Year's End

In less than four hours, 2009 will become but a memory (to use the melodramatic albeit beautiful cliche). It somehow doesn't seem real. I remember fighting to stay up till midnight in 1999 (my whole family was battling a nasty post-Christmas bug that year), toasting with bleary eyes and sparkling cider (or was it milk?), and heading to bed. It doesn't seem a decade ago. And to look back, I was 12 at the time, in junior high...I've come a long way since then, no? We all have.

In many ways, I am sorry to see 2009 conclude. The year was surreal in so many ways, incredible in many others, and also challenging. I began the year with some of my best friends in Massachusetts, outrunning snowstorms. I immediately traipsed to NY, interviewed at a medical school, and cemented a friendship with an amazing woman that has since been a stabilizing and powerful part of my life. It's a sign of the year to come. Including airports, I was in at least 13 states. I was gone half the weekends of the semester and flew somewhere nine months of the year. I presented my own research at a conference. I interviewed at four medical schools (one was in 2008), was accepted to four and in the upper half of the wait list at the fifth. I graduated valedictorian of my class (which still seems like a dream, seven months later). I was in Hawaii, Cambodia, and Trinidad. I've seen things and met people who have substantially changed my life. I am so blessed.

Although the year started out amidst incredible uncertainty and tremendous academic challenges, on Easter a dream became a reality, and I have been living that dream ever since. I am so grateful to have been able to see just how much love and support I have from so many people--I know most aren't afforded that gift. It's so exciting to think what 2010 has in store for me. I will spend more than half the year finishing my time in Trinidad, and who knows what more growth and challenges will come out of that. And in August, I start medical school so that I can truly do what I love for the rest of my life, and maybe even change the world. I know at this point next year though, it will be I laughing at how the world changed me (thank you Dar Williams for the line). It will be incredible, and heartbreaking, challenging, and inspiring. Bring it on!

Christmas in Trinidad

This year marked my first Christmas away from home, and also my first Christmas in Trinidad. It was a little sad to be away from my family, and it certainly did not feel like Christmas with 85' weather, palm trees and no snow, but Christmas in Trinidad was beautiful all the same, and it reminded me how blessed I am to have so many people who care for me.

There are lights for Christmas, red and green, decorations. Most trees are fake (there is rather a shortage of evergreens in the tropics), but most families at least have a small one. Many begin to display immediately after October's Hindu festival of Divali (and as Rishi told me once, there are Hindu houses that use the lights straight through from Divali to Christmas). I stumbled upon carolers one evening while walking, a group of men, women, and children with a guitar. They left me smiling. Like in the US, turkey and ham are staples of Christmas dinner. Pastilles are another, like Mexican tamales, corn-batter surrounding chicken or pork (or vegetables...), wrapped in banana leaves and boiled. Fruitcake is another, and I've been told it really does last all year, provided you regularly douse it with cherry wine. Parang is Trini Christmas music, from the Spanish/Venezuelan influence. It is a Spanish music (now often infused with soca, which I'd try to describe but really wouldn't do justice; if you're curious, I'd recommend google), and to most Trinis, signifies Christmas. Nonprofits and clubs host parangs to raise money or gather people. South AIDS Support had one; I enjoyed it and would have more had I not been on my first day of the flu.

I had a quiet Christmas morning. I went for a walk; strangers were the first to whom I wished a Merry Christmas. Vidya came up quickly to drop a gift and give season's greetings. I talked to my family in the States and texted friends in both Trinidad and the US. And at 11:30, my friends Cindy and Patsy came to pick me up. I spent Christmas with my Trini family--Dominic, Annie, and Paul Dos Santos. The day held no exceptional stories or brilliant moments, but it was a lovely, lovely day. A few other couples from church came by. Annie cooked a fantastic dinner (and bless her, she cooked fish for me because I wouldn't eat the chicken or pork, and got me a single vegetarian pastille). We watched 2012 and had beautiful conversations. Most importantly, I felt at home and very loved. I am grateful to them all and for a first Christmas abroad I will treasure.

Saturday was Boxing Day--a British holiday, but since Trinidad was a Brisitsh colony once and loves to celebrate, now also a Trini holiday. Typically, Trinis stay home with family for Christmas and visit relatives and friends for Boxing Day. Fortunately, I have lots of friends and as such had much to do. I spent the morning with my "boss" (in quotes because technically, I don't work for anyone with my grant), who cooked me breakfast (consisting of a fruit and vegetable salad, fresh-squeezed orange juice, steamed fish, garlic bread, and fruit cake). I then spent the day with the Dimsoy family, my second Trini family. Kenneth and Denise are the parents, wonderfully warm human beings, and their kids are Tracey (18), Danielle (17), Nicolas (14) and Joelle (10). We went to the country (a beautiful inland area with short trees andw ide open spaces) to visit Kenneth's family, his wonderfully spry and very mobile 84-year-old father and 75-year old mother with a beautiful smile, as well as his brothers. Again, it was not so much a single moment, but a general feeling of being at home and loved that made the day special. Of course, I will treasure memories of walking with Kenneth, Joelle, and the lovely puppy Bubbles, and being constantly fed (our alcoholic dessert was rum raisin ice crean and fruitcake), and going back to the Dimsoys and playing a game with the family.

I am blessed to have an incredible (and large) family in Trinidad, nine brothers in Cambodia, and a wonderful, supportive family in the US. I am spending the week and into the new year in the States, visiting family and friends. This is a beautiful world. Thanks for listening, and Merry Christmas! :)

What I Love

Trinidadians, as a whole. They are warm and friendly, and so many wish me a good morning as I pass. While I didn't get many lunch offers until people got to know me a little more (now I always have a few asking what I am doing after Sunday worship), nearly every person I've met has been friendly and welcoming, making sure I am doing all right, asking about my work. It's beautiful and has helped my transition from uncertain foreigner to one who feels at home, who feels it strange that she's only been here three months because things seem so familiar.

My work. As if I haven't said enough about it yet--I am living my dream, doing exactly what I'd hoped to do. It's really close to perfect, because I get to do a bit of medical work and help the doctors, but really all I am here to do is talk to people, so I really get to know them, and they me. I had a wonderful conversation earlier with a practical nurse, and love to do the HIV test counseling because it always results in the most amazing conversations about life. Here is a safe space; people are comfortable and open here, whereas they may not always be, and it's a privilege to provide.

The children. Vidya had her Christmas treat yesterday, and although I spent much of it running around and doing various things (including making two gift runs and alleviating a near-fiasco with a lack of Santa), I loved watching the kids. One girl is ten and lives at the home in Chaguanas. Her name is Priya; she is ten, likes math, wants to be a vet, and gave me a tremendous hug when I left. On Saturday, I went to a going-away/Christmas party for Dr. Terhi from clinic, and immediately became a favorite of her three-year-old daughter Amanda and a neighbor, Mila. And Friday night, at a dinner, my companions were 10-year-old Joelle from church and her 8-year-old friend Mareka, who struck me as very smart and well-spoken for someone her age. I mean, how many 8-year-olds will tell you someone is getting her DNA all over the gummy bears? And one girl, a six year old clinic patient, drew me a picture of Winnie the Pooh and told me to put it on my wall, which of course I did.

Trini English. It sounds like a combination of British English and translated English, which if you look at the country's history, it probably is. They drop the verb "to be" from sentences often (saying "I gone" or "I going" etc). Vexed is a favorite phrase, and much more fun than it's American equivalent of "pissed off." And you "carry" people places instead of bring them. I love it.

Trini food. Roti is most popular--a fried flat bread, which is quite good, especially with potatoes, pumpkin, or channa (chickpeas). I haven't yet had doubles (which most people here are surprised at), which are similar to roti, but I will. I've had callaloo (an okra and I don't know what else soup...one woman from church makes it really well and it's delicious on rice), aloo pies (with potato), pelau (a rice dish), pastels, even oysters! My favorite though is sahina, which is fried spinach. That is incredible. I also am addicted to plantain chips, fried plantain (which I can make), and these cookies with cocoa centers.

The ocean. I see it on my way to work every morning, need to just step out the back door of the clinic to see it at work.

Rain. Single clouds are most often what rains, while it is blue sky and sunny everywhere else. In NH, we have spot showers. Here, spot downpours from these clouds. Although the rain is heavy and loud, sometimes they don't even dampen the ground they are so brief. About once a month too, there are spectacular arcing rainbows. If it rains all day though, it's often heavy for chunks at a time and not even an umbrella can save you.

I am so grateful for the experience, so happy to have seven months still left. Love to you all and thanks for listening :)

Making a Difference?

Last Tuesday was World AIDS Day. A holiday of sorts, yes, but nothing I have ever "celebrated" (remembered would probably be the best word) in the US. I think Marist had the AIDS quilt one year, but I never did have time to stop by and look at it in between classes, clubs, work, and the nine million other things I kept my hands in. I suppose there is no place more appropriate to spend your first World AIDS Day than in an HIV clinic in one of the most affected regions in the world. The morning was clinic as usual. No matter the day--Wednesday, Monday, World AIDS Day or Christmas Eve, there are still patients to see, medicines to be dispensed, blood to be drawn. Because most of the clinic staff was scurrying about making preparations for an afternoon of rapid testing on the Promenade, I was left to do half of the clerk's job (filing and making appointments), and to take all the bloods, plus my "normal" job of spreading the word about SAS. It was the afternoon that made it special, however. After finding the lab on the hill and delivering the rapid test reagents to the team, I decided to stay on the Promenade, handing out numbers for testing and talking to people about HIV and why being tested is important. Later, I also got a chance to do some post-test counseling, which I loved. It gave me a chance to sit down with individuals, and talk to them. Everyone has a different approach to being tested. Some just do it, and expect to be negative, but one woman was nearly in tears when I told her she was ok. When some young boys, maybe 16 (age is impossible to determine here; everyone looks 10 years younger than they are once they hit 30) or 17 came for results, I decided to ask them what they knew about HIV. I taught one how you get it (primarily from unprotected sex), and how you don't (kissing, sharing cups, shaking hands, etc)--and I felt like he really listened. I think I freaked another out a bit telling him how one can never be 100% sure of one's partner's status--but maybe now he'll be careful. I was flying for the rest of the week. I think, just maybe, I made a little bit of a difference that day.

Every day, working in the clinic energizes me. I get to talk to people, take bloods, hear stories, and just converse. I meet such a variety of people, too, and I have been here long enough to start recognizing faces when they return. One little girl today, about six and absolutely beautiful, kept me company for the better part of an hour this morning. I'd met her my first Tuesday here and discussed Winnie-the-Pooh stickers with her, and today she traced a drawing for me and told me to put it up on my wall, which I will when I come home. I love it because I feel useful. I feel like I am helping the staff and the doctors. And I hope I am helping the people too. I am certainly learning a lot, medically and personally.

A couple things to make you laugh. I am looking at a book on HIV from 2006, and taking notes on antiretroviral medications so I can learn (I feel like I know nothing about them)--their mechanisms of action, their names, everything. Clearly, I miss being in class :) (though I am enjoying the lack of homework that comes with this study!). And today, a woman was throwing up, and though I didn't watch, I didn't freak out either--which for those who know me, is a huge step for me. (ha!)

Love to you all! Thanks for listening :)

Thanksgiving in Trinidad

Yesterday was my first major holiday away from home, and also the first time I had hosted a major holiday myself, so it was difficult, exciting, and stressful all rolled into one. I certainly missed being with my family. On Thanksgiving at home, usually there is something like 30 people in my cousin's home in Western Massachusetts, and the day includes eating, laughter, and my 90-year-old grandmother playing the harmonica (last year we had four generations: my grandmother on the harmonica, my uncle playing the spoons, and my brother and my cousin's son playing guitar...quite a moment, really).

It didn't feel at all like Thanksgiving here. To begin with, it was something like 85 and sunny, which it is nearly every day. Green trees rustled in the slight breeze as I walked to Bamboo Junction to take a taxi to the clinic. I spent the morning (and a bit of the afternoon) in the clinic, dashing from place-to-place happily, pulling files, sticking needles in veins, smiling, talking, and handing out SAS brochures. The clinic day ended with Dr. Terhi (Finnish ID doctor who has been described by people here as a "white female rasta" because of her hair) and I (the two white girls) going into Ward 2 and taking the computer designated for use with HIV only but that hadn't yet made it to the clinic. At this point, it was 1:30, the time I had hoped to be home. I told people to come starting at 6. By the time I had made it through the grocery store, into a La Romaine taxi, and home, it was 2:30. I had less than four hours to cook everything and get things clean enough for nine people to come over. And so began an amazing cooking marathon. Somehow, by 6:10 (and my first two guests') arrival, I managed to get it all done.

The menu was marinated fish, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stove-top stuffing, corn bread (made by Dave) and mixed vegetables (made by Patsy), with pumpkin pie and chocolate cake (mostly in case the pumpkin pie didn't come out, since it was my first venture with a gas oven and also with real not canned pumpkin)). My guests were Dominic, Annie, and Paul, the family from church I had been initially connected to and who have been amazing to me (I love them dearly), Cindy (my ride to church) and her mom Patsy (also a lovely woman), Dave (a fellow Fulbrighter who is also helping out with a fund raiser tonight), and Vidya (my wonderful landlady) and her (beautiful and incredibly sweet) daughter Jaiya. It was an eclectic mix, but everyone got along wonderfully and seemed like they had a good time. Outside of the fish, all the food ended up very good as well--someone even complimented me on how fluffy the potatoes were (not bad for not having an electric mixer!). The problem with the fish was that I bought saltfish (highly preserved fish), and didn't realize that to really get the salt off, you had to rinse it and boil it, and I didn't have time to look for instructions or try it so it was wicked salty, to put it mildly. Still, overall definitely a success.

In light of Thanksgiving, I'd like to say some things for which I am grateful. If I were to list them all, we'd all be here hours, if not days. I'm grateful for life, for the friends and family I have who have been unconditional in their support. I'm grateful for my faith, because it makes me strong. I am grateful for the things that have happened, especially in the past year, that have changed me. I'm grateful to have seen what I did and met those I did in Cambodia; I will never forget. I am grateful to be in Trinidad now, and to really be living a dream. I'm grateful for the people here who have helped me create a home. I am grateful for the work in the clinic and the opportunities that have been given to me. I am grateful for my health and the health of those I love. I'm grateful for moments of beauty, the sea and the moon and light, for having air conditioning when I sleep, for animals (especially my little friend here, who crashed Thanksgiving till we ate and Vidya almost literally had to drag him (in fact, she carried him) next door), for rain. I am grateful for language, for diversity, for smiles. I am grateful for those little unexpected acts of kindness that really do change the world forever. And I am grateful for you, of course. Thanks for listening :)

Working at the Clinic

Sorry, I know I continue to be delinquent in letting you all know I am alive and well. I promise I am, and I continue to fall in love with Trinidad and with my work and the people here on a daily basis. It's still strange to know that November is coming to a close and it's still hot, and even stranger to know that for the first time, I will be home for neither Thanksgiving nor Christmas, but I am blessed to have many good friends here that will keep me from being lonely.

Last Monday, I started working at the Ward 2 Clinic at San Fernando General Hospital, which is the HIV clinic. Honestly, two weeks into being there, I am doing exactly what I'd hoped to do in Trinidad, something I'd come to believe was my being overly idealistic along the same vein as finding a cheap apartment with a terrace that overlooked the ocean. It wasn't. I started at the clinic because I am supposed to represent South AIDS Support. My job? To hand out brochures (they call them trifolds here, but I'm having a hard time following suit because when I think trifolds, I think of the large poster boards with wings, a la Dr. Ingalls' animal behavior poster day or any poster at any conference) on SAS, let people know about the meetings and simply that we exist. For research, I was just trying to get myself known there among the patients and staff so I could hand out surveys and arrange for interviews. I'm in a medical setting working with people. Until I can practice as a doctor, could it really be better for me?

My first week, I mostly just talked to people, which was incredibly beautiful. I was surprised at how easily people talked to me. I anticipated hesitency, especially since I am a young foreigner, but many talked openly about their experience with HIV. The stories are heartbreaking and the people, inspiring. For those who let the disease get them down, there are at least two who are determined to be stronger than it. A woman I met Wednesday possessed this incredible optimistic spirit; she inspired me. One thing I've learned is that HIV does not discriminate. It's something you read in the literature, but it's another thing entirely to experience it firsthand. I've seen children as young as 4 or 5 who are HIV-positive (and so beautiful!) and a man who is in his late 60s/early 70s HIV-positive (and showing signs of HIV- or age-related dementia). I've seen East Indians and Afro-Caribbeans and everyone in between. I've seen people who abused drugs, who had promiscuous sex, and who were 100% faithful to their partner. HIV affects everyone, and also changes everyone. Almost everyone has faced some sort of stigma and discrimination, and most have only told a small fraction of people they know. Still, almost every patient had at least fragments of hope and strength and we do all we can to foster that.

Last Friday, it was discovered that I could take blood on humans, so every time now there is bloodwork to be done, they ask me to do it. It's exciting, and I think my skills are already vastly improving. (Exciting for me, because I love this stuff...I know I'm crazy!) I also had a chance to sit in on pre-HIV-test and post-test counselling, and I'll just say that hearing the stories make real some of the things you read about in magazines and novels, and that has a profound impact. Donny, one of the nurses there, is helping me learn how to do the pre/post-test counselling. Already, I've found many ways to make myself useful--phelbotomist, file-clerk, unofficial greeter, and SAS rep. I love it. And even better, the staff has been wonderful in trying to help me. They spoke with Dr. Terhi, who is pretty much the only infectious disease doctor in South if not all of Trinidad, and she is excited to have someone excited to learn around, and promised to do all she could to help me learn from her. I sat in on a consult with a patient who needed to go to second-round antiretroviral therapy because first-round wasn't working, and I can already tell she will be a great teacher. (If anyone knows of any books on ART medications, let me know! I want to learn!) I'm so excited and can hardly believe it--I feel like I am living a dream.

Love, blessings, and peace to you all! Let me know how life is in the US! Happy Thanksgiving! Stay tuned and thanks for listening :)

Addendum

I realized I didn't really make it clear in my latest post, where I asked for help raising money for my friend and landlady Vidya to build her children's home. If you'd like to help, you can send me something to NH...16 Beebe Lane, Merrimack, NH 03054. I'll be coming home for a week right after Christmas and will be able to collect anything then. It would be easiest if writing a check if you could make it out to me, and then I will condense everything into one big check (that's certainly easier to travel with!), but if you'd like a receipt, I believe you could make the check out to V. Aguilar and as long as you're ok with waiting until I get back to Trinidad and mail it, you will have a receipt.

Also, if anyone has ideas as to how I can raise more money for her--really, I'm open to anything and everything--I'd really appreciate it! Thanks!