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!