swim in the Caribbean Sea. So we went with 5 young people from the church and Rosita and Ma Theo who look after Robyn’s apartment. Nine of us piled into the small Toyota Lite ace van that looked as if it were on its last legs. Then we were off, the driver ducking and weaving through the traffic as we headed out of the city. It was over an hour’s journey through some unimaginable tracks they call roads. Sometimes we were at top speed swerving to avoid the potholes and then a barely visible clay speed bump would appear and it was all anchors out as we slowed to a crawl to negotiate the hump without damaging the undercarriage. There were a few mighty big
clonks at times and the driver looked a little worried as he hung out the window to see what had happened, still driving at a furious pace. Even in the rural areas there were people everywhere, hanging washing out on bushes and watching this crazy driver with 2 “blancs” heading to the beach. The inevitable happened. On a particularly rocky area the wheel under my seat (right front) began to make some weird noises. The driver stopped to discover a flat tyre. Five minutes later we were on the way again with the spare in place. Eventually we arrived at a resort at "Michelet et Menard plage". There were 2 larger groups also using the resort for a meeting. We unloaded, got changed and headed for the surf. It was fabulous – warm water, a refreshing wind and a sandy beach. There was some floaties- mainly a weed a bit like pine needles, some charcoal that they use for cooking, bits of wood and the odd shoe or plastic bottle but nothing like the pollution problem at Cap Haitien. Kim and I were in for about ¾ hour. We had some sunscreen on but it was too good not to be in. The other Haitians joined us, but they do not need sunscreen. We lazed on the sunloungers under the coconut trees. I even got a nap. Then it was lunchtime – fried chicken, rice, fried plantain, salad and a sauce. All very nice. With all that ocean, we had to have another dip and it extended out to almost an hour. However, I was very aware that the sunscreen would not be working but how could I (we) resist. So we reluctantly came in but there was another exciting bonus for us. There, on the beach was a concrete post with 4 shower heads providing fresh water - the first proper shower I had since coming here. We reveled in the hot, then warm water (nothing ever comes cold unless it has been in a freezer) for 5-10 minutes before we changed and lazed about waiting for our driver. He turned up about 4 and then it was the mad dash home. This time there were no “blancs” in the van but two “rouges”. We had both taken a fair dose of vitamin D but were content and not too sore. On the way home, the van gave out again – the battery died but the driver knew how to get another even though we were on the outskirts of the city. It took about 15 minutes but then we were on the way. So we never saw a pirate or a shark but our time in Haiti has been complete and we are content. You can ask about the “rouge” when I am home in a week.Monday, June 28, 2010
Mission accomplished!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
A typical day in theatre
Meanwhile, the World Cup soccer match was in progress and being shown on a TV set up in what passes for CSSD. Here there are 3 sterilizers and the nurses cut up lint into large squares, then fold them up into swabs (check fives we call them in NZ), bundle them into lots of 10 and wrap them up, put 30 of these bundles into a bag and sterilize them. They do use steam marking tape to tell when the load is sterile. These gauzes are used for everything - swabbing the wounds, soaking up blood, drying hands after scrubbing (I was given two of these small squares after scrubbing to dry my hands and arms!). Many things are recycled in CSSD. They use disposable gowns over and over again, as long as they are not too bloody. The number of recycles can usually be gauged by the fading blue colour - if you are handed a white gown you know it is likely to fall to bits when you try to put it on.
Anyhow, I retreated to CSSD to watch the soccer (unfortunately, they only showed the Italy-Slovakia game, not the NZ Paraguay game). The TV ariel was an old disposable (but probably due to be recycled) diathermy draped over a disused light among the sterilizers. JC joined us in the CSSD which was open to the outside and had many visitors during the match.
People generally can walk into theatre without scrubs to visit, but they are very strict about masks being on once you are in theatre. But there are no overshoes and a mask is meant to last a few weeks. My next case also had to be done in the small room as another caesarian section had arrived in my theatre. This was to be another haemorrhoidectomy who I had not seen preop. Apparently she had been bleeding but I did not know the history. They have no proctoscopes or sigmoidoscopes so the diagnosis is made by doing a fairly invasive examination of the anus manually, usually in the knee chest position and trying to turn the anal mucosa out to see the pile. They also do haemorrhoids face down but I obliged to my preference of lithotomy position in stirrups. There was no light in this theater but I had brought my bike headlight - better than nothing. The lady had some skin tags and a fibroepithelial polyp at the dentate line but no piles in sight! I did a formal rectal exam but could not feel anything else but they were expecting me to do a haemorrhoidectomy on a lady without haemorrhoids! She did have the anal tags so I removed them and a little of the anal cushions but it was a bit unsatisfactory. They had not seen piles done this way before and fortunately there was very little bleeding so they seemed impressed at the simplicity of the procedure. They also suture their haemorrhoid wounds closed whereas I leave them open.
Then it was back to CSSD to check the TV, - game over and mostly shock at Italy's elimination from the world cup - bottom of the table below NZ. We had a long break, sitting around waiting for theatre to be cleared. Lafontain arrived with our lunch of yoghurt, pate (pastry with a tasty meat paste filling) and sprite to drink. Another caesar had come in so we waited. JC saw a child with fractured tibia and fibula that they decided to plaster it. JC’s comment was that they would be safer plastering their fractures as the infection rate is so high for open surgery that the result is worse than a more conservative approach. Meanwhile Dr Compere, one of the general surgeons had seen a private case that morning of what he thought was an anal fissure. The patient, a young man apparently was leaping off the bed as he tried to do a rectal examination (I teach the med students that it is almost pathognomonic of an anal fissure and not to persist unless you want an enemy for life). Dr. Compere wanted me to assist as he planned an lateral subcutaneous sphinterotomy (dividing a small part of the anal outlet muscle that is causing the severe pain). He does this in the prone position so it was new to me. Under spinal anaesthetic, the fissure was confirmed - as classic a fissure I have ever seen. A gauze was stuffed in the anus and a sphincterotomy done - again, I tend to use scissors to dissect and cut
the sphincter but they kept handing me the scalpel. I did the operation at the usual position (3 o'clock) around the anus and thought that it was all over. However, Dr. Compere decided to make another incision at the 9 o'clock position as well, thrusting an artery forcep into the sphincter and dissecting, but nothing was cut. The senior resident wanted to see and feel the effect of the surgery so put on some gloves to feel. We removed a small skin tag nearby. But as the diathermy was there, Dr. Compere decided it had to be used so each sphincterotomy wound got a fair dose of electrical current. Then he decided to spray the fissure with the diathermy as well whereas I let them heal by themselves. It is a lot more than I would normally do but it should be effective. I hope it is not too effective and he is left with some incontinence. For this procedure, someone had found a portable light as my headlight was ineffective. Overall, Dr. Compere was delighted he had got the diagnosis right and it had been effectively treated. There was much shaking of hands and congratulations at the end of the operation.
Then it was back to the waiting game. One hernia to go. A fourth caesar had arrived and a fractured jaw was also to be done in my theatre by a faciomaxillary surgeon. So JC and I just had to wait. CSSD was now showing the late games in the world cup - Japan beating Denmark. While we were there, we noticed it was a little cooler and then the rain came. It is meant to be the rainy season here but apart from a thunderstorm when I first arrived, there has been no rain to speak of. We waited for some hours before JC was able to plaster a fractured radius and ulna and I managed to get into theater about 4.30 to do the hernia (no closing of theatres here at 4pm). Most of the seniors had gone home (there is only one anaesthetist and she had gone home and the general anaesthetic was done by a nurse technician) and there was only a skeleton nursing staff.
Nurses do not assist in operations here. It is the junior resident who sets up the scrub table, selects the instruments, loads the scalpel blade and acts as scrub nurse. At the end of the procedure, he will cut off all the needles for disposal but there is no counting of swabs or
needles. There are no consent forms either. They had a recent case here of a patient before theatre deciding to go for a walk. His relative decided to lie on the bed. When the orderly came to get him for theatre, the relative protested but it was passed of as a reluctant patient trying to get out of the procedure. They actually got him into the theatre before the mistake was discovered. They all thought it was a huge joke.
There is a big ritual surrounding the conduct of an operation here. It starts with the scrub in the one basin in the entrance of the theatre suite. The same disposable scrub brushed we use in NZ are used but these have been recycled. A green mixture is used (not sure what it is) and the tiny tap has to be turned of with the elbow (no electronic or foot control taps here). Then it is a short walk into theatre, alcohol is liberally poured onto the wet hands, and 2 small square gauzes are given for drying the hands. A big tin is opened containing more sterile swabs and 4-5 recycled gowns. One of these is handed to you with tongs and you robe up. If you see a hole in the sleeve, just ignore it. Then the gloves are supplied, minimum size is 7 ½ . Fortunately I brought some of my own size 7 gloves. Sterilizing the patient’s skin and draping is a long established ritual. A sponge holder with a gauze is heldover the umbilicus and a nurse squirts betadine solution onto the gauze until it is dripping. The umbilicus is thoroughly cleansed then the gauze ritually run in large strokes from there almost to the knee (for a hernia). This is repeated to cleanse the skin on the opposite side (umbilicus to knee) and then a third application of the betadine to the abdomen to knee on the side of the hernia. By this stage, the patient (who has been completely exposed in the cruciform position from the start of the anaesthetic) is soaking in alcoholic betadine antiseptic. 4 small drapes are applied in a square around the hernia site and held with towel clips (if they have any). Then they open a large disposable laparotomy drape, better than most that I have seen in NZ. I suspect they have recently been supplied with these for use at this time. If they need any extra drapes, they use a resterilized disposable gown. Then the operation can begin. A diathermy plate (disposable but reused) is loosely applied to the calf. JC tried to get them to apply a bandage to make sure it had good contact but they have no bandages. Consequently, the diathermy is very temperamental and I use it as little as possible. I was then handed the “blade” to make the incision. Sometimes they do not have a scalpel handle in the set so they use an artery forcep to hold the blade. The problem is that the forceps are not that good so the blade will fold in the forcep if it is not clamped firmly.
The hernia was very straightforward with the most obvious difference with hernias in NZ is the almost complete absence of fat between the layers. These lads are lean machines! We knew therewas no testis on that side or a spermatic cord to preserve. I think the young man probably had a neonatal torsion of the testis in utero. We did check that there was no palpable intra abdominal testis before removing the sac. With no cord, I usually close the inguinal canal so I did not do my usual Maloney Darn. Instead (shock, horror) I did the old fashioned Bassinni repair, much to their delight (they think they have taught me to do hernias their way). Mind you I find it very hard communicating when I do not know the French or Creole so I was not always sure what was being said as I proceeded. It is clear that JC is making a much bigger impact by being able to speak French. There are some residents with a good grasp of English. One of the first year residents came to me to ask if I would teach him the anatomy of the inguinal canal. One of the second year residents (Gilbert) has the record for learning to do hernias in 6 months and this resident wants to beat that record. I'm not sure that after 30 years of doing hernias I can say I have mastered it completely, but that is the way here in Haiti. I was able to give some tips during the down times in my day but it was clear he has not got even a basic understanding of the anatomy yet.
By this time, JC had started his last case in the small room. It was an excision of distal ulna that was protruding through the skin after a bad fracture of the distal radius and ulna some months before. The local witchdoctor had been consulted but the bone was still sticking through the skin. JC managed to find an Esmarch bandage to act as tourniquet to reduce bleeding. During
the procedure he noted a fly landing on the sterile field. The Haitians joked that this was a new sterile species of fly they breed here.Eventually, they day was done about 5.30pm and we took a taxis home through the light rain that was still falling at dusk. The others were waiting for their dinner (shepherd pie!). The frustrations of any hospital system are evident here. Surgeons being bumped for a more urgent case, slow turnover, inadequate preoperative assessment delaying operations, equipment failure, unnecessary rituals, are all magnified here by the lack of infrastructure. Nevertheless, they do very well for the limitations they have. It makes the complaints we make at home look stupid. We have so much but are ungrateful. They have so little, but are thankful for what little they are able to do.
This last picture above shows Dale's emotional farewell lunch at the rehabilitation centre on Tuesday. She had certainly made an impact by the time she left on Wednesday to return to NZ. I with Kim and Steve will be following next Wednesday as another physio arrives.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Teaching at the hospital, Preaching at church
What I hear you say? Two blogs in two days? He is exceeding himself! I know some of you will be wondering how I got on with my message at church yesterday so thought I should fill you in. But there are no pictures.
I have been teaching the residents with translation which is very limiting. I did a session on biliary surgery that took almost 2 hours and then one on gastric surgery for 1 and a half hours. They say they do a lot of these operations but in over 3 weeks I have not seen anything more major than a hernia and frankly, I do not see how they could cope with a gastrectomy in the theatre conditions. I think it is similar to what was happening 30 years ago in the west where surgeons overestimated the number of cases they were doing and grossly underestimated their complications. This week they want me to talk about colorectal surgery. My teaching is very limited without French or Creole. Some of the residents are very capable, but have little or no future. They would love to travel for further study. Those that have good English have a little more potential. The main job for the senior resident is to find any place where there could be an exchange of of residents for training. I have been asked about possibilities for an NZ exchange but it would be the cost that would prevent it. They earn about $200US a month in Haiti!
So what about preaching. I must admit I was rather apprehensive about the task of preaching to about 3000 Haitians with Robyn as my interpreter. We went over my notes which I had written onto my computer and she was very supportive in the tenor of the message.
On Sunday I left about 5.40 to walk to church in my jacket and tie. The service was led by a male choir which I would have loved to film but I was ushered on stage to sit near a fan which kept me very cool. It was very much appreciated in my attire and the heat. Two readings - Isa 53 and John 10 were my choices. There was a heartfelt community singing of "Bringing in the sheaves" in which they went round shaking hands and moving to the rhythm. Then I was on with Robyn translating. I called it "A message from NZ" or "Icons of NZ". I had planned to speak about 3 icons - the sheep, the kiwi and the paua. There was some consternation at the start when I spoke of icons of Haiti being the earthquake and then voodoo - almost a gasp but I quickly spoke of my delight in seeing a thriving Christian community here and turned to verses in 1 John 4:4 (Greater is he that is in you than he that is in the world) and Romans 5 (Where sin abounded, grace did more abound) and the amens started resounding. They do not listen in silence as we do in the West but where they join in the scripture readings and respond positively to any encouragement. I spoke of the icons of sheep (Isa 53 - we all go astray, John 10 - we all need a shepherd and John 1:29 - Jesus was God's lamb, slain for us) telling of the story of Shrek who avoided the shepherd's care for 6 years, becoming so heavy with wool he could hardly move. I then spoke of the kiwi, unable to fly even though it has wings. I told the story of the eagle chick raised in a hencoop, scratching around in the ground when it should be flying. The application was that Ephesians tells us that Christians are born to soar but in reality we spend our time earthbound, not realizing that we were born to fly. I encouraged them to lift their eyes to see their destiny in Jesus and there were lots of approving "Amens". At this stage, I could see were almost out of time so I dropped the last icon (the paua) and concluded with our need to recognize that whether in Haiti or in NZ, this world is not our ultimate home. We are citizens of heaven and when we gather round the lamb (Rev 5), then we will be home. Plenty of amens followed. They sang a song and the service was over, about 2 hours and 10 mins long. It was a great sense of relief. Robyn did have a coughing fit just near the end but I got a bottle of water from Kim that revived her and she was able to finish. She felt it went very well, despite missing the paua icon.
Then it was time for our weekly Sunday treat - a trip to the hotel "Roi Christophe" for our Sunday breakfast (omlette with cheese and ham for me) and then a swim in the pool. Robyn did not come this time as she felt obliged to look after Steve. I managed to honeypot Dale (caught on video). It was very relaxing as I wrote a postcard and during the breakfast saw the NZ Italy World Cup soccer match on TV 1-1 against the World champions! Wow! Here they mainly support Argentina or Brazil but there is a growing admiration for our little country doing great things among the giants
Visiting Port au Prince
smooth flying from there. It took about 25 mins to get to Port au Prince coming in from the sea with the city to the right, not my side. Not a lot to see of the earthquake from the air. We got into the airport to await Joshua Octeus, the president of the Evangelical church of Haiti who Robyn had asked to show us around. He had been in Dominican Republic the day before so was rather tired and was over an hour late picking us up but very apologetic. He was a delightful man. Our first priority was
breakfast so Joshua took us through the back streets of Port au Prince to Epid'or a French
pastry shop, guarded as usual with a shotgun toting guard. I chose to have a 'cold' bacon and egg burger while others had a warm ham and cheese croissant - they got the better deal.
The tour of the city was something else. 5 months after the killer quake, there were still piles of rubble everywhere and many buildings uninhabited with obvious cracks. There were still throngs of people - we could hardly imagine what it would be like with and extra 300,000 people. The United Nations were patrolling the streets but are seen as pretty ineffectual by most people. They observe but do not intervene.
Robyn was in shock as we toured - she had seen the former glory of the presidential buildings, the ministry buildings, military barracks and the cathedral, all now destroyed, just crumbling ruins. In the central parks and open spaces were thousands of tents and blue tarpaulins where families who are homeless live. There were water tankers delivering water, portaloos lined up at strategic points. I felt a very conspicious rubber necker. At times we heard shouts of "Go home" as we crept slowly
among the other traffic. After just
over 2 hours of this I had seen enough. The basic roads were in better condition, than at Cap, even some roads with 2 lanes each way and there were even traffic lights! Sometimes I felt embarrassed as we held up traffic to take photos but Joshua wanted us to see it all. On some stretches of road, the tents went for miles. It was heartbreaking. Meanwhile, many buildings were uninhabitable and others had been partly reconstructed with what looked very dubious materials.slope and managed to run it down and then into gear. It started later when at Epid'or.
However, we were diverted near the airport to a very rough road and when turning back onto the main road the car stalled trying to get over a big kerb. Then it would not restart. We got out as traffic mounted the kerb to get round us. Another truck pushed us backwards to get us started but our driver had the gear in forward so it did not start. Eventually we manuvered into a place where 5 of us pushed the car for a few meters and got it going again after much yelling and screaming. We finally got back into the traffic but decided we had enough of
sightseeing to went to a restaurant near the airport where in an air conditioned room we relaxed. I had an ice cream, others had cake and coffee and plenty of water. We talked with Joshua about our impressions and his desire to set up yet another training facility of Haitians under the auspices of the church. One of the problems here is they they are training people for jobs that do not exist. There are nursing training, medical, legal etc etc but no where for them to work when trained. Furthermore, the culture does not accept the disabled as worth treating so the physios are up against it. If any training would be valuable, it would be physiotherapy (there is no training in Haiti for physio and what our physios are doing is being appeciated) but the benefits of treating disabled in a culture which sees amputees and worthless is going to be a hard task. Dr Vulcain at St Justiniens does see the benefits and is promoting what Dale and Kim are doing. But attitudes are harder to change than structures and the concern is when our physios leave, the program
will stop. We feel so impotent to deal with the overwhelming problems in a country with so great a need, so many people and yet so difficult to get even a basic change accomplished. Rubbish is a huge problem, particularly plastic which is tossed into the streets and washed into the sea when it rains. Regulations - just will not work. Electricity, fire dept, police are utterly ineffective. There have been at least 6 fires at the hospital in the last few years. The fire truck which is only mobilized once authorized from Port au Prince has always arrived to dampen the ashes. All the fires have started from electrical faults and would have been put out by a fire extinguisher easily, but there are none. An organization supplied 50 fire extinguishers for the hospital but the administration said it was not their responsibility to fit them on the walls at appropriate places. So they lie in a container and the fires continue. Steve watched a fire near theatre on an outside pole at an electrical switch. A few wires were pulled until it stopped and the wires left dangling. What can you do? It is mainly infrastructure that needs to be tackled but where to start? It seems impossible!Monday, June 14, 2010
Another week in Haiti
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Singing in heaven, Operating in Hell
Sunday, June 6, 2010
To the edge of darkness
Thursday, June 3, 2010
My first dip into the clinical arena at St Justiniens Hospital
We made it across the border into Haiti the following morning, but not without some stresses. The Haitian immigration authorities wanted to see my return ticket to prove I was going to leave. We had to trek down a muddy bank through many big trucks blocking what passed for a road to the border bridge over the dividing river to get it, only to find that they did not want to see it anymore. Some official who knew Robyn asked why she was being delayed and they decided to forget the ticket. Meanwhile, the locals just carted goods, chickens and even people across the river without any immigration control. UN soldiers "observed" the border but are considered a joke by the locals because they never intervene, just observe! The road from the border to Cap Haitien was the best we have been on- fast, no potholes and we were at the town in just over an hour. Most of the roads in the Cap are being dug up and reconstructed in a haphazard fashion so there is dirt, dust and mud everywhere.
Dr Bright who speaks good English. I was asked to see a patient with a
mass in the epigastrium. They have no CT, minimal (and very expensive)
ultrasound and were debating what to do. I thought a "mini" laparotomy
for biopsy would help make the diagnosis which I think is probably
intraperitoneal spread of a tumour into the omentum, possibly gastric
or ovarian primary. When we got back to the apartment where eveyrone
had being staying up until then, I began to flag with tiredness, and
lay on a couch, quickly falling asleep and being photographed as shown
in this undignified position by Steve.
The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of spaghetti and eggs
cooked by Robyn, Steve and I went to the hospital where I was welcomed
onto the ward round. 3 senior residents were taking the interns on a
round where some very advanced cases were presented. My opinion was
asked for on a few cases, through interpretation. Then there was an
outpatient clinic which was quite an eyeopener. Mind you, they are
working under extreme conditions (even the Haitian doctors were
sweating drops off their faces on the patients in a windowless room
with only open doors for ventilation). They have few resources and a
massive clinic load but such treatment of people as "cases" rather
than individual people would not be tolerated back home. I was more
like a cattle yard than a clinic, with people wandering in and out, 4
interns and 2 residents peering at them in undignified states of
undress and as for that weird hairless white stranger in the corner
who was never introduced, he looked more like a mortician! I witnessed
my first rectal examination in the undignified "knee-chest" position,
popular in some clinics in America but never seen in British style
institutions like NZ. Some people really needed operations for chronic
abscess but were given yet another course of antibiotics. A little
girl with a good story for inguinal hernia was examined by he intern
lying down, and not standing up as is important. I am finding that
because I do not understand the Creole and my smattering of French is
pretty useless that I have not been able to participate as much as I
would like. Nevertheless, the staff have been very welcoming,
translating the basic clinical information into English for me and
asking for my opinion. So my contribution will be limited. It may take
more time to develop and I have yet to go to the operating theatre but
from Steve's position as anaesthetist and having been here for over a
week, he finds the conditions very primitive and sometimes
distressing, but under the difficult circumstances they do
extraordinarily well. This evening, I am much refreshed without the
exhaustion and tiredness of last evening. Tomorrow is a public holiday
(Sante Christe) here so we are having a day off from the hospital as
there is no elective work. I hope I can be of some use. It is clear
that Dale, our physiotherapist has already made a huge contribution in
the rehabilitation area and is very much appreciated. Steve has also
been doing a number of anaesthetics but I am only just starting. I
will wait to see where I can be of most use. I can see that Jean-
Claude will have a massive advantage with his French lingo in teaching
in particular. Nevertheless, it is great to be part of a team making a
contribution. And with Robyn's unflagging enthusiasm for the task
despite her health problems we are all in good heart and enjoying
great fellowship together.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Arrival in Haiti
Los Angeles with a 5 hour stopover. I almost lost my phone but the
extensive security procedures at the airport reminded me that I left
it charging back in a rest area. Fortunately there was enough time to
leave security, get the phone and go through the procedures again!
Then in was 6 hours through a second night to New York where just had
enough time for a golden arches breakfast before catching the last leg
from NY to Santiago in the Dominican Republic that shares the island
of Hispanola with Haiti. Robyn had emailed to say that they had not
got over the border the night before as they shut it early for Mothers
Day. So she designated a young pastor in Santiago, Maxnet by name, to
pick me up. There were no problems at customs and my bags arrived with
me. After following Maxnet around while he negotiated transport to a
friends place with the cheaper taxis we scurried through the small
streets at what seemed undue haste, tooting all the way to keep
motorcycles aware of our presence. Later we took an even cheaper taxi
that could cram 7 people into 4 seats into town. I ended up stiing on
the automatic gear change stick next to the driver for the ride back!
Robyn Couper eventually made contact and picked me up for the made
dash to the border. Pastor Reuben was the driver of a beatup Toyota
ute. The road was pitted with potholes and the sealed bits have the
meanest judder bars I have ever seen. The taxis scrape their
undercarriage on them. We left it a bit late but in this old ratley
ute we passed the new model Subarus, Lexus, Ravs etc. The driving
habits were very similar to the Philippines and the Jeepney drivers
there. Just barge in and pray you don't get hit. And the overtaking
manoeuvers were unbelievable, especially for oncoming traffic. It was
a wonder we did not see more accidents. We ran into rain at times and
it was stifflingly hot but in the end failed to make the border before
it closed. So we were stuck in the border town for the night. We got
some Dominican Pesos, found a hotel and had a good feed before
retiring. It will be up at 5.30 to be at the border when it opens at
7am tomorrow so we can get into Haiti itself. First impressions are
like many 3rd world countries - very messy with litter everywhere,
people doing nothing and the typical 3rd world driving habits. It will
be interesting to see the medical side tomorrow at Cap Hatien.