Staycation

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness this morning as the pig family grunts next door when I realize that something is not quite right. I feel a little nauseous, but I can’t really tell whether its real or if I’m dreaming. A few minutes later I decide I should probably fully wake up and determine which is the case. Upon doing so, I realize that I really need to barf, in real life. I go into our bathroom and, ya know, but then feel a gurgle in my stomach and remember we don’t have toilet paper up here… so in search of paper and a little more privacy I race downstairs into our old bathroom. I would be ok with going into detail with what happens next but I’m not entirely sure of who you are and your comfort level with this so we’ll just suffice it to say that while on the potty I have to reach for the shower bucket to catch what is coming from my face. Wow, a bonafide double whammy. What the heck did I eat?!

So anyway, I slept a lot today and ate some crackers. Its evening and I’m feeling a lot better now. I just tried some carrots and fruit snacks with no negative results, so that’s optimistic. But I’m still sitting around the house and am bored. I figure it’s a great time for a blog post.

The last couple of days have been real treats. The big team from BR left early early Tuesday morning so we decide that Tuesday and Wednesday shall be our weekend as we worked straight through the real one. Megan, Josh, Wesley, and I go into town for the day for a bit of a staycation. Its only been, oh like 3 and a half weeks since we’ve gone to the grocery store as Josh has been away. Wesley takes us to this restaurant called Magdoo’s. I am skeptical of this place because of the name that I find to be a funny combination of Skip-Do (Megan and mine’s fave card game) and McDonalds. Turns out Magdoo’s is fabulous. So fabulous that I would like it in America. Then we go to a grocery store that I have never been to before – Giant. Or BigGigantic as I like to call it. They have a stinkin’ car garage and deli at BG! I get a quarter pound of deli-sliced turkey as I have been dreaming about turkey sandwiches on and off since arriving here. Yum. After the turkey victory, I spend most of my time trying not to cry about the prices. A box of Life costs something like $8, wahhh. So I settle for some very, very off brand honey nut O’s. I also buy a can of green beans, skim milk, and some cheese. Pretty exciting stuff there. Following BG, we head to this place called the View. It has a great view (go figure) of PAP, Petionville and nearby towns surrounding the bay. And, more importantly, it has sushi. Yep, I totally forgot where I was for awhile. Magnificent.

The car trip home is fun thanks to listening to “Call Me Maybe” for the 50^th time on this cool CD I made for us and two anonymous people in the car both having ridiculous gas. I spend half the time with my head out the window because the stench of Haiti smells better than what is going on in our car. There must have been a secret ingredient of beans or something in the sushi. Good times J

Yesterday, the whole team took a trip to Taino beach (the pretty, fantastic, totes beautiful beach that I went to over Christmas). It was magic, as usual. God truly gave me a day of rest. At one point, the combination of watching Megan journal, Wesley read Rohr, the jam box playing Radiohead, and the fantastic palm canopy above me sent me deep into a moment of introspection and reflection. It is the first time in a very long time I can actually remember truly relaxing and mediating on my own thoughts.

Then I decided to go for a snorkel. I have yet to snorkel in Haiti because I’m a bit of a snorkeling snob and didn’t think Haiti would have much to offer. However, right off the beach at Taino there is a 20-30 ft high reef with gorgeous fish! I felt like I was swimming in God’s aquarium and he was right there with me, happy to be with his kid enjoying his creation.

I spend a lot of time in the tension between recognizing and being sensitive to the suffering and hardship around me versus enjoying the good and beautiful things around me. It’s a delicate balance for me, especially in Haiti. There is suffering absolutely everywhere and its easy to get caught up in it and feel overwhelmed. But then sometimes, I numb myself to the jarring stuff and focus solely on the good. It is difficult to sit with two and balance them. Lately, I have been caught up in the dark, bad, and difficult. So I was very thankful for a day to truly relax and just be with the Lord, who is so good, in his beautiful creation.

So now I just have to finish kicking this stomach bug and it’ll be back to work tomorrow!

Where there is darkness...

Haiti is hard. I’ve known that. Everyone knows that the minute they step off of the plane in PAP and drive through the streets filled with chaos, burning trash, starving dogs, and sick children. The poverty and filth that you see and smell and hear are gripping. It is shocking and unreal. But since I got here about three weeks ago, the Lord has been opening my eyes to difficulty and poverty that you don’t see, smell, or hear. He has been revealing to me the dark spiritual oppression gripping this place.

Even having been here all of last summer and again in December, it wasn’t something I recognized, or was forced to recognize, all that often. But this year, it has been around every corner. My Haitian friends have been talking to me more and more about voodoo. I was making some joke about the “zombie apocalypse” happening in the States the other day and one of my friends got very serious and told me about how zombies are a big part of voodoo. Her own mother was killed because of some voodoo rite that I don’t understand. Voodoo ceremonies combine all sorts of elements of spirit worship, dark magic, possession, and sacrificing. And the religion is so blended with Christianity here, its just confusing. In this darkness, confusion and fear reign.

I had no idea just how many people practice voodoo. The CIA estimates that at least 50% of the population practices, but my friends tell me it is much more of the country. Coming from New Orleans where voodoo amounts to a kitschy way to make money off of tourists and an arena football team, I had no idea how real it is here. How very real the power is that it has over people’s lives. The stories my friends tell me of the evil they’ve personally witnessed because of voodoo are saddening and distressing. The darkness is so deep.

But it doesn’t just stop at stories; the team has personally been confronted with the ugly grip of voodoo several times recently. The man that I wrote about last week in "This is Haiti" was one stark example of the havoc generational bondage to spirit worship and oppression wreak on life.

While up on the mountain this week, on the land Respire is preparing to buy, we started to notice evidence of voodoo ceremonies – certain drawings etched into the ground, stones arranged in circles, burn marks on trees. Two nights ago, Josh drove us and the interns up to the land to pray over it. As we got out of the truck and began to walk, a man came up to us wearing a traditional African-looking robe. He spoke in Creole, then began speaking in English saying, “We are busy. You need to leave. We are busy.” Megan said something along the lines of, “Oh… Ok?” Then he told us we could come back in 30 minutes. Instead of picking a fight with a voodoo priest whose ceremony we just interrupted, the group walked the short distance to our land. As we turned to walk, I heard the sharp, unmistakable cry of an animal dying; a sacrifice.

We spent a good time after that praying over the land together, singing songs, and worshipping God - the sovereign Lord who already owns that land and is gracious enough to let us and anybody else stand upon it. The Lord who casts out all fear, dispels lies, speaks clarity into confusion, and overcomes all darkness with his light. In the presence of his Spirit on that mountain, I could rest and rejoice knowing that he is already victorious over whatever evil was happening next to us. And we were humbled by the knowledge that God loves even people calling upon other names and spirits as much as he loves us who call upon his name. And he calls us to love them as well. There is no greater weapon to wield against the enemy than Love.

Tonight, we went back to the land to pray along with the 19-person team in from Baton Rouge. Shortly after we got to the top and began to worship, people arrived to begin another voodoo ceremony. Wadley spoke with them to find out a little more about what they are up to and share with them why we were there. One of the men asked to meet with Wadley again to talk more. I’m eager for this opportunity for Wadley to speak truth and love to him.

Typically, ceremonies such as these are carried out only every so often; not as frequently as what has been going on atop Bellevue Mountain. My very dear friend Wadley, a translator for Respire and probably one of the greatest men I know, explained that the reason they are having to come back over and over again is because what they are trying to do is not working. And we do not have to be scared of them, or what they are trying to accomplish, or of any of the dark powers in this world; because, as John writes, “You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4).

I grieve the spiritual oppression of these people and the darkness in this land. The same darkness that covers any place in this world where people worship and run after things that are not God and not of God, whatever that looks like - spirits, power, wealth (cough, America), romance, anything. It only ends in emptiness and destruction. But praise God that no one is too far away, too far gone, to ever turn and receive redemption!

Where dark forces are at work, God is even more so, redeeming and reclaiming his people. Where sin increased, Grace increased all the more (Romans 5:20). This is the story of Respire Haiti. This is the story of God, in his great power, entering into the bleakest situations and bringing together some unlikely characters to bring forth hope, freedom, and LIFE. This is the story of the kingdom of God.

Please join us in praying against the strongholds of the enemy and for true FREEDOM for the people of Haiti. 

“The weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds.” 2 Corinthians 10:4

Accidents and Adventures with Auntie Katine

Josh came back from the states this morning, YAY! Everyone at the house is very excited to see him. But just as soon as he gets in, he and Megan, with Jessica and Esther in tow, have to turn around and go back into PAP to meet the giaganto team that is coming in today. I graciously (sarcasm) offer to stay behind and get Michaelle from school. I need go up the mountain anyway and check on some construction stuff for Megan and Kyle. (Oh and I don't want the black boogers that always follow my trips into town...) We’re about halfway through Kyle’s month long trip back to the states and just wish he would come back already because Megan and I are not exactly…er… construction experts. So they take off and I try to get a little work done. Instead of working however, I go over to the intern house and goof around for half an hour or so before going up the mountain with Wesley. Random side note, I saw a snake slither across the road on the way up, ew.

I check out the construction situation and pick up Micha. Then we start back towards the house flanked by two other boys from the school. Micha runs down the mountain, the boys with her, and I think its cute how they’re playing together. That child is so fast she can outrun the boys. She is SUCH an athlete, we’re marveling about it all the time. Megan wants to start a Respire softball team so Micha can put that incredible arm to use. I, of course, want a basketball team though so she can be the star point guard.

Anyway, we soon catch back up to the kiddos and I can tell this isn’t so much a playful/fun interaction anymore. They shove each other a little bit and I yell at them to stop. The boys keep talking in Creole in a tone I don’t like. But I’m paralyzed to do anything about it because I don’t know what they’re saying. It gives me such a sinking, awful feeling. All I can do is tell Micha I’m sorry that I don’t know how to defend her in Creole, sandwich myself between her and the boys, and just keep walking. We get to the highway and she grabs my hand to cross. I squeeze it tight. When we make it back onto our street, I can tell she’s crestfallen. I try to talk to her about lunch, but her little voice is shakey and sad and I can’t help but pick her up and carry her the rest of the way home because it makes me want to cry. We talk about what just happened and I tell her not to worry. We can go home and get lunch and play or rest or whatever she wants to do. And that’s exactly what we do.

Once home, we lay on the bed and wipe down our faces with some excellent “Say Yes to Cucumbers” wipes that someone left behind. Micha then lets me know that she would like cornflakes for lunch. Ew. But alright, cornflakes it is! She says she can make it herself so I let her go right ahead. She puts the cereal in a bowl, dumps milk powder on it, and THEN pumps water into the bowl. Not the traditional order, but hey… We manage to get it to a decent-ish consistency and she finishes the whole bowl just as I find leftover rice and beans in the fridge. I know what I’m having for lunch! She of course wants some too, so I heat it up and make plates for her, me, and Baby J. OMG I think this is my first mention of Baby J. His actual name is Jesulo and he is the COOLEST baby. Megan took in he and his mother, Darleen about a month ago. He was extremely sick and malnourished and they had nowhere else to go. But now he is healthy and beautiful and SUCH a happy little toddler. I love this kid.

Baby J and I playing pretty princesses!

So the three of us go out to the front balcony to have lunch. Micha and I spend half of our lunch trying to coax Baby J into sitting down and eating his r&b, but he is just interested in doing so many other things. Finally, he squats into a little perch (which is totally a normal way for a kid to sit here) and looks like he’s about to eat. Oh, but instead of eating, he just takes a big tinkle right there on the balcony!! “Katine! BABY J IS PEE-PEEING!” Yells Micha. I freak out and then we both erupt in laughter. Micha runs to the sliding door and closes it to quarantine the little stinker outside while I pull off his pee-pee undies. (I neglected to mention that this is the SECOND time he peed on the floor today. Earlier he took a tinkle in Megan’s room right next to the bed…) I throw down his wet britches and run inside to grab Wet-Ones and start wiping him down. Then I grab his undies and run out to the back balcony where Darleen is doing laundry in the yard. Micha yells down to her that Baby J just peed and needs his britches cleaned. So Darleen strolls over and I toss them down to her. She casually catches his pee-pee britches in her hand like it ain’t no thing and brings them over to wash. I try not to die laughing so I can grab the necessary supplies to clean up the puddle. Micha, the other half of operation clean-the-pee-pee takes Baby J downstairs while I soak up his pee in some napkins, half laughing and half gagging. This is so gross; ugh, children. A Clorox wipe finishes the job and Micha and I get back to our nice r&b lunch.

Michaelle and I at the zoo party. 

I really enjoy spending time with Micha. Her English is so good now that we can actually TALK to each other. Like really talk. After lunch we do some coloring and she teaches me the names of fruit in Creole. Then, unfortunately, I have to tear myself away and actually get some work done. I almost completely finish the revisions to my proposal, but we haven’t had power in 2 days so my computer dies. (Luckily power finally came on later in the evening.) I really enjoyed my afternoon with Micha though. She is a special kid and I am very proud to be her (pseudo) aunt.

The other HUGE event of the day was that the piece of wood that has been stuck inside my toe since my December trip (see blog entitled “Well That was Fast”) and has been slowly surfacing ever since finally came out this evening!! We were up worshipping on the mountain with the team when I got a little distracted for a moment picking at my toe... and, low and behold, it spit out this huge splinter! Man, that sucker took its dear sweet time exiting my body. I put it into a necklace that Sophie’s artisans made so that I can keep it forever. I just feel it’s a sentimental piece of memorabilia - a little piece of Haiti I carried around with me in Austin that just couldn’t come out until I made it back to the island. Special, no?

My Special Splinter displayed on this love necklace by Haiti's Jewels.
(Good press, eh Sophie?)

TIH

Well, there's just nothing to call this blog except for TIH (This is Haiti) - our favorite little phrase that explains all the CRAZY that goes on here and simply can't be explained any other way. 

On Saturday, I wake up and spend a little more time with these two guys, Richard and Chris, who have been staying with us this week from an organization called Loving Orphans Global (website!). They were fantastic and had such full, loving hearts. I learned a lot from them and am grateful that God crossed our paths… And that they were here for our Zoo To Do party on Friday night!  As the official fun coordinator (I think I’m about to start calling myself the cruise director) I’m planning to keep it real FUN with some theme parties this summer. I was extremely pleased with the creativity and effort put into the animal costumes for the second bash. Best of Party goes to intern Joel who dressed up as a gorilla by covering himself head-to-toe in mud. SO good. Bravo!

Anyway, Chris and Richard leave, which is a bit of a bummer because they are so cool. I spend half the afternoon working and half the afternoon goofing off because its Saturday and that’s what the weekend is for, right? Come evening, I go for a walk with sweet intern, Hannah. We walk up to the top of a hill to a slab (earthquake leftovers) where I’ve gone in the past to watch the sun set over the Caribbean. As we walk out on the slab, I notice a new house just beyond it and see a girl playing in the backyard. She stops, gives us a puh-recious smile, and we exchange greetings before Hannah and I walk over to sit and look at the water. But before we can get in much of a chat, the little girl appears on the slab accompanied by her father. They come over and start talking to us. Hannah and I are working hard to combine our meager Creole powers to make this work, but after a few sentences, we just plumb run out of things to say. Yet the man and little girl keep staring at us and smiling; beautiful smiles. We look at each other like, “Okayyy, this is a little awkward?” kind of thinking they would go home. But they don’t. And we can’t help but smile back at them. Next thing you know, the man excitedly asks us if we would like to come over to their house and meet his wife. Of course we would like to meet your wife! So we walk the short distance home with them.

His wife greets us at the door and is also adorable and pregnant. We use our mediocre language skills to figure out that she’s six months along. I can’t help but rub her stomach and engage in some embarrassing baby talk. They have a dog named Bubby out in front of their door. He’s a bit forlorn looking, but of course I can’t help but pet him and engage in some more embarrassing baby talk with the family pet. Next thing you know, they’ve invited us into their home and are showing us wedding albums and all sorts of family photos. We are obviously having a blast.

As it begins to get dark, I tell them that we better get going. The man and precious little girl walk us out. There’s another dog at their gate which the man points out who is also a pet. I assume its friendly like Bubby and reach down to pet it. As I do so, the man grabs my hand just as the vicious thing tries to bite my hand off! I have a mini heart attack and thank him profusely for saving my hand. We’re now best friends for life. (Sorry mom, promise I don’t pet strange dogs in third world countries like, ever.) Hannah and I walk back down the hill so grateful for getting to meet and hang out with this loving family; a solid, happy family in the midst of so many broken ones. What a blessing.

When we get home, Tachi (my Haitian best friend/house mom for those who may just be tuning in) asks if I want to go down to the corner store and meet up with Bernard and his brother to hang out. I, of course, do. So Tachi and I set off along with another friend, Wesley, who is staying with us for a few weeks.  We get to the place, which is on the national highway, and grab a couple of Prestige. Bernard’s brother, Benoit, comes up and just after I greet him, we hear a sound… like something skidding over gravel. We both look over just in time to see a motorcycle sliding at a high speed on its side down the highway.

I lose my breath.

A figure tumbles along the pavement then does some sort of tuck and roll, lands on his feet, and stumbles off to the side of the road. I sharply inhale. Try to process what I just saw. Then I exclaim to Benoit, “Its ok! He got up.” Benoit replies to me, “But the other one didn’t…” And then I see him, crumpled up in the road. My head spins. I ask Benoit, “What do we do?? Is there anything we can do?” You can’t just dial 911 in Haiti and wait for the EMS to show up, there is no such thing. A crowd gathers around the man and I walk over to him as well. I figure that if he has any wounds that need attention, I can run up the road to our clinic and get supplies to clean them up at the very least. I get to a gap in the crowd with Benoit on my heels. I stand over the man, lying there on the road. Is he dead? No, he’s still breathing. I don’t see any visible wounds, but he’s completely dazed, not moving, and bleeding from the mouth, which gives me an ominous feeling. I don’t know what to do. I walk back across the road.

I walk up to Tachi just as Megan calls her and asks for me; I take the phone. I hear a note of panic in her voice as she asks me to come back to the intern house as soon as I can. A man that two of our interns met a couple of days ago as he was reportedly on the way to hang himself has come to the house. He’s acting in a very peculiar manner. He’s complaining of voices, demons telling him what to do. I tell her about the accident we just witnessed. Knowing there’s nothing I can do here, I tell her we’ll be on our way home immediately. We turn to go, and as we walk back down the highway, I throw up muddled prayers from a heart in shock – for what I’m walking away from and what I’m walking into. I feel tears shoot into my eyes and I want to lose it right there on the road. But in another instance, they’re gone. I turn back towards the accident and see a vehicle owned by a non-profit loading the man into their car. They speed off towards Leogane, presumably to the Doctors Without Boarders clinic there where you can get medical attention at this hour. Hallelujah. God picks me up and prepares me for what is next…

I get back to the house and join the rest of the team. We spend the night praying over this man. We are completely humbled before the Lord, not knowing what else to do but seek him and his Spirit. For where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Cor 3:17). The spiritual oppression of this man was so tangible, but so was the power of the name of Jesus, driving back the darkness. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s a soul-rattling battle. But one that we know Christ has already won. This isn’t a one night only thing. We will continue to walk with this man, along with the church here in Gressier, through his trials, struggles, addictions – in love and community.

Sunday is a wonderful Sabbath following the chaos of Saturday. Megan and I go up the mountain and spend the morning in prayer, scripture, and fruitful discussion. Its cloudy and grey out. I don’t sweat the ENTIRE day and take a fat nap in the afternoon. Rainy days in Haiti are the cats meow. I’ve had my hair down for almost a full 28 hours or something like that – unheard of.

Today I had the most productive day I’ve had yet since arriving here. I had another great meeting with Bernard and Wadley who will be my hands and feet for the study that will be conducted in October when the students start school again. They are intelligent, attentive, and best of all enthusiastic about this research. I am praising God for them – after months of hitting just about every wall possible with this project, somebody is making this process a little easier on me. And I am thankful for the way things worked out. I would be dying right now if I had gotten here and hit the ground running with this study, racing to finish it before this Wednesday when school gets out. It hurts my head to think about. So I won’t. God is sovereign. He knew. Amen.

Team of 19 people is coming in tomorrow. Hold onto your hats folks!

First Field Trip

Today was a very exciting day for Respire Haiti Christian School – the students went on their very first FIELD TRIP! It made me think back to when I was a kid in school, some of the most memorable days I had were field trips. And its so important for kids to get out and see their world. My mom shared some horrific story with me the other day about impoverished kids in north Baton Rouge, a place that is plagued with poverty and violence. A group working with youth there asked a group of about 40 kids or so to raise their hand if they have ever seen the Mississippi River (> 5 miles away). About 5 kids raised their hands. Five. That horrified me and made so much sense at the same time. You can’t be aware of what else there is, of what possibilities are out there, unless you go see! So needless to say, I was SO excited for this little trip.

So this morning the buses are supposed to pick us up at 10 am. They of course don’t show until 10:45 since we’re way on island time here. But by 11 we have 131 kids, 4 teachers, the director of discipline, the assistant principal, the principal and several white people chaperones piled onto two buses. Destination: the National Museum of Haiti in Port au Prince. I get on a normal looking old school bus then look over back up the mountain and realize the other bus is one of those party bus extended tap-tap things, hah. I am a bit jealous. Especially after I hear that something is wrong with this bus and we will have to stop in Carrefour and switch to a different bus… Hm, it seems quite possible this bus might explode in between here and there. Before we leave, the school disciplinarian (who wears these great Men in Black shades) leads the kids in a song and prayer. That makes me feel a little bit better about the defective bus trip. I keep praying for it not to explode anyway after this prayer is finished…

And off we go! Occasionally the other bus passes us and I hear loud dance music playing and see kids laughing and waving out the window at us – they’re totally having a party on the extended tap-tap party bus. Still a little jealous. Somewhere in Mariani we have to pull over and buy water for the driver to pour under the hood of the bus, presumably to keep it from exploding. One of the kids asks Megan where we are and when she replies, “Mariani,” the kid exclaims, “Oooh! Miami!” A little further down the road we get into Carrefour and shuffle all the kids out of the potentially explosive bus onto a white and blue school bus. We take off again at a much faster clip and end up in PAP in no time. Unfortunately, in the new bus I get stuck sitting in a seat directly behind the back wheel; and soon the incredibly bad roads mixed with the incredibly bad stench of Haiti and motor oil has me feeling a bit queasy. I apologize to the kid I’m sitting with and run up towards the front of the bus and squish into a seat with some girls who are probably wondering what they did to deserve having me come sit almost on top of them. But everyone is a good sport, I don’t barf, and we make it to the museum all in one piece!

Bernard and I in front of the entrance to the museum.

Once we get there, Megan goes in to pay for everyone and I potter about the street with some of the other adults. We’re on Champ de Mars: the big street with the palace, this funky monument that looks like a space ship, and other various government buildings. Great place for sight seeing. Its after noon and I figure now is a good time for some lunch so I pull out my granola bar. Many of the kids brought lunch from home as well and happily share their spaghetti, chicken, fired plantains, picklies, etc. with one another. I try to ask a kid if he’ll share one of his fried potatoes with me, and this creeps him out. So instead I walk over to Alex and bum some plantains off him that he just bought from a street vendor.

Finally the museum is ready for us! We commence the arduous task of making the kids line up two-by-two, Noah style!, in an attempt at a buddy system. We have everyone good to go and lined up outside the door waiting for another group to exit when the OCD museum security guard comes over and tells us to line up our pairs in height order. And he means EXACT height order. So we scramble the kids around and have everyone looking sharp in an ascending line. Then! Drum role please… We ENTER.

I run to the front of the line and lead them in because I’m probably more excited than half of them. The museum is actually much nicer than I expect inside with marble floors, nice lighting, and, get this, air conditioning. Several kids are very confused as to why its so cold in here and keep asking the chaperones. The OCD security guard catches up with us inside and literally grabs each child to line them up exactly as he sees fit. And after taking several minutes to do so, we are met by our lovely tour guide. She obviously speaks Creole to the kids and all of the plaques are in French, so I really don’t know what’s going on. I follow Bernard around and try to get him to summarize everything she is saying for me. Once I learn that the giant thing we’re standing in front of is actually the tomb of Toussaint L’overture and Jean Jacque Dessalines, I am SO excited! Apparently Haiti went over to France and had to ask for Toussaint’s bones back… and France was like, “Uh, sure. You can have him.” So now you can see his tomb at Haiti’s museum. COOL.

The museum tells the story of Haiti’s history. The exhibit following the tomb is of all sorts of artifacts from the Indians that inhabited Hispaniola before the Spanish showed up and wrecked everything. Speaking of Spaniards, the next exhibit was about Christopher Columbus, and get this yo, they had the ACTUAL anchor from the SANTA MARIA in the museum!! I flip out! THE Santa Maria, as in the Nina, the Pinta, and Santa Maria. (The Nina was always my favorite as a child because I thought it had the prettiest name). Next was an exhibit on the slave ships that brought over Africans to harvest sugar cane. Then came exhibits on the revolution. They had Petion’s (as in Petionville) drum on display, which I think is super cool but then learn it was his voodoo drum to summon spirits with. This creeps me out a little bit. They say the revolutionaries made a deal with the devil to gain Haiti’s independence. The country was founded on slavery and voodoo and you can still see the ugly scars of these things today – violence, cruelty, darkness, death, spiritual bondage. The nation’s dark history helps to make so much sense of its current situation. I am given so much to think about at the museum and learn a lot! And I have to say, the kids are so, so well behaved on this trip. We were all extremely proud of them!!

After our tour wraps up, we head back out to the street. Bernard, one of the interns Amanda, and I walk over to the palace to take some pictures while we wait for the other group to finish their tour. The palace is such an eerie reminder of the total destruction of the earthquake touching every part of this place from the bottom to the very top.

Once everyone is back on the street, we pile back into the buses. I make a beeline for the very front seat determined not to get carsick this time. I settle into my seat and before you know it, am totally passed out with my mouth open. Probably caught some flies and ate a lot of dust…  I wake up somewhere on the edge of PAP going into Carrefour to the sound of our driver obnoxiously blaring the horn which sounds like some big rig honking. We’ve gotten into some sort of traffic jam, big surprise (not). I look down and realize the bus horn sounds when he mashes these two bare-ended wires together that shoot sparks out when they touch. I stare at him doing this for awhile, totally entertained by the way people rig things up on cars here and the fact that he’s probably shocking himself every time he honks at someone. Oh Haiti.

We get home sometime later all in one piece, and by the grace of God, with no missing children! Woohoo! Respire Haiti Christian School’s first field trip was a smashing success indeed. 

Readjust

There comes a moment in every day when I think to myself, “MUST shower NOW or will not make it.”  That moment came early today. And after my luke-warm, trickle-when-necessary shower had taken off the caked on layers of dirt and sweat, I sat in front of two fans and let them cool/dry me off (because we finally got power after the sun set).  It was marvelous and I now feel ready to write.

Things have been going pretty smashingly here. I am really enjoying my time with Megan and the girls. Yesterday was some holiday. Megan kept saying it was Father’s Day, but Bernard said later is was God’s Day. Maybe it was God the Father’s Day or something… anyway the workers were off and school was out.  So after the AWESOME 147 Million Orphans team left yesterday (sadly), we declared a day of rest. What that ended up equaling was a huge dance party kicked off by a thriller lesson (since I just learned the dance on the cruise last week) followed by the creation of several excellent dance videos, including us doing The Wobble. That night, Megan and I enjoyed a YouTube binge that turned into us watching several episodes of TLC’s My Strange Addiction, featuring people addicted to eating nail polish, baby powder, and eating tape… Makes our life feel more normal I guess ha.

When I got in bed that night, I realized what the hardest thing has been for me to readjust to: sleeping in Haiti. Its 5 million degrees and the power was off so I had no fan; imagine trying to sleep in a puddle of your sweat. Then there are all the ridiculous neighborhood noises. Last night was real heavy on animal sounds: dogs howling everywhere, huge frogs, the family of pigs next door occasionally grunting obnoxiously, and after midnight the dumb/confused roosters start making horrific crowing sounds. There are some chickens that live in our garden and they sometimes wander into our backyard. So in the morning I heard COCKADOODLEDERRAhererrr in stereophonic sound. Really, it’s a nasty screech that doesn’t end well. Oh and a bug had gotten under my mosquito net and would occasionally buzz around my ear until I would start smacking the side of my head in hopes of killing it… I don’t think I got it. Then in the morning, the blinding, burning sun never fails to wake me, and cause me to reach for the nearest pillow, sheet, towel, etc. to put on my face to try and block it out. Sadly, I lost my cute little face mask from last year.  Oh well TIH, I adjusted last year and I will this year too. You just stop hearing it eventually and are so tired it doesn’t matter anyway. Otherwise I feel like I'm adjusting just fine. 

I taught my first adult English class of the year with Bernard today. A lot of my old students were there and it was GREAT to see them. The classes have become a lot more structured now and are pay-to-attend (very small fee) and the students are doing really well.  There are two sections; one for beginners and one for more advanced, which is marvelous. The two official teachers arrived late for the lessons today because JimmyNet was slow making copies (I think I may have mentioned before that JimmyNet is an internet café that has no internet. But Jimmy does have copy machines and printers and such. Well update: he moved to a new location now so I think mayyybe he has internet! I will have to inspect this soon.) So I knew that I needed to come up with something to entertain the students. Instead of making the crowded room play Simon Says as I normally would do, I had one of the interns, Joel dance for them. Joel is a hilarious and top-notch dancer and taught one of the brave student volunteers how to two-step, much to everyone’s delight. Then the lesson happened and it was great because I was able to do a little reverse learning of Creole. The students took a test that Bernard made up at the end of class. I looked over them and they did really well J My favorite question was the last one that instructed, “Talk about yourself. Use five lines.” I think my favorite response was something about “I’m 2 sisters. I’m 4 uncles…” But no really, most everyone did well! I’m excited to be working with these great students again in the beautiful new school. Man, it beats the heck outta trying to teach in that one room church building, aka people oven. I’ll try to post pictures as soon as I can!

Back on the Island

Helloooo from Haiti, or bon swa rather. Not too terribly much has gone on yet but I figured I’d get the ball rolling so you (mostly Grandma :) would know I got here safe and sound on Monday after a pleasantly uneventful trip. The miracles were starting early - it was the first time all of my flights have been on time in years. I just got back from a cruise to Central America the day before and while I planned for this cruise to be a time of rest and relaxation, in true Kathryn-form, I just had a lot of fun and didn’t sleep much. So I had this incredible sore throat for the trip.

In the Miami airport, I met up with two other girls who will be interning at Respire for the summer, Sam and Hannah. They probably thought I was quite strange because of the frog-man voice I get when I have a sore throat coupled with the fact that I was rapidly spooning miso soup into my mouth at 9 in the morning to soothe it. I’m such a star at first impressions.

We land in PAP and go through the janky airport to the board the bus that takes you to the shed where the luggage carousel is (but I did see construction work going on for the first time in the main building that had to be abandoned after the earthquake!). After I walk through customs, I immediately hear someone calling my name. I look over and there is our bodyguard from last summer working security at the airport! I am very excited to see a friend straight away. Megan and Josh are waiting for us in the truck and we get all the luggage inside unmolested by the dozens of guys outside the airport trying to carry your bags for you thanks to another friend of ours. And off we go to Gressier.

Maybe its just because I am feeling tired or sick, but I realize after we’re past Carrefour that I’m no longer glued to the window like I was my first trip. Haiti really is starting to feel so normal to me. It is SO nice to see everyone at the house again and the girls have grown up so much even in six months. They listen better, get along better, play more and whine less. And, get this, Michaelle can SPEAK ENGLISH! And Jessica can to a small extent as well. It’s a whole new world of being a quasi-auntie that I am loving!

When I get to the house there is a huge team there and tons of new interns. Oh and we now rent a house that backs up to our big white one and the two are connected by a beautiful garden path designed by our very own Kyle the Builder. I catch up with Bret, a friend from BR who is in with the team for a while, eat a delicious rice and bean dinner (commence the weight gain), and then take some Tylenol PM and knock out. And because I am sick and exhausted and feeling a bit overwhelmed by so many new people in my familiar environment, I sleep for about 13 hours. Kyle and Josh both fly out for the states while I’m snoozing; Josh returns in two weeks and Kyle will be gone until July. When I finally wake up for good the next afternoon, it is to tell the team goodbye and I no longer have a sore throat! Right as their school bus is pulling out, a short bus is pulling in. Another team is here.

The new team is only staying for two nights and its this group of five women from Tennessee representing an organization called 147 Million Orphans (147millionorphans.com). They are super cool and have been a great official first team to have – a bunch of loving, encouraging moms.

Me with the LOVELY ladies of 147 Million Orphans.

This afternoon, we go to an organization in a neighboring town today called My Life Speaks. They have a ton of cool things going on with the main focus of keeping families together. (Yay anti-orphanage approaches!) Their mom’s and babies program is in full swing while we’re there. A lot of moms from the village are in for a small medical clinic for their babies coupled with a health lesson, and some formula. Hannah puts a baby in my lap and I actually really take to this kid. I also have the song Miss New Booty stuck in my head, so I decide to call her Miss New Booty and proceed to rap to her. Hannah comes by later and says, “Most people sing lullabies to their babies…” Ha. Anyway, I’m excited to hear more about this organization in the future and to write a post about ALLLL the changes going on around here. Crazy! (as usual.)