Adventures in Haiti- My Journal (Tuesday)

If you are just starting to read this blog, check out the previous entries as we are smack in the middle of a series detailing our recent trip to Haiti.

"Honey, it's 6 o'clock!" 

"Hmm? What?"

"We gotta get up!"

"Oh, oh boy, ok..." And I stumble out of our bed. I fumble around for my glasses and move in that slow-fast speed that results when you're half asleep but late. It kind of feels like doing zumba in water actually.

After making myself presentable, I casually stroll past the rest of my team already faithfully reading their Bibles. Oy, the team leaders sleep in! Thankfully there has been nothing but a spirit of grace on this team through all the ups and downs already. No one ever even mentions my delinquency. 

The rest of the morning carries on as usual. First, time in reading the Bible (though mine was cut short by the breakfast bell- there was literally a bell they rang when it was time for breakfast), then breakfast and a Creole lesson before heading out for the day. I learn a very encouraging phrase and motto for our team, 'Nou kabob fe sa,' which means 'We can do this!" (Exclamation point added for, well exclamation.) Come on, try it with me, Nou (Noo) Kabob (Kah- leave the BOB off) Fe (Fay) Sa (Sah). Nou kabob fe sa (Noo Kah Fay Sah). Very good! We can do this!

Back at the school/church site, we split up to work on two projects: framing LARGE maps for the classrooms and organizing that closet we met yesterday. I had told Alexis (the missionary's daughter who was in charge of our team for the week- she's pretty awesome by the way) that I would gladly finish organizing, so she put me back in there today. Galyinn, Turner, Jan, myself and several other staff workers at Mission of Hope International (Gadith, Ruth, Mary Ange, and Jameson-he wasn't staff but he was every where we went), sorted, labeled and sized everything, getting rid of clothes that were particularly stained or ripped. Just a tangent here on donating clothes. If you wouldn't wear it, don't send it. *Hands up: I myself am guilty of leaving behind my paint stained clothes to be 'washed' and donated in a third world country, but I am officially cured of that. I know folks have good intentions, but people in developing countries want to look nice too. So before you leave or send that stained t-shirt or worn pair of undies (um, yeah...), think about your true motive for getting rid of it and maybe just pitch it. Then go buy a new pack of underwear to send. 

          Galynn and Turner organizing the closet.

        Kyle, Chad, and Tiffany framing the maps.

After lunch, we finish both projects and clean up. We have a great team. It just seemed like every one eased right into a place that was meant for them. They knew their strengths (and weaknesses) and skated their lanes in a very productive way. Good job team!! Furthermore, it was extremely satisfying for this result oriented lady to see that closet organized (hopefully it stays that way, *bites fingernails or I guess I'll just do it again next time I go). I mean it felt like extreme makeover-closet edition, minus Ty Pennington. Inwardly I was beaming, outwardly, well, it was pretty hot in there, and I was super sweaty and dusty from all the clothes and suitcases we dug them out of. So a cold-ish single stream of water kind of shower back at the base felt pretty amazing.  

Later I meet up with Galynn who is gathering rocks on the beach. We discover a plethora of green rocks that are quite pretty (though at the time we were questioning what made them green exactly.) We discuss how this whole mission trip thing isn't as difficult as it seems (the base at the beach has a way of making you forget the hard work you put in during the day), when she stops and digs up the biggest green rock ever. "You're taking that with you??" I look at the rock that must way 15lbs and laugh out loud! Luckilly Ron wasn't too far behind to carry it as we continued to walk! We joked later with her husband about the rock (which she took home!). He said he wasn't surprised. 

All that rock gathering made me tired. I had time for a quick snooze and dinner, before it was back to the church for a Creole-English service. Kyle preached again with a translator and we met a another missionary couple who had just moved to Haiti eight months ago. They expressed gratitude for a message preached in English. I imagine constantly translating while learning a particular language AND trying to do the things you are used to doing, things you have to do to function, is an exhausting task. Add to that trying to stay fed spiritually when the preachers don't speak your native tongue. Encounters like these are a sort of pro to short term missions: the chance to catch a glimpse of what it's like to be a fulll time missionary. Seeing all the work Lex, Renee AND their children do on a daily basis and all there is to do gives you a greater appreciation for those folks that send update letters to your church or stand before you giving you their testimony. I don't know how they have TIME to write update letters while so inundated with the work of the field, but they do, because they care that you care. So, if you don't read those letters, now would be a good time to start.

     Gathering for team time at night. 

Every evening we had the habit of meeting to discuss the day and reflect on all that we were experiencing. I dubbed them our 'family' meetings, since many of us had left family back home and we were each other's family for the week. We started by saying something positive we learned about each other and this quickly turned into a time of encouragement and team building. Then we turned our thoughts on how we saw God working that day and what we could thank him for. I think it was last night that we thanked God that Turner got his luggage back and also applauded Turner for his positive attitude despite not have a change of clothes for almost 4 days. Not a complaint out of him! We were also thankful many nights for good health, the work being done at MOHI, and the unity of our team. To end, we prayed. We mixed it up night to night praying as a group, in partners, or for the person next to us. Many times these debrief sessions continued as long chats under the chakoun. At the end of this day I saw a deeper connection in our group, like we had bonded. I'm really thankful for this team and how they worked together, got along with each other, and showed grace to each other when things got tough. We would need that kind of unified spirit in the next few days as the work was about to get a little tougher. 

Adventures in Haiti- My Journal (Monday)

'Bonjou!' If you're just starting to read this blog, you're in the middle of a series detailing our recent trip to Haiti. These are reflections from my perspective. 

By Monday morning, it felt like we had been on our trip much longer than three days. Not that things were going badly, our days were just so full! Each leg of travel seemed like enough to fill one day. Preaching and teaching Sunday school seemed like enough to fill another day. But we had completed many legs of travel over a 48 period, toured, hung out with orphans, gone to two church services and absorbed so much into our senses. If I am honest, Monday was a tough day for me. It didn't hit me until late in the evening, but I felt overwhelmed by the prospect of staying another 5 days. I'm a little nervous writing that because so much of these trips are romanticized, made out to seem like a never ending mountain top experience. But there are lows, and that, in my opinion, is ok. Don't we go to be "out of our comfort zone" as so many describe what short term trips are about? Should we not experience both the lows and the highs that come along with serving others? More broadly, did not Christ experience highs and lows in his ministry?

That morning at devotions I felt like God had gone quiet on me. Where was his revelation? It should have come easily as I sat on that wall, in this place, watching the waves crash on the shore. Then I remembered a lesson I learned a long time ago and He whispered it in my heart: "Still with you in the silence. Not forsaken." God was still present and from what I read in Luke 10, my calling as a Christian was still the same in the silence too. Luke tells about a lawyer who questions Christ, saying, "How do I get to heaven?" The answer is love God with everything in you! Love Him passionately, personally, expressively and intellectually. AND love other people like you love yourself. And so despite maybe not "feeling it," I was able to stand on God's word knowing I am called to step out in obedience by loving God and loving others. 

That day our first task was a Creole lesson, where our team was taught some basic phrases we could use as we went throughout our day. Lex made fun of my rolling "r's" as I spoke Creole (Spanish was the second language I learned and I taught it for a couple years, so I roll my 'r's"; something that is not done in Creole). He did tell me my Spanish was very good. Ha! 

Then it was back on the rumbling bus and back to school, where we worked on unpacking the donations of clothes, undies and socks that we brought and creating packages of clothing to hand out. The clothing needed to be packed into outfits based on gender and size (50 of each: 50 men's, 50 women's, 50 children's). We would use the clothes we brought and supplement with clothes from their donation closet. There was A LOT of clothing in this closet and in no particular order aside from males and females. My eyes lit up when I saw it. A organizational project! I have another blog called the maniacal organizer, so it's no surprise I REQUESTED the job of organizing the piles of clothes. I didn't get it all done today; just enough to help make the packages the rest of the team was working on. 

Once we had 150 packages made, we went back to the base and took a rest for a while. When we stepped off that bus by the beach, a refreshing breeze hit us. Compared to just a couple miles inland, this respite by the ocean felt air conditioned despite the 98 degree heat. As we rested and waited, a storm rolled in and our team climbed up on the wall and watched it sweep over the water. Across the ocean, in the distance, a water spout formed (basically a tornado on the water). It was both really awesome and kind of terrifying. It dissipated quickly. All this time in Iowa and I see my first tornado in Haiti!

Before long we headed back out into the village. I hopped on the back of a 'haojin' (which I can only describe as a motorcycle with a mini truck bed attached to it) with Turner and the clothing we had packaged earlier. I was hoping for zippy ride, but Peleo (our driver) refused my pleas to go 'faster, faster!' When we stopped, there was instantly a group of little ones around us. Looking at the little girl in a worn out 'tan' (maybe white at one point?) dress with the sleeves torn and the hem coming undone, I was thankful we were bringing them clothing. Then we were given our instructions. Three groups. One this way. One that way. Another down that way. Grab a large bag (that had lots of packages by size inside) and head out. One package per family...if I thought it looked professional to use emoji in my blog, there would be a smiley face with its mouth hanging open here. One. Package. Per. Family. My heart sank a little. I knew that little girl wasn't going to get a new dress today. What's more we had packed the larger bags according to type: all the men's in one, women's in another and kids in another. I knew, as we grabbed the bags that the clothes we gave out would not even necessarily fit any one in the family. This was a moment where I had to trust our missionary. He knew this community better than we did. He knew the purpose of this assignment better. And he knows the big picture of Haiti better. And off we went.

Later, Alexis would explain that the community was just that: a community, and that they share and trade and that some are grateful for whatever they receive and some are just not. That was comforting in some ways, but we resolved as a team later that night that we could do better by organizing our bags differently. More comforting was David, a little boy I met along the way. Though many families did not get an exact match to their needs, my group was able to give a small 1 year old named David a package that worked just fine for him. Even his clothes were a size too big but he loved the knitted doll that came with it and I know he can at least grow into the clothes later. I also chatted with his mom and was able to pray for them. And as I prayed that God would provide for their needs and that David would grow up to be healthy and strong and to know the Lord, I felt a joy in being able to speak that kind of love into their lives. And I made a new friend. David!

Looking back on village ministry, I can say it was tough and took all of us way out of our comfort zone! I mean, it's just not something you do in the states: walking up to someone's door, give a gift and ask them if you can pray for them. I close the door on people like that! But it's different in Haiti. It's not an invasion. It seems welcomed. Still it was exhausting emotionally to see the poverty and feel so helpless.

Along the way, I came across a tiny baby laying in blankets in a Rubbermaid tub. She was crying relentlessly, and I asked the boy who seemed to be caring for her if I could pick her up. He said 'no, she has messed herself.' I now noticed the baby's exploded diaper and contemplated my next move. I looked around for the mother, who wasn't to be found. We were warned about touching bodily fluids, I dared not offer to change her. Every motherly instinct in me wanted to pick her up to comfort her. I turned to our translator (maybe looking for help, an out?), then looked back when the little girl in the torn tan dress (who had been tagging along) swept the baby up (without supporting her head) and held her out to me. I quickly took the baby (to support her head) and cradled her. She stopped crying. Now I was in a messy situation. But I felt nothing but love for that little one. I gave her a smile and then lowered her back into the boys arms. "Is she yours?" I asked him. No, he nodded and layed her back down into the Rubbermaid container. I wondered if they had another diaper to change her into. Maybe the mom had gone for some somewhere. Who knows where?

Later that night in my journal I wrote,

"I am struggling. I miss home. And my kids. I talked to Adelaide tonight and it was really hard..."

Then, I attributed this to just being homesick. Now, I'm realizing that I was not immune to what I saw that day. The little girl with the torn dress, the mama of David, the crying baby. I have seen and worked amidst poverty before and generally have developed a tough exterior for it. But, something about all I saw that day struck me deeply and it made me want to run to my family for comfort. It makes me wonder how God views the poverty of those in the villages. I feel like my lense as an American is so skewed because what I view as a 'need' is usually nothing but a 'want.' I haven't quite unpacked this line of thinking completely in my own mind so I'll put an end to writing about it for now. What I know is that today, God really wasn't silent. I felt a small piece of his aching for those that are truly without; without full shelter, without clothing, without diapers, and possibly without hope in himself. Even now, I feel that aching and I pray...

Adventures In Haiti- My Journal (Sunday)

If you are just wandering onto this blog, the following entry is part of a series detailing our recent trip to Haiti. Let the adventure begin...

The Chakoun at the mission base.

Today has just been wonderful! We were up EARLY (5:30AM), which is ok, because I was in bed by 7 last night. At 6am, I meandered across the yard of the mission base. Above me several different varieties of mango trees swayed in the ocean breeze. I hear the crash of the water hitting the shore, pass under the chakoun, a tropical pavilion whose roof is made of palm branches, and climb up onto the wall of the mission. It's topped with a wire fence and it's the closest I can get to the water without walking right out the gate. Sometimes, when I'm here, I forget I'm on a mission trip, where I am meant to serve and be "out of my comfort zone." But, let's be real. It's the caribbean! And it's landscape is gorgeous, even if the poverty and hurt that fills this beautiful country is abundant. Lex and Renee have told me time and again that this place, the mission base, is expected to be a haven, a place to rest after a hard day of work for the teams that come and I imagine, for them as well. This is where they live after all. I close my eyes and ask God to help me as I read his word, thankful to be resting after all that travel. Afterwards, we eat breakfast (yummy bread, fresh pineapple, peanut butter and of course, coffee) and clamor onto the big yellow school bus. Time for church.

The newly rebuilt school.

We were quite early so Lex gave us a tour of the new school building (which is at the same location as the church.) I am blow away at what they have accomplished since we were here 3 years ago! What was once a hole in the ground is now a two story building with classrooms, offices, a kitchen, a dance studio, a radio station, a storage room for supplies and a free medical clinic!! And the building is continuing! The Edmes have even started using hydroponics to raise fish for food on the same site as the church (how many of our churches in the states are that creative??) Needless to say, I was both impressed and inspired.

                     The Church.

In the middle of our tour, singing came from the church (an outdoor pavilion-kind of). The music is boisterous and the worship is heartfelt- we don't understand a word of it and the heat is already sweltering. BUT it is so good to be in the house of God with our brothers and sisters in Haiti! Kyle and I  are asked to come up to the front. We introduce ourselves and our team. Kyle preaches using a translator, but I don't get to hear because the rest of us go to teach Sunday school. I had the little tikes (3-5 year olds; any idea why I picked those cuties?) I gave hugs to lots of little ones who reminded me of Adelaide. It both made me miss her and filled that same gap. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a scuffle followed by two little boys crying, one who threw his snack bag at the floor in disgust and then himself flopped to the floor in a heap. I thought I was watching my little one back home throw a tantrum! I figured out that some 3 year old problems are similar in Haiti. Each little boy wanted a 'particular' snack bag (even though they were identical in type and quantity), and the one who had his 'particular' snack bag taken was the one on the floor. "Is this his?" I ask the boy sitting in his desk and point at the snack and then at the boy on the floor. Yes, he nods. Switch snack bags. All is right with the world! Other than saving the world of that 3 year old, I also teach a lesson on Jonah and the whale. Fun stuff! I see a few familiar faces in the crowd too. Faith- the daughter of the missionaries at the Hands and Feet Project was just 1 when we visited last time and her sister, Glory, was on the way (I was pregnant at the same time as her mama then.) Then, I'm talking to the little boys and I can't help but cup their cheeks in my palms- they are so sweet! One of them cups my face in his hands and says, I'm Christlove. Christlove!! Another little one, just a baby when I first met him! He was undernourished at the time and the recipient of much our previous team's affections and photo shoots! How wonderful it is to see these babies grow up healthy! I think, as we continue to visit Haiti, we will see them grow into teenagers and then young adults and so on. How amazing would that be?

        Daniella and Danielle sitting under the wall (and Clovis).

Speaking of watching little ones grow up, after church Alexis took us to see the Hands and Feet Project where the 32 orphans, whom Lex and Renee rescued from orphanage that was exploiting them, live. These were the children we first met in 2010. Among them was Daniella, who I have spoken often about. She is now 15! Being 15, she did not warm up to me right away, which was a challenge because I was so excited to see her. Later she and the other orphans came to our beach at the mission base to swim. I tried talking to her again but I'm all thumbs when it comes to teenagers. And I felt old and uncool all of a sudden. I gave her space to be with her friends and before long she asked me to come talk to her. We swam together with her friends and made jokes about boyfriends and talked about hair and school. We chatted a while, sitting on the wall, practicing English. I found out she wants to be a nurse now and that her favorite color is sky blue. This has to be the highlight of my week in Haiti, to reconnect with her, watch her grow up. I'll never forget how she captured my heart when she was just 10 years old, falling asleep on my lap in church! I didn't have my own kids yet and seriously thought about how I could take her home with me. I only hope I was able to convey my care for her today. She and her friends are quite special, at least in my book.

                           Mauvans

I met someone new that day too. I'm still working on the spelling, but his name is Mauvans. He was recently taken in at the orphanage because he is severely malnourished. At 1 years old, he is just a wee thing. At a second church service that night, he came in, held by his care taker who sat right behind me. I asked if I could him. She consented. Sweet, sweet boy! As I held his tiny frame, I couldn't help but feel how fortunate my babies are. I mean I know I sound like a narrow lensed American here in some respects (truly there are many unfortunate cases of neglected children in the States), and there are many sites of poverty in Haiti that make you realize how much you really have (and how gosh darn ungrateful you are for it). It just so happens that it was here in Haiti where I have encountered this little one. And once again my heart was captured. Maybe I can sponsor him? Maybe I will see him when he is two next year? Maybe I can watch him grow into a healthy, educated, kind hearted young man? These are the kind of things that happen to you when you take a mission trip. You meet people that never would have crossed your path if you stayed home. You want to care for them and wish nothing but the best for them though you did not know them 2 days ago. You are the salt of the earth, Matthew 5 says. If the salt loses it's saltiness it is good for nothing. If we lose our ability to love others, we are good for nothing. God seems to use trips like these to broaden my scope, awaken my heart and sharpen my ability to love others and today he did it through Christlove, Faith and Glory, Daniella, and Mauvans. 

Adventures In Haiti- My Journal (Friday-Saturday)

        

        

     

"It was a wonderful trip! Kyle and I thoroughly enjoyed visiting our friends there and also making new ones!"

If you were to ask me "How was your trip to Haiti?" this is how I would have genuinely replied. It WAS a wonderful trip! And truly, it felt like going home to visit family. But anyone who has ever taken a "mission trip" understands that such a response never seems to fully express all the emotions you felt, the stretching challenges you experienced, the changes that took place in your heart. Such a question, though well-intended, in passing, seems almost trite and it can be overwhelming to summarize the vast experiences that inundated your senses for the past week. To be asked immediatly upon arrival in the States, a week or even a month later seems too quick. There needs to be time to process what you've seen, heard, smelled, and felt. Some may be satiated by the quick answer above. For others, I'm writing for you, because I want you, in some way to be moved too. When my husband goes away even for a short time, I want to know everything that happened while he was away. I want to keep up with him by growing the same way he might have grown through his experiences apart from me. The following is one of several parts of a series in this blog dedicated to letting you in to my thoughts as I journaled them away in an airport, on a bumpy bus, sitting by the ocean, lying in my dorm on the mission base. And it's intended for your growth as well as mine because upon re-entry into my everyday life, devoid of the routines of bug spray, sweating in 98 degree heat, learning creole, and being surrounded by others (mostly of whom do not speak my native tongue.) I need to process. And while I'm doing that, I can answer your question of,  "How was your trip?" a little more thoroughly. Here goes:

Friday, 10:00am

Time to say goodbye to the girls. Man, I'm gonna miss them! The moments before leaving loved ones are always the hardest. You soak in every glimpse of them, every sweet moment, every funny thing they say or do. In fact, when Adelaide woke up this morning she wanted snuggled, a routine upon waking that she had long given up since Mercy came around. I held her like a little baby on the couch and could have cried! Why do they have to do the cutest things right when you're about to leave?!

6:30pm

We are now en route to Haiti. After packing everything into vans and trucks, driving to Kansas City, and making one more phone call to my girls in the airport, we are on our flight to Atlanta, Georgia. My thoughts? I deeply miss Adelaide and Mercy, and hated leaving them behind. But, I can't help but feel like I'm in my element as we embark on this trip. I love doing this stuff! Someday maybe they will come with me. We are a little nervous as our connecting flight to Miami from Atlanta is only 45 minutes apart and Atlanta is a pretty big airport! Tiffany and Chad have been commissioned to "jog" ahead to hold the flight for the rest of us! Tiff is the fastest among us. But before we arrived in Atlanta, Dave received a notification on his phone that our flight to Miami was significantly delayed. So it looks like the Williams won't get their evening run in. 

Saturday, 12:00am

Friday and Saturday are quickly melting into each other.  Our already late arriving flight into Miami was delayed by 2 hours causing us to make the team decision to cancel the hotel reservation we had in Miami. By the time we would have gotten to the hotel it would have been nearly 3am and we may have only gotten 2 hours of sleep before turning around to come back to the airport. Not to mention we would have had to lug 18 bags weighing 50lbs each to the hotel and then back. So instead we will bunk down in the Miami airport to sleep as much as we can until check-in at 4:00am (which actually ended up being 6:00am.) For now, we sit on the plane at mid-night waiting to brave two storm systems along our path, one south of Atlanta and another entering Miami. Should be an interesting evening. 

                                                

2:30am

In the Miami airport. Most of my team is sleeping. I cannot sleep for the life of me. Maybe it's the adrenaline, or the feeling that the day has not seemed to have ended yet, or the fact that there is no comfortable place to sleep. My teamates seem to have overcome the obstacles: Tiffany is stretched out on the strangest shaped bench ever (kind of like a three legged starfish) with her feet propped up on a suitcase. Jan, Turner, Galynn and Chad have found a kind of 'haven' right outside the bathrooms, where it is quiet and carpeted, but the air conditioning is blowing right on them making it freezing. Dave, Ron, and Kyle help me guard the mass of luggage we have. All drift off for moments here and there in their chairs or on the awkward bench. 

4:00am

"Morning" comes and we discover Dunkin Donuts is open. Glory of glories!! Kyle returns with a donut for me and coffee for him. He must be delirious because he has sweetened his coffee. By this point I have been up for 24 plus hours and I didn't even feel tired! It came in other forms than heavy eyes though: like being a little punchy (maybe even grouchy at times I'll admit.) My enthusiasm for trip leading dissipated a little when Air France wanted us to pay for our bags AGAIN. This time $75 a bag! Highway robbery that is! Delta had also left Turner's bag in the Atlanta airport. It was beginning to be just a bit too much for this plan oriented softy. Praise the Lord for my husband who did not crumble under pressure. He stayed firm when I was about to give in. And our good cop, bad cop teamwork paid off. Turns out the mistake was on their end, and after a little convincing of that (;-) we were back on track. Turner's personal luggage is still MIA though. 

9:00am

We finally make it onto the plane bound for Port Au Prince and I am spent! I was asleep before the plane took off!

11:00am

When we arrived in Haiti I couldn't help but be excited through my exhaustion. The heat, the sites and the smells were welcomed though many may not consider them pleasant by some standards. It was even more exciting to be greeted by AJ Edme. So nice to see him again! As we rode through Port Au Prince and it's surrounding areas on the bumpy school bus (that had been signed by others who had come to visit), I was in awe at the improvements to Port Au Prince and the airport. So much has been rebuilt since the earthquake 5 years ago. All the stimulation must have been too much for me apparently because I was soon conked out on my back pack. When we arrived at the base around 1pm, our day was not quite over. We had an orientation (and hugs!) from the missionaries, Lex, Renee and Alexis Edme, then a dip in the ocean. My shower was cold but amazing after a long (2) day(s?). Sleep soon followed around... 7pm?? We found out we will be teaching Sunday school in the morning at church and Kyle will preach! Each day we have a devotional in which there is a place to jot down your prayer time, today I wrote/prayed:

"God, you are sovereign. I trust your plan for whatever happens on this trip. May I honor you with my actions and may my weaknesses be met by your strength."