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!