my boys... Zaryen...

The other day I stopped in at Bernard Mevs (well, the u-joint went out on the truck and that's where we stopped...) and got a chance to hang out with a few of my boys. That's right, MY boys - I might have mentioned that I am the proud "mama" of 34 Haitian amputees... Macena was eager to show me how he makes a prosthetic leg, and to show off his fancy new "sporty" prosthetic leg (metal, curved like a "C".) He told me "With this I can run faster than you." I smiled and told him he could run faster than me without it - I've had my ass handed to me by him and the rest of Zaryen on the field. He gave me that sheepish child-like grin, and told me he remembered me from the hospital, back before I was "mama", when he was sick and I took care of him. I remember a lot of these boys from the tent hospital; even without "Zaryen", they were my boys.

Macena was a welder before the quake. After work on January 12, he ducked behind a wall with a bucket of water, to rinse off the sweat and dirt from the day before going home to his wife. That's when the earthquake happened - and he couldn't get out of the way of the wall fast enough, and it fell on him. As he put it, he couldn't run fast enough. The really tragic part - his was a tib/fib break (tibia/fibia - lower leg, below the knee), but he sat at a hospital with no antibiotics - no treatment for a week - and then came to us. The infection was bad, and he had to have an above the knee amputation. I have to admit, I didn't know that much about amputations, until I came to Haiti. Having your own knee joint makes SUCH a difference. Now he works at the hospital, making "fwapees" (prosthetic legs), and is one of the starting players for the Zaryen amputee team. Now, he runs like the wind.

I hung out with Macena and Cedieu for a few hours while they worked (and while the mechanic fixed the truck), talking about the team's upcoming trip to the United States. I haven't been out to see Zaryen practice as much as I'd like - it's a hard to get a ride down to the soccer field in Cite Soliel at 6am, and public transport isn't safe in that area so early (for a blanc girl.) So tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn, Macena is going to drive his new (new to him) car over to pick me up and bring me to practice. It seems so simple, but was so touching - Macena lives in a tent with his wife and toddler, and gas is over $5 a gallon here. It will likely cost him more than a days pay to come get me, and he beamed with pride when he told me he would take care of it for me.

One of the other guys in the fwapee lab noticed I wasn't eating with them, and offered to split his lunch with me - not a big deal in the states, but a huge deal here. For many of the employees at Bernard Mevs, the meal they get at work is the only meal they eat all day. I smiled and patted my stomach - told him I had a little extra stored up, and that he needed the food more than I did.

When the truck was road-ready, Cedieu walked me out and said something that brought tears to my eyes - he said that even though Zaryen now has better gear and sponsors, I am still their godmother, because I was the first one to believe in them. He said I bought them their first uniforms, and that made them feel like a real team - made them believe in themselves. (They had had people promise to send gear and uniforms, but no one had come through, and I got pissed off and bought them myself.)

The next morning, we drove by the field on the way to work out at the orphanage in Titayin. We stopped by so everyone could see my boys play. And even though they've got real jerseys, most of them were still wearing the shirts I got them so many months ago. I had to smile when I looked at how faded they've become - I pointed out to one of the goalies that his shirt is almost pink instead of red. I think the meaning was lost in translation - like maybe he was washing it wrong - so I quickly explained that the faded color meant that he has loved and cherished it, which is exactly what I wanted to see.


~PJ