to pare down my excess clothing and minimize possessions before I move cross-country.

I love the concept of starting over. Remember that first day of college, or moving to your first apartment? If you were like me, you had only a few possessions and a small suitcase of clothing, ready to be on your own.

With no debt, car payments and bills to pay, we were free.

Fast forward: I've accumulated a lot of junk and clutter since that first day in my freshman dorm, including some hefty loans from Sallie Mae. From outdated textbooks to University knickknacks, it's time to eliminate excess. In a few months, I will be graduating college and moving more than 2,000 miles from Louisiana to Washington for medical school. I will sell or give away anything that doesn't fit in the tiny trunk of my Acura, which will enable me to forgo extra moving expenses.



Why am I downsizing my stuff? To obtain financial freedom and freedom from material ties, travel lightly and sustainably, and live a healthier life.

In the journey to minimalism, we all have to start somewhere. As a reformed shopaholic, clothing has always been my kryptonite. There's no magic number I hope to reach, but I know I still have some serious downsizing to go.


 I've been paring down my wardrobe for several months now. I am only allowing myself a 66 qt tub (pictured above) to contain my wardrobe, and anything that doesn't make the cut will go to my local Goodwill.

Here is my Pre-moving Wardrobe Decluttering Challenge:


1. Get rid of the excess storage bins containing accessories, shoes, and seasonal wear. Get rid of half the contents and consolidate to dresser.

2. Get rid of the dresser. Declutter half the contents and consolidate to closet.

3. Get rid of half the clothes on coat hangers. Then get rid of all the hangers.

4. Pare down entire wardrobe to fit in 66qt tub.

5. Declutter more.

MINIMALISM  + DECLUTTERING = FREEDOM

We put so much time into cleaning, maintaining, buying and replacing our things. By decluttering your possessions, you can achieve the liberty and lightness of starting over.

Things won't make us happier in the long run. Experiences endure and fulfill. Things only weigh us down.

By pursuing a minimalist lifestyle and challenging yourself to posses only what you need and cherish, you can save money on packing and storing your possessions and become more conscious of how your stuff is preventing you from achieving freedom

10-Step Wardrobe Declutter for College Students

RETURN TO THRIFTY ROOTS

My mom and dad are frugal, and clothes beyond a couple shirts and a pair of jeans were considered luxuries growing up. My parents rarely shop for clothing and can fit their combined minimalist wardrobes in a small suitcase.

Though I admire my parents' thriftiness today, in junior high school, I pined for my friends' endless wardrobes and shopping sprees. Some refused to wear the same outfit twice, and I was caught up in the glamour of "new" after years of hand-me-downs.

As soon as I started earning money in high school, I rebelled by spending every single cent of my earnings on brand names and labels.

Puppies are very helpful when looking for ways to declutter clothing and hangers.
(Athena, German shepherd, 19 weeks)

I used to love shopping for new clothes. Retail therapy was my heroin.

I was driven by quantity over quality under the delusion that I needed choices in my closet. Rationalized needing another grey sweater or another pair of tennis shoes. I chased the trends. My consumption was anything but minimalist. It was a rush dumping my new purchases on my bed, often on super clearance at Nordstrom Rack or from Forever21.

But none of my clothes matched or even fit well. The clearance T-s shrank in the wash, the jeans sagged and gaped in all the wrong places. Most wouldn't survive the first washing, yet still found a place in my overflowing closet or stuffed in a dresser drawer. When I'd open my closet the next week, I'd again have "nothing" to wear.

Overconsumption. Then repeat. It's a cycle in which our culture thrives. But what are the implications?

SHOPPING INTO DEBT

Worse than having nothing flattering or matching that I could throw together without valuable morning minutes, my clothes were causing me financial turmoil. By my freshman year of college, I began over drafting my bank account as my food expenses competed with my trips to the TJ Maxx clearance racks. With a meager student-worker income, I was using student loans, money I was going to have to work hard and save to pay back after graduation, to support my shopping addiction and needed out.

PARING DOWN AND DRESSING WELL

Inspired by blogs like miss minimalist and her 10-item wardrobe and Courtney Carver's Project 333 from Be More With Less, I have been paring down on my wardrobe for several months. A total of 8 years of accumulation. At first, my decluttering efforts were painful and difficult as I faced my financial mistakes--did I really spend $60 on a blouse that I always returned to the hanger? $200 on that "investment" Anthropologie dress I wore once and didn't feel pretty in?

After countless trips to Goodwill and a costly wake up call, I am finally down to quality clothes I love.

By narrowing down my color palate to blues, browns, blacks and purples, I am aiming to create capsule wardrobe, where a minimal amount of quality pieces interchangeable mix and match.

If you declutter your wardrobe now, you can see and appreciate what you do wear, find what flatters you, save money by spending mindfully, and start dressing for success. Start here:

10-STEP WARDROBE DECLUTTER FOR COLLEGE STUDENTS


1. Get rid of anything you haven't worn in 3 months (even if it still has tags). You can overlook seasonal clothing for now, but be honest with yourself--are you really going to wear that lime green peacoat next fall? Chances are, you're not going to need the clothes you are saving for later as a college and graduate student. Plus, with less clothes, laundry day will be a breeze and you'll save money and time. Throw out anything with holes or stains, or recycle into a rag for cleaning. As a senior in college, I keep one business casual outfit and interview suit on hand for career fairs, interviews and internships. Any more than that is generally unneccesary for a college or graduate student.

2. Donate anything you don't have a specific occasion for. Gold sequined formal dress, I'm talking to you. Unless you're planning on wearing the outfit for an event. Get rid of any "maybes" or "just in case" items. You can borrow a formal dress or outfit if the need arises. If you're saving something for an event more than a year away, consider loaning it out to someone who can use it in the meantime and reclaim that precious closet space. You can also sell new and higher-ticket clothing items if you're willing to take the time to list it on Ebay, or a free service like Craigslist.

3. Do you love it? If the answer is "no," it needs to go. Toss anything you feel insecure in. Does it hurt you/ itch you/ make you feel icky? If you aren't comfortable wearing it all day and have to change, give it the boot. Do you feel frumpy in your sweatpants? Toss. Can't walk in those shoes for an extended period of time? Toss those wedges if they notoriously cause bloody blisters. They might fit someone else better, so don't hoard something someone else might need. To get over the pain of tossing out that precious spent cash, imagine the smile on a Goodwill customer's face when they discover it's perfect for them.

4. Declutter clothes that don't express your true identity. No one really cares what you wear. Stop dressing to be someone you're not. Stop dressing to impress people who aren't already impressed with your personality. In college or graduate school, most of us don't have the same wardrobe requirements as others with a 9-5 job, so consider the clothes that make you most comfortable while allowing you to look put together. Do you live in your University hoodies and sweats? Declutter those button-ups you never touch. Not a partier? Get rid of all those flirty tops and mini skirts unless you wear them regularly or can repurpose them for a more casual outfit. When I decluttered, I had heaps of tight-fitting outfits in case I ever went dancing or clubbing. (Turns out, I'm perfectly happy to go to the bar in jeans and a v-neck, which also happens to be my daily uniform. I'd rather walk my dog and read on a Friday night anyways!)

5. Count everything you have. So once you've done the first 4 decluttering steps, it's important to assess what you already have. Numbers can be enlightening. For example, if you know you have 5 good pairs of jeans, you'll be less likely to splurge on duplicates you don't need. Count every shirt, pair of shoes, and sweater in your closet and/ or dresser. Even count your socks.

6. If you buy something new, get rid of something else. Follow Leo Babauta's minimalist philosophy of one in, one out. If you still can't quit the shopping bug or need to replace an article in your wardrobe, you have to pare down on another. This prevents overflowing dresser drawers and an overflowing closet with nothing to wear.

7. Stay away from clearance racks to avoid the temptation of clothes you don't need. Of course if you need to replace an item, first go to your local thrift or second-hand clothes store for more sustainable shopping. I've found some gems at my local Goodwill. Only buy clearance if the item is good quality, flatters your body, and matches something you already have.

8. Shop mindfully. For your health and the environment, avoid cheap synthetic fabrics that are seeped in chemicals. Consider cost per wear and be willing to buy one quality item, such as a wool, cotton or cashmere sweater over multiple synthetic imitations in acrylic or rayon. Even better, when you have to buy new, purchase clothes made sustainably and locally out of organic fabrics. Be an informed consumer and look for "Made in USA" tags and be conscious of the companies that sell clothes made in sweat shops. When making clothing purchases, be sure to bring your own shopping bags and say no to plastic or paper.

9. Stop mindless consuming. I challenge you to be content with what you already have & "shop" your closet. Put yourself on a spending freeze until your pare down to your essentials. Pick your favorites and cut out the rest. When you start recognizing the pieces you love to wear and turn to every week, a decluttered closet will save you time and money because you'll be more content with what you have.

10. Build a capsule wardrobe. Only keep clothes that can be mixed and matched to create a variety of outfits and styles. The capsule wardrobe uses a handful of quality "key" pieces to build versatile looks. When you wear clothes that look great, you wont need to chase trends for fleeting complements--you'll always look put together. I have decluttered 80% of my wardrobe but am still seeking new opportunities to pare down and solidify the items that create my style and flatter my shape and skin tone. I love variety, and by creating a capsule wardrobe, most of my clothes match and can be dressed up or down depending on the accessories with a minimal amount of pieces.



Do you have any tips for building a minimalist wardrobe and decluttering? Please share in the comments section!

Sustainable, minimalist menstruation: Reduce waste and have a happier period

Disclaimer: This post is about that time of the month and not for the faint of heart. I believe women should reclaim and celebrate their menstruation, and this article is for frugal women looking for sustainable alternatives to conventional throw-away products.
***

Photo credit: Health Bitch Daily

POISONING OUR PERIODS

Menstruation for me has always been heavy and painful. After countless embarrassing tampon leaks, allergic reactions to pads and debilitating cramping, my periods were wearing me out.

Not only that, but I discovered that sanitary products are brimming with poison.


About 99% of convention tampons and pads contain toxic chemicals like chlorine-treated cotton/ rayon fibers that produce dioxins, a carcinogenic by-product leached by chlorine linked to breast and other cancers, birth defects and reproductive disorders.

Other ingredients include polysorbate 20, a mildly toxic chemical found in everything from food to cosmetics that has been linked to skin irritation (why would you put a skin irritant in something destined for your vagina? Ick!) and cancerous tumors in mice. Products labeled "fragrance" often contain phthalates, which are suspected hormone disruptors and banned in Europe.

Perhaps my irregular periods were also being influenced by the chemicals in my menstrual products. After I'd use them, they'd follow the trash to the landfill, creating more waste and chemical leaking.

Terrible for my body, harmful for the earth.

Here are some sustainable, healthy alternatives I love, perfect for women with a frugal budget. As a minimalist, it's important to minimize the toxins entering your body through food, clothing, your environment, medicine and sanitary products like tampons and toilet paper.

It may cost more short-term to purchase natural, organic products, but you're paying for long-term health benefits.

TAMPONS NO MORE: MENSTRUAL CUPS

My brand-new trusty Moon cup, size B, for a very happy, minimalist period.

I never have to buy a conventional tampon or pad again.


I have been using menstrual cups for about a year now and they are one of the best experiments I've tried in minimalism. They collect the fluid instead of absorbing it--check out this Wikipedia article on menstrual cups for a detailed run-down of how they work.


A menstrual cup typically costs $20-35 online, but pays for itself after a few months. It's made of medical grade silicon and can last several years with proper care.

I tried the more well-known Diva Cup that I bought with a coupon from Whole Foods, but lost it somewhere during my travels between Louisiana and Haiti. I recently purchased the Moon Cup, which I like much better and find more comfortable and protective than the Diva Cup.

I almost gave up menstrual cups after my first period trying the Diva Cup because there was definitely a learning curve. I struggled figuring out how to fold and insert without causing leaks or making a mess. In removal, I also had to learn to properly break the seal of the cup, otherwise was in lots of pain! Here's a video that helped me learn how to properly insert the cup.

It took me a few cycles before I was able to use the cup without leaks and mess, and now I won't ever go back. I can't even feel the cup when it's in place. Although I have abnormally heavy periods, I can go up to 12 hours without having to remove the Moon cup. Amazing stuff.

I think it's incredible seeing the changes in the cycle and the actual amount of fluid each period--something I never realized while using conventional pads and tampons. A woman loses an average of 3 tablespoons of blood each period.

ORGANIC COTTON WASHABLE PADS

Soft and comfy, these are my reusable organic cotton menstrual pads from Lohanstore.

For women who don't use tampons or prefer to mix-and-match tampons and pads, I would recommend trying reusable, washable organic cotton pads. I have always suffered from pad-induced rashes, but organic cotton pads are incredible soft and add less bulk than a conventional pad.

They're typically expensive, but sustainability pays off in the long run. When you think in terms of cost per use, they're a perfect, frugal alternative.

There are a bunch of great reusable organic cotton menstrual pads on Etsy that I'd recommend checking out. I love my organic pads from Loganstore--especially because they are low maintenance (just throw them in the laundry), and hang them in the sun to naturally bleach out any staining.

A HEALTHY UTERUS

Since you can reuse these producs, that means no tampons and pads in landfills! Bonus: There have never been any cases of Toxic Shock Syndrome (TSS) caused by menstrual cups since they were first patented in the 1930s.

Better for the environment and your health.

HERBS FOR THOUGHT

I have been drinking oat straw and raspberry leaf tea for several months in an attempt to regulate my periods as well as taking vitex and black cohosh supplements. These "women's herbs" have been used for centuries to regulate hormones and menstrual cycles, as well as improve fertility. More on that next time.

Let me know in the comments if you've tried any sustainable menstrual products. Happy menstruating!

Next stop, medical school

Four years from now, you can call me Dr. Piche. Seriously.  

I was accepted into Bastyr University's naturopathic medicine doctoral program, which starts mid-September. As I've continued to adopt a more minimalist lifestyle and non-toxic approach to food, my view on wellness has profoundly changed to celebrate non-invasive, natural therapies over the mass drug prescriptions that dominate conventional medicine.

 I'm sailing new waters: dreamy beach-view of the St. Marc Channel in Montrouis, Haiti.

Bastyr quickly replaced University of Texas as my top choice medical school, especially after discovering their dual-track program in naturopathic medicine and midwifery. My dream is to open a women's wellness center and offer a home birth/ natural birth practice as well as mother-newborn care. 

Back two years ago when I decided to pursue my original goals for medical school and OB/GYN specialization, I took a medical anthropology class at LSU called Medicine Body Power. It has been one of the most valuable classes I have taken as an undergraduate, because before then I hadn't ever studied conventional medicine and seen it for what it truly was -- a cultural medicine that operates for profit (Western medicine/ biomedicine). 

We studied complementary and alternative medicine, Chinese/oriental medicine, homeopathy and naturopathy among a variety of other forms of cultural medicine, and the desirability of biomedicine diminished.

As a minimalist woman devoted to effective, affordable preventative therapies and lifestyle change through nutrient dense foods and exercise, I was jaded after two years of working in the emergency room and wanted out. I didn't want to pump my patients' bodies with drugs to suppress symptoms. I wanted to heal, to treat the root of the disease, and to treat the whole person. But the options in Louisiana to pursue a career in natural medicine are slim. Naturopathic doctors cannot even obtain licensure in Louisiana!

My medical anthropology class launched an investigation into America's shady birthing industry, and the documentary The Business of Being Born was a revelation -- I could still deliver babies and heal women as a midwife and naturopathic doctor, without the toxic drugs and invasive, often unnecessary surgeries. When I found Bastyr's medical program, everything fell wonderfully into place. 

Don't get me wrong-- I have an immense amount of respect for biomedical doctors. In fact, after Bastyr, I am planning to attend a fast-track general practitioner MD program so I can practice natural and holistic medicine in the south. I just believe in many cases, biomedical treatment emphasizes symptom suppression over disease treatment and ignores the implications of poor lifestyle habits, especially because food is medicine. 

Fast forward: In only a few months, I'll be packing my trunk with all my possessions and moving 2,500 miles to Washington state. It's not easy going against the norm. But I found something I'm passionate about, and I'm willing to move cross-country and go horrendously into debt to follow that passion.

Weighing a baby at the mobile malnutrition clinic. Montrouis, Haiti.

I'll be graduating this summer with my degrees in mass communication and anthropology, so finally completing my pre-med prerequisites, landing an interview, and receiving my acceptance letter came in a delightful, life-changing whirlwind. Working at the medical clinic in Montrouis, Haiti this past summer was an incredible experience, and I plan to return better equipped with a solid education in primary care and general medicine, as well as training in natural birthing and midwifery.

The direction of my blog is changing after many months of downsizing and preparing for Bastyr. I hope I can share my latest endeavors in minimalism, medical school, and frugal green living, especially as I take on the challenge of moving with only the things that fit in the trunk of my car.

Photo blog: The hike to Capiat

Capiat is a mountain village scraping the clouds above Montrouis, Haiti. It's perched on an icy spring that bubbles like crystal, irrigating acres of vegetables and breadfruit trees.

Last Thursday, I made the 4-hour hike with a team of missionaries from Alabama. It was strenuous, but breathtaking.

Here's a photo blog of our journey up the mountains and into the mountain oasis.

It was perfect weather for a hike. We left at 10:30 am, as tropical storm Emily threatened to thrash Haiti's southern coast with heavy rainfall.

The sky in Montrouis was a delicious blue. We set out on a road steep road leading to Capiat.

Horses, donkeys and goats graze nearby, with no owners in sight. As I panted with the ascent, I fought the urge to try my luck at bareback riding.

After 45 minutes of hiking, we made it past the first village and onto a bridge with an amazing view. One of the missionary women took my photo -- hope you're happy, Ma!

Taking photos was an excellent way to chug water and catch our breath. The road took a sharp turn skyward after this point, the most tedious part of the hike.

As we climbed higher into the mountains, the coast reappeared and shimmered behind towering palms.

We reached some farmland on the outskirts of Capiat. My Keens were muddy and kept sliding off my feet as the road narrowed into a rough trail.

Nearing the summit, we walk through more irrigated farms and a new perspective on Haiti's coast.

We reached Capiat. Families gather along the cement constructed waterways directing the fresh water spring down the mountain.

Men and women gathered to wash clothing, bathe and socialize under breadfruit trees.

Children from Capiat poured out of the village to stare at our team of blancs and Canaan kids.

Whitney (left), me (center) and Rebecca, part of the Birmingham missionary group, cool off in the deliciously frigid mountain water.

The missionary women visiting Canaan posed before some of us (daringly) submerged ourselves in the icy oasis.

I was incredibly happy to have made it. Capiat mean't that the the rest was downhill from here...

The sky was getting dark and it started sprinkling. We decided to leave, fearing tropical storm Emily was finally done brooding in the ocean below Haiti.

We passed more horses and donkeys tied up next to the road, while little kids peeked out of small houses and called out for candy.

I was amazed at this donkey, weighed down but walking ahead of his master. Most of the time, I see donkeys refusing to budge while their owners whip them on the side of the road.

It was a relief following the road downhill after a strenuous ascent.

The rusting roof of a house peeks out from behind a cornfield. 

A tiny house is engulfed by the mountains.

From the mountains, we could see the tip of Gonave Island.

A stunning photo of the coast and the dazzling water of the Saint Marc Channel.

As we neared Canaan, more horses munched. As I once again considered a bareback ride to carry my tired body home, a man popped out of the bushes and startled me.

All signs of a storm disappeared, and in the last leg of the hike, we were able to see the distant Massif de la Selle (left) and Gonave Island (right) on the horizon.

As the Canaan kids and fellow missionaries made it back to Canaan in Montrouis, it felt amazing to be alive and exploring this beautiful country.

Thanks for hiking with me!

Foreigners at Pierre Payen Hospital: Mamba babies and medical specialists

Scuttling, scraping daggers on the tin roof. The rats are active again. The sound makes me cringe and uneasily eyeball the cracks in the cement walls of our tiny house.

It’s a cool, mournful evening after the first rain in a week.

I feel stressed out today—this week has a sense of urgency, especially as my time left in Haiti dwindles. The clinic is in serious need of an organizational overhaul, and not just for supplies and storage. The staff is incredibly busy, but without an administrator, it is not operating efficiently. I’m praying it will get better, because today reception turned away several sick babies and elderly people. The doctor was home in Port-au-Prince with a cold, leaving only two nurses to see all patients.

There is a team of American doctors and Canadian nurses visiting the hospital in Pierre Payen until Sunday, including a pediatric urologist and orthopedic surgeon.

Caroline and I have a lot of time to pay to Haitian waiting rooms.

We woke up earlier than usual to rally the moms of babies in the Medika Mamba program requiring extra medical care. It was hotter than ever, and even with the raspy air conditioning, the truck reeked of sweat.

I hardly notice the smell anymore, this pungent perfume of hot bodies. But today it made me pine for ice water and a swimming pool… And some Febreeze.

Perre Payen Hospital has a homey guesthouse and a large, well-constructed facility with high walls and breezy ventilation. Once we were admitted past the guard at the iron gates and thrust among waiting patients (some sitting, most standing, but all cramped in the hallway clutching their files), a nurse arrived to sort the babies to specialty doctors and therapists based on their needs.

The hospital examination rooms were roomy, but sparsely supplied, painted in the surprisingly antiseptic hue of yellowing newspaper. The orthopedic doctor had only an exam table, a wheelchair, basic orthopedic wraps and an x-ray machine. The urologist had an examination table and a packet of sterile gloves, seeing patients behind blue surgery drapes pinned above the doorway like flapping laundry.

The foreign staff walked fiercely from room to room, hair frizzed and sweat rolling. It was funny to watch them move while Haitians patiently waited, falling their faces with manila envelopes containing scribbles of their insides and histories of their pain. More than once, I was grabbed and asked to translate. I am sorry I had to refuse them. I am trying to hard to wrap my brain around Creole, even with my French language background.

James is a 13-month-old with an ectopic bladder. His condition requires multiple specialized surgeries to repair his bladder and reconstruct his genitalia. He lives in Sous Bogne, the little community below Canaan, and in a previous post I talked about my visit to his home with Katie my first week in Haiti. He has been rejected from two hospitals in the states already for lack of funding, especially because he will need a lot of recovery time and after care following his surgeries. As the pediatric urologist examined him, we were told nothing new… except that he is at the perfect age for surgery and that his condition is treatable. The doctor said it will be almost impossible to treat him in Haiti, and offered his contact information for his hospital in Nebraska.

Please pray that James’ surgery will be accepted and covered by this doctor’s hospital. He will need to stay in the states for a while, accompanied by someone from Canaan because it will take months for his mother’s birth certificate to be found in the Haitian national archives. James needs the surgery now, and Haitian time is slow time. I wanted to throw up my hands and scream when the doctor explained the specific microscopes her needed for an effective surgery and recovery.

Haiti doesn’t have this type of medical care readily available, especially not for babies in poverty.

A little girl, Gueraldine, has had severe joint malformations. She was discontinued from the Medika Mamba after failing to gain weight, but she’s still scrawny and malnourished. After she fell in February, her wrists began to jut abnormally, which was formerly diagnosed as untreated breaks.

The orthopedic surgeon who examined Gueraldine today gave some clarity—it’s a congenital condition, and the x-rays revealed missing bones in her hands and wrists. The doctor and physical therapist were able to mold her two removable splints out of casting. It was painful to watch the baby scream as they pushed her angular wrists into normal positions and wrapped them tightly. However, it was a relief to learn simple stretches the mother could perform to aid in proper growth and development. Plus, the baby doesn’t need extensive surgery, which was a relief to the mother and us—less letdowns and hoop jumping this way.

The Haitian doctor Jean Robert was expecting a pediatric cardiologist to be with the team of Americans, so the 5-year-old requiring heart surgery for her defect was turned away. She’s been waiting for 2 years now to see a pediatric cardiologist with the means to operate in Haiti. Unfortunately, the specialty equipment is difficult to come by, especially for short-term doctors and surgeons.

Since the team does have a general doctor to see all the patients that don’t fall into the available specialty categories, there’s another baby at Rousseau with a chest and lung malformation will still need to be looked at, although our hopes of specialist treatment are dashed. After the Mamba mobile clinic Wednesday, we’ll be bringing the mom and the x-rays we obtained in St. Marc to wait once again in Pierre Payen.

Waiting, waiting and more waiting. It’s so difficult for me to sit still and accept that this is how life rolls in Haiti.

People die waiting.

Caroline and I vented with M&Ms and danced the cha cha with some of the younger girls, Magdalena and Jessica. It was my first genuine smile of the day, besides entertaining the babies in the sticky hospital heat. Thank you to chocolate and my fiesty Haitian friends.

It’s only 8:30, but I want to just lie in bed and decompress. I need a massage, but I'll settle with some IB profen for now. The mosquitoes are munching.

Before the storm: Medika Mamba and mountain hikes

There’s a tropical storm, Emily, hours away from making landfall in Haiti. It could turn into a hurricane, so Canaan has been storing drinking water and positioning rain barrels and old oil drums to collect rainwater, and checking the cisterns for any leaks. 

I’ve taken clean water for granted. Water is a daily discussion at Canaan, and a few of the boys’ chore are solely to clean the water tanks and filter water for consumption. It’s a luxury to have drinkable water delivered straight to your faucets, or any water for that matter. In villages with a single well or water pump, women crowd with paint-crusted buckets and stained bleach jugs to catch precious drops, hauling them miles home on dry, fumy roads.

With all the work it takes, I am grateful for rain to fill our buckets for showers. And until then, I'm praying for the families living in the tents and shacks to weather the storm with ease.

Mamba is in full swing, and the past two days have been hectic with the missionary team and Mamba researchers from Georgia. I have sensed some of the Haitian mothers’ apprehension with the amount of Americans peeking in on exams, procedures and watching the rusty gears turn in our tiny rural clinic.

Each week, word of the Medika Mamba program spreads like pond ripples in the villages sprawling across Montrouis. I felt stressed as the new admissions to the malnourishment program crammed under the shade of sparse willows, packed in CESANOJE’s hallways and spilling into the consultation rooms.

We saw close to 50 patients and checked about 15 potential cases of malnourishment. I had my face between my knees with exhaustion in the heavy heat between patients, wondering how the mothers could bear waiting in the breezeless afternoon.

Some of the babies were shaking with hunger or thirst after waiting since 6 am for the consultation. One boy had a 104 fever and was crying feebly as I poured medicine down his throat, too weak to swallow.

It was difficult to feel enthusiastic when most of the babies seemed to be sick and loosing weight, or staying the same. Most of the babies graduate in six weeks or less, but out of all the enrolled babies, we had zero graduates Tuesday.

We did, however, readmit some of the children into the Mamba program— babies who graduated plump and vigorous 3 months ago, but now whittled back down to malnourishment.

Discouraging.

There’s a science to the Mamba. We can predict like clockwork—a well-researched bell curve—with how much weight babies should be gaining with proper feeding of the Medika Mamba. With my translator, Jennifer, I was able to demonstrate proper feeding (allowing small spoonfuls for the child to eat slowly, or mixing the thick Mamba with clean water) to help prevent vomiting with the babies. Many of the mothers had been force-feeding their child, and causing them to become ill and refuse the Mamba.

There were a couple patients who improved, and I did feel joy in giving mothers praise for their progress. Graduation from the program is a source of dignity and empowerment for the mothers as well—a contrast to the emotions of shame and avoidance we often see in those new to the program.

Malnourishment is as much disease as it is stigma.

Three women, public health researchers from Atlanta’s Moorhouse School of Medicine, interviewed mothers in the program to see if or how their breastfeeding habits changed when their malnourished babies were given Mamba to eat.

I’m really looking forward to their findings, although I was skeptical at first. Many of the babies are cared for by women other than the mothers, so we had to figure our which moms qualified for the study. In addition, many of the mothers had stopped lactating or stopped breastfeeding before the baby reached 6 months, when other foods can be introduced to supplement. This caused the malnourishment in the first place.

It’s awesome that Canaan will have a study that’s relevant and informative for others advocates of the Medika Mamba program to follow. I’m considering coming back for some research myself, focusing on the re-admissions to the Mamba program.

For the mobile Mamba clinic in Rousseau, I arrived with a nasty headache. I forgot my Excedrin at Canaan. One of the Haitian doctors, Dr. Guidson, saw me clutching my head and brought some migraine pills. I ended up sleeping, knees curled up to my nose, on a lopsided hospital bed while Caroline and Mis Joanne saw patients. With the tropical storm looming, many of the mothers stayed at home. My little power nap was magic, and I felt great around noon when the hospital closed, in time for the jarring drive back to Montrouis.

When Caroline and a couple visiting from Kansas City, Josh and Rachel, made our daily 2-hour hike up the mountains, we ran into groups of Haitians riding horses and carrying spades and shovels. A little girl followed us all the way back down, begging for candy and our (empty) water bottles.

A teenage boy attending English school in Montrouis asked me for my phone number, tagging behind me for the last 20-minute stretch of our hike. He was incredibly pushy, resolute and undeterred by my age. He’s the fifth Haitian male to ask me for my phone number, and wouldn’t accept no for an answer… even the fact that I don’t have a Haitian phone, and emptied my purse to prove it.

Perhaps it’s cultural for the men to approach a potential female interest with frustrating tenacity.

I can’t believe I have two weeks left in Haiti. Tonight I sat on the cistern at the top of Canaan’s hill—an enormous, panoramic view of Montrouis. It felt incredible to share prayers and stories with Americans conscious of Haiti’s needs and who share my love for this island. The team cooked cake and brownies for the Haitian staff, and we stayed late singing, playing guitar, and watching one of the babies, Marlucia, dance across the cafeteria table with every strum.

Rambling update: Beach bugs, graduation parties and swiveling hips

I'm rubbing red eyes as I type this blog, courtesy of my shower—a concoction of concrete cistern rainwater and a cap of bleach to sabotage microscopic vermin. There’s still no running water at Canaan since the second generator, the clinic's main power line, came to a sputtering halt last week. The big generator is still broken down, and all of Canaan has been operating sporadically from a small gasoline-powered generator.

Lack of running water has helped me appreciate every precious drop. Conservation is key. Thunderstorms have washed my laundry the past few nights, and that water has been preserved to flush the toilet and wash hands. There’s no such thing as single-use water, except perhaps for drinking.

The water business has hardly has put my spirits down. I feel so grateful to be in the company of my new Haitian friends. It's funny how living and eating together knits cultural gaps.

A team of 11 college-aged missionaries from Alabama arrived Saturday, two couples arrived Sunday, and three women conducting Mamba research arrived today, which has livened up Canaan with new faces.

With new arrivals, the Canaan kitchen has been running on almost constant generator power, which means meat and veggies have been added to the rice/beans/pasta repertoire. It's so nice to have refrigeration! The influx of variety has elevated my mood to an all-time high here.

What can I say; I'm a guiltless foodie.

Canaan spent all Saturday preparing for the high school graduation party of Rose May, a Canaanite who came at age 15 after living in domestic child slavery. She started her ABCs and plunged into English.

Just 7 years later at age 22, she was cheered by all of Canaan and her guests in her cap and gown, proudly clutching her high school diploma. I hope I can share more of her incredible story in a later post.

Caroline and I started off Sunday with an hour-long hike up the mountain behind Canaan. We passed a few families with babies enrolled in the malnutrition program, and women who I had talked to while taking vitals at the clinic. They called out to us like old friends.

It’s charming how the longer I’m here, the smaller this island becomes. Between the bustle of market and the serenity of the coast, there are welcoming faces and skinny limbs waving Bonjou. A walk a morning here does more for the soul than body.

Church was fun, despite the heat. One of the babies started fussing in the service, so I scooped him up and he immediately sank into sleep on my hip, drooling as his head slid onto my chest. Haitian church is vocal and active, and he miraculously dozed as my hips swiveled to hymns and the flies hummed.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that the orphanage kids love Justin Bieber with ferocity. I left my iPod unmanned on a cafeteria table, and before I could say "baby," a feisty 13-year-old Thadjina had scrolled down to the "J"s in her hunt for Justin Bieber songs.

While I don't have any Biebs in my iTunes library, I did have a song my brother Justin wrote after a rough break-up. The table filled with preteen girls who picked up the chorus of his song after a few refrains, entranced by the fact my brother was an artiste with the Biebs' namesake! The girls demanded to see photos of him, and once I showed a picture of my twin with long, side-swooped hair, they unanimously agreed he looked like Justin Bieber.

Whenever I see Thadjina, she'll sing me part of the song, "How could you be like that?" and giggle like it's our private joke. 

Hear that bro? If my iPod circulates anymore, you're on your way to becoming a new heartthrob.


We went with the Alabama team and a truckload of Canaan kids to a private beach just outside of Montrouis. The water was absolutely delicious and boyant --a summary of this past weekend at Canaan. 


However, while I sucked the salty nectar through my pores and thought how lucky I am to be in Haiti, I was stung by a tiny jellyfish-like water bug on my chest. Robin and a few of the others were stung -- apparently the beasts multiply when it rains. I still have a painful rash trailing a couple inches on my breast. 

There’s been plenty to celebrate. Tonight was Caroline’s birthday, and we had a great night at one of Montrouis’ resorts—Moulin Sur Mer. It was great to decompress after another day of thorough clinic cleaning and chipping away at the massive inventory project I started 3 weeks ago.

I feel blessed and ready to sleep.