Second day home and I still feel kind of tender and bruised all over. Hope I am not getting sick! (lol, I don’t think so.) Haiti has a way of beating you up: I am pretty sedentary at home and there is a lot of  lifting, schlepping, bouncing around on the tap tap, hoofing it up concrete stairs, etc. It makes your skin sensitive with the sun, wind, dust, charcoal smoke. I also think it makes your soul more sensitive, tender, and bruised. Haiti cracks open our protective shells to access the real self inside.

 

In the united states we are cocooned in our houses, cars, protected from the sky and wind all the time. We are guarded and protective of our real selves and our souls.  “How are you?” “Fine.” Even when you are far from fine and it is a dear friend asking. In Haiti I have a dear friend, I have written of him before, Pierre/Junior, one of the translators. As I was leaving I told him you are a friend of my heart, my brother in Christ. I would never say that to anyone in the US, they would not get it. But with Junior our conversations flow easily from how do you make that chicken thing you are eating to what does it feel like to ride on an airplane to how do we be like Christ in the world of Haiti and at home. There is no difference in the comfort level of these conversations. And so I feel cracked open, raw and exposed, and tears flow easily. I feel as if I have to put my shell and mask back on to survive my modern life here. And that breaks my heart, I want to be my real self all the time.  I want to show the world what I have learned in Haiti but I can’t even begin to know how.

“How was Haiti?” “Amazing.” And move on to the weather, sports, all the conversations we have daily that have nothing to do with our real selves and the state of our souls. “How is your soul?” “Joyful. Sad. Beat up. Raw. Exposed. Terrified to have seen the face of God a little in myself and others.  Filled with the Holy Spirit. Renewed. Coming into Holy Week not sure I am ready to face the immediacy of Jesus’ sacrifice for us and His immense love for us.”

How is YOUR soul? Can you even access it? Feel the wind today, even if it is cold. Feel the sun today, even if it is weak. Turn off the TV, ipod, computer, radio, and listen for the still small voice that is God. It is there. Listen.

Haiti is...

Haiti is...
Exhausting
Exciting
Fun
Tragic
Growing
Hard work
Hot and sweaty
Uplifting.

Haiti is...
Spiritual
Sad
Painful
Sweet
Breezy
Sunny
Noisy
Smelly
Yummy
Thirsty
Hungry

Haiti is...
Faithful
Holy
Buggy
Life giving
Life saving
Sharing
Kind
Grabbing
Struggling
Scraping

Haiti is...
Digging
Shoveling
Suffering
Benevolent
Romantic
Improving
Palm trees
Coffee
Banan frites

Haiti is...
Spicy
Refreshing
Old & new
Welcoming
Angry
Sullen & resentful
Resigned
Broken
Repairing

Haiti is...
Warm pools and dusty streets
Scary
Friends
Traffic
Open sewers
Homeless children
Laughter
Helping

Haiti is...
Moist
Illiteracy
Education
unemployment
Politics
Corruption
Elections
Robbing Peter to pay Paul
Beautiful
Handcrafted
Pride

Haiti is...
Tears
Joy
Sugar
Tap taps
Horns beeping
Roosters crowing
Free range goats
Locked gates
Guards with guns
Open arms
Faithful
Peaceful

Haiti is.

Day 1 - Haiti - Getting Back to the Children

Miriam and I, she is 4 years old

I am setting on a screened porch, listening to the sounds of the night in Port-au-Prince. I hear bugs clicking, cars sputtering along, dogs barking, music playing, and the voices of many conversations. The smell of burning charcoal is in the air. A slight breezes passes through now and again. It is good to be back in Haiti. I miss they sounds and smells when I am not hear and when I smell wood charcoal burning back in the states it instantly brings me back to Port-au-Prince.

We attended church at the Pastor's church in Martissant this morning. We met old friends and listened to teachings on learning to see what God is asking of you and not to be blind to his guidance. The Pastor also spoke to the congregation about the newest child that will be placed in the orphanage. She is two years old and was brought to the Pastor a week or so ago very sick and with out any cloths. The mother asked the Pastor to care for the child as she could not. The mother is 17 years old. 

The Pastor said that the child is too young for the orphanage at this time and his family is currently caring for the child. Although she is not completely well, she is healing. The Pastor reminded the congregation the love is not a game and they must not treat it as such. 

After church it was off to the grocery store for lunch supplies for the week. We live on PB&J for lunch. It was a short trip to the market, but it is not cheap. 

A quick rest and we were off to the orphanage to get reacquainted, play, and to meet with the Pastor to plan and schedule for the rest of this first week. It always amazes me that the children remember my name. I am in Hait for only two weeks a year and there are other teams that come down from all over, but they remember me, my name, and even that I have two daughters and a son.

I have to admit I did have an alternative purpose in the trip to the orphanage the evening. My goal was to find out a bit more about the age groupings of the children and their current "life skills" training. The mother oldest child at the orphanage is 15 and after him are a group of about 4 or 5 that are 14. None of the children have had life skills training. This means they do not know how to shop for food, cook a meal, or wash their cloths. All skills required to live independently. Nor do they really have mentors to whom they can turn for guidance.

The Good news is the Pastor is open to ideas about providing mentors and life skills training, but this all takes money which is not currently available. Some of the organizations which provide major funding for the orphanage are looking to purchase so property for the older children. We looked at it yesterday. It was nice; it needs a lot of work, but it is a good base. While not the complete answer, a place to live must be part of the answer. 

I love and miss my family. And when I see someone like Richardson who is 15 and lives at the orphanage I think of my children and my son of the same age. I am grateful for him, and my girls. I pray that these children will either find a forever family or learn the skills to be successful as an independent adult.  These children, as mine, will always be part of the family of Christ. Amen. 

The Way Out

I have spent a lot of time in airports this week. I had an unexpected business trip to Atlanta, which meant I spent all of Wednesday and much of Thursday in airports getting between San Jose, California and Atlanta, Georgia. Now I find myself in an airport again as I head to Port-au-Prince, Haiti for two weeks. I am not sure my spirit and mind have caught up to this reality and I suspect this long over night flight from SJC to LAX to JFK to PAP is a blessing in disguise so that I can quiet my soul and get in the right place for this trip.

If you have been reading any of my posts you should be aware that one of the main things on my mind is the children at the orphanage that are nearing the age of majority. At some point the children, really young adults, will be too old to continue to live at the orphanage and alternate arrangements will have to be made else they may end up on their own in the streets or in situations of abuse. I have been doing a lot of reading in this area and armed with a little knowledge I hope to help in anyway I can and not be a burden or a roadblock to the pastor managing the orphanage. 

I have tried to make contact with one of the stateside organizations that help fund and direct the orphanage, but have not received much information about their plans. That is not to say they don't have plans, just that I am not privy to any plans. I know that their has been some talk about purchasing additional land to build young adult housing, but based on my reading, while important, that is only a small part of the overall problem and simply placing the the young adults in alternative housing is necessary, but not sufficient. I hope to have time to work with the pastor to learn of any plans in progress and provide input based on my readings and inputs from others such as Jonathan LaMare from the BeLikeBrit orphanage and Lighthouse Youth Services. 

I pray that God guides this trip to Haiti and that he works through everyone involved to help plan and provide for these children and young adults so that they understand that they are beloved children of God and that they will not be abandoned even as adults. That they are part of a larger family that will be there to support them through their trial into adult hood. That they are given the training and support they require to be who God means them to be. 

While I am away I pray that God protects and supports my family and gives my wife strength and support as she becomes a single parent. Amen. 

Fwiw I set the dog to kill and instructed him on his duty to protect the family before I left. 

Thank you from Pastor Ronel Mesidor

Ronel Mesidor

Dear Shantia

I wouldlike to thank you in the name of Haiti  (Haiti Baptist Convention) for your help, your support and mostly your love for Haiti.  More than 500 people had opportunity to see a doctor, received appropriate medecines.   I receive good testimony from  the dean of the school  about improvement of teachers. the therapist was very useful for tutors at touch of hope. Because of your support Concorde Baptist church have a safe place to install a water purification system. We  are so grateful for that.    Please let all members of team know how their presence was a blessing for us.   thank you so much for coming  and we are waiting for you next year.

Rev. Ronel Mesidor

West Executive Ministry

Haiti Baptist Convention

Phone: 509 38538506

Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. Psa 41:1

Last day at the clinic #3

Boy I do go on & on, hope you are not bored.


A final cold shower and it was time for bed. I was sad to leave Haiti and the children with so much left undone but eager to see my family. I pray for the team that is staying, that they will have a safe and productive week and that God guides them to serve in the best way they can.

Dear God,
Thank you for the therapists, I know I should be calling them aides because they do not have a college degree or a license but they truly are therapists in spirit and in their skillful handling of the patients. Bless Isenanie, Eunice, Nachela, and Anscy in their work and bless the children who come to the clinic. Please, Lord, find a way to allow more parents to bring their children to the center, I am sure the need is overwhelming. We prayed for the van that transported us everywhere so I think You will understand if I pray for a van with a lift and a wheelchair that will work and the money for a driver to pick these kids up and bring them to,the center. With You, Lord, I know all things are possible. May the practice of all kinds of therapy continue to grow,throughout Haiti so,that all the children who,need these services may receive them. InJesus' name we pray, amen.

Home sweet home

So I've been home for a couple of days now and settling back into my own routine. I remember when I first got to Haiti how unreal it seemed, like I was in a movie. Then after a couple of days it seemed like the only reality. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about how it worked and why. The more I learned it seemed the more barriers there are to the Haitians being successful. I read a book a while ago by Paul Farmer, many of you might know him as the doctor from Massachusetts who has done so much for Haiti. His book is called the Pathologies of Power and it discusses the issues of how the first world contributes to keeping the third world oppressed. I want to read it again now.
Once I was settled into my routine in Haiti, it seemed my life at home was just a dream. Now it feels like Haiti was a dream. Did that really happen? Was I really a part of it? Or was it a movie I watched? I look at the pictures and I am in them so it must be real. If I close my eyes I can feel the orphans arms around me and smell charcoal burning. I miss it and my team and the therapists and Pierre, my translator. He was one of those people you meet who you instantly feel you have known him your whole life, and even if years go by before you see him again, you will pick up right where you left off. I felt like I could ask him anything about Haiti, how or why or why not or what did it feel like and he would not hesitate to share himself with me. What an amazing young man. I cherish his friendship and I hope he is reading this. He knew exactly how to convey what people were saying to me and when to leave something out, either something I said that wasn't quite sensitive enough, or something the therapists said. He helped me to joke with them and that broke the ice and created connections and respect. It's so complicated to try to talk in Haiti, many people have some English but their first language is Kreyol and then when they are old enough to go to school it is the law that school is taught in French. Maybe Maureen wrote about this. Anyway the people switch back and forth between Kreyol and French and I don't really speak any of either except 'bonjour,' 'Merci,' 'au revoir' in French and one Kreyol word, 'excusem' for excuse me. It would have been good to know 'Holy Shit!!' or 'yikes!!!' for driving in the van but not very missionary-like so just as well I didn't.

Anyway the dream that is Haiti haunts me and I find myself talking about it wherever I go. And my mind is still swirling with questions. I have to try to get Young Jonathan's email because I want to know exactly what do the orphans eat for their two meals a day? And does the rain come in those windows in the rainy season and get them wet, the bunk beds are right next to the windows? And why do they only have fitted sheets, no top sheets? I know it's hot but do they ever get cold? And can I send some light soft flannel blankets, for loveys if not for covers? Even when I am hot I can't sleep without some kind of sheet or cover on me.

I tried to google the FLAME therapy program tonight with no luck. Agnes, one of the Hungarian missionaries, emailed me some of the Book they wrote about it but it only the first 9 pages and I want to know more. I think I have found a new hobby, not that I needed one, you know me I am always up to some craft or project or cooking or other mayhem. Haiti is my new hobby, but hobby is too casual a word for it. What should I say? Obsession is too strong a word but maybe passion is close. I hope as I continue to settle into the routines of American life that I don't forget all the goals I have. 1. Learn more about pediatrics to help the therapists more. 2. Come up with some kind of webinar for them & figure out a translator, Pierre or one of the Haitian aides I work with in the nursing home. 3. Send packages and books. 4. Plan talk for church, you are all invited, April 13 at East Congregational church in Milton, 10:00 amservice, be there or be square. 5. Learn to cook rice and beans, Dave loves it and I want to make it for church. I could go on & on. But it's late & I have to work tomorrow so I better pray and go to sleep.

Dear God, thank you for opening my eyes to Haiti and all it means. Thank you for all the Haitians who opened themselves to me and to my team members who understood and felt it with me and taught me and coached and supported me, especially Shantia. Lord, thank you for my life of privilege, for books and the internet for learning. Please watch over my team in their medical mission this week. Please help me post the darn blog successfully, it is giving me some trouble and I have so much to say. Lord, continue to bless the people of Haiti with your love and their strong faith. Bless the leaders of their country and all the countries of the world, that they might see by working together we can give all your children enough to eat and a cozy place to sleep. My lord Jesus, you walked among us and you loved the poor, healed the disabled, and hugged the children. Help me do the same in your name. I love You. Amen.