We started the day out even earlier a shock to my system as I’m not a morning person, at all. The plan was to leave by 7am as we were headed to do a mobile clinic at a tent city by Cite Soleil.  After having coffee and fruit we left a lil later heading out through the busting streets pass by a different clinic called Blanchard where I had wanted to stay the following weekend. We stopped by to pick up supplies enroute to the camp. A group packed up medications that were used to set up clinic at the tented city not far away.  We arrived at the tented city, volunteers were oriented to different stations with areas designated for waiting areas for patients, a pharmacy, triage and a section in the open for clinicians.  Not much privacy available. We were welcomed with opened arms by loving children running up to us, a reassuring feeling in what at a brief glance looked like a destitute place. On a closer look, they were people , some working , some struggling to make a living like anyone else.  We were later told they had not had anyone provide healthcare for a year or more, they had to walk far for water and had little or no food, latrines were full which left few places to use the bathroom.   The culmination of a lack of sanitary facilities seemed to create the perfect breeding grounds for diseases.  What caught my attention were the scraps children put together for toys, looking oblivious to the poverty, a little boy pulled along a car on a string made out of an empty old oil can with wheels attached.  I’ve seen creativity like never before in Haitians which was uplifting.  Malnutrition, hunger and disease were seen in the camp, all balanced with a palpable resilience and determination in the community.   Diseases untreated had manifested into progressed cases and we had to just do the best we could with limited medications available. It felt like just putting small bandaids over deep rooted wounds.   Poor nutrition from lack of food was a magnified problem.  Women who had endured many hardships were forced to fend for themselves and their children.  It was not uncommon for children to come unattended by an adult.  One 14 year old girl who lived in the camp alone was an orphan, both of her parents were deceased and her brother lived in an orphanage. Her period was late and she had been sexually active. She didn’t appear to be phased at the thought of being pregnant. With scare resources and the need to treat an infection she had I couldn’t do a pregnancy test, just had to pick meds presumed okay in pregnancy just in case.  Her story is likely just one of many.  Earlier in the week  I worked with a young woman who had been severely beaten and raped left for dead, but she survived.  Now I was working in a tented camp where such actions, perhaps on a smaller scale were possibly commonplace.  Food was limited, I heard main staples if even options were beans, rice and bananas and of course the mud pies made with mud, sugar and oil.  There was not an outside source I knew about supplying food.  Walking through an unsafe neighborhood was required to fetch water.  No toilets created its own unique set of issues.  I’d read an article of women being attacked when seeking to use the bathroom on the camp outskirts. I even found it tough to find a private corner to do patient exams when needed.  At the end of the day I walked through some of the camp with translators and met community members. They shared with me that they live in the camps and have medical needs.  I watched children in the distance playing games without regard to scarcities.  Men stepped up from the community to serve as security.  I saw young women longing for attention, children and babies hungry, fatigue on the faces of the older tenants.  In the end of it all, one wonders how much good is really done. At best, perhaps the visits provide a glimmer of hope, maybe treating some conditions, still outcomes are all in God’s hands.  Many diseases will remain untreated, hunger may continue.  Striving to be His hands and feet is all one can do.   In the debriefing that night where we all seemingly selfishly retreated to the comforts of food and safety we talked and quietly reflected somber and still with all that had been seen.   We saw a total of about 200 patients that day, practicing what I call raw medicine, never enough, but for some patients hopefully it helped.  We talked on what had been a Blessing or surprised us- for me it was feeling the spirit of God and seeing Jesus so in the people of Cite Soleil , a place I could not even get a ride to in the past cause of its negative reputation.  We shared what challenged us the most- for me it’s now that I’ve witnessed the massive needs in the tented camp and other places , how will I respond to the call to help.  Lastly we shared our takeaway from Haiti- for me the lessons taught by the Haitian people 1) have faith 2) be patient 3) be grateful, always say thank you 4) love Jesus 5)work hard and 6) make the best with what you have.  We finished the night socializing on the rooftop talking and taking in the cool breezes. My mom,  Rosetta Schuster, who always encourages me reminded me before I left that there would be times I’d be uncomfortable on this trip, but that everything will be allright as I’m doing God’s work here.  Reflecting on all the lessons in just a short time, I realize she right.  I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone, definitely tested in these circumstances, but it is all so rewarding and I’ll forever remain changed.  I’m thankful for being called to serve.