Goodbyes

Goodbyes are hard. I know I've written on this before but they seem to happen often. And they very rarely get any easier. Living for a year in Haiti I have sometimes felt that I wasn't making really good friends...ones you share everything with, who seem to understand you even when you can't express yourself, who you know you'll keep up with even from afar. And I suppose partially that is true on each of those levels. But that isn't making leaving any easier. Haitians are such a happy, hopeful people (I know I'm generalizing but still) and even though our communication methods aren't the clearest (my spoken creole is spotty at best) I feel that I'm among family and people who care.

I've had people come up this week and tell me how sorry they are to hear that I'm leaving and while I may recognize their faces I don't recall speaking with them before. And there are my students (both kids and adults) who are sad to see me go and all want to know when I'm coming back and who will continue the class. It is hard to tell them I don't know when I'll be back but even more so that there isn't anyone to take and continue the classes with them. I don't know how far we've gotten but we have had fun with our hour a week classes.

I've received so many blessings here. And they keep coming. The thank yous that I'm getting are heart felt and bring me close to tears (haven't cried yet but I know it's coming). Since writing that I teared up in 3 classes, barely made it through my last staff meeting, had to walk away quickly from the girls at the House if Hope.

Now I'm on the plane. Headed home to NC and cold weather. And I'm ready. (Not that there is any more choice in the matter.) and I'm glad. Still sad that I have left so many friends behind but the dragged out goodbyes were starting to kill me. Not knowing if I'd see someone again before I left. Cleaning out my room (how much stuff!), packing (which I still don't like doing).

Babies

I've been given the chance in the last week to visit the Missionaries of Charity hospital twice. There children are extremely sick and will stay until they are out of danger. Lots of malnutrition, malaria, and dehydration from diarrhea. There were some older children there this time. When I asked them they told me they were 7 years old but they were probably the size of 4 year olds. 

Parents have visiting hours and it is heart-warming to see when they are able to come, but heart-breaking to know that they don't have the means to care for their children. There are many children who don't get visited for whatever reason. Sadly there are always children for volunteers to hold (wouldn't it be nice to not be needed like that?). To hold, feed, change, and love a child. Language doesn't matter though sometimes it would really help. One little boy kept biting me when I wouldn't pick him up (not the best way to convince me) but was overjoyed when I sat down and was on his level even if I was holding another child.
If the child isn't hooked up to an IV there is a space to take them outside. There is a need for more shade there but we moved around and found what we needed. There are many children there and some of them I have recently learned can be adopted. I have only ever been into the first two rooms where the sickest children are, but as they get better there are another couple of rooms for them and they are more active three. The upstairs holds the orphanage but the one time I walked up there the kids were all downstairs on the playground. The hardest part is putting them down when it is time to leave. Often at the end of visiting hours so everyone is leaving and therefore crying. But I am grateful that there is a place like this for the care that they do get. 

As a complete contrast to that: today I was blessed to be able to visit Jean Gaudy's house. He moved about 2 months ago farther from Terre Noire (less crowded area). His new house was finished a few days after the birth of his daughter, Berlandy. I told him that I would love to meet his daughter and see his house if possible. He said yes but we haven't done anything until now (a week before I leave). Before my afternoon class we went to visit. It is a nice house though he tells me it isn't finished yet. He wants to add more rooms and it still needs to be painted. Berlandy was sleeping when we got there and I was afraid I wouldn't get to see her but Madame Jean Gaudy went to get her. She is adorable! Chubby and happy, with a head full of hair! She didn't cry at all even when faced with a blanc right after being awakened from her nap.

I give thanks to God for all the babies and the people who take care of them. 

(No pictures are allowed at the hospital, but here is one of Berlandy and me)

the order of worship

(soon there might be an abbreviated version of this on the HOM website)

As a long-term volunteer for HOM I thought I would write something about the worship services that I’ve attended in Haiti. I hope this will give you some insight as to the format of the service. You still won’t be able to understand the words (it will be in Creole and I don’t have time or the knowledge to teach you that) but to know a little more of what is going on and some of the thought behind it. It is by no means a definitive work as I’m sure that I will miss things. I definitely don’t have all the worship answers but I have asked some questions to the pastsoral staff and gotten some good answers that I’ll try to share here.

The beginning-Praise & Prayer
The services begin with about an hour of songs and prayer. The songs are lead by a church leader and often can be found in the hymn book though most of the congregation will already know the songs and will follow the leader as they lead with key phrases. The songs often lead straight into prayers which are loud and chaotic with each individual speaking to God. Sometimes the leader will continue a song at a hum and when the congregation picks that up they will begin to pray. The congregation then continues to hum or breaks into prayer as they feel led. Other prayers begin after the song ends and the leader picks a Bible verse (often from Psalms) that leads into everyone praying. The energy that flows through the church at this time is awe-inspiring. People are waving their arms inviting the Holy Spirit, calling out to God, on their knees with their heads on the pews. Each is free to pray to our Loving God who hears each one even when we can’t even hear ourselves. In this time is the call to confession and the assurance of forgiveness. Choirs sing praises and then it moves to the next part of worship.

Announcements & Welcome
A pastor or lay pastor then takes the service. He makes announcements and welcomes visitors. Meetings happening at the church, changes in a regular schedule, upcoming weddings, baptisms, or funerals are a few examples. Then the first time visitors stand and are recognized (sometimes with a ribbon, sometimes with a song). Haitian visitors are ushered to the front so they may feel more involved in the service with a closer seat. (HOM teams are not ushered to the front as we often leave in the middle of a service to attend a service at another HOM site.)
The song that is often sung goes like this:

Mwen renmen ou nan nom Segnè a                       I love you in the name of the Lord
Mwen renmen ou nan nom Segnè a                       I love you in the name of the Lord
Paske mwen wè nan ou lanmou Bondye a             Because I see in you the love of God
Mwen renmen ou nan nom Segne a                       I love you in the name of the Lord

What an awesome reminder of God’s love being in everyone, from friends to strangers.

Communion & Offering
A meditation on communion comes next. Communion happens in the middle of the service. This is different from at home when the communion often comes after the sermon toward the end of the service. Communion is seen as the center of the worship experience. It is the reminder that we are saved through grace and the sacrifice of Jesus-the center of our beliefs and therefore the center of worship. The meditation is often taken from one of the Gospels, 1 Corinthians 15, or Isaiah 53 but it is up to the discretion of the leader as they remind us of Christ’s death, burial, resurrection and promised return. Communion is open to all believers that have made the decision and declaration of Jesus as Lord and Savior. The plates are passed and the elements (bread and juice) are held to be eaten together as part of the one body of the church. As the cups are returned, it is also the time of the offering. As we have freely received communion and the grace of God so we may respond with our offering.

Sermon
The sermon is next. This is the last element of the service. There is no lectionary that is followed, but often the pastors have decided on themes for a series of sermons. When I asked why the sermon is at the end of the service, I was told that the hope is that the congregation listens and may be moved to make a deeper commitment to God. At the end of the sermon there is an invitation for anyone who feels moved to dedicate their life to Jesus or for those who already have accepted Jesus to make a stronger commitment to being a more active servant in the church. This is also a time for those who have prayer requests to come forward as there are leaders at the front who help and pray with them.

Often Sunday School classes follow the service (though on some Sundays it comes first). Here at Terre Noire (and I imagine at the other sites) the church is used as well as the school classrooms. In the church a class will take up about 4 pews with the teacher standing in the front and the next class will be about 3 pews behind them. It reminds me of the praying with all of the teaching going on at once in the same space. God’s work is definitely moving here!

Where am I?

Driving (riding really) around Haiti (and Malawi) is a test of recognition. There aren't very many street signs to help you on your way and I find that many if the walls that surround the properties look extremely similar. As I don't drive here and don't see myself driven or going anywhere on my own I'll admit to not paying Bert close attention to directions and how to get places. So it took me a while to place myself and the community centers of HOM. But I've got that now and if needed can get from one to the other. 

However, when coming from a different place through the same neighborhoods I can still get turned around and confused. My sense of direction seems to have taken a hit and I continuously think we should be going left when we go right and right when we go left. 

But the joy of recognizing where we are stays even when it doesn't last very long. And often even when I'm wrong that momentary joy is uplifting. At other times it is disappointing how little I recognize or how reliant on others I am. 

It often brings to mind walking a labyrinth. The first time I did it I didn't really think about it...follow the path, get to the middle, follow it out again. But the subsequent times have been more thought provoking. I think I read a guide or some questions beforehand. It recommended thinking about where you were in your journey and noticing that sometimes you seem to be in the same place but are always (in the case of the labyrinth at least) in a slightly different place. This is true in life as well. Since all of our experiences change us, we must take even the things that seen the same in a different way. I suppose in this way we can be said to gain wisdom. 

On our way home from dinner I figured out where we were twice! Very exciting! Especially since it was also dark out. 

Weekend

I spent last weekend as the only blanc (white) in the compound. On Saturday the team left for home and our next people in didn’t come until Tuesday. In many ways it wasn’t really any different than other times, just quieter. I did what I usually do—had dinner, went to see the girls at the House of Hope and sat downstairs for a bit. Granted I don’t often sit downstairs for too long and they were laughing because they figured it was because I was on my own. But that wasn’t my reasoning (hadn’t occurred to me until they brought it up). I was there because I enjoy the company. Madame Pierre and I don’t have a lot to say to each other but we chat some and sit in companionable silence. Often I don’t sit because it is hot down there—the breeze is on the roof but they don’t go up there often because the earthquake scared them (that’s what I’ve been told). Also, the mosquitoes are worse down stairs because of the lack of breeze I think.
Sunday I went to the children’s church for the first time. It has a similar format to the adult church with lots of singing, prayers, a short message, and communion for the leaders as the children haven’t been confirmed or baptized yet. There were a lot of children in that cafeteria and they were pretty well behaved. I relaxed the rest of the day which was nice. About 6 Max called me and asked what I was doing. Reading on the roof! He said he was coming so we could play a game or watch a movie as he didn’t want me to be there alone. I told him I appreciated that but it wasn’t necessary as I was fine. He said he was coming and that was ok too. We watched a movie off of youtube…and then it was time for the next week. Teaching, meeting, emails, and more…busy once again.

Tempting

Have you ever noticed how much you want to do something the minute someone says you can’t? It doesn’t matter what it is. The desire to prove them wrong or do it anyway just pops up. It happens when I’m doing construction and someone tells me I can’t do ….. ‘Well, I’ll show them.’ Or someone tells me that something is too heavy for me (even when I move them all the time)—but that is more annoying than anything.

I worked with the team from Ebenezer church in Hillsborough on their painting project last Thursday as there was no school for Dessalines Day (hero of the independence). They had been painting the church offices at our Cite Soleil center and were almost finished. (A good time to help) The offices looked really good (though before seeing the pictures I had nothing to compare it to as I'd never been back there). A bright white on dingy walls really brightened up the place. The walls were all white with a dark grey trim (doors, frames, benches, baseboard). It was basic touch up time for all the doors and frames- where any white had dripped and needed to be covered. 

They worked faster than planned and what was to take all day finished at lunch time (never complain about that). All morning we would work and take breaks when we wanted and there were plenty of places to sit with all the wooden benches in the hallway and all the concrete benches permanently attached to the walls. Then it was time to paint those concrete benches grey. Done. No problem.

If there is any choice in the matter, I don’t want to sit on those concrete benches. All morning I’d chosen to sit on the wooden benches or the chairs. But now the concrete benchers were covered in wet paint and I kept having to catch myself from sitting on them. After they were painted, it seemed to be the only place I wanted to sit. 

It made me think of how we really want to do what we aren't supposed to. What we are told not to do seems to be the cool thing. Why? Is it because we want to see if we can get away with it or do we really want to do it? We see it often in teenagers and we try to use reverse psychology. But it doesn’t stop (or start) with the teen years. It is in us all and continues (at least as long as I am aware of).

I don’t really know where I want to go with this and I’m sure there is somewhere deeper and more thought provoking I could go. But that’s it.

I didn’t sit in the paint but I did put my water bottle on it…

Shoes shoes shoes

This week it was time to give out shoes to the school kids. Luckily we had a team in from Hillsborough, NC who were willing to help us out. Two of the ladies helped us each day and we recruited the next two for the last two days. I helped in between classes on Monday as we shepherded children into the room, tried shoes on them until they fit and then sent them back to class. There was a constant flow of children and trying to keep shoes ready to go on feet. 

I think we put shoes on an enormous number of students (I think about 1000). And then double that for the number of feet we touched. I found the littles ones fun an cute. As they got older they seemed to want to fool the system. I couldn't tell if they did it for fun or on purpose. All of the shoes were black tennis shoes with a Velcro strip across but some had flat 'laces' while others had laces that were more like wires. They would tell you the size they thought they needed or wanted and then would tell you whether they fit or not. But more often than not they wanted sizes too small and would ball up their feet to get them. No deal. I was on to their game (at least most of the time). 

It was fun to watch the interaction with the volunteers. They would ask questions in English (how are you, what's your name) and often the kids could understand. (Exciting for me!) and then sometimes the kids would teach some French (same questions). The pride on their faces to be teachers was so cute.

3 Services

On Sunday I once again had the privilege to visit all three churches with a team. (I often find that while doing it I feel interruptive to the services but this time wasn't too bad.) We started at Terre Noire as it begins at 6am. Praise songs, prayers, choirs and more praise. We left as they began the communion part of the service to go to Cite Soliel. We arrive a little after their service begins in time for songs and choir performances which was very beautiful this week. There was a choir symphony which was male and female voices and it was gorgeous. I felt that I was understanding a lot more that was going on than I normally do which was pretty exciting for me.  There was a talk to announce that October 15 is international Handwashing Day and the importance if washing your hands. Also that you should use soap. We were greeted as visitors at all three services (I was given the visitor ribbon as well) and they sang the song for the visitors (we love you in God and we can see Christ's love in your face). We took communion and as we returned the cups and have our offerings we made our way out of the church to head to Repatriate. We arrived there in time for the message before communion- that we come to the table as unworthy but as open eyed as we can. Communion twice in a Sunday is special. It can be a reminder that it doesn't take us long to forget an fall from the path. It can be a chance to rejoice with fellow believers in The Lord. It can remind us to share with those around us as God has shared with us. 

At Repatriate we were told after we (and many others) had sat down that the pews were possibly still wet. They ha been painted last week but it had been very humid and possibly the paint wasn't quite dry. It was true. Some of us took the reminder of that day with us on our clothes. The message to stick with us as we moved forward. 

Home!

I have my ticket home! While this is exciting and I’m looking forward to it, I’m also dreading it. Dread is too strong a word. I look forward to going home but I am not looking forward to leaving here. This is normal for me (and probably most people) but that doesn’t really make it any easier. Change is tough.

For all the things that frustrate me here (the constant English questions, getting up so early, meetings that are superfluous, kids yelling ‘hey you’ and ‘blanc’, etc.) there are so many more things that I love about being here (the friends I’ve made, the kids who are always so happy to see you, fresh tropical fruit, sunsets, etc). And that makes it hard to leave. It is also hard not knowing when I will come back to a place. Because I feel sure that I will come back—not in the same role or the same amount of time most likely but I will come back. I feel reassured in that as my friends have called me a boomerang—I may leave but I do come back.

So November 20^th is my departure date and I know that I won’t want to talk about it or think about it though of course I will be doing both a lot. I have to give people notice and so far that hasn’t gone well. People seemed surprised though my year is coming up and shocked about how I could even think about leaving. After ‘when are you coming back’ their next question is ‘will there be someone coming to take my place.’ And I don’t know. So far I don’t think they have found another long term volunteer who is interested…if you know someone who might be interested let me know or let them know that this opportunity is out here. That’s how I found this post and it has been challenging but also rewarding, heart-wrenching and heart-warming.

I’m also going home to indecision. I don’t know what is coming next, where I will be led, the next opportunity and adventure. I don’t mind that part of it. It helps me stay here that much more. To be here instead of looking forward at where I will be and anticipating what it will be like and how it will be different. To live more in the moment. This isn’t saying that I’m very good at really living in the moment—not looking forward to what is next (it just happens to be tomorrow that I’m looking at and not after I leave. But I’m trying.

On that note—if you have heard of something that might be my next place, I’m open to suggestions. 

Back to school

We are back into school mode (while many of you may have been there for a while). School started on the first and I started teaching the kids on the 2^nd. And it just doesn’t slow down. From one class to the next-we moved the schedule around some so we have less breaks but we finish earlier…not really sure which is better (though I think I like this way). Our first week has been greetings…I know that we did some of that last year but I’m trying to get them speaking more and the way I think to do that is to do things they are more comfortable with. Not that they are necessarily comfortable with it. In first grade I started with the basic good morning and how are you. “How are you” from most Haitians sounds like “ow ah ou?” as they don’t have the hard r sound in creole and they rarely will say the h unless on a word that doesn’t have it. When they respond in French they say, “Ça va bien. Merci. Et toi?”  (I’m fine. Thanks. And you?). So I’m trying to teach them that as well…but this could keep the conversation going for a long time because the second response is, “I’m fine. Thanks.” And they want to add, “And you?” This also happens in 2^nd grade but 3^rd grade mostly gets it.

In 4^th-6^th we add more questions. “What is your name?”, “How old are you?”, “Did you sleep well?” and the niceties “Nice to meet (see) you.” and “Have a great day”.  I’ve had them come up to the front to practice the conversations in each class so I think we just about have the set conversation down. Maybe I can get them to practice with the next team that comes (though I suppose they are usually working at that time).

I now have 5 classes for the teachers, 2 at Cité Soleil, 1 at Repatriate, and 2 here at Terre Noire. They are all roughly at the same level so I do the same lesson. It is pretty impressive the variety of responses that I get from the different classes. It depends on the day, the heat and the surroundings (sometimes we can’t hear anything with the children chanting or construction going on) as to how they respond. I’m learning more names this time (though by no means all of them) as we introduce ourself or our neighbor at each class…again repetition of things that we can say though I change it up each week as to what we say about ourselves (where we are from, how many sisters we have, what class we teach, our favorites, etc).

first day of school with a crying pre k

The side of the road

Haiti is hard. It is a harsh hot climate that is rough on people and objects. The vehicles here really take a beating. With the roads not being paved (or paved so long ago that it is no longer evident) the potholes are impressive. 

Our vehicles are always needing some kind of repair. Flat tires are such a common occurrence that it doesn't take too long to change them (lots of practice). Many times we have to put air in the tires so that we can go out with the comment that we just put air in those tires yesterday and why aren't they holding. Any time you head out, you know in the back if your mind that there is a good possibility of a break down. We also find that it is sometimes hard to get vehicles serviced here--either we can't get the parts needed or we have to wait for the mechanic to come (if we can't take it there). So far it hasn't been a big inconvenience in getting things done as there is often a vehicle that can be used. Or we rent a tap tap. 

I'm currently in the construction truck with Marty as we drop off water and tools for the workers at Repatriate and the high school. We are stalled just outside of the Doctors without Borders compound and he is messing with the engine. The fuel filter is clogged and it was replaced just yesterday morning. Marty knows the problem but can't get it fixed here. (The coating on the inside of the fuel tank is peeling and it could be switched out in the states but isn't possible here.) The wheel bearings are constantly going out due to the bumpy roads and a need for a new axle/wheel spindle. 

To do their jobs our pastors need their vehicles and so HOM is working to raise money for those. Pastor Profaite just got his new vehicle and is very grateful. You can find his thank you letter here as well as more pictures. Pastor Luc is next in line. 

Luckily for us there are many ways to jerry-rig the engine. Marty pried something up with a screwdriver, poured a little gas in the Diesel engine, and fired it up. Off we went!

Rain

I've always loved the rain. As far as I can remember anyway. The smell, the feel of it, the thunder and lightning, the puddles to play in, the sound on the roof. And now I find that while I still love the rain it is more of a mixed blessing. I see its effects. In Malawi I still saw it as a purely positive thing. Dry season ending allowing the crops to grow and the people to have food. Until it becomes too much. 

Here in Haiti it is hot. All the time hot. And when it rains I am so relieved. But the first time it rained while I was here, I was reminded about the people in the tent cities and the fact that most of them won't get to lay down if it rains for too long. The rains also bring outbreaks of cholera in the city as the trash washes (more) into the water sources. For a while it wasn't raining long enough to actually cool things off, it only got muggy. This week though it has been raining and raining. I went out to look at it and saw Woodley downstairs in the rain. He beckoned me down and I was compelled to join him. What fun! Water washing us clean and bringing us closer together. (So glad I have a waterproof camera.)

It was puddling pretty quickly and was ankle deep before it stopped. Water doesn't soak into the ground quickly here with such hard packed dirt so mud abounds in the streets with potholes you could lose a car in. I say a prayer for those the water adversely affects as well as praise for the beauty in the storm.

Here is the foundation of our next HOM building at the high school site. It is well dug and hopefully won't collapse before it dries out and can be filled with concrete!

First Day!

Tuesday was the first day of school in Haiti. It was supposed to be the beginning of September but the results of the National exam came out too late for the schools to have all of the information they needed on which students passed into the next grade, curriculum (printed and distributed) to the schools so the government postponed school for a month. The teachers have been coming in to read in the library and get their classrooms ready so I’d already started classes with them. I love seeing their smiling faces as we introduce ourselves over and over again.

Tuesdays I don’t teach in the school with the kids but it was wonderful to have them back. The chaos, noise, singing, chanting, and life they bring is contagious (and sometimes exhausting). The team we had here were excited to see the first day activities (which looks a lot like the other days)—assembly with songs and prayers—new uniforms, backpacks, etc. I went down to send off the team (to finish their project at Ibo Beach school) and one of the preschool teachers saw me and asked for help from across the courtyard. She had her hands full with kids who were no longer sure school was where they wanted to be. I’m sure while they were at home these 3 year olds were excited for school. And then they saw their mom, dad, neighbor leaving them there…it didn’t even take 5 minutes for the chaos to take over. All of the 3 year olds were in one room because we didn’t know who they were or which class they were supposed to be in. Their names were safety pinned to the backs of their shirts so we slowly divided them into their respective classrooms. Trying to have them sit down and not make a break for the door. Toys were not much of a distraction in a room full of 33 crying, screaming kids. Little by little they would calm down a tiny bit and then something would set them off again…I think there were probably 10 kids who did not cry at all.  I didn’t leave the classrooms. At one point I had one in my lap passed out, one on each knee also fast asleep. Crying is a tough and exhausting business. I almost had four but she wasn’t ready to sleep so she kept wandering behind the teacher in tears.

I think this is the normal beginning of the year. The other classes seemed to do fine. I wonder how long this is going to last in the littlest class. Though already I can tell it is much better (only intermittent screaming of all of them)—and this is only 4 days in!

No tears in the 4 year old class!

Sick

Last Sunday I was sick, sick, sick. Had plans to go to the beach but that was not going to happen. I had to send them off without me. I spent the day in bed half asleep and totally out of it. I asked Marty for a 7up that I think I had 6 sips of. That evening I found The Princess Bride on Netflix but knew I couldn't watch. My eyes wouldn't stay open. But I know the movie so well that I put it on and just listened to it in my stupor. It felt like I had a fist in my stomach that moved around as well as a fever. I took an IBuProfen that evening and slept most of the night. Monday I felt better-the pain was gone, but I wasn't hungry and didn't have the energy to really do much. So I stayed in bed and rested all day. Got up for dinner because I was kind of hungry and found potatoes and salad for dinner! This is the first time we've had salad at the guesthouse, and while it might not have been the best idea for me, I ate it and loved it! (Marty had made some for lunch with Madame Sterling so she was practicing.) I was able to take it easy last week and am feeling fine now (and was for most of last week) which is good because school started on Tuesday! 

Fat Lip

Last week I was taking a little break from getting some teaching aids ready for teachers. They are laminated calendar pictures of animals. My task was to put a few facts about the animal on the picture. As they wanted it in French I typed it up and sent it to get proof-read before putting them on. Then I printed, cut, and taped them on with clear packing tape. They look pretty good and I hope they get used. 

Anyway, back to my break...

I was laying down watching something on my kindle when I felt a little twinge and then my lip started swelling. Well, I didn't know it was swelling but it had that novocain feeling of having just been to the dentist. I went to Marty to see if he had any ideas and he told me to take some Benadryl right away. It kept getting bigger for a little while until I was completely lopsided. Then it stopped. Dinner was interesting as everyone thought I looked pretty funny (and I had to agree with them) and it is awkward to eat with a fat lip. Another Benadryl before bed and when I woke in the morning they aid it was looking better but I didn't see a difference. Taught two classes and it continued to go down. By my afternoon class it wasn't too noticeable but they had all heard about it. By dinner that night it was gone but we continue to speculate about what caused it. 

*Marty told me a couple of days later that something similar had started to happen to him but he took the Benadryl right away and it disappeared. We are thinking that it is a reaction to an ant bite. 

Prayers

Here in Haiti prayers are loud. They are chaotic. Repetitive. Prayer meetings can be found happening at almost any time in the community centers. Choir practice is singing and praying. School starts with prayer—in the assembly it is more like ours at home with a single leader and when they break into the classrooms it is the full participatory kind.

I went to a planning/brainstorming meeting last week and was told that we need to pray specifics. God knows what we need always. That can be how we know that God has answered our prayer. If we pray big and vague we don’t know what has been answered or how far it might go. When we dream and pray big and specific knowing that we can’t procure what we are asking for on our own, we open the door for God to fill our need and show that we are not alone. It is true that God may not say yes to our prayers but how can we know if we aren’t specific with our ideas. To say, ‘show me where to go next year’ is so open that I can easily miss the way. If I pray, ‘Make it possible to serve next year in Haiti,’ I will have more specific things to look for to see if that is the way. I don’t know that I explained this to my liking, but I don’t know how to put it down and it sometimes makes sense in my head.

I was asked in an email from a volunteer who had been down over the summer, “How can I be praying for you?”  I’ve been asked this before and I always feel awkward with this question. I don’t often ask people to do anything for me. And as for prayers I look at my life and see that I am so blessed that I think that there are others who could really use them, I don’t need the prayers. Now I know that isn’t how it works, but on some level I do feel that way. I don’t need to bother God because I’ve got it good.

Don’t get me wrong. I am so glad that I have that support. People praying for me helps me know that I am loved and supported. It makes the hard days easier and the easy days brighter. I know there is power in prayer-in connection, relationship with others and with God. But it has been on my mind that I want to do more of it. More of the specific prayers. For myself but even more for others.

So, how can I be praying for you? 

I know that the question is broad and it is going out to a broad audience (I don’t know how broad as I don’t know who reads these) but I would really like to know. Leave me a comment or send me an email (jessi.stitt@gmail.com) if you want to let me know.

Guacamole

Avocados are in season! While we haven’t had them as often as they told me they were having them before I arrived, we are having them and that makes me so happy. When I went to church with Missy a couple of weeks ago, she stopped on our way home and bought me a couple. They were wonderful.

I was eating one and Madame Florino, our cleaning lady, came into the cafeteria. I offered her part and she accepted. The next day she came with a whole one for me as a gift! She said she would have brought some earlier but she didn’t know that I liked them. She is so sweet.

One of the teachers that took my class last year brought me a sack full. It shows that they really do listen in class and remember that I am a huge fan of avocados. I never expected to get them as gifts. She warned me that they weren’t ripe yet and I assured her I would wait to eat them.

So I decided to make guacamole. There are so many different recipes out there and so many different things you can add to it but I went for the basic (out of necessity mostly)—avo, tomato, onion, salt, pepper. I had it ready for dinner to eat with the rice and beans and whatever sauce we were also having that night. The Haitians I saw (both walking back from buying the onion and in the community center) looked at me like I was crazy for what I was about to do. They know that I don’t cook and they do not eat onions (or much else) without cooking them. It was a hit with anyone who tried it (not many did). And it made me very happy.

Repatriate church is moving forward!

The seasons of fruit (and other things) remind me of God’s timing. It is not always when we want it but it comes when it is right. It also depends on how we use what we are given. We can keep it to ourselves or we can share it with others. Sharing brings relationships, new experiences, and happiness.

Serving

This past week there have been a couple of verses that have come up repeatedly have been about not putting yourself first. (Matthew 23:11, the Beatitues, Luke 14:7-11) Sitting down lower than 'your place' so that the host will move you up and not down. To be the servant in all that you do...opting for the more menial jobs that can only mean upward movement for you. And I've realized that I don't necessarily do this easily. I suppose not many people do but that isn't the point either. It is something we should strive to do. 

Today I was working  on the high school construction site. I went out thinking we were going to be working to finish the roof, but the plan change as soon as we got there...at least as far as I could tell. During the days that I hadn't been on site they had poured the porch of the caretaker's house. We started by taking the concrete forms off of the porch floor. (Concrete forms are wood and steel put together to form the concrete into the show desired when it is poured.) Then we had to clean the forms so they will be ready to use next time. I didn't say anything but say there cleaning and thinking that this is not what I came to do. Then we started putting posts up for the porch and we ended with putting the trusses (roof supports) on the porch and finishing some of the purlins. So I did do roofing and so much more. 

Even though I didn't have the whole picture in mind and couldn't see how everything tied in together I was helping with the bigger picture all along from cleaning up the site to hammering and drilling. After all my grumbling (in my head), at the end of the day I was happy and felt productive from what we had accomplished. 

Construction

Last week I taught 2 days (Tuesday and Wednesday to staff, teachers, and translators) and then got to go work construction. We had 3 guys in to help start up the high school construction. In about a week they have just about finished the caretaker’s house which was the first building to go up. These guys are masons and contractors in the states and came down to move things and that they did. The foundation was poured and the blocks started going up. The 2 masons were teaching a different method for  laying the concrete block that will look more like the American way of laying (with a smaller joint but also stronger). I worked with the contractor who was making the roof trusses and got to used some power tools…a drill to screw everything together and put some holes in boards for spacers. I was applauded by one of the guys who comes to my translator class (impressed with my board holding skills). I was encouraged by Fre Pierre, our gate keeper, who is so wonderful and so happy to see me working at whatever is going on. Each time I see him he gives me a big smile, hug and tells me that we are family. I was told by one of the teachers that I couldn’t do that work because it was too hard. I looked at her, smiled and said it is too hot but it is not too hard for me. Repeat twice and watched her walk away unconvinced. It was hot and sweaty and I loved it.

On Saturday we put the trusses on the house and secured them with the purlins (construction term for wood across rafters). It was hot work but the house is looking pretty good. We have more purlins to put up when they get painted before the tin can go on the roof but I’d say it looks pretty good!

I also got a chance to bend rebar. That is some tough stuff but with the right tools I was able to bend and cut steel!

They have also started the digging of the foundation area for the first classroom building! I’m glad I don’t have to dig…

Another service

Last Sunday I went to an evening service with Missy, the librarian of the school here. She had invited me the week before but I missed her when I went out to help work construction during the day—we weren’t back in time. It was about a 15 minute walk from the compound (which she claimed was a long way) and it wound through many different roads—I’m pretty sure I couldn’t return on my own again (or even leave that evening). We arrived at the Baptist church and went up to sit on the second row. She warned me that they sing a lot. When I told her I like to sing especially when I can follow in my book (so that I know the words) she looked a little panicked. I had brought my hymnal and French Bible but it turns out that the Baptist church uses a different hymnal. She was able to borrow one for me as we went in. We sang and prayed (not the out loud chaos prayers I’ve heard at the Terre Noire church) and then a preacher got up and did a Bible study on Daniel and his dream explanations in Chapters 2 and 7 of that book. I couldn’t follow a lot except for the king had one of the dreams and Daniel had the other and they both involved 4 different empires. 

After that we sang. And she wasn’t joking when she said they sang a lot. We stood and started singing and we continued through at least 7 hymns! We would get to the last chorus of a hymn and the leader would call out the next number and without missing a beat we would continue on! It reminded me of the first time I was in a Central American bar/dance club and the music never stopped—one song just segued into the next one. And there was never a good time to sit down or take a break. Around hymn number 5, Missy noticed that I was flagging a little bit and she told me I could sit down. I thought I’d be able to make it so I held out but when number 6 started I gave in and had a seat. After the congregational  singing a choir got up and gave us two songs and then another preacher got up to give another message but it was time for us to go in order to get me back before my curfew (dark).

As we left I thanked Missy for bringing me. As much as I grumble and complain about going to another service, sitting in the hard pews, and not understanding everything, something touches me each time I go to a service. I come out feeling like it was a good way to spend time-contemplating, singing, and praising…now I just wish that feeling would stay as I get ready for the next service. No matter when that happens I don’t look forward with abundant joy to going to the next…it is an attitude adjustment I need to work on.

Post office

So I’m ok at keeping up correspondence…not the best but I do try. And as I’ve always loved to get ‘real’ mail I’m used to writing letters too. So I’d written some letters and often I would get teams to take them back to the US to send for me because there is no postal service in Haiti. At least that is what I thought. Then Nadege told me that there is a post office. And while we can’t (or don’t—probably can’t) get mail through them, we might be able to send mail from there…I thought it was worth checking out. Well, a couple of weeks passed (and as you might know this is also all happening at least 6 weeks ago as Nadege is now in the US to finish her degree) before we got around to heading out to Delmas (the big street where everything is found) to look for the post office.

It is a large building but the actual post office part was small. And it looked quite closed. We crossed the street anyway and found out that it wasn’t closed. Back into an office where 2 women were sitting.  I showed them the letters I wanted to send. 4 to the US, 2 to Europe and 1 to Africa. They were muttering and calculating how much that would cost and finally gave me a number…3850 gourdes…I thought they must be joking or confused…(divided by 40 that gave me US$96.25), but they weren’t. It was roughly $9 to send a letter to the US and more for other destinations.  I laughed and tried to get my letters back. The woman kept talking to Nadege who wasn’t having it…telling her that I understand Creole and speak French and I am the customer…She didn’t want to give me my letters back but there was no way she was getting that kind of money from me.

 Needless to say the US letters went back with the next team…to be sent for a much more reasonable price. The foreign letters stayed with me because I didn’t have the right stamps yet. When I then decided to go to the Dominican I took them with me and found a post office there that sent them for about $4…I was ok with that expense…

Church

The last group was in mentioned in their devotions and debriefs at the end of the day…at home there is no way we would come to a church service that lasted more than an hour. Okay, maybe and hour and fifteen minutes but really many of us would be very squirmy by then. Here the services last2.5 hours easily and everyone is there. Present, not just attending (ok that is a generalization and probably not true of everyone). And there is participation. The hymns are sung with force, to be heard. The prayers are not passive—the congregation adds their voice to the leader (who prays into the microphone) and prays out loud until they are finished…to our ears it sounds like a classroom of children all talking at the same time—and it is! We are God’s children but he can hear all of us whereas we only hear the chaos. Arms are raised and waving, or people are on their knees with their heads bowed on the pew, or facing the wall with head inclined to speak up to God. Often the prayers start with a verse of a psalm said together such as Psalm 121:1-2

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

    where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

    the Maker of heaven and earth 

It was also pointed out that at home we are often late for church, rushing breakfast, running out the door, to barely make it in on time. Here we are on Haitian time (things run late) but people have been preparing for Sunday at least since Saturday. Yes they might be late but it is not because they didn’t get out of bed on time or found something else to do. Often the sun hadn’t come up yet and they didn’t feel it was safe to leave yet (a reason for these walls of the community center). On Saturdays women do their hair and their daughter’s hair. (Haitian hair doesn’t get washed every day as the texture is different and takes more time to do.) Clothes are ironed and pulled out the day before. When they get to church they will be there for a full morning—church service and Sunday school. There are separate churches for adults and children and so many Sunday school classes—there aren’t enough classrooms to hold all of the different classes so that many of the adult classes take place in the sanctuary—each class gets about 5 pews with the teacher standing backwards to teach his/her pews and 2 behind them is the next class. I don’t know how they learn anything with all the noise from all over but they seem to.

It is a different feel to go to church. The praise seems real in a way that is so different from home. The desire to be at church, to worship, to not confine God to just this space and time. But it is a mindset that anyone can have (to be in the moment, to praise the Maker of Creation, to revel in the beauty and community that surrounds us), we just have to work on it where ever we are.

I’ve got a few reflections coming on the church experience here. Well I think I do, though my plans often change. I was given a Creole/French hymnal at the beginning of my stay which is very helpful for me to sing any of the hymns. That is, if I can find them. Many times I believe that the worship/song leader does call out a number but he only does it once and often I’m not ready for it. Most Haitians as well do not have hymnals. They either know the hymns or follow the leader as he does a little lead in. So while I often spend the first half of the song searching (and getting extremely frustrated because I feel that I should be able to understand the numbers at least) the energy in the congregation is mounting and is contagious. Sometimes I give up looking and just hum and sway along with the music. But when I do find the song, I’m pretty happy and sing at the top of my voice. (not that I can be heard because everyone around me is doing the same) I also find that with the songs in French or Creole that I pay attention more to the words and the meanings (not that I understand them all) but I find myself more moved by the lyrics (as well as the melody)…though some songs I really wish they would sing faster (others I can’t keep up with). Many of them have familiar tunes or are actually the songs that I know (usually just can’t put my finger on because the words aren’t the same—because they are in a different language). This was one on Sunday that touched me.

(pardon the translation...it is mine)

1. Tu payas mon salut                                    You have paid for my well-being

Par ton grand sacrifice,                                  With your great sacrifice,

O Jésus, quelle merveilleux amour!                 Oh Jesus, what marvelous love!

Désormais pour ton saint                                From now on for you holy

Et glorieux service                                         And glorious service

Ton racheté se donne en retour.                     Your purchase will give itself in return.

Choeur

Je viens à ton autel,                                       I come to your altar,

Offrande volontaire,                                     A voluntary offering,

Librement je veux server mon Roi;                I want to freely serve my King;

Je ne veux désormais                                   However, I don’t want

Que ta gloire, ô mon Père                           Your glory, oh my Father

Ne vivre que par Toi,                                  To live only by you,

Que pour Toi.                                             But for you.

2. Prends tout ce que je suis,                       Take all that I am,

Prends mon coeur et mon âme,                   Take my heart and my soul,

Que tout mon être te soit livré!                    That all my being will be yours!

Contrôlé par l’Esprit,                                  Controlled by the Spirit,

Animé de ta flamme,                                   Animated by your passion (fire),              

Et de ta Parole pénétré.                              And penetrated by your Word.

3. Seigneur, de jour en jour,                        Lord, from day to day,

Transforme à ton image                              Transform into your image

Ton enfant, ton heureux racheté;                 Your child, your happy purchase;

Devant moi n’est qu’un but                         Before me is only one goal

Jusqu’au bout du voyage,                           Until the end of the voyage,

Connaître et faire ta volonté.                       To know and do your will.

(Tune: He was Nailed to the Cross)

How we should want to do right always...free offering--not when we are free or feeling good. To live for God--that others see God's glory through us and not us doing the 'right' thing. Hard to do but something to aim for.

Kiddie Graduations

Time lapse: Graduations happened at the end of June after school ended. School was supposed to begin again at the beginning of Sept but has just been postponed until October by the government...(one more month of summer!)

At the end of the week were the graduations from Kindergarten. In Haiti the kids start school at 3 years old. By the time they get to first grade they have been in school for 3 years and learned a whole lot—potty training, sitting at a desk, reading, writing, etc.  Maddie and I were recruited to help get the kids ready…this involved robing them when they arrived, pinning a flower on them, and putting caps on. The first graduation happened at Repatriate for the smallest number of students—I think there were 22 of them. We got them dressed to walk in. Cute to watch them process in at an almost bridal pace. Then there were skits and prayers and speeches and costume changes and it went on and on and on. We were there for 2 hours and then had to leave as our ride  was leaving and they still hadn’t gotten close to giving out the certificates/children’s work.

The next day was both Terre Noire (am) and Cite Soleil (pm). Not as many costume changes at those two but still the ceremonies just kept getting longer. It was fun to see all the different parts with the children coming up to welcome parents and teachers, sing songs about colors, dance to different songs, etc. At the end when the names are called the parents come up to get the work and the certificate which I thought was interesting but it was fun to see how proud the parents were. We’ve been told that for some of the families these children can already write more than some of their parents! What an amazing way to move a country forward—educating the young to become strong members of society.