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In November 2009 Br. Jim Boynton, SJ, was missioned to northern Haiti to serve refugees through the Jesuit Foi et Joie school system. On January 12, a 7.4-magnitude earthquake devastated the capital city of Port-au-Prince 80 miles away. The next day, the Jesuit superior in the area sent Br. Jim an email saying, “I know that you have led medical brigades in the past . . . I want you to bring doctors immediately.”
Filled with fear and faith, Br. Jim connected with a group of Jesuit-educated former soldiers and health care professionals called Team Rubicon and headed into the heart of the crisis to serve the greatest needs. In this brief video, Br. Jim shares his story and his mission to help rebuild Haiti through education and service. You can read Br. Boynton's dispatches from Haiti here.
Please help Jesuit Ministries and relief efforts in Haiti. To make a donation on our secure server, please click here.
One of Br. Boynton’s primary influences was his uncle, Fr. William G. Goudreau, a Jesuit missionary who served his entire priestly life in the Patna Province of India. Fr. Goudreau died on June 20, 2010, at the age of 88. Click here to learn more.
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On January 12, 2010, a Magnitude 7.0 Earthquake Struck Haiti.
The capital city Port-au-Prince was devastated; more than 150,000 people are thought to have been killed; the exact number is unknown. A large number of people remain homeless; the danger of a human catastrophe lingers as the nation teeters on the brink of disease, starvation and anarchy. The Presidential palace, Parliament, Cathedral and many other important structures were destroyed, along with countless homes and businesses. The Jesuits are doing everything possible to assist in Haiti, and they solicit your help in this time of great need. |
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The need in Haiti is immediate:
food, water, shelter, and medicine are a priority, |
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Brother Jim Boynton's Reflections from Haiti
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June 29, 2010, Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul
A Typical Non-typical Day
While there has been no typical day for me since January 12th, things are no longer in emergency mode, and each day seems to build on the next. The following is a rundown of yesterday just to give an impression of what life is like here.
Yesterday morning, in their usual manner, the roosters started crowing at 4:30 a.m. By 5:00 a.m. sleep was no longer an option. I took my shower, read the latest New York Times news on my iPhone, read the Gospel readings of the day and went to morning mass. After grabbing some bread and peanut butter to go I headed across the street to the Foi et Joie compound to see what the day will bring. Ray Arana, a volunteer from Western Construction Systems in Oregon, already had the crew started. Our students have been working together for three months now ever since the H.E.A.R.T 9/11 volunteers first trained them in safe demolition. Since that time, working with Ray, they have learned cement repair, carpentry, much English, and a host of other skills. Currently we are working on the restoration of two Jesuit communities, one convent, and a school. Besides that we have built a number of prefabricated schools for the camps, and are in the process of building barracks for volunteers.
Last week a small group from H.E.A.R.T. 9/11 came down to check on our progress and help plan how we can work together in the future. With the small group we not only toured the projects where we are currently involved, but also visited some possible sites for future development. At one point we took them to a refugee camp known as Kolofe. Through our school there we have a great relationship with the community.
Bill Keegan , Johnson Darius and John Viola from H.E.A.R.T. 9/11 interacted with the kids, and before leaving gave out soccer balls and uniforms for the teachers to organize and distribute. The place is as about as poor as it gets on this earth; it’s also muddy and hot. The sad part is that this has come to seem normal to the students, and to me. Shortly afterwards we took our volunteers to the airport; that evening they would eat with their families in the States.
The afternoon was spent trying to procure building supplies and plan out bathroom facilities for our volunteer building. The sun cooks down on me as I walk around our facilities, but then I look up at our students putting a tin roof on the framed in building. They have it worse than I do. Eventually I learn that I will not be able to get the supplies I needed that afternoon because the large blue truck is occupied on another mission. That is fine with me. Ever since we hauled bodies in that truck after the earthquake I’ve never liked using it anyway. Late in the afternoon Ray asked me who was going to go and pick up our team working on the other side of town. I had let that item slip from my mind in my morning planning so I knew that I had to get another truck and go. Ray offered to come with me, and so together we headed out into the afternoon traffic jam of Port au Prince. In over an hour we covered what should have taken five minutes. Eventually we saw our team walking towards us, and in the busy traffic I did a U-turn and drove them back to our compound. After getting back we had our evening meal of rice and chicken. Around the Jesuit community table could be heard at least four languages as Jesuits and volunteers hashed over their day.
After dinner I went upstairs to unwind by playing my fiddle. One of the visiting Jesuits joined me in playing the guitar, and we passed the rest of our evening playing both secular and religious music. Bedtime, as waking time, is early, so after doing a short reflection on my day I crash into my bed and even the heat did not keep me from sleep.
Today, as I write this we started on a water project in a nearby community known as Balan. Hopefully by August they will finally have their water. I learned first-hand twice that we really need a first aid kit here at our work site. A doctor friend of mine said he would give us three this week. Ray made the guys redo much of the roof they had worked on yesterday (a half inch error on top throws the rest off a great deal) and the big blue truck broke down while hauling a load of sand. Again, there is no typical day here at Foi et Joie Haiti, but there is also no boring day. How I ended up at this time and place is a mystery to me, but so is the faith that brought me here. I thank God each day for guiding me, and giving me the support of family and friends back home that make all of our work here in Haiti possible.
- Brother Jim Boynton, SJ
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January 30, 2010
Not on the Street Tonight
Yesterday was the first time in my life that I had to get rid of a dead body.
Today was the first time in my life I had to get rid of a live one. Fee Fee was discharged from the hospital today; she has no home, family, or friends, appears to be in her 80' s, and is in full torso splint. We all knew that to put her on the street would mean death, and for some reason all the nursing staff decided she was my responsibility. After feeling helpless for a few minutes we loaded her into the back of a tap tap truck, and I had our driver take us on a wild ride that eventually ended at the missionaries of charity's convent. Fee Fee is not on the street tonight. - Brother Jim Boynton, SJ |
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January 28, 2010
Waiting for Surgery
Every day we hear the common story of people who want us to hire them for translators, workers, or anything possible. Most of this large city is homeless, without work, and in grief. The tent cities everywhere are improving in some ways, and deteriorating in others. After driving through the city several times today I became aware of just how long the rebuilding process is going to take.
There are now many medical teams in town, and most of the wounds we see have at least been treated one time. Much of what we are now doing in the city is badly needed follow-up work. Wounds once treated are getting infected, and people are now starting to report the problems associated with living in their new conditions.
One of our doctors heard about a wounded girl, and another wounded father, mother, and son. All of them were about an hour and half outside the city and were in need of surgery. We took our truck to go out and transport them to the hospital were our surgeons were working. All this week I have often smiled at doctors who have told me to tell a person to keep a wound elevated and clean, or to take a medication three times a day with food. Of course none of this is possible to a person living on the street with no food. Today after arriving at the hospital I told the people to get out of the car and follow me to the registration area. The little boy did not follow me, and I thought he did not understand. After repeating myself in my clearest Creole, he still sat there looking at me. Of course he could not walk. I realized my mistake, walked over to him and carried him through a gate and down to an empty tent where he will spend the night waiting for surgery. In carrying him I saw every little child in my past who had captured my heart. I saw Darren, Dennis, Dean, Maria, David, Tommy, Mark and Amanda. I saw Lily, Michael, Edward, Thomas and Anna. I saw 14-year-old Jeffry Duck, Billy Q., Martin and Chris. What happened here almost two weeks ago was an Earthquake, not a Haiti shake, and that little boy was not just Wilenson, but every kid I have ever known. - Brother Jim Boynton, SJ |
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January 28, 2010
The Rabbits Are Wild Now
When I was here in November the rabbits were in cages and received food and water every day. Other than perhaps ending up in a stew pot once in awhile, they had no worries. After their cages were destroyed in the earthquake they would huddle together and were easily caught. They now run around, find their own food, and seem to have forgotten their old life.
Yesterday I met two cousins who had lost their entire family. The girls were roughly 12 years old and about two weeks ago their lives changed drastically. In talking with them they were so focused on the present that they seemed to have forgotten their past life. Like the rabbits they have no home and get their own food. - Brother Jim Boynton, SJ |
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January 24, 2010
The Usual Wounds
Today started out as any other day this week. We went to our site, found the wounded and set up camp. The usual wounds and the usual infections were there. NPR visited us so maybe you'll be able to hear about it on the radio. Three things stick out in my mind today, the cases of diarrhea, the orphan, and the transportation of patients.
Diarrhea is now starting to take over the camps. Many many mothers came in with their babies, and adults came in as well. We offered them water with sugar and salt. There was little else we could do. My guess is that soon the entire camps will be infected. We also saw a case of conjunctivitis, which as any school teacher can tell you spreads quickly. To this point my previous third world experience has shown me that a child can be playing one day, get diarrhea the next, and be dead the following day. As we were leaving the camp I noticed a number of children playing. What is in store for three days from now?
While we were seeing patients a taxi driver came up to us with a small boy. He told me that the boy's entire family was killed in the quake, and that he had latched onto him for the past week. The driver was nice, but had three children of his own and could no longer afford the small boy. I flagged down a couple from the Dominican Republic and convinced them to take him home for one month. From there I will try to put them in contact with the Jesuits in Santo Domingo to see where we can go from there.
Finally, our Neurosurgeon told us today that there are three of the worst wounded people in town who are at a clinic and needed to get to surgery. We had no way to transport them and did not know what to do. At that moment someone noticed a large flatbed truck with the front window broken out. When I asked who owned the truck I had to laugh... it belongs to Fe y Alegria, the school I work for. In essence, it was my truck! We drove to the clinic, found the patients and transported them. They will never walk again, but they will live. - Brother Jim Boynton, SJ |
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January 23, 2010
How Much Can One Person Take?
How much can one person take? Today after one week here we are still seeing seriously wounded people who have yet to see a doctor. We are seeing tent cities that have 1000’s of people living in a crowded space with no water, food, or sanitary conditions. On one level life continues, but on another level it will never be the same. 10 minutes ago I translated for a young boy who barely spoke. His head was soft as a rotten pumpkin, and his leg was infected. His grandfather brought him to the Jesuit compound because he knew there were doctors here. No one else in his family could take him because they are all dead. Today was the first day the grandfather found his grandson, and today was the first time the boy saw a doctor.
Earlier today with our team we drove to a location that a boy scout told us about yesterday. Again, 1000’s of people living under sheets in conditions that would be unheard of for an American pet. One woman of about 60 years old had infected wounds in her legs that allowed me to see the bones. Our doctors dressed the wounds and she bravely endured and hour long ordeal of scraping and removing flesh. I held her, we prayed, and I listened to her scream. To keep her mind off the pain I started singing the few songs in Creole that I know. A crowd formed and joined in with me. We all sang at the top of our lungs to keep the poor women distracted from the tremendous pain. She cried, held on tight, and sang. When it was over she said she will never forget us. When it was over she went back to living under the stars in a crowded park with open sewage.
We went to another park as well. Amputees, infected wounds, and dehydrated people came rushing to our medical station. They wanted water, food, and medical help. We offered limited medical help, but they were happy we came and asked us to come back tomorrow. Tonight we heard about another location that has even more need.... 8 days without a doctor. We will go to the new location most likely, abandoning the people we saw today. The space in our tap-tap is limited, and our team is getting to the point that unless you have something clear to offer we can not support your presence. Today Jake had to let go one of our translators. He now has lost his temporary job, and the friends he thought he had made. Our team will be better without him; he will sleep on the street.
The parks are full and every doctor on our team is worried about an epidemic breaking out. I took one of them to speak to the US military personnel we had already met at the General Hospital. Our doctors explained the situation. The US military was sympathetic to our request, and understood the problem. They asked a simple question... if they were to get port-o-potties installed where would they empty them? We had no response.
Twice today in the tap-tap I broke down and cried. I’m not embarrassed anymore to do that. Everyone on our team understands that reaction. My guess is most have done that as well. I ask myself how much of this can I take? Why can’t August be here already when I can go home and swim with my niece and nephews in a Michigan lake. Why can’t I see children other than those who want only a drink of water, or parents who are not grieving their dead children, buildings that are not a pile of rubble, or elderly who have the comfort my parents have and deserve? But then I stop and reflect... I will see all this again. My future is secure no matter how long I spend in this country. My family is not dead, and even though this is the first time in my life that I have not one cent to my name I know my present and my future will be productive. How much can one person take? I have hope, faith, and love, and therefore can take much much more. My prayer is that as noble as these people are they do not lose their hope, faith, and love. To this point I do not believe they have. To this point they continue their lives putting up with much more than I am. How much can one person take? How much can Haiti take? So far the answer is more than most people could ever imagine. - Brother Jim Boynton, SJ |
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