I started writing this blog last Sunday...I'm just now getting around to finishing it.
As sad as I am to say it, I'm home. I actually made the decision to leave on Tuesday, but didn't update about it because I wanted to surprise my brother...which flopped...(I was told to text, not call because my parents got a fancy car that shows who is calling and can be projected through the speakers...I didn't get the email on account of no internet for the last 4 days in Haiti...my brother may or may not have seen my name, and heard my voice say "I'll see you tonight in Knoxville." We tried). At any rate, as much as my heart longs to be in Seguin, I am, once again, in Jefferson County, TN. It was so tough to finally come to the decision, but this is definitely where God wants me. There are some things in my life that weren't totally sorted out, and one reason for going to Haiti was to run away from them, but they followed me...with vengeance. So, I'm home to heal. I'm home for restoration. I'm home because God wants me home to find him even in the mundane life, in the little things...even in Jefferson County. Pride would have been the only thing holding me in Haiti, not God. So here I sit, in my comfortable bed, with air conditioning, unlimited internet, electricity, bountiful food and water...yet something feels wrong.
I have become accustomed to children asking for something as simple as food or shoes when I now hear them wanting the newest cell phone or computer. I saw children having fun with an old bicycle rim and a stick instead of video games. Children simply wanted to hold a hand and live in community instead of locking themselves away behind a computer. I saw adults plowing each other's gardens. There were people who truly wanted to learn and be educated instead of having to force themselves to go to class. I knew that happiness didn't come from possessions, but I saw it lived out. No television, no video games, no internet, no bowling, no movies, no malls, yet happiness. There was a simplicity to life that could not be measured. Living day-by-day is a beautiful thing, and, honestly, our society could use a little more of it. Instead, we plan and look to the future and control our lives, but life is so much slower and wonderful than we make it out to be. There is time to enjoy someone's company without worrying about if you will make it to your next appointment and missing half of what they had to say. There is an investment from person to person that is unmatched. People genuinely care. People hope and dream for a better tomorrow, for a better life; they simply don't know where to begin.
Here I sit...one week later. I've had time to settle in and reflect on what I've been through in the past month. I've learned that the mission field doesn't have to be in Haiti, or Uganda, or Belize. The mission field is where ever you are. It is in the words that you speak, in your actions, and more importantly, it is in the way that you love. I read a quote in a book that I recently read. I think that Mother Teresa said it (I don't really know, but it sounds very "Mother Teresa-esque"), "Love, and when necessary, use words." This was a HUGE revelation in Haiti. I was so concerned with the fact that I couldn't even talk to them, but those kids didn't care. They knew, with the pale, freckled hand that held theirs, that I loved them for no other reason than that they were precious in the sight of our Father.
My brother, part of the reason for my early homecoming, just drove away about two hours ago. There was a sense of hesitation for the past couple of days. Last night, we kept the tv on, kept watching movies, kept wasting time like it was standing still. This morning, we all slept in knowing that the second we awoke, we'd have to pack the car. The hour still came at us as the same speed. We just hoped that maybe by staying asleep, we could pretend that we were invincible, that nothing, not even time, could tear us apart. The hallway, the driveway, the room next door...all empty. My mother cries a lot, and we make fun of her for it. Normally, she laughs along. Today, she never did.
"Goodbye," "Take Care," "Write," "I love you." All words. All cutting too deeply. This day had to come. We knew that. We simply pretended that it never would. So, last night we went out with a bang and watched Aladdin, then quickly scurried off to bed so that we never had to say "good night," knowing that it would be the last time for a long time, and the last time living, all of us...together. Although his constant presence is ceasing, and our ability to communicate has definitely been limited, we "love, and when necessary, use words."
Learning, growing, moving on, loving...here's to you!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
1 Kings 7:25
Sorry for the lack of a post. We've had a lack of excitement.
The past few days have been uneventful, quite frankly. No thieveries, no births, no catastrophes. Brandi hurt her back so she's been on house arrest. Jill and I had cabin fever so we joined with the group working on public health and have hiked two 6 mile days asking questions about what kind of water purification system that they have, if they have toilets, if they use them...it is relatively close to what we are doing. We've taught English, we've played played with the kids, we've slept outside, we've read, we've watched movies...we're basically losing our minds. The mornings are filled with hiking and interrogation, but the afternoons are full of nothings.
Sunday, however, we went to Haitian church. I finally heard some harmony in the singing, but very little. The Haitian way of singing is to sing as loud as possible. Disregard tune, key, pitch, tone, and beautiful likenesses. I don't know how it happened, but I was conned into singing. So, with ukulele in hand, I sang "Amazing Grace" hoping that someone would know it and sing along. The English-speaking folk joined in, but no one else. Other than the fact that it was 90 degrees, no a/c, 3 hour service, and we couldn't understand anything that was taught, it was quite fun.
Since then...nothing has happened.
Luckily, we're all going to Jacmel Friday because Saturday we have some people to drop off at the airport from the group that came in. Maybe there will be some adventure in that, but as of now, there isn't much going on at all.
Oh, and the title makes about as much sense as the blog.
The past few days have been uneventful, quite frankly. No thieveries, no births, no catastrophes. Brandi hurt her back so she's been on house arrest. Jill and I had cabin fever so we joined with the group working on public health and have hiked two 6 mile days asking questions about what kind of water purification system that they have, if they have toilets, if they use them...it is relatively close to what we are doing. We've taught English, we've played played with the kids, we've slept outside, we've read, we've watched movies...we're basically losing our minds. The mornings are filled with hiking and interrogation, but the afternoons are full of nothings.
Sunday, however, we went to Haitian church. I finally heard some harmony in the singing, but very little. The Haitian way of singing is to sing as loud as possible. Disregard tune, key, pitch, tone, and beautiful likenesses. I don't know how it happened, but I was conned into singing. So, with ukulele in hand, I sang "Amazing Grace" hoping that someone would know it and sing along. The English-speaking folk joined in, but no one else. Other than the fact that it was 90 degrees, no a/c, 3 hour service, and we couldn't understand anything that was taught, it was quite fun.
Since then...nothing has happened.
Luckily, we're all going to Jacmel Friday because Saturday we have some people to drop off at the airport from the group that came in. Maybe there will be some adventure in that, but as of now, there isn't much going on at all.
Oh, and the title makes about as much sense as the blog.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Psalm 94:11
The entertainment continues. It started yesterday morning when the brand new Chacos that I bought to work in were stolen along with 4 other pairs of shoes of the other people. We have a shoe rack just inside the door so that the floor isn’t always covered with mud. The new people that live here didn’t realize that the door was unlocked when they came in the night before. So the kids took the liberty and found the door unlocked and our innocent sandals (they didn’t take any tennis shoes…I figured that they would be the first to go) were abducted. At any rate, no one was super happy about that, but Kyle talked to some dude (apparently, he’s in charge of the kids) and told him that if the shoes were returned, there would be no trouble. Embarrassed as they were, they put 2 pairs (mine and one of Jill’s) under a bush for us to find.
Yesterday was supposed to be our first day of digging another hole. We ended up not doing so…not because we didn’t have shoes to work in, but because there was a woman who showed up at the clinic who was in labor. Considering that Brandi wants to be a mid-wife someday, we stuck around. It was definitely a blessing that we stayed. I needed to blow off some steam from my newly stolen shoes so I went on a little run. Upon returning, I found that there was still no baby and no digging. Since I’m not a huge fan of the whole “birth” thing, I waited outside. Eventually, as we were still waiting, it was time for English class. Since Brandi and Jill were doing “baby work,” I taught by myself, which wasn’t a big deal at all. When I returned to the clinic, I found Brandi, Jill, and Dr. Henry…still waiting and a tad frustrated. It turns out that there is a little saying that goes a little something like “water broke through her mouth.” AKA, she threw up and though that her water broke. Either way, this woman was going to have a baby. Dr. Henry said that he would break her water for her if he had to. She really was in labor though. Enough time went by, I wrote some music (because I had nothing better to do), and I was then sucked in to the “birthing” room. I was merely there to shed light on the situation…literally. Without such modern conveniences, I was the one who held the flashlight so that Dr. Henry could see what he was doing. Clayton finally got back during the whole process to find all of us begging this woman to suck it up and push). Long story short, the woman refused to push because of sheer pain, and we were all impatient really. So around 9 pm, after having her there since 8 am, she decided that she would rather sleep. So she did, and we were finally off duty and able to eat some dinner (with what appetite I had left…). This morning around 5:30, Clayton took her in the truck to the hospital in Jacmel. Turns out that she had to have a C-section because the birthing canal was too small. No wonder she was in so much pain. Either way, “birth” is a disgusting word, and I may never have kids…I’ve been scarred for life.
After an incredibly long, stressful day, we decided to sleep out on the roof because the stars were simply captivating. Other than fighting off the cats (whom we are incredibly annoyed by), it was an incredibly peaceful evening.
So today was the day to dig!! Finally! We went to this woman’s house to dig a hole in the place where we were previously told to dig…naturally. After 2.5 hours of work, Henry came to harass us (and to tell us that he had found our shoes). Luckily he was there to translate when another woman who lives in the house came out and told us some interesting information. They failed to inform us that they already had a hole dug by local Haitian men. They also had a cover to put over the hole that had a “toilet-esque” design. Not only that, this hole put ours to shame. We had about 5 feet…this hole was a good 15. Basically, they just needed walls around this thing. What? You’d think that this little discovery would have been revealed, oh, I don’t know, when we asked if they wanted a toilet. Maybe I’m wrong. Brandi said that nothing in Haiti goes as planned. I really had no idea how right she was. So…we laughed it off and put the dirt back in its rightful place in disbelief. When in Haiti…
So maybe God's plans are that our plans don't ever go as planned... ?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Philippians 2:4
Sorry for the delay on updates. We run on solar power, and we've been covered by constant (pouring) rain clouds the past...oh...5 days. This may be a bit scattered because I'm having an issue remembering all that happened...bear with me.
The past few days have been a bit more than interesting. Clayton, Dr. Henry, and our cook left on Saturday morning. Henry wanted to visit friends in Jacmel, the cook simply wanted to go home, and Clayton had to pick up 5 people and some tools (he has yet to return). This left the three of us alone in the clinic to be supervised by the principal of the school. On account of the constant monsoon here, no electricity (aka no internet, movies, charged batteries of any sort), no food (other than potatoes and peanut butter...yum). No sanity. We simply sat and read....all day. This was comparable to the Amish...seriously. Our last modern convenience was a movie on a dying computer that got 15 minutes in, set up the plot, sucked us in, and died. We have yet to finish the movie.
Without doctors in the clinic, we had to turn away people with tooth aches and such, but we had an incredibly sick (newborn...as in born-that-morning) baby (seriously, the thing looked like a Caucasian baby, and had a slight tint of purple...and was foaming at the mouth...incredibly sick). We had to make a few phone calls, but eventually we sent the man with 600 goude to the nearest hospital.
Henry...how do I begin to explain Henry. He is a Haitian doctor who simply couldn't make it one night camping. He's basically a pretty boy, but he is so funny and has definitely been a wonderful form of entertainment for us (especially without electricity)...he's been going crazy. We've been amused. Along with his continual singing of "Git Me Baby One More Time," some quotes: "I think I'm gonna have a hernia," "We're taking about American cats or Haitian cats?" "Clayton, you're always talking American to me like I know what you're saying," and my personal favorite, "I will not die here" (in response to the lack of electricity).
So yesterday (day 4 without electricity), we read (go figure) and ate potatoes. That night 4 new people and Kyle came to work on a public health project. They are all really nice, and are adjusting really well...we're having a hard time adjusting to the 3 of us in a room to having 4 more girls with us, but we're getting there. Kyle, he lives here, returned and, knowing the "ins" and "outs" of the place, turned on the generator. What? There was a generator? I mean, it's whatever...we just lost our sanity, no big deal. Needless to say, we were more than thankful that we could check emails, facebook, and charge computers, phones, and, in our case, power tools.
Clayton has yet to return because he had a meeting today about building a new school, but he'll be back tomorrow morning. Since he picked up the other group and the tools, he also grabbed us some more groceries, and, knowing that we were more than likely going crazy (fact), he bought us cookies to send up with all of the necessities. The man is a saint.
Today Jill and I ran.... Wow. There is so little oxygen in the air because of the altitude, and I'm sure that my heart rate was well over 200bpm by the end of the ordeal. Not only is the oxygen sparse, there is no such thing as "flat stretch" here. 3.5 miles of scaling mountains and some ab work really did me in for the day, but we were far from done. After lunch we had to teach English class, which went well, and then soccer for a good 2 hours after the class. Since my balance is a tad off, I fell three times (skinning my hands pretty good) and kicked a rock (idiot).
We've been talking to the women in the English class (because they are also teachers in the school) about building toilets at their houses so that they can use them and teach others how to use them (since we're leaving all of the tools here, people can continue to build them when we leave). So I'm finally getting a chance to sit down, and Brandi comes up to me with a woman in our English class named Dagelia. She wanted us to check out the toilet that they already had to see if they needed a new one. "10 minute walk," she says. Apparently "10 minutes" is a common thing in Haiti because it took a good hour. We saw her toilet; it was good, but more than that we were so blessed by her family. They wanted to teach us Creole, talk with us, give us a chicken (?). They were so precious. Dagelia talked and talked on the walk there and back. She continued to say how happy she was that we were there, that we were beautiful, and that she loved us. Small talk. She put some things into perspective as well. After talking about education, she said, "I pray to Jesus for your education so that you can come back and help us." People are crying for help. They are begging, and yet, we only help ourselves. Humbled.
The past few days have been a bit more than interesting. Clayton, Dr. Henry, and our cook left on Saturday morning. Henry wanted to visit friends in Jacmel, the cook simply wanted to go home, and Clayton had to pick up 5 people and some tools (he has yet to return). This left the three of us alone in the clinic to be supervised by the principal of the school. On account of the constant monsoon here, no electricity (aka no internet, movies, charged batteries of any sort), no food (other than potatoes and peanut butter...yum). No sanity. We simply sat and read....all day. This was comparable to the Amish...seriously. Our last modern convenience was a movie on a dying computer that got 15 minutes in, set up the plot, sucked us in, and died. We have yet to finish the movie.
Without doctors in the clinic, we had to turn away people with tooth aches and such, but we had an incredibly sick (newborn...as in born-that-morning) baby (seriously, the thing looked like a Caucasian baby, and had a slight tint of purple...and was foaming at the mouth...incredibly sick). We had to make a few phone calls, but eventually we sent the man with 600 goude to the nearest hospital.
Henry...how do I begin to explain Henry. He is a Haitian doctor who simply couldn't make it one night camping. He's basically a pretty boy, but he is so funny and has definitely been a wonderful form of entertainment for us (especially without electricity)...he's been going crazy. We've been amused. Along with his continual singing of "Git Me Baby One More Time," some quotes: "I think I'm gonna have a hernia," "We're taking about American cats or Haitian cats?" "Clayton, you're always talking American to me like I know what you're saying," and my personal favorite, "I will not die here" (in response to the lack of electricity).
So yesterday (day 4 without electricity), we read (go figure) and ate potatoes. That night 4 new people and Kyle came to work on a public health project. They are all really nice, and are adjusting really well...we're having a hard time adjusting to the 3 of us in a room to having 4 more girls with us, but we're getting there. Kyle, he lives here, returned and, knowing the "ins" and "outs" of the place, turned on the generator. What? There was a generator? I mean, it's whatever...we just lost our sanity, no big deal. Needless to say, we were more than thankful that we could check emails, facebook, and charge computers, phones, and, in our case, power tools.
Clayton has yet to return because he had a meeting today about building a new school, but he'll be back tomorrow morning. Since he picked up the other group and the tools, he also grabbed us some more groceries, and, knowing that we were more than likely going crazy (fact), he bought us cookies to send up with all of the necessities. The man is a saint.
Today Jill and I ran.... Wow. There is so little oxygen in the air because of the altitude, and I'm sure that my heart rate was well over 200bpm by the end of the ordeal. Not only is the oxygen sparse, there is no such thing as "flat stretch" here. 3.5 miles of scaling mountains and some ab work really did me in for the day, but we were far from done. After lunch we had to teach English class, which went well, and then soccer for a good 2 hours after the class. Since my balance is a tad off, I fell three times (skinning my hands pretty good) and kicked a rock (idiot).
We've been talking to the women in the English class (because they are also teachers in the school) about building toilets at their houses so that they can use them and teach others how to use them (since we're leaving all of the tools here, people can continue to build them when we leave). So I'm finally getting a chance to sit down, and Brandi comes up to me with a woman in our English class named Dagelia. She wanted us to check out the toilet that they already had to see if they needed a new one. "10 minute walk," she says. Apparently "10 minutes" is a common thing in Haiti because it took a good hour. We saw her toilet; it was good, but more than that we were so blessed by her family. They wanted to teach us Creole, talk with us, give us a chicken (?). They were so precious. Dagelia talked and talked on the walk there and back. She continued to say how happy she was that we were there, that we were beautiful, and that she loved us. Small talk. She put some things into perspective as well. After talking about education, she said, "I pray to Jesus for your education so that you can come back and help us." People are crying for help. They are begging, and yet, we only help ourselves. Humbled.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Proverbs 8:34
The past two days have been relatively uneventful. We don’t have the compressed earth presses so we don’t have the major tool to make the bricks that we need for building. We figured that we could go ahead and get some dirt piles started and dig where we are going to build the first toilet, but Clayton was sick all day and couldn't get out of bed to talk with us about where to build (which was fine because he definitely needed a break and some rest). So we've had some time to get a full Haitian experience.
Yesterday, we needed to go to the market to buy fresh produce to cook with. Two of the Haitian guys, Melise and Junior (easy to remember his name), came alongside as interpreters. We were very glad that they were there because I was in way over my head. After much indecision and debate, we finally left with limes, onions, garlic, oil, beans, and rice (the latter three which we already had at the clinic…who knew?).
Two nights ago was incredibly interesting: we went to Haitian church. There is a Christian church just down the hill, and they have night church every once in a while (basically when they feel like it…none of that Sunday morning stuff that we are used to). I really enjoyed it, but I feel as though I would have enjoyed it more if I could understand anything they were saying. Luckily, my ear caught the melodies of “You Raised Me Up,” and “This Little Light of Mine.” One thing that I did find amazing is that no one knew harmony. Maybe that is just because I have music running through my blood, but I didn’t know that harmonies had to be learned. I mean, I had to teach myself, but I know of people who just start doing it with no feat. That’s not incredibly important; I just thought it interesting.
Since we are not doing much and Clayton was overwhelmed a couple of days ago (and sick yesterday), we got to teach English class. Now, I know that in the States, there is a process of educating the educator, but they don’t care much for that here, so Brandi, Jill and myself became teachers in a matter of 2 seconds. Regardless of the lack of training (or experience), they learned their vegetables and random articles of clothing, and we found out after class that they had learned a Shania Twain song ("You're Still The One") so today we are going to learn “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” I know, we may be corrupting them, but they love it either way.
We’ve also had to reevaluate our design for the toilet because we discussed that they Haitians may not use the composting units. Now we’re going to do gravel pits, and we’re pretty sure that this will work because there will be no maintenance as far as the emptying and stirring of the compost goes. Basically it is the same model except now they don’t get to use the compost for fertilizer (which Clayton and Dr. Henry [a local Haitian] said they wouldn’t use anyway). So that was our project this morning: redesign. Apparently it is now fool proof.
We also have this little issue with beetles. They really enjoy flying around the room at night, landing on us, and crawling on us...basically coming out of no where sometimes (I found one in my pants...what?!). Two nights ago we decided to take control of our situation and the death toll was around 1-200. We "beetle proofed" the room with duct tape, but after spending a majority of the evening on the roof, I opted to sleep under the stars. It was cold, but incredibly worth it...except that the Haitians were having church till 2 in the morning, and started back up around 7:30 (they're not playing games here), and they are loud. Either way, wonderful night. I didn't get much sleep because I was distracted by the stars, but I'll nap today sometime.
We also have this little issue with beetles. They really enjoy flying around the room at night, landing on us, and crawling on us...basically coming out of no where sometimes (I found one in my pants...what?!). Two nights ago we decided to take control of our situation and the death toll was around 1-200. We "beetle proofed" the room with duct tape, but after spending a majority of the evening on the roof, I opted to sleep under the stars. It was cold, but incredibly worth it...except that the Haitians were having church till 2 in the morning, and started back up around 7:30 (they're not playing games here), and they are loud. Either way, wonderful night. I didn't get much sleep because I was distracted by the stars, but I'll nap today sometime.
This is a bit out of the air, but I’m pretty sure that I've had peanut butter for every meal so far.
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