Well, That Was Fast..

On Tuesday, my last day in Haiti, I wake up a bit early and can hear the sound of a school bus waiting outside of our gate. It has come to pick up the team that has been staying with us for the past week. We go and say our goodbyes and they’re off to the airport. I have a bowl of oatmeal and my morning cup of tea and find myself feeling surprisingly energized and ready to go. So earlier than we’ve left the house all week Megan, Josh, Trevor, and I go up to the school to do a little painting in the classroom that Megs and me started on yesterday.

The scaffolding guys built some pretty rockstar scaffolding for us to climb around on. And as we’re painting the walls a nice cream/egg shelly color (and kind of making a huge mess, oops), it starts to hit me that I’m leaving tomorrow. Ugh. This happened too fast, I just got here. I whine a little bit about it out loud and Josh says, “Oh no, you can’t get the future sads.” But I totally have the future sads. They make me get upset and I yell at Megan for something unimportant, like the way she’s painting. She yells back at me about getting the underside of the crown molding or whatever. Hmph.

I scuttle around touching up different places on the walls kind of dancing to whatever music we have playing through the jam box, not looking where I’m going. When all of a sudden… SMACK! I kick the living beetle juice out of this janky plank of wood that’s lying on the ground. I can tell I’ve done some major damage and immediately start screaming and jumping around before running out of the room hootin’ and hollerin’. I’m bleeding and all the workers start coming to see what’s going on. I yell at them to go away and then am herded back in the room so Megan can assess the damage in peace. Turns out I lodged this giant splinter, nay, stick, in my fourth toe. Megan holds down my other toes while Josh tries to pull it out, but it won’t come. I hold onto Bernard and yell lots of jibberish to avoid uttering excessive profanities. Finally after much anguish it gets dislodged. Megan says to me, “That’s why Kyle says ‘you have to wear closed toed shoes on the job site!’ Don’t tell him, ha.” What kind of trip to Haiti would it be though if I didn’t injure myself or have to have some kind of impromptu surgery? I am such a winner.

Not too long after, the paint job is just about finished up and Megan and me start off for home so I can take some IB profen. We walk down the mountain via the scenic route and soon happen upon this sad little goat bahhing pathetically. He has managed to wrap the rope tied on his neck around a sapling several times putting him on a very short leash. Immediately we set to work trying to free the poor guy. We try pushing his rear in the direction we want him to go, enticing him with leaves, yelling at him in Creole, etc., but he’s pretty dumb. Eventually, I have pick him up and toss him around the tree a few times while Megan hangs back for fear that he’s going to stab her with his horns. But soon we free him! Yay! We figure its some of the most important work we’ve done in Haiti, ha.

At home we have some leftover rice and beans for lunch and then the boys show back up. Since its my last day, we decide to take a little trip to the pretty beach in Grand Guave. That’s probably spelled wrong. Anyway, we all pile into the truck and fire up the jam box for an instant dance party. A little ways down the road, however, we run into some traffic. A crowd is gathered around the road gawking at something. We figure this is bad and cover the girl’s eyes. As we get closer, we see that its worse than any of us expected. There’s a body lying in the middle of the national highway with a fresh river of blood pouring from it and a couple of wrecked motorcycles nearby. The car falls silent as we deal each deal with the ugly side of Haiti in our own heads. The side of the highway holds several reminders of just how dangerous it is for motorists and pedestrians… Sometimes the bodies stay there for hours and hours before anybody comes to remove them.

Further down the road, we slowly start making attempts at conversation again to lift the heaviness. And soon we make it to the beach. It is simply magnificent, we are the only people there. Before I came down to Haiti, I bought several pairs of Christmas reindeer antlers and a Santa hat with the intention of making everyone take family Christmas photos. So before anyone can go get wet or sandy I make everyone pose on the beach. The pictures are PRECIOUS.

Then I go for a swim. As I float around in the gorgeous Caribbean on this warm December day, there is absolutely nowhere else in the world I would rather be. I feel perfectly peaceful, totally thankful. I never want to leave. We spend the rest of the afternoon recuperating from the week and having fun until the sun dips to the horizon making the sky look like cotton candy.

On the drive home, we sing along to NSYNC while the girls fall asleep in our laps and drool on us. At home we have another delicious meal of rice and beans. The internet has been out all week (along with the generator and our running water…) but Bernard brought us a Natcom internet stick and we can get online! We have a housewide skype call with Kyle because we all miss him tons and catch him up on everything going on up at the school. Then Bernard calls Josh and asks if we want to go hang out with him down the street… hm this could be fun.

Josh and I head out to this store that’s basically a shed on the side of the highway with a beer fridge, one or two lights, a very loud sound system blaring various rap songs, and a few folding chairs set up outside. As we walk across the street, Josh says, “Dude Kat, we’re like going out in Haiti.” I think to myself that we must be some pretty cool white folks J. We meet Bernard and his brother Benoit who pull up chairs for us and buy a round of Prestige for everyone. Mangy but cute animals come up and hang out with us. We spend the next few hours talking and laughing while obnoxious music blares out into the darkness.

Benoit keeps disappearing and coming back with go-boxes full of Haitian bbq, which is delicious, but also a bit suspicious in my eyes because I’m incredibly picky about only consuming boneless, skinless, white meat chicken. Haitians, however, eat the whole chicken. I mean the WHOLE thing. I’ve watched the girls gnaw on plenty of bones in my time and the guys I’m with tonight are doing the same thing. I try not to gag as I watch them. Soon Josh is like oh relax Kathryn, and starts munching on a bone. He claims that its delicious. I don’t believe him and turn up my nose. But soon everyone is picking on me and, after awhile, they convince me to try it… I am so disgusted writing this right now, but I actually bite into a bone and suck out some of the marrow. And… its not actually that bad… But I will never do it again. The adventure continues as nature calls and I have to run around back to use the Haitian restroom. I’ve had to do that a lot this week- its always pretty exciting. Then we finish our Prestige and its time to go home. The highway is emptier than I’ve ever seen it and the sky is absolutely brilliant, jam packed with more stars than any American would ever know existed.

At home I snuggiewuggles up to my bff in our bed and am just thankful, thankful, thankful. Thankful that Megan answered God’s call and has been living in Haiti just about a year now. Thankful that the first phase of a school for over 350 kids, the majority of whom are child slaves, is almost finished up on the mountain. Thankful that Megan has two beautiful girls sleeping in their beds across from us. Thankful that God brought together the people that he did to do his work here and that he pulled me into this big adventure that has surpassed my wildest dreams. And then, I drift off to sleep one more night in Haiti.

Homecoming

I’m back! And the blog clearly needs to be updated. I sat down yesterday and tried to start writing, but I waited too long and too much has already happened and I’ve been tripping over where to start. Suffice it to say that coming to Haiti has felt like nothing short of a glorious homecoming. From getting off the plane and walking into the airport that is collapsing around you to the warehouse where you pick up your baggage on the “luggage carousel” and into a beat up tap-tap to drive through the pure chaos that is Port au Prince. I love it here. It literally feels like I never left.

But I did leave. And while I was busy working at grad school a few things changed:

• · Son of God orphanage CLOSED!
• · We got a CAR!
• · Thorston moved
  out and so we now have the top floor of the house while groups are able to stay on the bottom floor.
• · We now have a stove and a fridge. Winning.
• · Megan adopted Michaelle’s sister, Jessica.
• · The first building of the school is so close to being completed!
• · I finished a quarter of grad school (!?!)

But even so, it feels like I never left. Coming back to all the people I love here is coming home. I could rage on and on about everybody here. Actually, I feel like that’s what I spend most of my time doing.

Anyway, so the past few days: I’ve been going up to the school construction site on the mountain with KTB (Kyle the Builder in case you forgot) a whole lot; not because I’m useful in any tangible way, but because everybody needs a cheerleader, right? So I’ve been trying to run around a lot and say hi to all the workers, tell them good job, and occasionally burst into a song and dance for their amusement.

Maybe that’s good for productivity or something. And I love doing it. I love seeing them smile, even if its just because they’re making fun of the crazy white girl. I’m more proud than I can say of Kyle, Bernard, and everyone who has been working hard at the site day in and day out. The school looks incredible and is going to make a huge difference in so many lives here in Gressier… it already has.

Unfortunately, KTB had to leave us yesterday. The night before we all stayed up talking and laughing late into the night until everyone fell asleep one by one – the boys first and then Megan did that thing where she is talking and then falls asleep mid sentence and starts twitching. I stayed awake for a while after filled with joy and thanking God that I was in that exact place and time with these people I love so much. That was also the first night I’ve been really cold here. I went to sleep with pants on and actually felt really snuggly under the covers – a first for me in Haiti.

But then the sun rose all too quickly and we were off to the airport for a very miserable goodbye. I was glad to have Josh to talk to the whole way home and I don’t remember much else about the day except for taking a very intense nap, being sad, and going to the chicken coop orphanage at LaColline with the team that got in a few days ago.

Since then, I’ve appointed myself the unofficial deputy builder replacement. I’m not Kyle, nor do I know what I’m doing, but I’ve got spunk darnit. So I’ve gone up to the mountain the past couple of days to see how things are coming along, sing songs, say hi to everyone, look important, etc. Yesterday I pottered around for a bit before measuring the cistern they’re digging by the future kindergarten wing. It was at 7 feet and needs to be at 9 by Saturday and I made sure to tell everyone that. They thought I was funny. I’m not sure anyone takes me very seriously… hmm. Anyway, I was super pumped that they finished the first classroom! Then today when I went up for roll call I was very pleased to see the cistern was at 8.5 feet and will totally be finished by tomorrow. The guy doing the floors stayed a whole hour extra to finish the second classroom, yay! I made sure to sing him lots of song and make the children I was playing with clap very loudly for him when it was finally finished. So, basically I’ve had a fabulous time being the unofficial deputy builder.

Other notables from the past week: right after getting here we went to the orphanage where the girls from Son of God are now living. I’m pleased to say they look SO much better! Big improvement. We took a day to go to the beach… they found a new beach while I was gone that is grrreat. We ate freshly caught lobster and you can actually see the bottom there. And having a car is the greatest thing of all time. Woot! More to come...

Home Again

Well, my Haitian summer has come to an end. I left a day early to avoid getting stuck due to Emily coming our way. That day was crazy. I woke up and packed furiously because a car was supposed to come at 9 to take me to the airport. Turns out the car didn't show up until close to noon. My flight wasn't until 4:15, but I was still panicking. I can't remember the last time I've been that nervous. I think it was nerves on top of just being upset; being so ready to just go because I knew I had to, but never wanting to leave.

Megan had to leave at 8 and we said a pretty quick goodbye so that our bleary eyes didn't turn into big tears. Well, mine turned into big tears after she and Michaelle walked out the door to take the new team to go work. Then Kyle had to leave to go up to the mountain and do builder things. Another awful goodbye. Tashi and Cullen stayed with me and kept me from going off the edge. The driver finally showed up and I breathed the most massive sigh of relief (although I have to admit I wasn't confident that the car wasn't going to break down or something). We made one more trip into PAP passing places I feel like I've been going by for years now.

I made it through airport security pretty quickly and then went and sat and wrote in my journal and played sudoku puzzles for 2 hours before learning that my flight had been delayed. I then spent 2 more hours doing much the same thing. It was just hard to think about what was going on. It was hard to have my heart hit the floor over and over again when I did think about what was going on.

On the flight I had air conditioning, a beef quesadilla, salad, warm cookie, a toilet that you could flush toilet paper down, and tv. I was very freaked out and annoyed to step out of the PAP airport and be launched, not the least bit gently, headlong into the first world. And the last few days, much the same as our quick trip earlier in the month, have just been weird. But different because I don't have Megan here to process with me and just sad because I don't know when I'm going to get back to Haiti. I feel like I'm living half there and half here. Sometimes being here is effortless because this is what I've grown up with and done my whole life. Other times I can't believe the things that I'm seeing or doing because its so far from the reality that the vast majority of the people in this world will ever experience.

A few days ago I was sitting by a pool in a fancy lounge chair sipping an ice cold glass of water at my grandma's house. And I couldn't help but wonder what sort of cosmic lottery I won to be here. How did I end up being born in America to two parents who love me and have always been able to take care of my needs? Its inexplicable. It hurts my head to think about.

When people ask me, "How was your summer?" or "How was Haiti?" I struggle to answer the question now just as much as I did a week into my time there when new groups would come through and ask about it. Haiti is beautiful. Haiti is horrific. The people are exceptionally kind and giving, full of love, and above all have an uncrushable spirit. The natural beauty of the island is simply magnificent. Yet while there I encountered some of the most blatant evil and most pronounced poverty and suffering I've seen yet. The natural beauty is often hard to detect amongst the piles of trash and deforested land. But through the best and the worst of Haiti, I fell in love with Haiti. God showed me so much about myself and even more about himself. He showed me what it means to trust him when everything on the line. In Psalm 146 we are warned not to put our trust in mere men but to look for our help from the Lord who

"Upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry. The Lord sets the prisoners free, the Lord gives sight to the blind, the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down, the Lord loves the righteous. The Lord watches over the alien and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the plans of the wicked" (Psalm 146:5-10)

And I saw him demonstrate his power and his heart to do each and every one of these things for the sake of his children and for his glory. So many things about this summer were exceedingly trying and difficult. Its a lot easier to put your trust in people and in things that you can see; living in America has allowed me to do that for most of my life. But what does that get you ultimately? The way of the Lord is far better. And I am so glad that God brought me to Haiti this summer. It is such a blessing to have been a part of what he's doing there through Respire and Megan, and through the people he has assembled there to defend the defenseless and speak for those that have no voice.

My heart misses them everyday. My heart misses Haiti everyday. But God has reassured me that just because I'm not physically there anymore, doesn't mean that I am no longer part of the fight. As long as I am on this earth my fight will be to bring God's kingdom to this broken world.

A HUGE thank you to everyone who supported us this summer with prayers, love, and encouragement. Please keep praying for Respire Haiti and the people of Gressier. For more stories and more info, check out Megan's site: www.blessedwithaburden.wordpress.com!! You can stay updated, sponsor a kid in our school, or donate to the building fund so that 300 kids will have a nice, new school to attend that they need so desperately.

I move to Austin tomorrow and start grad school at the University of Texas in the coming weeks studying social work. I'll start working with an agency right away and have a case load this semester. Pretty crazy, right? Where I will work is a surprise for another week, but I can't wait to see what God has for me there. Lot's of looooove and you'll be hearing from me soon!

Search for The Sandwich

A few hours ago when we were up on the mountain earlier this afternoon for the feeding we got stuck in an epic downpour + wind storm. I made sure to run around and yell “Siklone! Siklone!” which is Creole for hurricane, just so everyone would be aware. By the time I trudged home in the mud and street rivers I was soaked through. It was the first time I’ve actually been cold in Haiti. Now I’m curled up in a sweater and leggings with a cup of tea. It feels amazing; definitely optimal writing conditions.

School construction is rolling right along and Kyle the Builder, or KTB if you will, is hard at work on his computer day in and day out making complicated doodles of plans with his fancy architecture software. KTB actually let me help with some surveying of the land the other day. I got the hold the “dumb” end of the measuring tape and even write down some measurements! Anyway, KTB has decided that for the roof of the school they will use a material that we like to call The Sandwich. Its corrugated tin with a thin layer of insulation foam and then another sheet of corrugated tin. Very high tech; only used at the elite schools of Haiti. So we’ve had a pretty tough time finding it.

On Friday, we think we know someone who possesses the rare and precious Sandwich in Port au Prince. As luck would have it, Megan has just made a new friend who has a van and is nice enough to take our whole crew into town. So he, Megan and a large friend of ours pile into the front seat, next row is Michaelle and I, then Kyle and Bernard, followed by Arland who is sitting next to our contact for The Sandwich, and in the backseat is Hallie and Cullen who are our new brother and sister arrivals from Baton Rouge. Hallie goes to Tulane! Cullen goes to LSU… We all pile in and buckle down for the journey into the city.

I am very pleased to learn that the place we are going to find the sandwich is next to Epi D’or, this bakery that is supposedly amazing (and rumored to have pizza) that I’ve been wanting very much to go to. When we get into town and the Delmas neighborhood, we pass Epi D’or in all its glory. I can smell the fresh baked bread from inside the van, and oh my mouth waters. We turn right past it and go down this road into a residential area, which confuses everyone, but our Sandwich contact assures us that this is the way to The Sandwich depot, and directs us onto a street with really big/beautiful houses and right into a dead end. Hm. Well its been a long drive so we all just get out of the car. Our Sandwich contact walks off down the street and to the gate of one of the big/beautiful houses at which he knocks. Woah, The Sandwich must really be special to be hidden on this dead end street inside someone’s palace. Someone answers the gate and the contact slips inside flanked by KTB and me who is dying to see The Sandwich. Kyle walks over to the stack of tin sitting under a basketball goal on the drive in front of the house to inspect the material. He doesn’t look pleased as he peels off a layer of something stuck to the outside of the corrugated tin. Alas, this is not The Sandwich but simply cheaply insulated corrugated tin. Foiled again!

Soooo great, we drove 2 hours into PAP for this. Oh but wait, Epi D’or is right around the corner! Everyone piles back into the van and we make the short drive over. We go into Epi D’or and I feel like I’m stepping into Disneyland. Its like nothing I’ve seen in Haiti. Its big and air conditioned and filled with happy Haitians eating fast food, baked delights, ice cream, and other goodies. There’s large plastic animals that look horribly goofy standing there to greet you and even a water feature! WOW. Megan heads to the counter to order us a pizza and I take Michaelle to the bathroom. We go in the same stall and she asks me if its ok to flush the toilet paper. I see that the toilets are American Standard brand, which I see all over the States, and figure why the heck not. So we laugh watching the paper get sucked down really fast when we flush the powerful American Standard toilet. Next its on to wash our hands, which Michaelle forgets to do initally. But then she gets the chance to use her first automatic soap dispenser followed by an automatic hand dryer! At first she’s a little scared of the hand dryer but when she sees that it isn’t harming me and its actually quite fun to use, she steps up and has a good ol’ time. It was the most fun I’ve probably ever had in a public restroom.

We go back to the table and try the pizza. It is SO good. Or maybe its average and I haven’t had pizza in two months, but I think its pretty darn amazing. We give a piece to Arland, his first slice of pizza ever. We tried to get him one earlier in the week when we went to MacEpi (wow, that’s a whole ‘nother story) but they didn’t have any so we got him a cheeseburger instead. It was a big week for Arland, who decided that he likes cheeseburgers better than pizza. After pizza we walk over and get some ice cream. It is so cold and absolutely delightful. I can’t believe this Epi D’or place! But after awhile, I sit there and realize how big of a weirdo I am for getting THAT excited about pizza ice cream and a Disneyland-esque eatery. Its so out of place in Haiti. I feel like a dumb white person. We saw a bunch of other dumb white people in matching t-shirts there, go figure.

On the way home we get stuck in a massive traffic jam. For the first hour or so I curl up on one of the seats and fall asleep, ending up on Kyle’s lap. The next hour we play Mancala on KTB’s phone; I beat him pretty handily. Once the car starts moving again I feel sick looking at the screen and have to quit. Just about that time this car full of gangster looking guys pulls up next to the van and yells, “Yo, where the party at?” I laugh and reply that the party is right here. Then they start handing us their CD’s through the window, apparently they are the Project Boyz. (Do they even have projects in Haiti?) I talk to one of them who’s name is Shiney. I ask him if his name is Shiney because his watch is so blingin’. One of the Project Boyz then hands me a poster, and I hand it back and ask if they’ll autograph it for me. They say of course, but don’t have a pen so I rifle around for a pen as our cars are getting away from each other. But they pull back up alongside us and have managed to find a pen themselves and pass me a complete autographed Project Boyz poster. I’m so proud of my new piece of memorabilia! Megan and I have done such a great job of networking with Haiti’s hip-hop community over the last few months. Haha.

A bit later I look back and see Arland starting out the window, seeming to be in his own little Arland world as usual. (If I haven’t mentioned this before, Arland is one of our translators and makes up half of team “Katland.” Very near and dear to my heart.) I ask him, “Arland, what are you thinking about? You always seem to be thinking about something.” He says back, “I don’t know, Kat, I think about lots of things.” Then he pauses and says, “I was thinking about how you are leaving next week and I won’t get to see you anymore.” I was so struck by that, I think my heart hit the seat.

And that’s how I feel about leaving, heart on the ground. I know I’ll be leaving a huge hunk of my heart here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so excited about grad school and moving to Austin and getting to learn a new town and school, but like I said in my last post, going back to America is going to be so weird. When we were out running the other day, Cullen asked me what do I miss a lot about home. And all I could really think of right then is my family and friends. Other than that, I’m happy with the way things are. Things are simple and beautiful here. I’ve gone through some very rough times, but I feel like that’s brought me closer to this place and these people. I’m upset because its going to be so hard to keep up with the people that I love here, most of them don’t have facebook or email accounts. I’ll have to work on that. Tomorrow we’re having a sort of going away party and inviting my good friends before another big group comes in on Monday. I am looking forward to it and so not at the same time.

Anyway, another little something worth mentioning. After we get home from PAP last night Kyle and Cullen pull out these cigar tins that say Royal Cuban and such on them that they bought at Deli Mart earlier in the week. Well they open up the tins and out come cigar shaped bottles of perfume. HAHAHAHA. Imagine the look on their faces! The End.

Little Update

Sorry I haven’t written in so long. Life has been a whirlwind. This is just going to be a brief update.

Let’s see, since I last wrote, I went on my first run since my health issues. I was running and REJOICING over the fact that my legs were working well and not hurting me. I forgot how amazing our secret beach is. Its so incredible to just go there and be alone with the beauty of the Caribbean and of this island. And to just decompress for 30 minutes out of the day. What a blessing.

We took Michaelle to a swimming pool for the first time. Thorsten has been telling us about this place in Gressier called Number One for so long and we’ve been trying to go. Last Sunday, Megan, Michaelle, and I piled into his truck and finally discovered the mysterious Number One. Its pretty nice, a giant swimming pool with actual lounge chairs. This was the first time Michaelle had ever seen a swimming pool - she flipped out. Before she would get in she was rattling off questions in Creole to Megan, “Is this part of the ocean? Why is the water so clear? Where are the rocks, where is the sand?” We reassured her that swimming pools are a great time and perfectly safe. When she was convinced and got in, she had a blast swimming. The uh, tricky, part of Number One is there are these two giant statues of naked women squatting by the pool… and they’re actually fountains. The place from which water sprays is between their spread legs. Awkward! Michaelle was freaked out by these giant women at first, as were Megan and I.

Anyway, that was a nice little vacation day before our week really ramped up again. Megan and I made an all day trip to Port au Prince on Tuesday. Megan went back on Wednesday, which was the same day the latest group came in. It’s a group of college students from a church in Baton Rouge. I’ve enjoyed having them around. Somehow a group of college students is a little more fun for me than a bunch of adults, go figure. The only problem is that they’re from LSU so Megan and I are constantly in battle with them about whose school is better. Clearly its Tulane.

Kyle the builder has come back as well, which is quite exciting. A lot of visible progress has been made on school construction!! Parts of the wall are going up right now. It has been so cool to see. I keep trying to get Kyle to let me be his junior surveyor, but I’m not sure he thinks I’m cool enough.

I leave in a little over a week. WEIRD. I don’t want to think about it. I didn’t know what I was getting into exactly before I came here. I had a vague idea but when’s the last time I really ever had to go without electricity, running water, Walmart, etc. Well when I go back to America I know exactly what its going to be like and its going to rock my world. And then I move. And then I start school. And then…. woah, right?

Big, Bad Parenthood

A few days ago, much earlier than I enjoy, I got up with the babies to give Megan a break as I sometimes do. I really woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, probably because we stayed at Thorstens late the night before hanging out with our German pal, and am not particularly thrilled to change the poopy diaper and then be dragged into the kitchen. Michaelle brings me book after book so the three of us sit on the kitchen floor and read. You know how hit and miss children’s books are. Some of them I kind of get into and other ones make me groan; sometimes I change the words or entire plots because I can’t believe how stupid they are. It doesn’t really matter, the kids can’t understand 98% of what I’m saying anyway since these books are in English. A lot of times I’ll just point out at cow or a baby on a page and then every time they see it on subsequent pages, they point and yell, “COW! (or CA! according to Gabriel), and, “BEBE!” I’m really proud of the way they’ve taken to reading though and how eager they are to learn… even if I am really annoyed at the fact that I’m sitting on the kitchen floor instead of laying down.

Soon I fear that if I read one more of these books about cows and babies, my eyes are going to pop out. I whip them up a delicious and nutritious breakfast of either corn flakes and powdered milk or oatmeal, I don’t remember which, and we sit down on the floor and eat (we don’t have our dining furniture built yet at this point, or much of any furniture at all really). Then we go have some playtime. I develop a nice headache as the kids pull on my legs, run around, and pull all the toys off of the shelf, making a giagantic mess that someone is going to have to pick up later. As I sit there and watch all of this, I am overcome thinking about parenthood.

I know I’m only 21 years old and I shouldn’t hit the panic button, but oh my gosh, I don’t know if this is really something I ever want to do. To be a parent is a sacrifice of the most epic proportions!! It is to stop what you’re doing at 8 every single night, so that you can start the bedtime routine with two kids that don’t like to go to bed, especially the 2 year old who REALLY hates bedtime. And then parenting is waking up at 7 (and at several points in between on some nights), or whenever Gabrielle makes his poopy diaper, to the smell of a hot mess. Its cleaning up the same mess of little plastic trinkets, colors, flashcards, food, etc. that is made everyday. You can’t just get up and go anywhere you want to. And while I’m in my bad mood, this feels like prison. Just because you’re in a bad mood, or have a headache, or would rather be in bed or – maybe should I attempt this again later in life- want to go out with your husband, or friends, or whatever, you are still a parent and that comes first. Its like there is no you anymore. I know I sound like a selfish whiney baby (and I am still 21 after all), but its true, and I know there are a lot of people out there who go into this whole baby-having thing without knowing that it is this way (see Casey Anthony). So yea, I will not be having children for a LONG time (…if ever).

A little bit later in the morning, everyone is up and having there breakfast. Megan and I are sitting at her desk drinking coffee and planning some thing or another when the phone rings. Her face changes, goes white, and I know something is wrong. I don’t remember everything that happened because it went really fast but there’s been an emergency and she is flying out the door with Gabrielle. I stay at home with Michaelle, not knowing what is going on.

Then I am reminded why parents sign up for the miseries of parenting and go about them dutifully: because they LOVE their children. Our kids (mostly Megan’s kids, but mine too in some small way, definitely in my heart) are so beautiful. Seeing them laugh and play and goof off is so worth picking up the trail of destruction they leave behind. Some of my most treasured moment here in Haiti are the dance parties Megan and I have with the kids in the living room. We put on music and dance all-out and have the best time. I get SO excited when Michaelle learns new English words, gets her numbers right, or learns a new color (we’re really struggling with pink right now). Gabrielle has really come out of his shell lately and has started playing all kinds of pretend games, like when he crawls around making this really gnarly face and growls at everyone until we poke him and he erupts into a fit of giggles. I LOVE these kids.

When Megan and Gabrielle walk through the door later that afternoon, my heart turns a happy flip in my chest. I love her and these kids and I’m happy to do everything I can for them. I know this is only a small taste of what it means to be a parent; I won't be here for much long and real parenting is a life sentence. You actual parents are probably laughing at me and saying, "If you only knew..." But I am so thankful for having them in my life.

Real Haiti Secret Marketplace Mission

Yesterday I am going about the normal things that I go about: cleaning the house, playing with the munchkins, making lunch (gahlee I’m such a house mom), when I realize we really don’t have enough food lying around to feed ourselves and this group that’s staying with us. So I talk to Tashi (who is staying with us long term now :) and we get Fifi and head off to Carrefour to go to the market. Fifi is our super awesome nanny/housekeeper who is this sweet old lady that hasn’t had a job in years and is so happy to come in. She wears the same checkered hat everyday and floral print button down dresses. I LOVE Fifi.

So the three of us leave the house with this reusable Walmart tote. I am SO excited to be the only white person; I feel like this is Kathryn getting to do Real Haiti. Instead of going the usual way, straight out of the gate Fifi takes us down this path through some grassy lots that shortcuts to the road. We pass a tent and someone’s house before getting to the main highway. Usually we have to wait awhile or walk a little bit to catch a taptap, but one passes almost immediately and we flag it down. I swear its because we’re with Fifi, she is too cool. Tashi and Fifi crawl into the taptap and squish in while I end up getting stuck on the end seat. Oh great, the blanc (what Haitians call white people [pronounced blaah, really unflattering]) gets stuck hanging out of the back of the taptap. I think about how hard everyone is going to laugh when I fall out and get hit by a motorcycle or something so I proceed to death grip the handle above me and the rail holding me in. I soon realize that this actually is a really great seating arrangement; I usually don’t fit under the taptap roof because I’m too tall. This way I don’t have to crouch down, I can breathe air that doesn't smell like armpits, and I get a wonderfully unobstructed view of the countryside and towns. It’s a very enjoyable ride.

We soon make it into the filthy grime hole that is Carrefour. I have really come to dislike that place – no offense to my friends that live there. I pay the taptap driver and then follow Fifi and Tashi along the side of the road crammed with vendors, people, chickens, oh, and filth. Tashi stops at a stand selling rice and beans. She asks me what kind of rice I want, I don’t really know, but she buys a whole bunch of this greenish-brown rice and fills the Walmart tote halfway. It already weighs what I estimate to be around, oh say, 100 pounds. I get to carry it, yay. We walk a bit further and suddenly Fifi ducks into an alley way. I get really excited, it seems my Real Haiti adventure is heating up. We squeeze through this narrow passageway and then it opens up into a full-out market place. I feel like a giddy kid going with mommy to the grocery store to buy goodies. I try to wipe the stupid look off my face because everyone is looking intently at the only blanc for miles around.

Our first stop inside the Real Haiti underground market place is the meat section. I am all at once thrilled and horrified by the meat zone. There is raw chicken just sitting out everywhere and the people selling it are practically sitting on top of it. I stand in the middle of the walkway in between tables covered in chicken parts while a voice in my head is screaming, “SALMONELLA! SALMONELLA! RUNNN!” But I do not run, even as my eyes gaze upon chicken feet for sale (meaning someone must buy them and eat them) and then I see something else… some amorphous meat shape next to the chickens. I can then make out a snout on one of these meat shapes and realize it is part of a pig face. I ask Tashi what the heck that is about, but she continues to select chicken parts that will later be our dinner. (I would be totally afraid to eat this, but I’ve done it too many times to count before I actually knew where it came from and have been totally fine.) She puts some raw chicken into a plastic bag and we continue with our shopping trip. Next we run into a man selling beef. He has this massive slab of cow that he’s just hacking away on. He cuts off something for us which we then plastic bag and keep going.

Tashi then goes to buy vegetables which I have been asking for and I stand off to the side. Two girls start talking about me to my face, but in Creole, so I’m like ???? They seem to be saying nice enough things by their body language though so I make a nice white person face at them. They probably called me ugly or something... My attention is then grabbed by someone talking very loudly. I see that he has a megaphone and is carrying a speaker that is playing a hook and beat. He’s rapping about something and people are dancing. I think this is really awesome and can’t help but laugh. I want very badly to join his little parade and dance along, but that could get crazy, so I refrain. I ask Tashi what he’s rapping about. She listens for a minute and then tells me that he is in fact rapping about soap. Soap??! Hahahaha! I find this hilarious and can’t help but stand there and laugh as I watch people dancing to this guy’s rap about soap. I then remember this one time I saw an Oxfam caravan going down the main highway with a truck carrying giant speakers. They had a similar sort of rap going and I asked Megan what that was about. Turns out they were driving around rapping about washing your hands to prevent Cholera. And there you have Haitian PSAs.

Anyway, a few stalls and a gillion plastic bags later, we are absolutely loaded down with meat, fruit, veggies, and a coconut that I really wanted. Its getting to be too much for the 3 of us to carry so I figure that this trip is about to be over. We emerge from the Real Haiti secret underground marketplace through a hole in some tents and are back on the main road. That is when Tashi decides that we need to buy a watermelon. Yes, a watermelon. And then she tells me that Fifi isn’t actually going back to the house with us and we will have to carry all of this stuff back, just the two of us. I don’t think we’re going to make it, but Tashi is like, “No, we can do it. I show you.” The three of us drag the all the goods across the road to catch a taptap just as it starts to rain. I then see my first white person of the day – a man riding shotgun in some SUV with his video camera up and rolling. I’m embarrassed. Meanwhile, the first 7 taptaps or so that drive past us are not going to Gressier, but eventually we catch one that is fairly empty and pile in all of our stuff.

It’s a nice ride, we never got too overwhelmingly crowded. We drop Fifi off, I string together a sentence in Creole to tell her that I’m happy she came with us today and am proud of myself. We then head into Gressier. When we get into the “downtown” area, its down to Tashi, myself, and some other random person. The driver then yells at us and does an abrupt u-turn in the road. Oh great, he decided he’s going back to Carrefour and we are not quite yet home. Somehow, Tashi and I manage to get all the stuff off the taptap, watermelon included, and try to consolidate our bags so that we can cross the road all in one trip. I don’t know how we do it, but we actually get everything across the street the first time and into a taptap that soon comes along. We know that we won’t be able to carry this stuff from the road to our house so we make a plan. When we hop off near our house, I run down Fifi’s shortcut path to the house and bring 3 boys back with me and we all carry the stuff home. And the day ends happily with a delicious meal of rice and beans with a side of mango and fresh squeezed juice. I have yet to eat my coconut, but gee am I excited!

Real Haiti secret marketplace mission: accomplished.

Thankful

Last week was a colossal adventure of a very different kind – Megan had some meetings come up that were extremely important for her to attend back in Baton Rouge. Soooo the two of us hopped a plane back to the good ol’ US of A. I was going to just keep the trip on the down low, after all we were only there for 3 days, but I got such a massive dose of culture shock and perspective on time in Haiti that I have to write about it.

It all starts in the PAP airport on Tuesday morning. I’m feeling really weird about the whole idea of going to America – I’m excited but we’re leaving the kids and its just kind of weird timing. This was certainly not a trip I was expecting to make a few weeks ago. We’re going through security checkpoint number one and all these Haitians are trying to cut me in line to get through the metal detector and one lady who shows up in front of me keeps trying to shove my duffle off the belt so her bag can go through the x-ray scanner first. Megan steps back and yells at these people in Creole, “We are all going to the same place!” Haha. At security checkpoint number two an officer, or something like one, pulls my purse off the belt and rummages through it rather intensely. After another minute of this I look at Megan, and starting to get annoyed say, “I have never had anybody rifle through my stuff like this. What is he looking for??” She doesn’t know. And half a minute later he finds what he’s looking for… a pocketknife thing with giant plier claws hanging off the front of it. I am HORRIFIED! It got in there earlier in the week when we were moving the very last load from the old house and I used it to cut the mosquito net off our bed. When I was done, I just threw it in my purse. And now here I am trying to bring a knife onto our airplane. Oops… Good thing it wasn’t still there when we went through checkpoint number 3, right?

Once we’re inside the terminal with plenty of time to spare before our flight we grab some coffee and I spot a group of Methodists with their matching red shirts. (Don’t shoot me, but some of the matching shirts I’ve seen short-term church and mission groups wear have been atrocious. Thanks for the laughs guys. [I guess in this case though it is helpful because I’ve been trying to find Methodists since I’ve been here.]) Megan and I go talk to these fine people before boarding our plane to the land of the free, home of the brave, etc.

We make it to Miami and seat ourselves at a Mexican restaurant just in time to see that the verdict of the Casey Anthony trial is about to be read. Both of us are like, who is this exactly? What did she do again?... Since we’ve been living in Haiti which is similar to living under a rock. We quickly surmise that she has killed her child. Hm. (Or not, according to the jury) Welcome back.

Looking around this airport with eyes used to seeing Haiti, Haiti, and more Haiti but eyes that have also grown up in America, half the time I spend going about our layover (and the rest of the trip for that matter) as though this were very normal. The other half I am in awe of all the things around me. This airport has more infrastructure and contains more technology than the whole city of Port au Prince, best I can tell. We’re sitting in this fancy wine bar having a glass of wine outside our gate before the plane shows up and there’s music playing through a sound system. No doubt there is different music playing in the shop next door that is different from the shop next to it. They’re all air conditioned. This place is impeccably furnished and decorated, there are fancy wine dispenser gadgets because in America we don’t have to pour our own wine, the technology can do it for us. For the first time in over a month it’s the middle of the afternoon and we’re not drowning in our own sweat. We sit and talk about this strange place; and the place we just came from.

After we land in New Orleans I’m in the not very large bathroom near baggage claim and have another very distinct moment of, what is going on? I look up and notice that there are more lights in this not very large bathroom than there are in our entire house, our very nice house. The toilet flushes automatically taking the toilet paper with it before I can even get my shorts up. Most people in this world can’t even flush their toilets. And if I knew what I thought about this, I would tell you what I thought about this. But instead I can only share my observations and let you tell me what you think because that’s what I spent the rest of the trip puzzling over – what do I think about this? What does this mean?

On Thursday, Megan and I are driving to New Orleans so we can fly out in the morning. We make a pit stop in Baton Rouge so that I can see a doctor at the hospital just to check on my abscesses and make sure everything is all good. He takes one look at it and is like, “Oh yea, that’s staph.” I feel like my head is getting sucked into a vacuum, like the room is wooshing past me. I can’t believe that this is staph, that I’ve had it not knowing what it was for at least two weeks and taking whatever meds. The doctor says my Haitian doctor did a good job with the I&D and assures me that its fine to go back to Haiti before loading me down with the appropriate medications to take.

I drive back to New Orleans while Megan sleeps next to me in the passenger seat and my head is back in that vacuum. I think about my friends who have been in the hospital from staph and how serious this stuff can get. I feel overcome with how blessed I am to have my legs right now in good working order. In fact I’m tearing up a little bit over it (Megan wakes up just in time to see that and laugh).

It all comes clearly into focus for me how God has been working out everything for our good here: From leading us to this new house just before our lease ran out on the old one; where Thorsten lives upstairs who just finished building a beautiful school and is helping us with supplies and machinery for ours, and where my very competent and sweet doctor lives across the street and checked on me everyday when I was sick. I think of God keeping the staph from gnawing my legs off, of all the people that prayed for me in English and in Creole. Us making a random trip to the states just in time to get some meds and have my leg looked at. God turning our day-to-day adventures, and mistakes, into good things like the mango curry bomb incident or that time we got pulled over at a police checkpoint and things should not have gone well for us, but went fine and we made our appointment. Now the school is starting and everything is coming together. And we KNOW this isn’t by our own power. It just couldn’t be. The things that happen here are too great, too random, too incredible to be accomplished by what any person is doing. God is demonstrating his power and his deep love for his people.

We take things so day-by-day here. Unlike in America, we don’t have our days scheduled out down to the hour, we just can’t. Sometimes that can be a bit frustrating, but God makes it work; we can follow where he leads us because we don’t already have this clear idea plotted out that we’re dead set on of where we want to go. Life in Haiti has been beautiful, messy, hard, and so so difficult for me to explain. But it all just felt clear and peaceful and right in my soul when I had that time to step back from my Haiti life, the chaos of being in the middle of it, and see what it has been; what God has done.

I leave in exactly 3 weeks (I think). I cannot believe how fast this summer has flown by. I’m in awe of what God has done here right before my very eyes; in this place, in and through Megan’s life, and in my own. And I’m excited to see what lies ahead in the next 21 days.

Family Photos

"Got Money on My Mind"

On a plane back to the states from Haiti a few months ago, my very own Megan was in a particularly bad mood – cranky, dirty, hungry, etc. After she sits down in her seat, some guy comes and takes his seat next to her. He begins to talk to her and she thinks to herself, “Gee, I really wish he would quit talking to me, I’m certainly NOT in the mood for this today.” She’s very short with him, but he keeps talking. Her interest is peeked when he says that he’s in Haiti for vacation. Who goes to Haiti for vacation? ...He used to live there. She then finds out he’s the old head of a very BIG branch of the UN in Haiti. At the end of the flight, they exchange contact info and he says he’ll look her up when he comes back to Haiti.

Well he actually does. And flashforward to Thursday night, Megan and I are heading into PAP to have dinner with him. Let’s call him Carlos Santana.

I didn’t know if I would be able to make it with my leg issues, but I feel pretty good and won’t be doing much walking anyway. Someone from a team left behind a pretty floor-length dress which I now claim as my own and it does a great job of covering up the suspect spots on my legs. We hire a car that afternoon to our hotel in Petionville. Petionville is one of the nicest parts of Haiti and while our actual room is pretty basic, the pool area/restaurant/bar area is GORGEOUS. Its decorated marvelously and the view from the terraces looks like it could be in California. We go have a little afternoon snack of chicken sandwiches with cheese on them, complete with a side of French fries.

We notice a group of people nearby, rather gangster looking people, start to gather and grow in number. Then some cameras show up and other equipment – all of which leads us to believe there is to be a music video shot at our hotel very soon. I get up to go to the bathroom and on the way run into two gangster looking folks who say hello and I take this opportunity to find out what is going on. They introduce themselves as like Sniper and Swift Kick (I find out later his name is actually Straight Shot) or something like that. We have in fact stumbled onto the set of their music video, and they would like very much for us to be in it. Hahahaha. I think this is just too good/funny to be true. But sure enough when Megan and I are laying out at the pool a bit later there is a camera rolling with Straight Shot rapping into it about having money on his mind. Some other rapper who’s name is O-gun comes and sits by us at the pool and strikes up quite the conversation. I’m very entertained watching the video girls setting up in their strategic booty-shaking locations around the pool. However, it is soon time for us to be going to get ready for dinner so we excuse ourselves but promise to come back after we’ve gotten dressed. This feels more appropriate; who comes straight out of the bush looking like a wild woman with no makeup on and then is in a music video anyway?

We go back to the room and get dressed. It is SO good to have makeup on my face again and my hair down and a dress on!! We go back to the pool/restaurant area and find our rapper friends hanging out. They’re in between shooting the pool scenes and the club scenes. We go down to this “club” area where the next shots are supposed to happen and feel like we’re back in America. There are a bunch of couches, a nice bar, and flat screen tv’s all around showing ESPN. Woah. We sit with Straight Shot for awhile and chat; we decide he’s cool enough to be our friend and exchange numbers. (He’s doing a show here in Gressier/Leogane on July 17^th and he called this morning and said he’s getting us backstage passes, after inviting us to go to Jacmel this week, haha.) Mr. Santana then gives us a ring and is here to pick us up, so we go back to the lobby area to meet him.

Carlos Santana is a very good looking man, right in between Megan and me height-wise. He uses our room to change out of his suit, having been in meetings all day (including one w/the president the day before) and into something a bit more casual. He then takes us out to his car which happens to be one of those armored UN vehicles and two men with gigantic guns open the doors for us. This is all feeling a bit surreal. Megan keeps pinching my thigh and stifling giggles while we make some small talk.

For dinner we go to a restaurant called the Latin Quarter or Quatier Latin or something like that in Creole. There are tons of cars outside on the street, this is one hoppin' place. We go in and its beautiful, I feel like I’m in some hip restaurant in Miami. It feels very Cuban to me, which is strange because I’ve never been to Cuba, but you know. Also very strange is how many white people are there. We’re so not used to seeing white people, but there they all are! Its like the big white people reunion at the Latin restaurant.

For dinner I order beef medallions. My mom’s hamburgers are of better quality beef, but I don’t care because I haven’t had red meat in a month. Megan and Carl Santana get fish. Talking to Mr. Santana is a hoot. I love when he lets the juicy details of his run in the UN slip out. We have a very interesting and wonderful dinner. When we finish up we go to the back bar for a drink and there is a great Latin band playing; they are SO good. And Carlos Santana knows everyone of them, ha. As we get glasses of wine, Mr. Santana runs into some other important person that he knows who’s wife happens to be the head of a very large international humanitarian organization (WFP). Then he starts talking to me. He’s French and adorable. Megan and Carlos Santana go hit the crowded dance floor so me and the French guy do the same. It is too fun! Then Megan dances with a Haitian who’s got quite the moves which leaves me to dance with CS, who is a bit awkward. And at this point I really just want to sit down because I feel like my foot has swollen up a bit, so that’s exactly what I do right when the song ends.

As we sit and sip, Megan and I wonder where we are exactly because this just couldn’t be Haiti. This train of thought is cut short however by the next boys that want to dance. A boy from Argentina comes up and starts chatting. His English isn’t awesome and neither is my Spanish so we kind of struggle to communicate, but he’s precious and I really appreciate him trying! So I dance with him and then am done for the night. I run into my French friend on the way to the car as he is backing out in his Land Rover thing. I go to shake his hand through the window and he grabs it and instead plants a giant kiss on my hand. Haha, how French.

Back at the hotel, Megan and I crash hard, exhausted from being rap stars and international diplomats.

The next morning we get up and go sit out on the terrace for breakfast. Breakfast is MARVELOUS. We get real coffee, fresh squeezed juice, fruit, and eggs. I have a Creole omelette that is just divine. I think that we have stumbled into a little slice of heaven. We also giggle about the night before. When we get in the car on the way home, we tell our driver (Moliaire, our favorite driver) about our adventures. He gets excited and tells us he's seen our rapper friends on tv before, so they're legit. Haha, what a life. Perfect.

I&D

During one of our visits to Thorsten, we found out that a doctor lives across the street from us in our new house (ain’t that lucky). When I first started feeling sick, that’s who I went to go see last Sunday. He gave me some meds, ordered me to rest, and then said that he would do perform an I and D on my abscess in a week. I&D being incision and drain, cut me open and push all the crud out of my abscess. Ew. Come Wednesday though, the thing hurts like flaming Hades and looks like its ready to pop right open so Megan helps me across the street to get the doctor. He comes out and takes a look at the beast and says, “Ok, I’ll do it later.” And I’m like WHAT? Because I think he means later as in, its not ready yet... try again later in the week. But he reassures me that he means today and says he’ll get his tools and slicers and such ready and be over in a little bit. So we turn around to go home. I plop down on our bed and wait.

A little less than an hour later, he comes to the gate. And can I just take this opportunity to say what an amazing guy I think Doctor Frantz is? He is Haitian but speaks wonderful English, works in a clinic in a neighboring town, he’s funny, and he is darn good looking. What a guy! (He still checks up on me almost daily) I really couldn’t have picked out a better doctor to cut on me here if I had to. So anyway, I ask where he wants me to sit or whatever and he says the bed is fine. I lay down. I’m starting to feel very nervous. This thing HURTS and I can’t imagine cutting on it will make my sensory experiences more pleasant. Doctor F asks me if I’m ready, and I think, “aw what the heck,” and give a somewhat enthusiastic Yes…!

I didn’t want to make this too big of an affair, but I guess it just wouldn’t be my style if it didn’t turn out that way. So Megan has decided to be the junior doctor is running around the room excitedly scrubbing up and gathering supplies. At first I said no pictures, but then decided maybe pictures would be kinda cool, so DJ comes in with her super fancy camera to capture the memories. She stands next to me and I wrap my hand firmly around her thigh so I have something to squeeze on. Someone turns on the ipod speaker to some soothing Norah Jones. So we’re all in position, and here we GO.

I wrote the first sentence and then deleted it because I realized this is really graphic. I’m not sure if yall really want to hear all the nitty gritty details. So the short of it anyway is that I get jabbed on with at least 4 needles and then get my abscess cut open, as promised, and all the goods come out just like a piñata. All the while I’m trying not to scream because it is probably the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I don’t actually cry like making sobbing noises (except for one time...) or anything but tears involuntarily shoot out of my eyes and run down into my ears. At some point, Megan yells, “What’s your favorite song!?!” As calmly as I can, reply, “My favorite song is Electric Feel by MGMT.” And she promptly runs to the ipod speaker and begins blasting Electric Feel. Its really weird, I’m not sure whether I’m at some super fun party or if I’m actually getting operated on in my bedroom in Haiti.

Eventually, after I really don’t know how long, its over. He wraps me up and I lay there for a minute before sitting up to survey the damage. Its pretty gross, so I’ll spare you those details on this part too. My adrenaline is pumping hard so I’m feeling really cool at this point thinking about how tough and bad-a its going to be to tell the story of my 3^rd world operation. I thank the good and wonderful doctor profusely; he really did a remarkable job on everything.

After he leaves, I lay back down and let things die down. I notice that my right leg is hurting worse than the left, which just got cut on. This strikes me as odd, and ominous. Megan comes to have a look at it and squeezes on it to get some of the juice out which hurts like MAD. She finishes up and the pain is overwhelming. My adrenaline is gone; I don’t feel cool anymore, just exhausted. And on the verge of tears. They sneak up on me really quick and just start rolling out of my eyes. I wimper at Megan that I just want to be alone for a little while, so she turns up the music and leaves the room.

And I bawl like a baby. I cry for how much I’m hurting, for how traumatizing the last hour has been, I cry for how miserable I’ve been the past week, and for how alone I’ve felt sometimes being in this far away, strange place with all the familiar comforts stripped away.

I hardly ever cry. Its like I'm outside of myself watching me cry and wondering what is this thing this girl is doing. I think the sound of my sobbing is the strangest thing. Its such a weird and foreign noise to me, so pathetic and sad sounding. I struggle to remember the last time I REALLY cried like this, a good bone-shaking cry that wells up from some unknown place deep inside. (I conclude that had to have been when I broke up with my first boyfriend). I let it ALL out right there, and its liberating in so many ways.

Its in these moments where you come to the end of yourself that you can see the truth most clearly, that God is there, sustaining and providing for you moment by moment. I felt him holding me in the palm of his hand.

A little while later, Megan comes back and takes me to the beauty parlor (aka our bathroom) and washes my hair for me. Then she makes me some delicious mashed potatoes and I go to sleep, so tired from the day. I’m very thankful to have to her take time out of the busyness to be my nurse.

(Sorry Mom & Grandma etc. if that traumatized you. You’ll be happy to know that I’m doing MUCH better now and am totally on the mend. I had a really great post-op vacation… stay tuned.) Oh and I really need to get a present for the doc because he still hasn't charged me a dime for anything. Let me know if you have suggestions!!

Moving Day

After meeting with Thorsten last week and the bier for breakfast thing (ha), we agree to move into our new place the following Monday. Come Monday, we are very excited to get this show on the road. Everyone that is home and capable (which is actually only two people) is running around packing up the massive amount of stuff that has accumulated in our house. I, on the other hand, sit on the floor next to Godzilla (my gargantuan suitcase) and put my belongings into him and a few other proximal items that I can hobble over to. All the while I am loathing this abscess, the chronic pain its causing me, and the very unhelpful sack of potatoes it has turned me into.

Finally, in the afternoon, the taptap arrives to take our first load of stuff. We know from the get go that this is going to take multiple loads and multiple days but, we’re moving, YAY! We pile our things and ourselves in and take off for our awesome new white house.

When we pull up, we happily greet Thorsten who opens the front gate for us. Megan at some point says to him, “Your life is never going to be the same.” Boy, ain’t that true. Two loud girls, a toddler that throws monumental tantrums, and a 7 year old girl that speaks no English moving in downstairs does tend to change the dynamic of a living environment a bit.

Once everything is unloaded, I look around and ask everyone what they want for dinner. I suggested earlier that we have gumbo (Zattarain’s of course) and that’s when I realize, we don’t have the hot plate. And then I look through the food that we managed to grab as we were running out of the door. What I find is Pringles, some nut mix cleverly named NUTrition, a bag of prunes, Cheezeits, Ritz cheese sandwiches, and a bunch of box dinners I grabbed that can only be cooked on a stovetop. I am highly annoyed at this discovery. I settle for some NUTrition and Pringles for dinner. A bit later I get up to go to the bathroom and discover that we have forgotten to bring toilet paper. Awkward. I remember that I have some paper towels left in Godzilla from when my shampoo spilled back in Florida and those suffice. But then when I’m done, I see that we haven’t brought any trashcans with us and there is nowhere for me to throw my used paper towel wipes… hm. Little piles of dirt and crumbs start accumulating on the floor and soon I’m just dying to sweep a bit. That’s when I discover that, oh, we left the broom at the other house as well.

I go back to the front porch to snack on a Cheezit or two and someone suggests that we grab a couple of Prestiges to celebrate moving today. I think that is a great idea and I make a mental agreement with myself that I will be totally fine and not annoyed or cranky by the fact that we neglected to bring some very key items along with us this first trip. Just give me a Prestige and I will be quiet and happy.

Now normally, I would just go to the corner store/shack myself and buy the beer. I even wanted to go to the old house earlier and grab the cook top and just make a good ol’ dinner for everyone. However, my legs don’t work so I sit out on the porch and wait. A million things are going on, as usual, and it seems the beer has been forgotten. So I keep sitting there. I know that if I ask again for the beer run to commence, I will be annoying and no one wanted to go back to the old house for the cook top before the sun set. I know there are more important things going on. Usually its totally ok because I can just do it myself, or get up and go amuse myself some other way. But now I can’t. So I keep sitting there. And I get to thinking; thinking about how ANNOYED I am that we didn’t even bring TOILET PAPER and I have to eat PRINGLES for dinner and my leg hurts and I’m sick of being a stinking CRIPPLE!! And so after about 45 minutes I stand up and announce that I don’t care, I’m going to the store myself! But DJ stops me and Megan notices me now that I’m standing and they sit the old crank back into her plastic deck chair and go to the store. A few minutes later they come back and I can see that what they are carrying looks much more like plastic Tampico bottles than Prestige bottles... The store is out.

My head threatens to spin off my body because I’m just not sure what I’m going to do with myself now!! I think at the back of my mind, over anything and everything else, I feel the most upset that I don’t even have my health anymore. The infection in my body has taken such a physical, mental, and even a steep emotional toll. I just want to help, that’s what I came here to do. But now I know that I'm more of a burden than anything else. But then, in the middle of my spiral, its almost like someone taps me on the shoulder and says, “Look around you.”

I look around and see this BEAUTIFUL house that we are SO lucky to have found because God told us to talk to some random guy that we ran past one day. We have electricity and internet. I have a shower to look forward to that I don’t have go outside and draw out of the well first. The toilets flush and water comes out of the sinks. I have a bed to sleep in and decent clothes to wear. Maybe I didn’t have awesome choices for dinner, but I ate; and by golly, we did remember to bring the drinking water! And then I was reminded that this is for ONE night only. The other things will come with the other loads.

I feel very humbled. And a little ashamed.
And then at peace knowing that I am loved and provided for by a God who gives us our daily bread. He knows what I need even before I ask him. He knows what I need better than I do myself. And he graciously gives, and gives, and gives.

The Haitian people don’t have very much; next to nothing really. It was hard for me to grasp how much they don’t have coming from my world of excess. But they are so incredibly happy, they are so incredibly rich in spirit. Especially the children we work with who are always playing and laughing. They melt my heart when they wrap their arms around my legs, smile up at me and shower me with hugs and laughter. And I’m always taken aback by how thankful everyone is. They’re so quick to thank us for teaching them, playing with them, or even taking time to sit and talk with them. The people I've met aren’t driven by their desire to get, get, get.

It magnifies for me just how unhappy I am with our materialistic culture in the US. It's sad to watch all of the things that are sacrificed in favor of money and a bunch of stuff that isn't going to last and can't go with you when you die. So many expend their time and energy to make more money in order to buy more things that they believe are going to make life better. You really have to ask, better in what sense? In many ways, life in the US is so much better than in Haiti. But then, in so many ways, it really isn't.

And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world, but lose your own soul? (Mark 8:36)

Jacmel

Last week the builder for our school, Kyle, flew in from LA so Megan and I went into PAP to pick him up. We then proceeded to spend the week running around measuring land, looking at other schools, bugging Kyle while he drew plans, meeting with Haitian builders, etc. On Wednesday, the opportunity presented itself to go to Jacmel with two awesome doctors that had also been staying with us that week. Jacmel is on the other side of some mountains on the south shore of the island and has beautiful beaches. Vacation!

So on Wednesday morning the car we’ve hired pulls up and its this very nice Toyota truck. However, it soon becomes clear that we will not be fitting in there comfortably. Kyle and the driver sit in the front while Megan, Ritha, Amelia, and I pile into the backseat with Gabriel on top. Megan and I take turns leaning forward so the other person can have some breathing room for a few minutes. The ride isn’t so bad at first… but then we hit the mountains. Oh and let me fill you in on some Haitian driving rules: 1) Drive really fast. 2) Take up as much of the road as possible. 3) Play chicken with other drivers. Play to win. 4) Honk constantly. So this road is really nice in terms of being paved and the view is absolutely gorgeous, but I soon realize that I am getting a bit carsick. I try to just lean back, take in lots of fresh air, and tell myself that I’m totally fine and I’m not going to barf all over these nice people and this nice truck. Gabriel must not be as good at talking himself out of it though because he beats me to it and starts barfing. Megan catches some of it in her hand and asks if he’s finished. He nods… and then projectile vomits onto Amelia. The driver pulls over and I hop right on out of that car to avoid whiffing any vomit and starting a domino effect. We quickly clean up the situation and are back winding around curves and riding the brakes.

When we finally get to our hotel in Jacmel, I am SHOCKED, pleasantly, to see the accommodation. Its like we’re in Florida or something. Our room is air conditioned, you can flush the toilet paper, and we have an absolutely beautiful view of the pool and Caribbean. For lunch, and every meal thereafter in Jacmel, Megan and I eat cheese sandwiches. I think I had forgotten what cheese tastes like. Then I remembered, cheese is REALLY good. The drinks at this place were also amazing; they blend all the fruit up right there in front of you. So fresh!

After basking in the glow of cheese and tropical drinks, Megan and Gabriel go to the room for naptime while Kyle and me go scope out the beach. We climb a very long set of stairs down the side of the mountain, hop a very large gate, and then come upon our first beach. It looks nice but is covered in boats that smell like dead fish, so we decide to keep going. After walking through some corn fields, dodging a couple of motorcycles, and passing some small beaches that aren’t good for swimming, we come upon a beautiful beach dotted with people swimming and sunning. I immediately swim out and start floating around on the waves while Kyle talks to some of the Haitian guys. The day is stunning and perfect.

After a while, I swim in and sit on the beach. A Haitian comes up to me, I think he said his name is John Ronald, and starts talking to me in decent English. Of course question number 3 or 4 that he asks me is if I have a boyfriend. I say yes, because I made the mistake of saying no too many times, and he proceeds to ask me if I love my boyfriend etc. Then he points at Kyle who is still out swimming and asks if he is my boyfriend. I say no. Well JR insists that he is my boyfriend, and I tell him that I’m pretty sure Kyle is not my boyfriend. But then JR is like, “Ha, you lie! He told me he was your boyfriend!” So then I’m like, “Oohhh yea! You’re right, he totally IS my boyfriend. Haha…” In my head I am dying laughing because now I look like the worst girlfriend ever. Thank you sweet Kyle for trying to help me out with my frequent marriage proposal problem!

Later, we go back up to the pool where we have a delicious dinner of cheese sandwiches and lounge until well after dark. When we go to bed, I am reminded how awesome it is to sleep in air conditioning. We get up the next morning, have some beach time and cheese sandwiches before getting a car back to Gressier. I am feeling a bit of a post vacation slump.

The next morning we have a meeting with Thorsten, the awesome German guy from whom we are subletting our new house (the one we found on the run), to discuss the terms of our sublease. Megan, Kyle, and I head over there, Megan with her VIA in hand (VIA is Starbucks instant coffee that she is a huge fan of). Thorsten welcomes us in and offers us drinks from his mini beverage fridge: water, juice, tequila, something else, or VIA. I take a water and Kyle says he’ll have a VIA. Thorsten goes to the fridge and grabs a water and two Prestige beers. Oops, turns out we couldn’t understand the German accent and he was actually saying beer, not VIA. Hahahah, so it’s barely 9am and Kyle is having beer for breakfast along with Thorsten.

All the while this is going on, I notice this bump on my leg that looks like just another bug bite. One thing that has REALLY annoyed me here is that I have some new awful thing crop up on my skin every few days so I don’t think much of it. But after a few days it just keeps getting more red and puffy and painful. I figure its a spider bite and try to use the iphone to google pictures of spider bites. One of them looks like what I have, so I figure that’s a solid diagnoses. Two days ago it gets to the point where I don’t want to go anywhere and stay at home with Gabriel while everyone else goes into PAP to take Kyle to the airport and make a Delimart run. I start feeling pretty sick and so that evening we call Thorsten and ask him to call his doctor neighbor to see if he would take a look at me that evening. Thorsten comes to pick Megan and I up in his very nice truck (felt like I was in America while in that car… I think it had satellite radio) with the doctor and we go back to his house to have it looked at.

The doctor pokes it for a little while and asks me if it hurts, which yes, it does VERY much. And he’s like, “Mhmm. Yes, well, you have an abscess. You need to REST and if you walk around, you need a crutch.” And I’m thinking, “Where in the heck am I gonna get a crutch??” So he gives me meds and in a week he wants to cut it open and drain it. Should be exciting. So I’m just laying around sleeping a lot and being generally worthless and annoying to everyone because I can’t help out with stuff. Its been pretty miserable. Today it looked a little better, I think some of the swelling may have gone down. But yea, its been really humbling not being very mobile and hurting all the time. It makes me so, so, so thankful for the fact that I’m generally healthy and can walk around pain free! Add it to the list of things I take for granted, which seems to grow everyday here.

The Mango Curry Bomb

On Saturday, Megan and I just so happen to be having a bad day; the WORST day. I can’t even begin to list off to you the things going wrong, I don’t even want to try. So anyway, at the end of the day when I figure things aren’t going to get any worse, we go for our evening run. We run to the sea and are doing a great job at blowing off steam and trying to just put the day behind us. When we get home, however, we run into that darn group of boys that is ALWAYS outside our gate loitering. They’re generally out there to yell at me when I throw Gabriel’s poopy diapers and other sorts of trash into our burn pile across from our gate. They yell in silly tones, “cholera!” and the other day they called me diaper girl, which I did not appreciate. And today they are taunting us and calling us names worse than usual. Totally not a good day for this, dudes!

I yell at them in English (you know, because that’s what I’m fluent in and all), “Haven’t you people ever heard of LOITERING!?! Its ILLEGAL!!” (although loitering totally doesn’t exist as a word in Creole) and head in the gate. Megan, who can actually understand what these guys are saying, instead walks up to one of them and starts going off on him in Creole. Don’t ask me what they were saying, but I watch as these two are going at it, slightly lost, and slightly amused at the whole ordeal. Then she turns around to come inside with me.

And then we begin scheming. I suggest that we throw a poopy diaper onto the concrete slab outside our gate so that way they won’t gather there anymore, because who wants to hang out around a poopy diaper anyway. Especially an infamous Gabriel poopy diaper, aka mango curry (because its orange and runny 99% of the time…)?? So she grabs a poopy diaper and hands it to me, then we run outside and out the gate and I slap that bad boy out onto the slab. Commence the poop hitting the fan! (So to speak.)

When the loiterers see it, they get super upset and decide to start dumping trash from our burn pile onto our front gate slab!! And this particularly “bright” individual who lives in the tent in our front yard decides to run up to the gate, open it, and start yelling, “Megans! Megans! What do we do? Ahhg!” which gives them the perfect opportunity to start dumping trash INSIDE our gate. So we’re like, “GET INSIDE AND SHUT THE GATE!” Which he finally does. And then the people inside our gate, the tent people in our front yard, start going crazy on us. They really start raising cane about us dumping our trash across the road and we’re really wondering what the heck we should do at this point. I’m feeling a bit panicky, expecting an angry mob to bust down our gate at any second and wring my neck.

We sit at the dinner table, eating our beans and rice by candle light, discussing the ridiculousness that has just ensued. Thank goodness Toshi is there with us, a good Haitian friend of ours from PAP. Megan asks her if we should go ahead and apologize to the people out front and although she thinks they’re really crazy, she also thinks apologizing is a good idea. She agrees to translate and we tuck our tails and go over to the front of the house to being the apology. The dialogue is long and in Creole, but Toshi translates for me as I say, “I’m sorry we put our trash across the road, we really don’t know where the heck else to put it.” Toshi cleans up the presentation a bit for me, thank goodness. Finally, like 30 minutes later, Toshi and Megan tell me that things are resolved enough and we go back to the dinner table to finish up our rice and beans. Megan decides that tomorrow we also have to apologize to the loiterers for yelling at them. I secretly think to myself that the loiterers deserved to be yelled at run off by poopy diapers and that Megan has a stinking heart of gold. But I also know that this was a bit ridiculous and feel bad about the diaper and... she’s ultimately right.

So the next morning Megan goes to apologize to them. She had a dream about one of them in particular and that just so happened to be the one she runs into in the morning. She tells him that we don’t appreciate their behavior, but we’re sorry etc. etc. And wonder of wonders, he cuts her off and begins apologizing to her for everything. He says that he could tell we were in a bad mood and that they should have left us alone. Woah. Thennnn, a little later she goes to find the ringleader of the little gang of loiterers and finds out that he has a wife and a 9 mo old baby at home! It all makes sense now as to why he is scared of cholera; a baby can die of cholera in like 16 hours. He just approached it in such a joking manner the entire time, we had no idea he was seriously afraid. So she apologizes to him and explains that if he or anyone else around happened to get cholera, she has enough medicine to treat 100 people and that he should come to her first. His demeanor instantly changes and he also apologizes for everything that the loiterers have been up to! If you knew this guy, you would know how big this is. Talk about God taking our stupid actions and making the best of a bad situation!

Now we feel better than ever about our neighbors because we know this little group is on the lookout for us. This has also opened up the door for us to give them job opportunities and get to know them better. Not to mention, it makes for a pretty hilarious story. I’ve cracked up through most of the last 20 minutes...winning.

Run to the Water (How We Found Our New House)

Megan and I always have the best of intentions to exercise, but that sort of falls by the wayside a lot. Today (Thursday), we finally get our act together, lace up our tennis shoes, and head out for a run. We really aren’t certain that we’ll be able to make it to the end of the road as neither one of us have run in ages, but we decide to head for the top of the mountain where the land for the new school is.

I talked to one of my Haitian friends last week about running, asking if they like to run and whatnot. Basically, they do not. The idea of running for fun/exercise is foreign here and they’re all really fit anyway so it just doesn’t happen. The two white chicks look extra ridiculous to the neighborhood today as we run by in work out gear, sweating buckets, and turning red. (Sometimes I like to break out in a chant of WHITE CHICKS! WHITE CHICKS! Because I think that’s really funny.)

We somehow manage to actually make it up the mountain without stopping. Well, ok, we stopped once when we passed this big group of people because we were a little embarrassed. But anyway, from the top of the mountain you get a beautiful view of the Caribbean and it just looks extra beautiful today. I spot this road down on the other side of the mountain that looks like it leads right up to the shore and I ask Megan how she feels about a little exploratory adventure run. She, of course, thinks that’s a great idea so we take off down the far side of the mountain.

At some point, while picking our way through people’s backyards and stuff, a little boy with beautiful features and the most precious smile starts running behind us. It isn’t long before we’ve made it across the highway and are basically crawling up the last steep hill that separates us from the water, all the while greeting the fine Haitian folks who think we look ridiculous (which we do). We make it down the other side and find this path that looks promising to take us to the water. The kid is still with us although he’s gone the entire distance in a pair of rubber Walmart sandal things. So we decide he’s cool enough to hang out with us and ask his name. It’s Bebeson. Cute, right? So Bebeson, Megan, and I run the last bit down this trail and find a BEAUTIFUL beach. The gravelly shore extends out from the marsh into the Caribbean and we walk around picking up shells and little crabs. It rained earlier in the afternoon so its clear enough now to see the big island off in the distance very well and everything is bathed in various shades of a peaceful blue. It is magical.

After we finish gawking at all the beauty of this lovely beach we turn around to head home. On the way back we look around at different houses. Megan has been looking for a new place to rent here in Gressier for several reasons, but hasn’t found anything yet. We make it back to our side of the highway and when we get halfway up, we run into this group of guys who are taking down a big house that was severely damaged during the earthquake. One man dressed in blue jeans and a polo seems to be in charge and I'm like, "That guy looks like he would know where we could find a rental." Someone calls him away at that moment and we turn to leave, but I tell her that I have this feeling she should really talk to him. We wait for a minute and then walk over to strike up a conversation.

I say the 3 or so Creole phrases that I know and then get quiet and let them talk. Turns out he has 2 properties to rent and he asked us if we’d like to go see them. Of course we do! The first one is very nice but is on the highway, so its rejected. The second house we go to is AWESOME. Its this big white house that these German doctors have been staying in and, without boring you with details, lets just say its perfect!! Megan has seen this place many times before and said she always thought it was nice and wanted to see it. That was such a cool encounter randomly asking this man on the side of the mountain if he knew of any places to rent! (cough, Holy Spirit)

The German doctor isn’t leaving until September, but he said he is willing to let us sublet the bottom part of the house. The only problem is that its massively expensive. We’re praying that somehow we’ll get a more reasonable price or find a way to pay for it. Preferably by the end of the month…. Or like now.

Anyway, in summary: great run, magic beach, cool random encounter, awesome day.