Transformation

One night, back in early June, Megan and I were in our usual spot - sitting out on the porch where you can catch a breeze - playing cards (Skip-Do/Bo obviously). I took a sip of my chilled drink, bugs swarmed around our porch light lit up with electricity, and music from my computer softly cut through the night. We were talking as Megan dealt another hand. She looked up at me, looked around where we were sitting and said, “Think about where we were this time last year.” ...Oh wow. This time last year we were at the old house in the pitch dark, huddled up in bed under our mosquito net, sweating half to death because our battery-powered fans were constantly out of batteries. There was probably a crying child in our room and we probably had no idea what we were doing; but one thing could be counted on, at some point the next day we would have to eat raman, a cliff bar, or if it was a good day, fake cheese and macaroni shells because that is all we had. We reminisced about life back in that other house and laughed. 

The first piece of land purchased by Respire, taken last June.

This trip down memory lane was just another moment in a long line of moments that hit me periodically throughout the summer; moments where I realized how our God is a transformative God. Looking around Bellvue Mountain, at Respire, the streets we walk down everyday, the people with whom we interact, in our very selves, the transformative work of God is clear and it is absolutely astounding.

The people cooker.

I think back to last year when Megan and I would walk with visitors up the back trail to the mountain. We would walk over to the tree and she would excitedly tell whoever it was that this is the land we bought and the site where the school was going to go! At that time, there were 100 students in the school meeting in the one room church (or people cooker as it seems most days). It was a great start, but man was it chaotic trying to teach 100 kids all sorts of different things in ONE very hot, noisy, crowded room. But now there is a school - the 6 classroom building was opened in January and the new 4 classroom kindergarten will be all ready to go when school starts again in the fall. So many of these children are restaveks (child slaves), orphans, and/or are living in extreme poverty. So many are getting to go to school for the first time. This is really challenging. But it is really beautiful to see transformation happening in their lives through education and all the work that is being put in to ensure that their education is quality. 

The new kindergarten building during construction.

Ramase Lajan recycling center!

I think about what Respire was when it started. It was a girl who may or may not have been crazy, moving down to Haiti on total faith, to love on children. Then came a school. Then came a child feeding program. Then came more land, and a builder, and more plans, and then buildings, then partnerships, programs, progress. Now instead of just focusing on one or two aspects of life, Respire recognizes that you have to look at a child holistically. Simply offering a child an education is wonderful, but so many other things affect their ability to receive an education: what's going on at home? are they healthy? do they have basic needs met? and on and on. Respire is working to address all these things by reaching out to and educating parents, opening a clinic, providing jobs to help families sustain themselves, feeding kids physically and spiritually every weekend. People are constantly coming in and giving time to enrich kids lives through English classes, guitar lessons, sports camps, art, you name it. Children are not just being taught how to read and do math; they are being taught respect, tolerance, and other cornerstones of strong character, through the feeding program turned discipleship program. And now, thanks to some incredible partnerships, Respire is supporting artisans through Haiti's Jewels (which you really need to check out), raising food for the school through sustainable agriculture with Love Your Neighbor, and opening a recycling center (OH YEA!) through Ramase Lajan. I am so proud of those organizations and the people behind them, they are all truly incredible. (Click on all those links, its so worth it!)

Love Your Neighbor's garden on the side of Bellvue Mountain.

I look at my dear, dear friend Tachi and how much she has grown over the last year. She is one of the strongest women I know. She started off staying with Megan and I for a week last summer in between jobs and now runs our house like a machine. And her cooking is great; we would all die without her. Tachi is a leader in our house, a dedicated mother, and an example to the ladies that work with us. Ladies like Darlene, who has come to live with us, along with her son, Jezilo. Their story is an incredible one of transformation, read more about it here on Megan's blog. 

Super Tachi and her daughter Esther.

Over everything, perhaps, I am most astounded by Megan and her family. Having been there when Micha first came to live with Megan, I don't even know how to describe the way this little girl has been completely transformed. I think back to the beginning - she was a poor, scared, erratic child. But she had such a magnificent and genuine smile despite it all. I can't imagine what she had been through and I can't imagine she thought, at first anyway, that this new found stability was going to last. I would sit with her and work with her on learning numbers and colors. She could not stinkin' remember pink (woz) or orange (jon abricot) and I thought to myself, "Man this is not good! Is she very smart?" And when I came back at Christmastime last year, I couldn't believe that thought ever crossed my mind. Micha is BRILLIANT. She knows English so well now that we can have conversations, and let me tell you, she is a neat kid. And she knows all her colors now :).

Micah, Jessica, and mangos as BIG as their heads!!

Had to include one of Jessi in the Pooh Suit
because it is my life's joy!

I remember when I first heard that Jessica, Micha's younger sister, would be coming to live with Megan as well. I was a little worried - she just became a mom and now was getting another kid. Jessica came on the exact day that I left last year and I didn't get to meet her, which I still think is funny. But seeing her from Christmas to June and June to August, she is growing beautifully as well. I am so thankful she is here. Jessica reminds me of my little sister in so many ways, she's totally got 'tude. I would probably call her a turd under my breath about 4 times a day, but oh my gosh, this child is so precious. And the more she is loved on, the better she gets. And the fact that she and Micha have each other has made such a noticeable difference in their lives. It brings tears to my eyes thinking about them together - playing, laughing, fighting, getting older - and knowing how much my sister has meant to me. Jessica and Micha both, day by day, are growing in the good, Spirit-filled, loving home that they are being raised in. 

Throwback: us in college.
See? Totally different :)

And at the head of that home is Megan, who is one of the great treasures in my life. I have loved seeing what the Lord has done transforming her into a mother. I can't really speak to the extent that it has been difficult for her, even having gone into the trenches with her as much as I can. And I don't know many people that could've done it, or would've been willing to make the sacrifices that she has. She stepped up. She was not a mother back in June of last year, but she said yes to taking in and loving these sweet girls with all her heart. God took that and transformed her into a mom, and a goshdarn good one at that. (I have a lot of bad to compare it to thanks to my last several psych/social work internships.) It is truly amazing and such a testament to the transformative power of God. 

Momma Megan

The craziest thing that has struck me in all this is that this thing didn't just start last year. It didn't start when that crazy girl decided to move down to Haiti. It started 14 years ago when Pastor Benito and his wife would go up Bellvue Mountain to pray every Sunday morning at 4am. Pray that God would do something, bring somebody, to transform that mountain from the dark, voodoo ceremony hotspot it was to a place that brought life and hope to the people of Gressier. And things fell into place over the years. Megan had experiences that shaped her and lead her to where she is now. Our paths crossed in college and I'm blessed to have been along for this ride. Bernard was learning English from New Yorkers and getting shaped into the genius he is today. Tachi was busy overcoming remarkable odds to get where she was when we met her. And so on with every person's story who has been a part of Respire Haiti. 

When the Benitos were with Megan signing papers for the purchase of the first piece of land, they cried and praised God for answering their prayers. After 14 long years, God answered, and in a HUGE way. It makes me wonder with much excitement what he has in the works right now, in all of our lives. What person might we meet tomorrow that points us down a certain path, what random inspring thing might we read, what nice looking rock or bit of glass (Sophie) might we see on the ground will God use to continue his transformative work in our lives? All praise and glory to him for his mighty works! And for another great summer in Haiti. 

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.