It's been one year today. You'll see it all over the news. That is a bit comforting, to know that it's not just me and those others that were in Haiti on January 12 last year that are still remembering. I remember thinking at the moment of the earthquake that it wouldn't even make the evening news in America. But I was wrong. The whole world turned its attention to this little Caribbean nation, and the whole world watched their remarkable response to tragedy: they lifted their hands and their voices to God, in worship and prayer. I spent a sleepless night on a soccer field with 2000 of them as they led us in a stunning symphony of prayer, praise, worship, scripture quotation and tears. One lady standing nearby must have been their worship leader, because her voice was so pure, so strong, so tireless. She sang for hours. When one group's praying quieted, another group picked up with a song. When they grew silent, someone started to quote Psalms. We heard Psalm 121 repeatedly. "I will lift up my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth."
The lap of the Father.
One year later, what are my thoughts? It's only 8 in the morning, so I have yet to get through much of the day, but so far mostly tears, sadness, grief for the losses. Tears of thankfulness for my own safety of the safety of those I know. Tears of gratitude to be home with my loved ones. Lots of tears. These tears have made their appearance many times over the past year. At first, I was waking up in the night sobbing uncontrollably, and finding myself in the middle of my day having to stop and go be alone to cry for a while. And I found I couldn't get through a single worship service at church, when everyone was singing of the goodness of God, worshiping Him...it was too tender of a spot in my heart. I had truly tasted a mere sip of the glories of the presence of God and it overwhelmed me. As the year went on, I found I had to restrain my heart from going too close. I didn't like that feeling of having to hold back from experiencing God.
So this morning, I let it flow. Listening to music written by anointed songwriters and sung by golden voices, I wept. I weep for the great loss. I weep for the hopelessness. I weep for pain and suffering of so many. I weep for the children who have no parents. I weep for the lack of order. I weep for the magnitude of the recovery. I weep for the burdens my friends bear. I weep for the lack of restoration even one year later. I weep for the confusion.
But I also cry because of the example set before me of choosing to worship when all is lost. This has been a life altering lesson for me and every time I think about those people with their hands in the air walking through the rubble, I feel challenged.
Since we are at the beginning of a new year, I have been thinking a lot about goals, resolutions. I had some, but today I am thinking my Number One goal should be to train my heart and mind to worship in every circumstance. The immediate response. So if a rock hits my windshield, "thank you Lord." If I get sick, "praise you Jesus." If we lose our business, "God, you are good."
Lord, turn your eye toward Haiti today. Let your lovingkindness flow in that place in 2011. May the power of your Holy Spirit enable strong and good leadership to rise up and transform this small nation. May it be a testimony of your faithfulness, as your people join together and humble themselves and pray and repent for the sins of their nation - may you then restore their land to a shining example of your goodness. I pray that we will look back, many years from now, and see the hand of the Lord at work to build a nation of people that is a bright light in the world. And may I learn to turn to you with thanksgiving in every circumstance, in every blessing and in every trial. Thank you, oh God, and may your name be glorified throughout the earth.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Worship lyrics
Be careful what you sing…
I’ve been pondering the words to some of the worship songs we sing. I remember many years ago, a pastor speaking out about a popular worship song related to a scripture in Joel 2. The scripture was a reference to the judgment the people of Israel were going to suffer at the hand of God because of their disobedience. “They rush on the city, they run on the wall, great is the army that carries out His word.” Well, that was talking about the army that was rushing in to destroy Israel, and we were singing and clapping to that, like it was some victory dance we were going to enjoy!
So, since then, I’ve always looked with a critical eye about what we sing. A year or so ago, while singing, “I will praise Him til it works out” or “He comes through” or something like that… No, I will praise God even if it doesn’t work out.
Most recently, I’ve questioned these lyrics: “show me Your glory” and “I want to see Your face.” Really? Not me! I’m not ready yet! I saw just enough of the glorious nature of God’s presence (like I’ve never seen before or since) the night of the earthquake - when all those beautiful Haitian Christians worshipped until morning, thanking God for their very lives - to make me hide from it again. I am undone when I just taste just a tiny touch of the presence of God. I can’t stop crying, I can’t function, I can’t do anything.
And this one: “Break my heart for what breaks Yours…” Um, no way. We cannot bear it. I am seeing just a tiny bit of what breaks God’s heart right now, and I can’t handle it.
Though we are filled with the Holy Spirit, we are still in our human form. We do not have our glorified bodies, minds or emotions yet. That is coming in Heaven someday (which, by the way, I am now really looking forward to). So how do we think we can take all this intense level of emotional or spiritual experience? It’s akin to spiritual pride, really. I am learning that I am far from the place where I can handle a glimpse of the glory of God, or see His face, or look upon the pain that plagues the earth, sharing in the broken-heartedness of God. Remember when Moses came down from his mountain-top experience with God? He asked, “now, show me Your glory,” and God agreed to show him just his back as His goodness passed by. He told Moses, “for no one may see Me and live.” Even that got Moses to glowing so much that they had to veil his face so normal people could talk to him. And each time Moses met with God, the veil had to go back on. Now that’s Moses, a man who spoke verbally with God.
Who am I?
May we not be so presumptuous as to forget that God is magnificent, utterly holy, untouchable, so much so that we cannot approach. Yet. One day, when we are ready, we will see him face to face, not like a poor reflection – which is what we have available to us now.
I long to see God’s face, to touch Him, to hear His voice…but I will wait, and I will look forward with anticipation to be able to experience this fully.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Update: October 25, 2010
It’s been nine months now since the earthquake in Haiti changed the lives of millions of people, including my own. Now we are reading reports of cholera threatening the city of Port au Prince, and we are feverishly praying for God’s hand of mercy to stem the tide of sickness that could further devastate the country. Thanks to those of you who have prayed and given for your outpouring of love to a nation that most of you have never visited. It is a true sign of the love among the body of Christ when strangers help one another. This is the way it should be.
Just to recap the year: from January until July, we have been able to provide immediate disaster relief for the orphanage needs in the form of food, water purification, a large 20’ x 40’ tent for holding school, clothing, shoes, kitchen supplies, school supplies, and teacher salary assistance. Many Haitian pastors wanted to get the children back to school as soon as possible after the quake, but in reality it wasn’t until April or May that this was possible. Though it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, school re-opened in early May for the children at Val’s. My daughter and I were able to go and visit at the end of May, collecting more images and video of the situation, and seeing first hand the living conditions, which are appalling.
And…I wanted to give an update on what has happened in the last few months:
TRUCK: My husband Kirk and I were able to go and visit the weekend of July 30, and we were joyfully collected at the airport by Pastor Val in a brand new truck! Through the generosity of many, we were able to send him enough money to fully pay for this much-needed vehicle and for several years of insurance. He had been driving a clunker of an Isuzu Trooper, with no window crank handles, barely functional anything, and a dash of indicator lights that were constantly aglow. It was by sheer prayer that we were ever safely transported anywhere, especially during the earthquake. When he made his needs known about this situation, we hurriedly gathered the funds, and God was gracious to supply. It is a double cab, four-wheel drive diesel pick-up, “Great Wall” is the model name, a Chinese product.
SHELTER: Our initial goal was to raise enough funds (approximately $200K) to rebuild the orphanage complex that would house 50 children, staff, a kitchen and dining facility. There would also be space for several classrooms. As we began this effort in earnest, another non-profit came forward and offered to do it all, at their expense. We were very happy to have this offer and saw it as the provision of God. While we wait for this building to be constructed, which may take a long time, we felt the need to provide something immediately. We showed Pastor Val an example of a semi-permanent structure and spoke with him about the possibility of purchasing several of these “kits” that could be conjoined into one unit. There are several organizations building these types of kits in Haiti, and we were familiar with one in particular, Maxima, S.A. in Port au Prince. It was a win-win all around, because Maxima is a Haitian company which employs Haitians! We purchased 5 kits, and they were delivered to Pastor Val last week. As soon as they can put them together, which only takes a few days, the children can sleep indoors for the first time in 9 months! This will solve the problem of shelter in the short/medium term…the shelters are made of plywood, coated with a thick paint, and are hurricane and earthquake proof when put together correctly. They can only last from 3-5 years though, so a long-term solution is necessary.
OTHER DEVELOPMENT PROJECTS: It is our greatest desire to not only meet immediate needs, but to help solve more basic problems in this village. Many of the children that Pastor Val cares for do indeed have families. Some even sleep at home, but spend their days at the orphanage simply because their families cannot afford to take care of their most basic needs. Pastor Val feeds many more children than actually sleep there. The core problem is employment. There is very little beyond farming that is available to the average rural Haitian family, and while the women are busy taking care of children, washing clothes, and trying to find clean water and some food, many men are standing idly around the local gathering spots with nothing to do and no way to make a living. In addition to helping Pastor Val take care of the children, we want to help him develop some of his land and bring some opportunities to the village of Bongnotte. We have already sent some money to begin the following projects:
Bakery: One need that he alerted us to is the availability of bread. It is a long 3 or 4-mile walk down a muddy road to the nearest market, and the need for a local source of bread is obvious. Building a bakery would answer the need for bread, but it would also provide jobs and job training.
Food Depot: There is also a need for a food depot that could store food for the orphanage, and also be a source of supplies and food for the community. The employees of the food depot could therefore turn a profit for the orphanage.
Trade School: Education and training is also of utmost importance and we are now discussing the possibility of providing scholarships to worthy older teens at the orphanage to attend a trade school in Carrefour.
As elections take place (hopefully) in November and the one-year anniversary of the quake approaches, we anticipate a lot of violence and rioting in the city over the next few months. We have to decided to post-pone any trips until after commotion of the anniversary and probably will not go to Haiti until March. Please pray with us for a smooth election process and transition of power, as well as peace to reign in the country. Also as we watch the news of cholera beginning to spread, pray for God to end the epidemic and prevent it from getting into the tent cities. All of our concerns are based on the human observations of what is going on, however, our God is able to do all things and we are praying with this sort of faith. Please join us!
Slowly, good things are happening. It has been a little frustrating to watch and wait for change from here, where everything is so easily obtained and executed. We are all very grateful for everyone's generosity.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
A Fruitful Planning Weekend
July 30 through August 1...only a short weekend, but packed full of fruitful discussions with Pastor Val. My husband, Kirk and I went to Haiti together for the express purpose of nailing down details, coordinating some plans, and facilitating communication among key people in order to get a roof over 50 children's heads. As soon as possible.
The weekend started early on a Friday morning, wrestling four plastic foot lockers full of school supplies and other needed items. However, upon arrival at the very busy ticket counter, we were promptly told we couldn't check those types of items. Then it was a mad scramble to purchase four huge duffel bags (from another charity, oddly enough, who was selling them via American Airlines for just such a reason as this!) and transfer everything that had been so carefully packed. Of course, all of the crayons exited their boxes and resulted in a stew of crayola, pencils, pens and erasers at the bottom of the bags!
Otherwise the trip was uneventful, and we arrived without incident at the Port au Prince airport in the heat of the day. Standing in the parking lot, the daily storm was moving in as we
looked up into the hills from the trees that swayed so violently over us during the earthquake. This was our view on January 12 - the dust from crumbling buildings rising in the distance.
And there he was. Pastor Val standing proudly with his new truck that our friends helped purchase. It is a black Great Wall, a Chinese-made diesel 4X4 pick-up, with seats for 5. He was so excited to finally be driving it, and we were thrilled to be the beneficiaries of its virtues: air conditioning, windows that actually operate, a dashboard whose warning lights don't stay lit constantly. Reliable transportation amidst the assaults of exhaust, heat humidity, filth and dust. Hallelujah!
We headed out toward Leogane, driving around the cracks in the road created by the shaking earth. We picked up a friend from back home, Katie, who is living in Carrefour for the summer and made our way out of the city's chaos and into the green of the countryside. The storm was fast approaching as we left the main road and took the muddy trail up to the orphanage.
There was a joyous reunion when we arrived, but it was short-lived as we were
warned to get back to the main road as quickly as possible, as the rain would certainly raise the nearby river to wash out the "road," trapping us behind it. Though only about four in the afternoon, the sky was dark with clouds. The lightening was terrifying as it flashed all around us, with no real place to hide. Lightening and thunder were simultaneous and the children covered their ears in fear. Even I, who am a fan of storms, was feeling a little vulnerable. We left for the twenty-minute ride in the pouring rain for the guest house, where we would enjoy a bed, a shower and a roof over our heads. It all became incredibly real at that moment. We had to get those kids under a roof.
The next day, we planned to spend with the children. Pastor Val picked us up at 9 and we ventured out to a local street market for some avocados and bread. It was a dizzying cornucopia of sensory overload - mud and filth beneath our feet; a woman with a blaring bullhorn; angry chickens hanging off the back of a scooter; raw, fly-infested meat for sale in the hot sun; a drug-crazed youth sitting naked with a woman's lace skirt stretched over his hips; mangoes, coconuts and plantains...we are no longer in Kansas (or North Carolina).
Pastor Val's two cell phones rang incessantly - between the demands of being a pastor and running a taxi service, he is in high demand. He told us, "I have not scheduled anything else this weekend, so that I can host you." But clearly one phone call got his attention and he was obviously conflicted.
Maggie, one of his parishioners, had taken her 5-year-old neighbor boy to the hospital. He was in a diabetic coma and had not eaten or drunk anything for a few days. He was at the Doctors Without Borders hospital in Leogane, 45 minutes from where we were headed. His parents did not believe in Christ, and Maggie felt compelled to ask Pastor Val to come and pray for the boy, since his parents would not think to ask for such a thing. Clearly, Pastor Val wanted to go. We assured him that we could accomplish everything that we came to do while driving (especially now that we could close the windows!) and that it would be our privilege to accompany him in this task.
On the way, we passed a
building that was made of pre-fab walls, made to last 5-6 years. We had considered this option at first; there is a factory doing the same thing in PAP that some Dutch missionaries started and is now operated by Haitians. The kits for the buildings can be put together in a day on a prepared concrete slab, so several of these small structures would provide shelter in a hurry. Pastor Val was intrigued and we could tell he was thinking. I told him that we had enough money raised to buy 7 or 8 of these kits, providing a secure home for up to 50 people. Now he was really interested. He said he'd like to visit the factory after we left.
When we arrived at the hospital, the staff told us we were not permitted to visit until noon. It was 11:30, but they adhered to strict visitor schedules. However, in just a few minutes, we were escorted one at a time into the temporary hospital. Temporary structure, but there was nothing skimpy about the staff, equipment or care. Top of the line. I am so glad.
I went first. The little boy was lying unconscious (or in a deep sleep), an IV of fluids and nutrients flowing into his veins. Dear Maggie was holding his small hand. I asked a few basic questions in the miniscule amount of Kreyol I know - how old is he? what is his name? has he eaten? fever? A nurse drew blood; he didn't even flinch. I laid my hands on him and began to pray. Bring healing Lord. You are the Great Physician, touch this little boy with your great power and bring him to wholeness, wellness and take away this affliction. From the top of his head, to the soles of his feet. Amen.
There was an old woman in the bed next to his (and I just can't remember his name!) and I threw up a prayer for her. She looked close to death. I think this was the ER. Another boy had some body part bandaged. Pastor Val went back after I came out, and took his turn petitioning the Lord for healing. We were able to speak with the dad for a few minutes and told him we prayed. Then it was back to our original plan. Pastor Val called his sister Yrma and alerted her that we were on our way, and that we wanted some of her good cooking. Rice and beans would be fine, thank you.
When we got there, we immediately distributed some water guns to the boys. Oh my goodness...great idea. They had a blast. The girls were immediately feeling left out, and so I produced four bottles of nail polish and got to work. And crayons and coloring books. And play dough. The boys still seemed to have more fun; probably because Kirk was in the thick of it. He
came back soaked to the skin - some water, some sweat, I'm sure.
We wandered the grounds talking to Pastor Val of septic systems and footings. I snapped lots of photos. We played whiffle ball. I gave Daril, the eldest child at the orphanage, my Ipod Shuffle loaded with awesome worship music. He had been so intrigued with it last time I was there, and I never use it at home. More discussions about the future, about timing and community development. It's bigger than just an orphanage building. That whole community needs jobs, stability and growth. Lots of capable men are just sitting under mango trees wasting their days away. It is a pathetic situation. But we have a plan. Pastor Val has been pondering this for a long time and now is the time.
Another storm rolled in and we were hurried away again by the warnings about the rising river. Back to the safety of the guest house.
(Major tangent: When we got back to the guest house preparations were well underway for a wedding that was taking place within the hour. Guests had started arriving and the reception was prepared. The rain was holding off, so the outdoor wedding was still on. We noticed how decked out all the guests were: tuxedos, three-piece suits, top hats, formal gowns, white gloves, little girls dressed as brides, etc. This was going to be quite a party. One of the American women, Carol, that works at this compound came over to us and chatted with us about the spectacle. She told us this was the wedding of one of the staff, and she knew her well. As we talked, an SUV pulled up with a bride in the back. How fun! We were going to see the arrival of the bride. But then a second bride got out of the SUV... and our new American friend told us neither was the actual real bride. We were perplexed. Both of these 'brides' had the white dress, the veil, the flowers...Carol said that they really do get dressed up for weddings here! Well, okay then. I wouldn't like to be upstaged by other brides at MY wedding, but then again, we're not in America!)
As the rain began to fall, Kirk looked at me with realization in his eyes: "It's really raining hard." That was all he said. It fell like that for at least 4 hours. We were sobered to think of our friends, just a few miles away having to cope with the unthinkable all night long.
In the morning, Tingue - a Haitian engineer who lives on the compound we stayed at - came and talked to us about the building project for Pastor Val. That was a great conversation and we got a lot of answers. Then when Pastor Val came to pick us up, we were able to get him and Tingue talking, which proved to be the most valuable 30 minutes of the whole weekend. There had been several layers of people between these two men and a lot of misunderstandings had occurred. Everything from the building project to food distribution was tangled in a web of confusion. The Lord had us there to facilitate that brief conversation and exchange of phone numbers and names for the benefit of Pastor Val and the orphanage. If for no other reason, I am glad we went to Haiti for that short visit.
Now, we are back home, have raised a bunch more money and are well on our way to streamlining our efforts on the US side. It is a joy and a privilege to come alongside such a faithful and humble man of God to encourage him, pray for him and help him provide for the needy in his community. We are so grateful to God for opening the most unexpected doors of opportunity for him and for us.
And there is now a precious church of about 100 people in the Pacific Northwest that has opened its heart to Pastor Val. In one momentous event, they managed to give enough money to completely pay for the semi-permanent housing that we looked at with Pastor Val. This will provide immediate housing while we wait for the permanent building to come to fruition.
Thank you to all of the generous people who have shared of their time, talent and finances. And Pastor Val always tells us to say, "Thank you" to you as well.
It is heartfelt.
The weekend started early on a Friday morning, wrestling four plastic foot lockers full of school supplies and other needed items. However, upon arrival at the very busy ticket counter, we were promptly told we couldn't check those types of items. Then it was a mad scramble to purchase four huge duffel bags (from another charity, oddly enough, who was selling them via American Airlines for just such a reason as this!) and transfer everything that had been so carefully packed. Of course, all of the crayons exited their boxes and resulted in a stew of crayola, pencils, pens and erasers at the bottom of the bags!
Otherwise the trip was uneventful, and we arrived without incident at the Port au Prince airport in the heat of the day. Standing in the parking lot, the daily storm was moving in as we
looked up into the hills from the trees that swayed so violently over us during the earthquake. This was our view on January 12 - the dust from crumbling buildings rising in the distance.And there he was. Pastor Val standing proudly with his new truck that our friends helped purchase. It is a black Great Wall, a Chinese-made diesel 4X4 pick-up, with seats for 5. He was so excited to finally be driving it, and we were thrilled to be the beneficiaries of its virtues: air conditioning, windows that actually operate, a dashboard whose warning lights don't stay lit constantly. Reliable transportation amidst the assaults of exhaust, heat humidity, filth and dust. Hallelujah!
We headed out toward Leogane, driving around the cracks in the road created by the shaking earth. We picked up a friend from back home, Katie, who is living in Carrefour for the summer and made our way out of the city's chaos and into the green of the countryside. The storm was fast approaching as we left the main road and took the muddy trail up to the orphanage.
There was a joyous reunion when we arrived, but it was short-lived as we were
warned to get back to the main road as quickly as possible, as the rain would certainly raise the nearby river to wash out the "road," trapping us behind it. Though only about four in the afternoon, the sky was dark with clouds. The lightening was terrifying as it flashed all around us, with no real place to hide. Lightening and thunder were simultaneous and the children covered their ears in fear. Even I, who am a fan of storms, was feeling a little vulnerable. We left for the twenty-minute ride in the pouring rain for the guest house, where we would enjoy a bed, a shower and a roof over our heads. It all became incredibly real at that moment. We had to get those kids under a roof.
The next day, we planned to spend with the children. Pastor Val picked us up at 9 and we ventured out to a local street market for some avocados and bread. It was a dizzying cornucopia of sensory overload - mud and filth beneath our feet; a woman with a blaring bullhorn; angry chickens hanging off the back of a scooter; raw, fly-infested meat for sale in the hot sun; a drug-crazed youth sitting naked with a woman's lace skirt stretched over his hips; mangoes, coconuts and plantains...we are no longer in Kansas (or North Carolina).
Pastor Val's two cell phones rang incessantly - between the demands of being a pastor and running a taxi service, he is in high demand. He told us, "I have not scheduled anything else this weekend, so that I can host you." But clearly one phone call got his attention and he was obviously conflicted.
Maggie, one of his parishioners, had taken her 5-year-old neighbor boy to the hospital. He was in a diabetic coma and had not eaten or drunk anything for a few days. He was at the Doctors Without Borders hospital in Leogane, 45 minutes from where we were headed. His parents did not believe in Christ, and Maggie felt compelled to ask Pastor Val to come and pray for the boy, since his parents would not think to ask for such a thing. Clearly, Pastor Val wanted to go. We assured him that we could accomplish everything that we came to do while driving (especially now that we could close the windows!) and that it would be our privilege to accompany him in this task.
On the way, we passed a
building that was made of pre-fab walls, made to last 5-6 years. We had considered this option at first; there is a factory doing the same thing in PAP that some Dutch missionaries started and is now operated by Haitians. The kits for the buildings can be put together in a day on a prepared concrete slab, so several of these small structures would provide shelter in a hurry. Pastor Val was intrigued and we could tell he was thinking. I told him that we had enough money raised to buy 7 or 8 of these kits, providing a secure home for up to 50 people. Now he was really interested. He said he'd like to visit the factory after we left.When we arrived at the hospital, the staff told us we were not permitted to visit until noon. It was 11:30, but they adhered to strict visitor schedules. However, in just a few minutes, we were escorted one at a time into the temporary hospital. Temporary structure, but there was nothing skimpy about the staff, equipment or care. Top of the line. I am so glad.
I went first. The little boy was lying unconscious (or in a deep sleep), an IV of fluids and nutrients flowing into his veins. Dear Maggie was holding his small hand. I asked a few basic questions in the miniscule amount of Kreyol I know - how old is he? what is his name? has he eaten? fever? A nurse drew blood; he didn't even flinch. I laid my hands on him and began to pray. Bring healing Lord. You are the Great Physician, touch this little boy with your great power and bring him to wholeness, wellness and take away this affliction. From the top of his head, to the soles of his feet. Amen.
There was an old woman in the bed next to his (and I just can't remember his name!) and I threw up a prayer for her. She looked close to death. I think this was the ER. Another boy had some body part bandaged. Pastor Val went back after I came out, and took his turn petitioning the Lord for healing. We were able to speak with the dad for a few minutes and told him we prayed. Then it was back to our original plan. Pastor Val called his sister Yrma and alerted her that we were on our way, and that we wanted some of her good cooking. Rice and beans would be fine, thank you.
When we got there, we immediately distributed some water guns to the boys. Oh my goodness...great idea. They had a blast. The girls were immediately feeling left out, and so I produced four bottles of nail polish and got to work. And crayons and coloring books. And play dough. The boys still seemed to have more fun; probably because Kirk was in the thick of it. He
came back soaked to the skin - some water, some sweat, I'm sure.We wandered the grounds talking to Pastor Val of septic systems and footings. I snapped lots of photos. We played whiffle ball. I gave Daril, the eldest child at the orphanage, my Ipod Shuffle loaded with awesome worship music. He had been so intrigued with it last time I was there, and I never use it at home. More discussions about the future, about timing and community development. It's bigger than just an orphanage building. That whole community needs jobs, stability and growth. Lots of capable men are just sitting under mango trees wasting their days away. It is a pathetic situation. But we have a plan. Pastor Val has been pondering this for a long time and now is the time.
Another storm rolled in and we were hurried away again by the warnings about the rising river. Back to the safety of the guest house.
(Major tangent: When we got back to the guest house preparations were well underway for a wedding that was taking place within the hour. Guests had started arriving and the reception was prepared. The rain was holding off, so the outdoor wedding was still on. We noticed how decked out all the guests were: tuxedos, three-piece suits, top hats, formal gowns, white gloves, little girls dressed as brides, etc. This was going to be quite a party. One of the American women, Carol, that works at this compound came over to us and chatted with us about the spectacle. She told us this was the wedding of one of the staff, and she knew her well. As we talked, an SUV pulled up with a bride in the back. How fun! We were going to see the arrival of the bride. But then a second bride got out of the SUV... and our new American friend told us neither was the actual real bride. We were perplexed. Both of these 'brides' had the white dress, the veil, the flowers...Carol said that they really do get dressed up for weddings here! Well, okay then. I wouldn't like to be upstaged by other brides at MY wedding, but then again, we're not in America!)
As the rain began to fall, Kirk looked at me with realization in his eyes: "It's really raining hard." That was all he said. It fell like that for at least 4 hours. We were sobered to think of our friends, just a few miles away having to cope with the unthinkable all night long.
In the morning, Tingue - a Haitian engineer who lives on the compound we stayed at - came and talked to us about the building project for Pastor Val. That was a great conversation and we got a lot of answers. Then when Pastor Val came to pick us up, we were able to get him and Tingue talking, which proved to be the most valuable 30 minutes of the whole weekend. There had been several layers of people between these two men and a lot of misunderstandings had occurred. Everything from the building project to food distribution was tangled in a web of confusion. The Lord had us there to facilitate that brief conversation and exchange of phone numbers and names for the benefit of Pastor Val and the orphanage. If for no other reason, I am glad we went to Haiti for that short visit.
Now, we are back home, have raised a bunch more money and are well on our way to streamlining our efforts on the US side. It is a joy and a privilege to come alongside such a faithful and humble man of God to encourage him, pray for him and help him provide for the needy in his community. We are so grateful to God for opening the most unexpected doors of opportunity for him and for us.
And there is now a precious church of about 100 people in the Pacific Northwest that has opened its heart to Pastor Val. In one momentous event, they managed to give enough money to completely pay for the semi-permanent housing that we looked at with Pastor Val. This will provide immediate housing while we wait for the permanent building to come to fruition.
Thank you to all of the generous people who have shared of their time, talent and finances. And Pastor Val always tells us to say, "Thank you" to you as well.
It is heartfelt.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Orphanage-in-a-Box!
Our final two days in Haiti involved a relatively un-interesting mix of sitting around, being hot, going to a lovely beach (I DO wish more people knew about the faded beauties of resorts that dot the road between Port au Prince and St. Marc...absolutely lovely with the mountains dropping into the clear Caribbean Sea the way they do!), buying some Haitian art alongside the Delmas 33, and spending two hours in the beautifully remodeled and air-conditioned American Airlines waiting area. We all got stuck in NYC on the way back due to high winds, and spent the night with a generous friend. Abby was blessed the most: she got a direct flight to Seattle and a day in NY with her best friend out of the deal!
It's been a month or so since I returned already. I've been busy working on a plan to help Pastor Val rebuild the orphanage living quarters. Another pastor in the US is rebuilding the church building and we are working with some other non-profits to get the other building done. This will include dormitories for girls, boys and staff, a large kitchen and pantry, a large common area, covered outdoor areas and storage. I call it an "orphanage-in-a-box" because the genius of this design is that it is EVERYTHING pre-fabbed in the US an loaded onto shipping containers. All this can be accomplished in less than a month. Once it makes it out of customs in Haiti, it's another month or less to construct the building with the components.
Our friend John Hudson, of 100 Fold Studio is the brilliant architect behind this idea. They have already assembled the components for a similar project in the Dominican Republic. The walls and roofing materials are in manageable panels, and all the sinks, toilets, furniture, kitchen items, etc. - everything you would need to house 80 people is included. Jobs will be created in Haiti by the site work that must be done: concrete slab for the foundation, septic system installation, electrical connections, etc.
We're excited to be embarking on this project. Many others have expressed an interest in working with us, and God is piecing together a diverse team of leaders and servants. Men, women, teens and children from all walks of life are scheming about fund raising ideas, making donations, planning events, and sending boxes of supplies. For three days straight, I received a box each day full of dental and medical supplies. They came from the same address in Minonck, IL, from someone I have never heard of. Thank you, whoever you are!
A trip is in the planning stages to travel to Haiti one more time this summer to make final arrangements with the tradesmen and Pastor Val to begin the site work. My husband, Kirk and I, our son, Jon, and our architect, John Hudson will be going just for a quick weekend trip.
I'm looking forward to church more than anything. So much fun.
(If you have any interest in contributing to the building project, please contact me at kelleemetty@gmail.com for more information.)
Monday, June 14, 2010
Three Days and Two Nights, Part 3
"Happy Birthday Abby!" First words out of my mouth...it was May 6, Abb's 24th birthday, and what a better place to spend it than among such wonderful people. It was destined to be a memorable day, and it did not disappoint. As a mom, you want all your kids' birthdays to be special, because they are so special to you and you want them to be celebrated. Her life has been full of fun birthdays, and she commented on how she has spent several in foreign countries: her 3rd and 15th in Italy, her 13th in England, and now this one in Haiti. Appropriate.
We scrambled out of our tent and wandered over to the chicken-coop-turned-dining-room, and found some cold water and apple juice still chilling in the cooler with a small amount of ice left from two days before. Yrma was fixing eggs for us, and we were amazed to see at least a dozen scrambled for us, along with peanut butter and rolls. Wow. How are we going to do this? Oh, I hope Pastor Val is planning to join us for breakfast!
While we were eating, sans Pastor Val, we heard the children, mysteriously still in their tents, softly singing/practicing the Happy Birthday song in English. Abby and I exchanged silent grins; she knew something was up but we didn't talk about it so to spoil it. I remembered that Pastor Val had left in the morning the day before, and returned right before we went to bed. I hoped that we weren't in trouble for keeping the kids up late, but he had seemed pleased that they were singing and worshiping with us into the night. A white box had appeared on the shelf in the dining room. I saw it, but I wasn't sure if Abby had.
Yrma finished up the kids' breakfast as we were finishing up, and I 'helped' again by setting the table with plates of a pure white porridge-looking stuff. It was steaming hot, so I assumed the kids would show up any minute. But the ladies took their time getting all the spoons out, then some cups, then another table. The kids started trickling in and sat down, but the preparations continued. Some crackers, then some more chairs, then water in each cup, then the drums from the church across the street. About 45 minutes after the porridge was set on the table, things were finally ready. Some of the kids had been sitting there almost all that time! When I asked them what it was they were having for breakfast they said, "labouyi." (I could not figure out what they were saying and when I got home, I researched it on the internet and found this lovely recipe for a porridge made with plantains, bananas, coconut milk, evaporated milk and cinnamon. Darn, now I wish I had been hungry and bolder to try some!)
Pastor Val, along with the help of his nephew, Roosevelt, got the kids calmed down and began a little speech, with Roosevelt in English, and Pastor Val translating (but the funny thing was that he kept "translating" into English, and forgetting that the kids needed it in Kreyol!).
"Today, is a special day. Today we are going to have something like a dream. It is Abby's birthday! (and all the kids clapped and shouted!) We will sing, we will eat, we will drink, we will pray together. We wish you good health, and success in whatever you are doing in Haiti and in the United States. So welcome and welcome!"
They prayed over the food, and then broke into the most amazing rendition of "Happy Birthday to You" I have ever heard. It was sung with gusto, complete with drums, in both English and Kreyol. The kids began to eat, (finally!) and Pastor Val brought out the mysterious white box, and laid an envelope on top.
Abby opened the card, and read Pastor Val's sentiments. She looked at him for the signal to go ahead and open the box. Inside was a gorgeous cake, that read, "Happy Birthday to Abby."
Miraculous! Her response was of true surprise. Everyone clapped, and she proceeded to cut it into 50 pieces. No less miraculous. I was filming the whole party, and worked hard to hold back the flood of tears that kept rushing to the surface. (Check out the 2 minute version here.)
We asked Pastor Val where he found such a miraculous creation, and he related his story of spending all day in Port au Prince the day before hunting one down, gathering the soda, cups, ice and other party supplies. So humbling.
(As I've looked back on the video numerous times, it strikes me that some of the kids are smiling brightly through the whole thing, and others seem disinterested. I have wondered if they are ever celebrated so grandly on their birthdays. I have thought about all the things children in group living situations miss out on - mamma rocking them to sleep, or talking to them about their troubles; dad making sure they are doing their homework. When there are so many living together, they tend to take care of each other, with or without the presence of adults, and because of the inadequate ratio of adults to children, individual attention is probably a rare thing indeed. Their physical needs are provided for, mostly, but those things that only parents can do are short supply. This makes me sad and self-conscious.)
But it was a memorable moment in our lives, for sure. And I hope that the children, though it wasn't their special day, had a fun time.
As breakfast w
as finished, we passed out cake and candy to everyone. Stanley continued to play on the drums and we sang some more. Abby got out the nail polish we brought, and we set up a nail salon. Each girl got her 10 fingernails painted at least twice - that times 30 girls - about 600 nails. First with pink, then with glitter. The boys tried to get theirs done, too, but the girls fended them off! Pastor Val miraculously produced bottles of Coke and Cola Couronne's Fruit Champagne, a sweet, fruity carbonated beverage, made in Haiti since 1924, and poured it over ice for the crowd. It was a real party.
Pastor Val's son, David appeared about that time, and when he walked into the compound, the kids swarmed him like he was a superhero. He knew a lot of their names, and it was fun to see him interact with them. He's about 27, works for Digicel as a systems administrator and speaks excellent English. I'm so happy that we finally got to meet another member of the Val family. He had his Blackberry with him and one of the computers I had brought in January.
We actually were able to get on the internet using his phone, and although it was taking eons to load each page, it was clearly a possibility. This was very encouraging. I showed Pastor Val and David a few sites they might be interested in and the kids crowded around in amazement. I also pulled out my Ipod shuffle, and let Doudley and Daril listen to some worship music. They were hooked. After that, Daril said he would really like to have one of these. No problem. Sounds do-able to me!
Abby wanted to take another hike to see the mango man, but I wasn't up for it. She headed off with a couple of kids and her camera. She was gone about an hour and came back with some beautiful shots and more stories.
It was getting late in the day and nearing the time to leave. We loaded up our things, left the tent behind, and spent some last minute moments wandering the grounds. We gathered the children for a group shot.
As we were about to get in the Trooper, Daril gathered the children and had something prepared to say to us. As the eldest child, and the representative of the group, he very humbly and articulately said to us in English,
"We have one request. As you know the World Cup is coming on June 11, and we would really like to watch it. Could you help us find a way to watch the World Cup on television?"
I looked right at Pastor Val and said, "Can you take some of that money I gave you yesterday, and get them a TV so they can enjoy this?" He nodded yes. (I got word on June 10 that yes, indeed, they were able to make it happen. I guess that generator is getting a lot of use this month!)
That was our parting moment, and it was so precious. We - Pastor Val, Abby, David, another Pastor from Jacmel and I - piled into the Trooper, fully prepared for a jostling, dusty, hot three-hour ride back into the city. Abby and David rode up front, and they talked and talked about all kinds of internet stuff and business. We made one last stop at the potty-house, saw our little friend on the chair again, and thanked the lady of the house for her hospitality. "I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was sick and you visited me." I needed a toilet, and you shared yours with me. :) Thank you, kind family.
We made it back to Port au Prince in a record 1.5 hours and back to the Bataille's just a short time before the rest of the team returned. We shared dinner together, then some devotions and debriefing. We inflated our air mattresses in a bedroom under a fan. We waited for the water to be turned on, took quick showers, and crashed.
Has it really been 24 years since I birthed my first child? Such a wonderful woman she has become! Happy Birthday, my dear Abby. I love you so much.
We scrambled out of our tent and wandered over to the chicken-coop-turned-dining-room, and found some cold water and apple juice still chilling in the cooler with a small amount of ice left from two days before. Yrma was fixing eggs for us, and we were amazed to see at least a dozen scrambled for us, along with peanut butter and rolls. Wow. How are we going to do this? Oh, I hope Pastor Val is planning to join us for breakfast!
While we were eating, sans Pastor Val, we heard the children, mysteriously still in their tents, softly singing/practicing the Happy Birthday song in English. Abby and I exchanged silent grins; she knew something was up but we didn't talk about it so to spoil it. I remembered that Pastor Val had left in the morning the day before, and returned right before we went to bed. I hoped that we weren't in trouble for keeping the kids up late, but he had seemed pleased that they were singing and worshiping with us into the night. A white box had appeared on the shelf in the dining room. I saw it, but I wasn't sure if Abby had.
Yrma finished up the kids' breakfast as we were finishing up, and I 'helped' again by setting the table with plates of a pure white porridge-looking stuff. It was steaming hot, so I assumed the kids would show up any minute. But the ladies took their time getting all the spoons out, then some cups, then another table. The kids started trickling in and sat down, but the preparations continued. Some crackers, then some more chairs, then water in each cup, then the drums from the church across the street. About 45 minutes after the porridge was set on the table, things were finally ready. Some of the kids had been sitting there almost all that time! When I asked them what it was they were having for breakfast they said, "labouyi." (I could not figure out what they were saying and when I got home, I researched it on the internet and found this lovely recipe for a porridge made with plantains, bananas, coconut milk, evaporated milk and cinnamon. Darn, now I wish I had been hungry and bolder to try some!)
Pastor Val, along with the help of his nephew, Roosevelt, got the kids calmed down and began a little speech, with Roosevelt in English, and Pastor Val translating (but the funny thing was that he kept "translating" into English, and forgetting that the kids needed it in Kreyol!).
"Today, is a special day. Today we are going to have something like a dream. It is Abby's birthday! (and all the kids clapped and shouted!) We will sing, we will eat, we will drink, we will pray together. We wish you good health, and success in whatever you are doing in Haiti and in the United States. So welcome and welcome!"
They prayed over the food, and then broke into the most amazing rendition of "Happy Birthday to You" I have ever heard. It was sung with gusto, complete with drums, in both English and Kreyol. The kids began to eat, (finally!) and Pastor Val brought out the mysterious white box, and laid an envelope on top.
Abby opened the card, and read Pastor Val's sentiments. She looked at him for the signal to go ahead and open the box. Inside was a gorgeous cake, that read, "Happy Birthday to Abby."
Miraculous! Her response was of true surprise. Everyone clapped, and she proceeded to cut it into 50 pieces. No less miraculous. I was filming the whole party, and worked hard to hold back the flood of tears that kept rushing to the surface. (Check out the 2 minute version here.)
We asked Pastor Val where he found such a miraculous creation, and he related his story of spending all day in Port au Prince the day before hunting one down, gathering the soda, cups, ice and other party supplies. So humbling.(As I've looked back on the video numerous times, it strikes me that some of the kids are smiling brightly through the whole thing, and others seem disinterested. I have wondered if they are ever celebrated so grandly on their birthdays. I have thought about all the things children in group living situations miss out on - mamma rocking them to sleep, or talking to them about their troubles; dad making sure they are doing their homework. When there are so many living together, they tend to take care of each other, with or without the presence of adults, and because of the inadequate ratio of adults to children, individual attention is probably a rare thing indeed. Their physical needs are provided for, mostly, but those things that only parents can do are short supply. This makes me sad and self-conscious.)
But it was a memorable moment in our lives, for sure. And I hope that the children, though it wasn't their special day, had a fun time.
As breakfast w
as finished, we passed out cake and candy to everyone. Stanley continued to play on the drums and we sang some more. Abby got out the nail polish we brought, and we set up a nail salon. Each girl got her 10 fingernails painted at least twice - that times 30 girls - about 600 nails. First with pink, then with glitter. The boys tried to get theirs done, too, but the girls fended them off! Pastor Val miraculously produced bottles of Coke and Cola Couronne's Fruit Champagne, a sweet, fruity carbonated beverage, made in Haiti since 1924, and poured it over ice for the crowd. It was a real party.
Pastor Val's son, David appeared about that time, and when he walked into the compound, the kids swarmed him like he was a superhero. He knew a lot of their names, and it was fun to see him interact with them. He's about 27, works for Digicel as a systems administrator and speaks excellent English. I'm so happy that we finally got to meet another member of the Val family. He had his Blackberry with him and one of the computers I had brought in January.
We actually were able to get on the internet using his phone, and although it was taking eons to load each page, it was clearly a possibility. This was very encouraging. I showed Pastor Val and David a few sites they might be interested in and the kids crowded around in amazement. I also pulled out my Ipod shuffle, and let Doudley and Daril listen to some worship music. They were hooked. After that, Daril said he would really like to have one of these. No problem. Sounds do-able to me!Abby wanted to take another hike to see the mango man, but I wasn't up for it. She headed off with a couple of kids and her camera. She was gone about an hour and came back with some beautiful shots and more stories.
It was getting late in the day and nearing the time to leave. We loaded up our things, left the tent behind, and spent some last minute moments wandering the grounds. We gathered the children for a group shot.
As we were about to get in the Trooper, Daril gathered the children and had something prepared to say to us. As the eldest child, and the representative of the group, he very humbly and articulately said to us in English,
"We have one request. As you know the World Cup is coming on June 11, and we would really like to watch it. Could you help us find a way to watch the World Cup on television?"
I looked right at Pastor Val and said, "Can you take some of that money I gave you yesterday, and get them a TV so they can enjoy this?" He nodded yes. (I got word on June 10 that yes, indeed, they were able to make it happen. I guess that generator is getting a lot of use this month!)
That was our parting moment, and it was so precious. We - Pastor Val, Abby, David, another Pastor from Jacmel and I - piled into the Trooper, fully prepared for a jostling, dusty, hot three-hour ride back into the city. Abby and David rode up front, and they talked and talked about all kinds of internet stuff and business. We made one last stop at the potty-house, saw our little friend on the chair again, and thanked the lady of the house for her hospitality. "I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was sick and you visited me." I needed a toilet, and you shared yours with me. :) Thank you, kind family.
We made it back to Port au Prince in a record 1.5 hours and back to the Bataille's just a short time before the rest of the team returned. We shared dinner together, then some devotions and debriefing. We inflated our air mattresses in a bedroom under a fan. We waited for the water to be turned on, took quick showers, and crashed.
Has it really been 24 years since I birthed my first child? Such a wonderful woman she has become! Happy Birthday, my dear Abby. I love you so much.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Three Days and Two Nights, Part 2
The rural night was much more quiet than in the city! However, I did not have any idea what a horrible noise donkeys make (and why hasn't someone taken the time to train Haitian animals, that when the sun goes down, it's time to BE QUIET?!). Oh my goodness, you'd think someone was killing them!
But awake we were, with a cheerful chorus of roosters and children's sleepy voices at 5:30. Days start and end so early, but it feels natural. The body feels rested and ready to get going again with the sun. We chatted about crazy dreams, and noises we heard in the night, and whether or not we should make a quick trek to the toilet. We did, and our little friend was sitting on his chair, just like yesterday, like a doorman. We commented on the morning air, how we were relishing the early morning cool, knowing it would heat up fast.
Coming back, Yrma was already making breakfast for the masses. What a woman she is. In over 23 years of helping her brother as head caregiver to the children at Val Children's, she has never had a day off. The only time she gets away from the kids is when she is at the market buying food for them! I promptly told Pastor Val that I wanted to have her come and stay with me in the States for a week just to have a little vacation!
She rustled up some spaghetti and spam for us adults and brought it into the dining room. Pastor Val joined us after a while, and she brought coffee, too. We enjoyed the strong and very sweet brew, then started in on the crazy breakfast items. I'm not even hungry until 10 or so each day, so it was all I could do to honor her efforts and try to eat the massive amounts of food she gave us.
While Abby wandered with her camera, I pulled out my "To Do" list and had a meeting with Pastor Val. We talked through all the questions I had about child sponsorship, the possibility of adoptions, rebuilding the orphanage, the new truck. I showed him the drawings from the architect for the living quarters, to give him an idea of what it might look like. He lit up and said he liked it very much. I explained to him about getting things ready in Haiti for the building: the septic placement (do they even have septic systems?), the possibility of electrical service sans a generator, the pouring of a concrete slab foundation. The term, "anti-seismic" came up a lot - Pastor Val wants to be sure of the building's safety in the event of another serious quake. Everybody's jittery about that these days, understandably.
As we finished, the children's breakfast was ready. I provided a meager amount of assistance by setting the table and trying to scrounge up enough spoons and forks so that everyone had their own utensil. Miraculous piles of food filled each child's plate, and they eagerly sat down and ate it all, even the two-year olds.
My next task was to try and get down everyone's name, age and interests. I snapped a photo of their face, then quickly asked for names, trying to keep it in order so I could figure out who was who when I got home. Of course, even though I didn't collect all 50 kids at once, there was pandemonium as we started this process. When you ask a child his name, he gives you the whole name, front and back, and it's very difficult to understand. So I tried just asking for their "prenom" thinking that was their first name. Sometimes that worked, but often with all the other kids shouting what they thought I wanted, I got both names or the wrong name. So I started to let the older ones write theirs. Dismal failure. It just got more and more chaotic.
(It reminded me of the photo Abby took of Jon when they were there trying to do the same thing three years ago - he's sitting in a chair, elbows on his knees, with his hands over his ears. A solitary child, holding a name card is posing nearby looking forlorn. I just wanted to sit down and put my hands over my ears, too! And I'm a mom! I can't imagine the frustration a twenty-year-old college boy must have felt!)
So eventually this happened:
He obviously has them eating out of his hand, and they mind him and do what he asks of them. They all call him "Pappi." So sweet. But we got our names (of course when I got home, my memory card was corrupted, and they were all out of order!). And I learned some things along the way: Alada wants to be a nurse, Suzena is very responsible for a 13 year old, Stanley, at 12 is a gifted drummer, and sometimes children you think are boys are really girls. :)
Dinah (pronounced "Dee-nah") is one such girl. She is four years old, and has very short hair, unlike the other girls with braids and colorful bows. She had on a pair of boy's overalls, unsnapped at the bottom (probably b/c they were made for a one-year-old) to
look like a dress, but I didn't catch on. I was thrown off by the hair. She was so quiet that other kids had to tell me her name, and even then I didn't get it that Dinah was a girl. I was trying all my tricks to get her to talk to me, and let me discern her gender. Eventually, I just asked the other kids, "femme ou garcon?" They all shouted "femme! femme!" I hope I didn't hurt her feelings, but through all that, I was really drawn to Dinah, and made sure I gave her my attention whenever I was around her. I drew her up on my lap and read a book to her. I think it might have been her first time. She kept looking at my face, and not so much at the book. Her mouth was always slightly open, but never smiling. She rarely interacted with other kids; she stayed to the sidelines and watched. I don't know her story - maybe she is just very shy; or maybe she had just arrived at the orphanage, and has had some awful emotional trauma. Nonetheless, I pray for her almost daily now.
Of course, there are the kids that are just so much fun, and always make friends with you: Woosvely and Litteley are a brother-sister dynamic duo, actually Yrma's grandchildren; always-smiling Kenly, who has so much hope in his eyes, like at any minute he's going to tell you he knows some world-changing secret; and chubby-cheeked two-year old Kenzli (who fell asleep in my lap later that night). Many others, too... beautiful sisters Doudley and Rebecca, too-cool-for-school Robinson, and that really flirty 13 year old boy, oh, what's his name? "I love you, you are beautiful." In English. So much confidence.
Abby and I decided for some crazy reason we wanted to take a walk (at noon!) up into the hills. So we told Pastor Val that we only wanted to take a few kids with us, and maybe an adult. So we hiked off with Eloud, 27, and Woosvely and Littleley. It was SO hot, but we thought, "if we're going to be sweaty, we might as well get sweaty doing something fun." Although the sun was intense, there were breezes and it wasn't so bad. We ended up under a mango tree for shade, and Eloud had the bright idea to knock some down for a snack. There were no fences, and no clear de-markation of property lines. I know that tree had to belong to someone, but there were so many mangoes! We each ate one, and quickly realized how sticky we were. Eloud wandered off and came back with a small cup of water for washing off.
In a few minutes, the most beautiful man I have ever seen walked up to us with his arms full of mangoes. He was about 80 years old, only wearing a straw hat and a tattered pair of long shorts, and had a lean and chiseled dark brown body. He looked like an exquisite mahogany carving. He was so generous with his fruit. He gladly gave us about 10 mangoes even though we had just stolen 5 from his tree! He sat down nearby. I asked if I could take his photo, and he willingly agreed. Here he is, Sereme Dubraes:
When we returned from our walk, we spent the rest of the day playing with the children, resting from the heat, and just being generally unproductive. As the afternoon wore on, we ate another meal, and then escaped alone up into the hills for a quiet walk, while the kids ate their dinner. But we were discovered, and before we knew it, we had 40 companions. All but the smallest children were up on that mountain before you could say, "Hey you!" (which by the way, is what every child and teenager says to you if you're white!) We lied and told them we were walking to Jacmel, and they took us seriously. Then it was a chore to convince them otherwise and that it was getting dark and we had to go home. The sudden realization that we were responsible for forty 5-14 year olds was a little scary!
It was almost dark when we got back, and this is usually the signal to go to the tents for bedtime. But we got to singing with a lantern around the picnic tables, and it went on and on. There is a popular song in Haiti right now, that is actually like a public service announcement about going to school. The words in English are something along the lines of, "My little school, my beautiful school, I like it a lot, a lot. Don't sit at home! Go to school!" But the loud line is the don't-sit-at-home line, and they shout it while wagging their hand, "Pa chita la kay! Pa chita la kay!" So I bet we sang that song for thirty straight minutes! I think we were singing in the dark with my little camping lantern till 9:30, which is way past normal bedtime of seven or so! That's when Kenzli fell asleep on my lap.
I was in Heaven.
But awake we were, with a cheerful chorus of roosters and children's sleepy voices at 5:30. Days start and end so early, but it feels natural. The body feels rested and ready to get going again with the sun. We chatted about crazy dreams, and noises we heard in the night, and whether or not we should make a quick trek to the toilet. We did, and our little friend was sitting on his chair, just like yesterday, like a doorman. We commented on the morning air, how we were relishing the early morning cool, knowing it would heat up fast.
Coming back, Yrma was already making breakfast for the masses. What a woman she is. In over 23 years of helping her brother as head caregiver to the children at Val Children's, she has never had a day off. The only time she gets away from the kids is when she is at the market buying food for them! I promptly told Pastor Val that I wanted to have her come and stay with me in the States for a week just to have a little vacation!
She rustled up some spaghetti and spam for us adults and brought it into the dining room. Pastor Val joined us after a while, and she brought coffee, too. We enjoyed the strong and very sweet brew, then started in on the crazy breakfast items. I'm not even hungry until 10 or so each day, so it was all I could do to honor her efforts and try to eat the massive amounts of food she gave us.
While Abby wandered with her camera, I pulled out my "To Do" list and had a meeting with Pastor Val. We talked through all the questions I had about child sponsorship, the possibility of adoptions, rebuilding the orphanage, the new truck. I showed him the drawings from the architect for the living quarters, to give him an idea of what it might look like. He lit up and said he liked it very much. I explained to him about getting things ready in Haiti for the building: the septic placement (do they even have septic systems?), the possibility of electrical service sans a generator, the pouring of a concrete slab foundation. The term, "anti-seismic" came up a lot - Pastor Val wants to be sure of the building's safety in the event of another serious quake. Everybody's jittery about that these days, understandably.
As we finished, the children's breakfast was ready. I provided a meager amount of assistance by setting the table and trying to scrounge up enough spoons and forks so that everyone had their own utensil. Miraculous piles of food filled each child's plate, and they eagerly sat down and ate it all, even the two-year olds.
My next task was to try and get down everyone's name, age and interests. I snapped a photo of their face, then quickly asked for names, trying to keep it in order so I could figure out who was who when I got home. Of course, even though I didn't collect all 50 kids at once, there was pandemonium as we started this process. When you ask a child his name, he gives you the whole name, front and back, and it's very difficult to understand. So I tried just asking for their "prenom" thinking that was their first name. Sometimes that worked, but often with all the other kids shouting what they thought I wanted, I got both names or the wrong name. So I started to let the older ones write theirs. Dismal failure. It just got more and more chaotic.
(It reminded me of the photo Abby took of Jon when they were there trying to do the same thing three years ago - he's sitting in a chair, elbows on his knees, with his hands over his ears. A solitary child, holding a name card is posing nearby looking forlorn. I just wanted to sit down and put my hands over my ears, too! And I'm a mom! I can't imagine the frustration a twenty-year-old college boy must have felt!)
So eventually this happened:
He obviously has them eating out of his hand, and they mind him and do what he asks of them. They all call him "Pappi." So sweet. But we got our names (of course when I got home, my memory card was corrupted, and they were all out of order!). And I learned some things along the way: Alada wants to be a nurse, Suzena is very responsible for a 13 year old, Stanley, at 12 is a gifted drummer, and sometimes children you think are boys are really girls. :)
Dinah (pronounced "Dee-nah") is one such girl. She is four years old, and has very short hair, unlike the other girls with braids and colorful bows. She had on a pair of boy's overalls, unsnapped at the bottom (probably b/c they were made for a one-year-old) to
look like a dress, but I didn't catch on. I was thrown off by the hair. She was so quiet that other kids had to tell me her name, and even then I didn't get it that Dinah was a girl. I was trying all my tricks to get her to talk to me, and let me discern her gender. Eventually, I just asked the other kids, "femme ou garcon?" They all shouted "femme! femme!" I hope I didn't hurt her feelings, but through all that, I was really drawn to Dinah, and made sure I gave her my attention whenever I was around her. I drew her up on my lap and read a book to her. I think it might have been her first time. She kept looking at my face, and not so much at the book. Her mouth was always slightly open, but never smiling. She rarely interacted with other kids; she stayed to the sidelines and watched. I don't know her story - maybe she is just very shy; or maybe she had just arrived at the orphanage, and has had some awful emotional trauma. Nonetheless, I pray for her almost daily now.Of course, there are the kids that are just so much fun, and always make friends with you: Woosvely and Litteley are a brother-sister dynamic duo, actually Yrma's grandchildren; always-smiling Kenly, who has so much hope in his eyes, like at any minute he's going to tell you he knows some world-changing secret; and chubby-cheeked two-year old Kenzli (who fell asleep in my lap later that night). Many others, too... beautiful sisters Doudley and Rebecca, too-cool-for-school Robinson, and that really flirty 13 year old boy, oh, what's his name? "I love you, you are beautiful." In English. So much confidence.
Abby and I decided for some crazy reason we wanted to take a walk (at noon!) up into the hills. So we told Pastor Val that we only wanted to take a few kids with us, and maybe an adult. So we hiked off with Eloud, 27, and Woosvely and Littleley. It was SO hot, but we thought, "if we're going to be sweaty, we might as well get sweaty doing something fun." Although the sun was intense, there were breezes and it wasn't so bad. We ended up under a mango tree for shade, and Eloud had the bright idea to knock some down for a snack. There were no fences, and no clear de-markation of property lines. I know that tree had to belong to someone, but there were so many mangoes! We each ate one, and quickly realized how sticky we were. Eloud wandered off and came back with a small cup of water for washing off.
In a few minutes, the most beautiful man I have ever seen walked up to us with his arms full of mangoes. He was about 80 years old, only wearing a straw hat and a tattered pair of long shorts, and had a lean and chiseled dark brown body. He looked like an exquisite mahogany carving. He was so generous with his fruit. He gladly gave us about 10 mangoes even though we had just stolen 5 from his tree! He sat down nearby. I asked if I could take his photo, and he willingly agreed. Here he is, Sereme Dubraes:
When we returned from our walk, we spent the rest of the day playing with the children, resting from the heat, and just being generally unproductive. As the afternoon wore on, we ate another meal, and then escaped alone up into the hills for a quiet walk, while the kids ate their dinner. But we were discovered, and before we knew it, we had 40 companions. All but the smallest children were up on that mountain before you could say, "Hey you!" (which by the way, is what every child and teenager says to you if you're white!) We lied and told them we were walking to Jacmel, and they took us seriously. Then it was a chore to convince them otherwise and that it was getting dark and we had to go home. The sudden realization that we were responsible for forty 5-14 year olds was a little scary!
It was almost dark when we got back, and this is usually the signal to go to the tents for bedtime. But we got to singing with a lantern around the picnic tables, and it went on and on. There is a popular song in Haiti right now, that is actually like a public service announcement about going to school. The words in English are something along the lines of, "My little school, my beautiful school, I like it a lot, a lot. Don't sit at home! Go to school!" But the loud line is the don't-sit-at-home line, and they shout it while wagging their hand, "Pa chita la kay! Pa chita la kay!" So I bet we sang that song for thirty straight minutes! I think we were singing in the dark with my little camping lantern till 9:30, which is way past normal bedtime of seven or so! That's when Kenzli fell asleep on my lap.
I was in Heaven.
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