Adventures in Haiti-My Journal (Friday)

This entry is devoted to the last full day of our recent trip to Haiti. If you haven't been reading through the series, you may want to go back a few entries.

Telling you about how we continued to paint and cut and sand and varnish the desks on Friday seems boring so let me tell you a funny story...

It had been a long day. Most of the team was still cutting, and sanding the remaining tops, seats, and backs of the chairs. 450 pieces total. Galynn and I had been painting the frames, kabitzing all morning (kabitzing is like shooting the breeze, chatting if you will.) I'm not even sure what we even talked about, but when the two of us are together, that's just what happens, we talk and talk and talk...

Once the frames were done we washed the gasoline paint off of us. Renee said we should have brought potato peelers instead of brushes. Funny story within a funny story: each December we would come before and help host this big New Years Eve party, feeding 900 or so people. This involved peeling some 80 pounds of potatoes with these massive chef's knives, at least the first year. It really is my best Haiti story, because I'm pretty sure I got several blisters and ended up bleeding by the time we were done. Ha! The next time we came prepared with potato peelers. And I would tell the potato story over and over because peeling potatoes is one of my least favorite cooking jobs at home. Anyways, I've made a big deal about peeling these potatoes and now there's this task of of painting with gasoline paint and then washing with it off with the gasoline and it's kind of yucky. And I'm slightly WISHING I was peeling potatoes. 

Continue funny story number one. So now the two of us are VARNISHING the 450 pieces and talking away, inhaling, inhaling, inhaling. Do you see where I'm going with this? Galynn and I give up talking and she breaks out into song:

"painting the chairs, painting the chairs, nothing's more fun or much easier done, than painting the chairs, painting the chairs, in HAITI out in the sun!! bum bum bum..."(You need to ask one of us to sing it for the tune. Chad and Tiffany came home singing 'bless the Lord oh my soul!' We were singing about chairs!)

It was either delirium from the heat or we had been huffing too much paint, but it continued into lunch. We were loud and cracking jokes, and then...

I totally crashed. I slid my bowl out in front of me, laid my head down and fell asleep right on the table. Mind you, I'm not taking any of this seriously right now, just laughing my socks off about it! I tried to get back to varnishing after my cat nap, and sang a few choruses of "painting the chairs" with Galynn before she sent me away to sit in front of a fan and drink water. I napped then too. Should have brought potato peelers...

                                 Our cake!

              Some friends at MOHI partying it up!

The job did not get completely finished, but our team had poured themselves into the task until it was quittin' time. We gave the staff at MOHI a little thank you gift (they really are an amazing group of individuals!) and headed back to the base. We like to go out with a little excitement so we managed to bake a cake, don some colorful leis, break out the nose flutes and airboards (should've pulled out the billows too!) and celebrate with the missionaries a bit before a storm rolled in and the generator went off. Party over! We packed up all our things the next morning and headed home with promises not to forget Haiti and MOHI. How could we, right?

                        Headed home!

But it's so easy to forget when something isn't before you all the time.

Fast forward a bit to when we have been home a week. It's our team's day to present our trip and the question comes up, 'what if nobody cares?' It's a valid question. Although I think people do care, they just may be too distracted let it matter. It wasn't their experience, so why would it? The cares, routines and outlook of their lives were not halted for a week to experience a complete overhaul. Even those that go, upon returning find it easy themselves to be distracted by life as we know it here in the States. It seems far away, even to me you know? And I am swept up with the dailies of life and the desires of my flesh. But, God gently calls us back. 

He calls us to remember what we saw and felt, the relationships we made, the names we learned. He calls us not to forget that we lead much different lives than much of the world, that going on a mission trip is a privilege of few, though it may not seem that way because of its commonness in America. He calls us to be like Him because He does not forget the poor, the orphan, the voiceless. He calls us to pray in our absence so that we remember. And He calls us to go back, for a refresher course in loving others sacrificially, so we can also remember that we have a similar calling right here at home. 

Mission trips change your perspective, they change you. But you cannot come back only to simply be grateful for what you have that others don't. There are some lyrics I listened to that struck me recently. Summarized they say that if I give to the needy, but don't love them I find that all that poverty is actually found in me. Giving a package of clothes without love leads you to only be grateful that you have a closet full of clothes at home. But with love, every time you see your closet you think of that person without clothes and become compelled to move to action on their behalf (and if you recognize that there are those without in the United States, even in your very city, you will move on their behalf as well.) Poverty is found in us when we don't truly change. We are the sad, the broken, if we have seen and touched the truly poor and turn away, grateful, but forgetful.

Have you ever seen one of those fancy horses pulling carriages in the city? I kind of feel bad for them cause they look so rigid and uptight, pulling that cart slooowly along (horses are meant to run wild or something ya know?) But one thing they've got going for them is that they are steady in the right direction, cause they've got those blinders on them. They're not enticed or hyped up by all the stimulation of the street people and shops, they're focused and guided by their master. I've been praying for blinders lately, so I too can no longer be distracted by everything that makes me forget about what's important. To throw off everything that hinders and run the race marked out for us, as the author of Hebrews 12 talks about. It's hard intentional work to care, to not forget, and honestly? It makes peeling potatoes and painting chairs look easy.

Adventures in Haiti- My Journal (Thursday)

This is a series detailing our recent trip to Haiti and a lot has happened already! Near bus collisions, sleeping outside bathrooms, hydroponic fish ponds...if you haven't been keeping up you better read back or you'll miss some good stuff!

Have I mentioned before that I am not a morning person? Kyle is. So back home the deal is: I won't make him stay up late to talk to me (I generally need someone to 'talk' me to sleep if I have to go to bed earlier than 11pm) if he does morning duty with the girls (up at 5:30am to make them breakfast and play until I get up at like 7:30.) So getting up at 5:30am each day was a stretch and I must have been feeling it because the first words out of my mouth this morning were, "Lord, give me energy." I have prayed this many times before (remember I have two feisty little girls under the age of 3?) Not knowing what was on the agenda for today, I just know this was God's grace that prompted me to pray this. 

Our job today was to make desks. We were to paint the freshly welded frames, and draw, cut, sand and paint the backs, seats and tops for the desks. In my devos that morning:

The Lord will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land

and will strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well watered garden,

like a spring whose waters never fail. 

Isaiah 58:11

I have history with this verse too, on a another mission trip to Matamoros, Mexico as a teenager. A woman in my church in Pennsylvania, who I affectionately call my Aunt Cindi, jotted that verse down and handed it to me in an envelope. I had a dream on the trip one night about running. I have been running for exercise for a while. I don't consider myself a 'runner' because I am downright pokey and just plain lacking in stamina. But in my dream I wasn't lacking anything. I ran and ran and ran without resistence, feeling light and like I could on forever with gusto! I finished my run at my home where I grew up in Pennsylvania and encountered a tiger. And that was my dream. I woke up with the sense that God was going to give me energy for the day, that He would strengthen my body in what was quite a sun scorched land (it was Mexico after all). And I just attributed the tiger to eating something funny before bed (maybe too much Joya soda?) 

That day in Mexico, our team helped pour a concrete roof in the hot sun. We had to mix the concrete by hand, shovel it into 5 gallon buckets and then hoist the buckets by handing them up a line of us standing on the stairs, until they poured it onto the roof. The lye in the concrete gave some of us mild chemical burns on our skin. It was back breaking work, but I felt that energry and strength reminiscent of my dream. I was standing out on the road, taking a sip of water, when I looked down the street of the colonia. A vehicle was driving away not too far from where I was standing. I blinked and blinked again. Could it really be? No way. There was a tiger in a cage in the back of a truck bed! You can call me crazy, cause there was no one else looking that way. No one else saw it. But I know what I saw.

There were no tigers in Haiti, but I drew from that strength as we spent a very hot day painting 22 desks frames. First though we had to get the paint. So while we waited for it, Galynn, Turner and I inventoried and put away all the medicines we brought with us to donate. What a good feeling to stock up the clinic's shelves with tylenol, and cough medicine and everything else! 

             Putting the medicine away.

The paint arrived. It was bad paint, so it had to go back for different paint. In the meantime, we jumped in with the crew cutting out the pieces for the desks and began to sand the ones that were already cut out. Many of the students joined to help too, which was awesome! I loved too how each of the team members used their unique talents to accomplish this task. Dave wielded the power saw and cut large strips of wood. Tiffany is quite an artist, so she traced all of the pieces. Kyle and Chad deftly cut out each piece and Ron sanded, sanded, sanded! And so did we for a bit...

                        Our handiwork.

...until the paint arrived again. It was good, and we got to work! The paint we used was oil based and so thick it had to be cut with gasoline. And if you have ever seen me paint you know I get it ALL OVER ME when I do so. The only way to get it off was to use gasoline. At the end of the day after sweating profusely, getting sunburned, having my clothing stained with paint and washing most of my skin with gasoline, I felt miserably disgusting. But amazingly, for a day where I woke up praying for energy, my stamina kept up.

Oh, and Jan hung out with the kids all day, dancing and singing, and teaching them yoga. So cute!

When we stepped off the bus at the mission base and the breeze hit us, I was so very thankful again for the haven it truly was. Then I showered, and showered and showered some more (which was like 5 minutes actually because we were supposed to conserve water.) Too bad we didn't finish today. I would have to be covered in gasoline again tomorrow. Nobody light a match!

Adventures In Haiti- My Journal (Wednesday)

Thankful to have the outlet to process and share this series detailing our recent trip to Haiti. Be sure to read back a few entries to get the full week of stories.

POW! Dadadada...THUMP!

 "Mango!"

Tiffany dashes for the mango, racing to snatch it up. She retrieves it and hands it over to Galynn, who salivates over it as she carves the skin off carefully with Chad's leatherman knife. She continues to do the same with the other three gathered yesterday and passes the plate of freshly fallen mango around our breakfast table. I stare at the mango longingly and fearfully. I've been watching Galynn eat it all week, but I am still leery. In previous trips to developing countries, eating fruit off trees was a no-go, unless you wanted a parasite. Mostly this was because the water that fruits and veggies were washed in was parasite ridden. You know, 'don't drink the water' (lest you want your system cleared.) Since we were last at MOHI, a kind and very smart man installed a water system he patented that purified and cleaned the water better than our water in the States. This meant we could drink any water on the base, brush our teeth out of the sink (which because of previous habit, I was still skeptical of), and heck, drink the water in the shower. So eating a mango that had been 'baptized' in the mission water should be fine. I watched everyone else eat it but I still couldn't. Hey, one person on the team had to stay healthy to take care of everyone else, right? I guess that makes me the designated driver of the mango eating. 

I also couldn't imagine getting back home to my kids only to be too sick to care for them. I suppose I have grown more fearful since my girls have come into the picture of my life. Even before leaving for Haiti, I had my worries- Haiti is not a particularly volatile place, but the possibilities for mishaps when traveling struck fear in my heart. Watching a news story prior to going about a pilot who crashed a plane in Melbourne, Florida because he was drunk did not help. I guess I was just a little fearful of something unforseen and feeling aware of the fragility of my life. What if I contract malaria, get into a car accident or the plane crashes? 

When my mom and dad were saying their goodbyes as they left me in my freshman college dorm, my dad told me to read Psalm 121. I'd like to read it to you, ok?

     I lift my eyes to the hills.

     From where does my help come?

     My help comes from the Lord,

     who made heaven and earth.

     He will not let your foot slip;

     he who keeps you will not slumber.

     Behold, he who keeps Israel

     will neither slumber nor sleep.

     The Lord is your keeper;

     the Lord is your shade at your right hand.

     The sun will not harm you by day,

     nor the moon by night.

     The Lord will keep you from all harm---

     he will watch over you life;

     the Lord will watch over your coming and going

     both now and forevermore.

I got a chance to revisit that passage in our morning time with the Lord. And I had a thought: We are all so fragile--it is a wonder any of us survive. But God is our keeper and I praise him for his mercy to allow any of us to live. Then my thoughts turned outward, asking God to have mercy on that little baby girl I held in the village, that she would grow healthy and strong and that her life would glorify God. I desire to live with abandon, knowing God is the keeper of my life. 

And up, up, up, we rode in the big school bus, weaving around the mountain, honking our horn at oncoming traffic as we rounded the bends. I looked at the panoramic view of Haiti out the windows on the right side. I could see the mountains and the town and the ocean. Beautiful.

"Our driver has our life in his hands," I heard someone say and I took notice of the elevation we were at. It was a long drop. I shuddered at the thought and then pushed it away. Around another bend, BEEEEEEP! A semi passed us going the other direction on the turn and I held my breath.

We were on our way to St. Entienne, the church and school campus in the mountains. The bus pulled into a tight parking spot and Alexis showed us around. Again, so much growth since we were last here. Besides a school and a church, another beautiful building was erected and plans for a restaurant that would overlook the picturesque mountains were in place. For now, it was being used by the mobile clinic that came each wednesday to care for the sick. 

Below it was a school where we took our musical prowess to have fun with the little kids. Jan brought colorful bells for the children to play. She would hold up cards with color circles that coordinated with music on a cd. When the kids would see the color on the card that matched their colored bell, that meant they were to ring it. It was so fun! To add to the excitement Jan had also brought all kinds of colorful flags to use. Galynn and I grabbed a billow (large piece of colorful fabric) and headed into the crowd of students, running up and down the aisles, sweeping the billow just over their heads and twirling around like goof balls. I was not illiciting much laughter, or smiles. So I asked if one of the students wanted to try. A boy, who was obviously the class clown took the billow and mimicked me. The class ERUPTED with laughter and yelling!! He was hysterical and all eyes turned on him and he ate it up! Definitely an amazing moment!

We concluded our musical fun, and put thing 1 and thing 2 back in their boxes. Some of us went upstairs and began organizing more bags of clothing to hand out, while others stayed below to play with kids. I snuggled a baby in the clinic, who fell sweetly asleep and it felt good to have my arms full again. As lunch arrived, we began handing out the clothing packages to those who were coming through the clinic. This time, we sized them up and tried to match them as best as possible with clothing that would fit. As God's grace would have it, we had the perfect amount for the people in the clinic and for the most part, we were able to give clothing that fit, with the exception of one young lady who was not happy I gave her the only woman's package left- a size XL. She was not convinced by my effort in suggesting a belt or scarf around the waist. 

You cannot go to St. Entienne without taking the 3 mile hike to see the waterfall in the mountains. It's sort of becoming a tradition. Actually, the waterfall is not all that incredible but everything else as you are getting there and back is. With Jan and Dave headed back to the base, the rest of us descended the steep mountain towards the falls. Vistas of lush green hills jutting up toward the sky, covered with small fields planted with corn or beans surrounded us. Often we walked along narrow paths with a plummet off to the side of us, clung to the hillside as we carefully stepped over a break in the path, or paused to allow each individual to dare a dry but slippery slope of loose dirt and rocks. We encountered a donkey on our route who refused to move until its owner smacked him in the bum to get him off the trail. We also braved a few bulls grazing in our way. Approaching the falls, I had to hold on to a root to cross a break in the path and found myself picking what reminded me of Devil's Club out of my fingers. Tiny barbed hairs stuck in my skin, stinging my fingers and making them itch. Luckily, my cute husband rescued me with his first aid kit. He had been taking care of blisters and cut feet and any other ailment on our team all week. I love my Eagle Scout and his dedication to 'Always be prepared.' 

On our way out, we climbed (some of us ran) up a steep hillside to the top where a kind, elderly man appeared from his home with chairs for us to rest on. He spoke in Creole to Alexis and Gadith about his prescriptions. I gathered he was having headaches (I heard doule-pain, and he pointed to his head). The girls kindly explained what he should be taking and when (I think, it was all in Creole ya know.) I was impressed by this ministry 'on the move.' Even on an excursion, you can be a blessing to others and I was thankful for this little act of 'village ministry' (even if Alexis and Gadith did all the work.) We had more climbing to do, so up we want. As we climbed a steep hill, I learned that one of my teammates had a fear of heights. That person very much conquered that fear today. 

Speaking of fears, I must have overcome some of mine because I had no problem falling asleep on the bus ride home. Although, I am told we had a seriously close encounter with a tap-tap that we almost hit head on. Like I said, I was asleep, so I don't have the details. Kind of glad for that. But it did occur to me later as I looked back on our hike that much of the trail we were on was pretty precarious and a small accident could have become a big incident "He will not let your foot slip..." Thank you Jesus. Maybe I conquered some fear too. Now maybe I'll try some mango.