A New Hospital for La Gonave

Dear Friends,

Your time is precious so I’ll get right to it.  I have just learned of a significant, but brief opportunity to help put the fundraising over the top for the new hospital on the island of La Gonave. Lemon Aid, the Scottish charity behind the build, just informed us of a $90,000 matching grant which will match every gift, dollar-for-dollar.

The old hospital, the one that I started coming down to work in twenty years ago, is condemn-able. Open wiring. Crumbling, leaky ceilings. It is sad. I have personally seen, on my hands and knees, the earthquake crack at the base of its walls, literally separating the structure from its foundation. Truth told, the current hospital is not safe. But it’s currently all we’ve got.

Just across the road from this difficult situation, a remarkable scene has been playing out... the rising up of a new and better hospital, one that will carry forward its 50-plus year legacy of being a place where the love of Christ is fleshed out in compassionate medical caregiving. With significant, (though not 100%) funds needed in hand, construction began in early 2012, on faith that the money would continue to come in. And it has.

Aerial view of hospital construction site

So here’s where we are. Tremendous progress has been made. Today, with the end in sight, construction had to be suspended until the final funds to be raised (just under $200,000) is received. The target date for completion (in September) will have to be moved back if we can’t quickly generate the funds and finish this off.

But here’s the deal, folks. Amazingly, a $90,000 matching grant has just been offered up, a grant which, if taken full advantage of, will put the project over the top.  And I’m asking... would you help me seize the day and this opportunity to help La Gonave get their hospital?

The new hospital build is not Starfysh’s project (most of our work is currently in the more rural regions of the island). But we are convinced that the hospital will provide tremendous lift to the entire island. We see it as a critical infrastructural step in our collective vision to see La Gonave rise up out of her desperate poverty.

Thank you. Every gift will be matched dollar-for-dollar, up to $90,000.  If it comes in quickly, construction can continue at a pace to have a grand opening dedication ceremony in late September.

If you are prompted to give, you can do so securely online at www.starfysh.org or by check. Simply write “New Hospital” in the comments section (online) or in the memo line of your check. Send your check to Starfysh  6757 Cascade Rd. SE  #207  Grand Rapids, MI  49546.

Thanks all!  May God bless you richly.

Steve

Hopital Wesleyen d' La Gonave : Old vs. New

Inpatient Capacity

Old hospital: 35 patients, including those laying on stretchers in the hallways.

New hospital:  44 patients, including an infectious diseases unit

Emergency Room

Old hospital: One tiny, cramped room with one stretcher.

New hospital: An entire ER department with 8 patient capacity

Surgery

Old hospital: One major surgery suite. One minor surgery room.

New hospital: Two major surgery suites. One minor surgery room.

OB/Delivery

Old hospital: Two beds.

100% Haitian labor force for the hospital build

New hospital: Four beds.

Family Waiting

Old hospital: No area for family waiting.

New hospital: Large family waiting area.

Ancillaries

Old hospital:  X-Ray off site. No room for surgery prep. No morgue.

New hospital:  X-Ray in hospital. Designated dressing rooms for surgery prep. Morgue.

Basics

Old hospital:  One sink with running water. No flush toilets. Unsafe in an earthquake.

New hospital:  Running water throughout entire hospital. Earthquake safe.

Power

Old hospital: Diesel generator,  $50,000 yearly fuel cost

New hospital:  Solar energy, $0 yearly fuel cost

I Choose Good News

Truth told, I am rather sick of hearing bad news. NBC’s “special report” on the Boston bombings is on in the other room and I, frankly, am just not that interested in seeing more than the hour-and-a-half I’ve seen already. Not sure I should feel that way, but I do. Don’t misinterpret. I do care. It’s just that I choose to not obsess on bad news, thankful that I have the luxury to make that choice. I’m not the President.

Not that bad news is avoidable. It is not. But if you think about it, the evening news people could, if they wanted to, choose to weight its reporting on good news. There are plenty of good, redeeming stories out there that need to be told. And I, for one, would like to hear them. If, before my head hits the pillow tonight, I hear about another scandal or murder or contentious fight in congress I think I’ll scream.

I’ll not be screaming. My TV is off and I’m re-reading a good book called Fast Living, a book on poverty (which we’re all sick of hearing about too. Yes, there I’ve said it... I’m sick of poverty. What could possibly be good about it?).

Let me cite, from the book, some good news about the state of poverty that I’ll bet you’ve not heard on the nightly news...

• “In the past eight years, the number of kids dying from measles has declined by 78% (from 733,000 deaths per year to 164,000) because we are completing the work of immunizing every child. 
• “Twenty-two countries have cut their malaria rate in half in only six years. They did it with insecticide-treated bed nets, access to better medicines, and spraying to kill mosquitoes. Globally, malaria infections have decreased by nineteen million per year and malaria deaths have dropped by 140,000 per year between 2005 and 2009. 
• “We used to say that 40,000 children die each day from preventable causes. In the 1990’s, that number dropped to 33,000 per day. By 2008, it dropped further to 24,000. And now it is down to 21,000. The number of children dying before their fifth birthday has been cut in half and we did it in a generation using a wide range of practical strategies, from creating access to clean water to training skilled birth attendants. 
• “Every day day there are 19,000 fewer children dying of preventable causes--every day!--despite the fact that the total number of births is increasing. That’s remarkable progress. If we keep our current pace of progress, we will soon live in a world where massive numbers of children no longer die of preventable causes. 
• “Today there are about 1.4 billion people living in extreme poverty (2005 data--latest available). And that’s good news. In 1981, 52 percent of the world’s population lived in extreme poverty. Today that number is 26 percent. If we were still at 52 percent, then an additional two billion people would still be suffering in extreme poverty. We have already cut the percentage of people living in extreme poverty in half! And we did it in one generation.” 

Don’t tell me there’s not good news to be told. I personally could tell forever the great stories in the making on an out-of-the-way little island in Haiti. Feel-good stories. Stories that’ll warm your heart. Stories of transformation. Definitely stories worth telling... and hearing. And, while they’ll not likely make your 6 o’clock news, the stories being lived and told on La Gonave would stand up against any terrorist bombing or murder trial story you got. I guarantee it.

I have found that pictures tell great stories. Like these two pics: Madame Maude in her new bakery, and this beautiful field of vegetables.

Plus, I like to think we have some pretty good news of our own to share. Isaiah said it well...

"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, 'Your God reigns!'"  Isaiah 52:7

Emergence

For as many years as the butterfly exhibit has made its Spring appearance here, not until this year had I taken it in. Not that I didn’t think I would enjoy it. I am rather in to bugs. Ask my parents and sisters. I’m sure they could provide the world with great blog content for some time.

I loved the butterflies, of course, with all their color and flitting and all. But, as in all things, I enjoyed  viewing the greater scene, as if a play on stage. The tall and spacious greenhouse-made-rain forest was misty and warm, well-suited for bamboos and butterflies. Meandering. There was a lot of meandering. Folks going no where in particular. Neck craned and extended. Eyes up and out, never down. Hands stretched outward, hoping Mr. Emperor Swallowtail would mutually consent in ignoring the “no touching” signs.

I caught myself hanging out by the pupae for a long time, just watching them hang there. A few were actively emerging, though it was a long ordeal. Most were just hanging there; their own emergence into adulthood held off for a better day, perhaps tomorrow.

There was no rushing this day. Visitors weren’t checking their smart-phones. The butterflies, no agenda except to please.  And those butterflies-to-be seemed in no hurry to get on with it. No hurry to impress.  Are there lessons here for me?

I think yes. I must chill out and allow maturation and emergence its due time. This is not without its angst, mind you.  I would love to help chicks hatch and seeds push up the earth that covers them. But I must continually remind myself that the journey... the painful, struggling journey is what makes emergence all that much more glorious.