Thank You Haitians

I feel as if I have not expressed my thankfulness to the Haitians whom have blessed my life with enough joy to last me a lifetime. This blog is a thank you to every Haitian whom has touched my life and graced me with a love I wish could experience every day of my life. I hope that my words will somehow fill you with the joy that I experience.

The other day I was walking to grab a quick breakfast before going to teach when I noticed one of my students named Jessica on the corner sobbing. I went up to her and asked her what was wrong and she replied that she had been told to leave school because she did not have the proper color shoes. After questioning her further I discovered that her family could barely afford food let alone a new pair of shoes. I took her to the school and asked the principal if he could let her go to school for the day, granted that I would take her that afternoon to buy her new shoes. Yet he could not oblige my request since he had told her the day prior that she would not be allowed in if she did not have proper shoes like the all the other students. Therefore, Jessica and I ran around until we finally found a pair of black shoes. When she tried on a pair that fit, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. She thanked me and tore off towards the school with a smile that everyone could see. The rest of the day was bliss as I remembered her face as she ran off to school.

Yet the blessing did not end there. This Thursday I helped out at the clinic and I saw a women there keep looking at me with such a warm and personal smile that I could not help but feel as if she was my own mother welcoming home her beloved son. She had two very sick children and after she saw the doctor she waited in the courtyard until the clinic finished. Then I saw Jessica walk up to the door and asked me to come with her. We walked over to the women holding her sick child and I remember vividly what she was wearing: a beautiful orange headscarf, blue dress, and a smile that relaxed every muscle in my body. As I walked up to her she explained that she was Jessica’s mother and I told her what a good student Jessica was in class. She thanked me and told me that she had to get back to her house. Yet before she turned to leave she stood on her tip toes and whispered in my ear so quietly that only I could hear, “Mesi pou soulye a” (thank you for the shoes). I was so overtaken with joy and we both smiled at each other so warmly, we could quite possibly be adding to global warming issue. I pray God allows us to meet again soon.

Stories like these are what I will remember about Haiti forever. One day I was walking home from work and suddenly two street boys came along side me smiling and asking me question after question. I then pointed up to the clouds which were a magnificent red from the setting Caribbean sun saying “Se bel, wi?” (It’s beautiful, yes?). They both looked up and for a moment did not utter a word, but just started into the awesome scene. Look up at the sunset tonight and share in our joy, share in our humanity, share in a love for one another that runs deeper than the surface of our skin, but rather to the depths of our hearts. May you find solidarity with us there.

The Butterfly

Tired from another day in the hot Haitian sun, I wearily walk back to my house stumbling on the terribly maintained roads. I remember thinking all I wanted was to make it back to my bed so I could visit some naturally gorgeous place in my dreams. Yet as I turn the corner who was there to greet me but a beautiful butterfly dancing happily at my feet. In looking at it, all the rubble around me seemed to dissolve away as the setting sun lit the unsettled dust with a golden glow. I walked the rest of that street with a sense of how much beauty this one butterfly had, examining its multicolored wings and gentle flying pattern. It seemed as if it followed me the entire length of the road before disappearing into the underbrush. As I went to sleep that night, all I only wanted was to dream of walking next to that butterfly again.

The other day I was talking to the Ivens (school principle) and Sussette when Sussette asked Ivons how his day was yesterday. Ivens shook his head saying “not very good” in a way that made me feel as if he had been sick. Sussette asked what went wrong and Ivens explain that his friend Jeff had been murdered the night before and the people in the community called him to identify what was left of the bullet torn body. He told us the story of what had happened saying Jeff wanted everyone in his tap tap (Haitian bus) to pay before going to his or her destination, which is about 10 goud (25 cents). When one of the passengers refused to pay he gave everyone else their money back and stood on the wall deciding where he wanted to drive to next. The man who refused to pay then came up to Jeff, shook him by the shirt, told him he could not tell him what to do, took out a gun and shot him. The crowd then dispersed at the sound of gunfire and the man was never caught. After Ivens had arrived, Jeff’s mother came to the scene and immediately began to scream and convulse on the ground at the sight of her son’s body. Ivens said it was a terrible thing to witness. Jeff leaves behind a wife and newly born child.

Ivens told the story without tears in his eyes and without conviction in his face, yet a sorrow that runs to the depth of his soul. When I replay him telling the story I find thoughts swirling in my head such as: where is justice, where is dignity, where is there a place for a man to earn an honest wage. I want the man to pay for what terrible act he has committed. Why is this man granted life when he takes an honest mans. I want to understand why he would do such a thing so I can in some way forgive him, yet what about the family he leaves behind? What about the little girl who will grow up without a father? Thus, I ask you all a favor, do what I struggle to do; pray for the man who killed Jeff. May he one day realize what he has done and be shone what joy there is in loving others.

In Haiti, sometimes all you can be thankful for are small things, such as a beautiful butterfly. Working at Child Hope I see children being raised to become responsible citizens. I am honored to be a part of each one of these children’s lives and I see a hope for Haiti in their smiles and selflessness. May their dreams be filled with prosperity, love, and a simple butterfly.

Today is a Beautiful Day

Today, today is a beautiful day. Today is a day where life sprouts out of the cracks in the fallen buildings around me, children run down the street chasing birds they cannot catch, and adults sing songs to God with a passion, love, and a faith which stretches into the unknown.

On Tuesday one of the Haitian workers at Child Hope named Paul came to me asking if I could help his sick wife since he did not have enough money to visit a doctor, which is only about $10! He said she could not stand without fainting and that she had really bad stomach issues. After talking it over with Ashley (Child Hope’s nurse), we decided to go visit Paul’s residence to check on her. Paul lives in a large tent city which is overflowing with people. As you walk down the dirt roads kids come up asking for whatever you have, most often times saying that they are hungry. Their pleas will always haunt me; yet continue to instill a drive in me to help. When we arrived at Paul’s tent we took off our sandals and entered the small living quarters. On the ground wrapped in a blanket was Paul’s frail wife. She was in obvious pain and was unable to sit up. She described to us that she had been having a high fever, chills, and severe stomach issues. Every time she talked seemed like a struggle and just trying to raise her head was a problem. Ashley gave the women medication for both malaria and the stomach problems and we gave Paul money for extra food. Yet before we left, we got everyone together and said a prayer. In that instant something beautiful happened. In that hot, humid, dark tent, when all hope seemed so far away and dignity was none existent, grace and peace descended as if a hand was gently resting upon everyone’s head. Looking around I caught a glimpse of something beautiful. All of the sudden during the prayer the women’s face burst into a beautiful smile for the first time. Seeing this sent such a surge of joy to every part of my body, it felt as if I could not contain it and joy was shooting out of my fingertips and into the hands joining mine. After we finished Ashley and I told the women we would be back tomorrow. When we returned we found the women standing in the doorway of her tent looking as if she had never been sick. We have an awesome God who cares, feels, and loves us infinitely. Thank you God for showing up.

The Veil of Society

So I sit on the roof of our house, looking over the Haitian horizon with so much on my mind, but somehow it all seems to evaporate into the swirling sunset clouds above me. I feel as if God has been painting this scene all day, for it is beautiful beyond words.

Everyday I spend here I feel like my view of reality is being blow apart. For example, on Sunday we went to church and it was beautiful as both Haitians and foreigners joined hands and worshiped Jesus. After the service our group traveled to a local fast food restaurant. I had been talking to my Haitian friends in the group and when we entered the food area, we stopped near the door to continue our conversation. After the political debate we were having ended, I asked if they wanted to go sit with everyone in our group (who were, by the way, entirely white). My Haitian friends said they did not want to since they were not invited. I told them they did not need an invitation and they were welcome to join them, yet they still refused. Thus, I extended an invitation for them to sit at the table, but again they denied my invitation, explaining that it would be too awkward. The real reason that they did not eat with the group is that there exists in Haiti a class structure which all Haitians understand. Darker skin is often undesirable among the population and whiter skin is often a sign of wealth. I still go to bed sometimes in disbelief that such blatant racism exists; yet I have vowed to try and break down the system with my friends, even if I cannot change the country. Therefore, I replied that I’d rather stay with them. We then went to the upper part of the restaurant and had a great time, laughing until my muscles hurt when I smiled.

Another story I must tell is one of generosity, kindness, and love. A tinny boy named Davidson, who is only 10 years old and has the sweetest voice (it sounds like he has to fight for every breath), is getting 1000 goud for doing chores around the house. He explained that he was going to give 100 of it to his sister and 900 to his parents so they can care for his other siblings. He told me that he felt so terrible about spending the last 100 goud all on himself that he wanted to help others out so they could partake in his joy. I hope to have as good as heart as his one day, pure and selfless.

There are many things I wish I could portray this past week. I have seen both good and evil, and at times a beauty that no words of mine could ever do justice. What I can say is that these people shine with a warmth which penetrates to the bone. I pray that Haitians let their beauty shine throughout the world.

Bonjou Ayaiti

So I’m back in Haiti, feeling the warmth of the hot Haitian sun with open arms and a smile. It seems like so little has changed in this country since the first time I came. People here are still the friendly, charming people I first met just two years ago. Their ease to laughter and smiles, which literally stretch from ear to ear, fill me with such a joy its hard not to smile while I write this. The mountains beautifully nestle the city and the spectacular sunsets seem to make up for all the terrible tragedies these people have to endure.

But blocking much of the beauty of Haiti is the darkness which aims to destroy any light that these beautiful people try to emanate. With my return I am faced with starving children running the streets looking for food, restavecs enslaved just a few houses away and abused children left to suffer at the hands of their parents. Many of the kids at the orphanage have been subject to these conditions before entering. One of the boys in the orphanage first entered at a mere 18 pounds at 3 years old.

A particular boy’s story I would like to tell is one I still have trouble fully comprehending. His mother had two children with two separate fathers. His sister lives in America and is now in the US army while he lives in Haiti. She does not contact him and has never come to visit him. He explained that his mother and sister moved to the US with his sister’s wealthy father while he and his poor father continued to live in Haiti. To make matters worse his father beat him, told him he was not his child and that he did not care about him. He was beaten so badly one night that he ran away and found a woman who took care of him before taking him to the orphanage. While telling me this he said he became a believer in Christ through the experience and gives thanks to him everyday that he protected and continues to protect him. He now wants to earn enough money to support a family and be able to help other people in some way. His perseverance and love for others gives me hope for a better Haiti and a better world.

The first couple of days here have been hard work trying to get projects done at the transition house, teaching the kids how to do fractions and use a tape measure. Yet just being able to laugh and see the kids light up when they do something right brings me so much joy it is hard to explain. I pray that God blesses the Haitian people and that love shines through to the darkest corners of this island.

Reality

The other day Wistnell, Dante and I traveled to Milot and Limonade to gather some compost for my research. As we drove in the back of a tap tap (a truck converted into a bus) we passed many things that are common in Haiti. For example, as we came to the main round-about in town a street kid appeared holding an old rag desperately trying to wash a car for whatever loose change the driver had. Another man was limping and had a severe gash in his leg with nothing but a dirty rag to cover it. As I see these things, I still have a hard time comprehending them. I feel as if my mind is a hand full of water, trying hard to retain the water, only to have it squirm between my fingers and be left with a faction of the memory. Such things are not a new occurrence in this country and have been going on for decades only to be ignored by the world and even worse, largely caused by it. I cannot believe God wants these people to live like this while people seek a comfortable life in the US. Many people have told me that God wants us to enjoy the blessings that he has bestowed upon us, yet does that mean that because God has given us 100 dollars we can go and have a fancy dinner while a child starves to death. Just because a child is not starving on your corner, does not mean there is not one starving in the world. In fact, I am surrounded by many of them as I write this now. People may not see the direct connection of money with helping, so maybe I'm the crazy one, but I would like to make clear that I speak of love, not condemnation. Everyone has such a beautiful opportunity to help, and I pray that people trade in their money for the true wealth of love and relationship.

I will finish with a story of when I was driving the other day and saw a dead women laying in the road. As we passed I demanded that we stop to at least move her off the road and say a prayer, yet the people I was with said “not now.” When I was finally able to convey the depth of my concern, they all agree that we could stop when we returned on the way back. I remember just sitting in the back of the car astounded. She was just lying there, dead in the middle of the road. I told them it was not her time to die, but they said nothing in response. I began to fell such a deep sorrow that I cannot explain and do not wish to divulge into. This is frankly not the reality that God has in mind, and to much that is given, much is expected. Let us go forward and together love recklessly.

Complacency or Action

The scene at Port-au-Prince airport is always a place that seems surreal to me. You get on a plane in Miami, one of the wealthiest places in the world, and arrive in a place where some people don't even have enough money to buy a stick of gum. I saw people line the gates gazing in at the newly arrived foreigners with blank stares and such a deep sense of hopelessness. They imagine where those planes have come from and wish that they had the same opportunities to provide financially for their families as these people who are just a plane flight away.

After leaving the airport I rode in the back of a truck, taking in everything that was around me. A collapsed building that still had not been removed and probably had rotting bodies under it, street children washing traffic stopped cars for pennies, and bodies that looked frail and clothed with what would pass for rags back in the U.S. After having been gone for five months now the city still looks just as bad as when I left. This way of life has now become common and many cannot see the solution to the problem without more help, which frankly many will not receive. Yet how can starving people be normal! How can we allow for a child to live without parents or anyone on the planet to care for them! That cannot and is not normal. What I want to portray is that in Haiti, there has been so much suffering and pain that it seems almost impossible to break the cycle of poverty that exist there, thus people have learned to accept it. For example, we were driving back from delivering supplies to tent cities near Delmas and as we weaved through the unpaved and pot hole filled roads we turned a corner and came to a sudden screeching halt. We backed up and and took another road. We did not take that road because in front of the car lay a white linen sheet covering a dead body with a pool of blood beside it. No words were said about the incident. We just continued on as if nothing abnormal had occurred. Wait, a person is dead and their body is sitting in their blood, laying under the sweltering Haitian sun! That is not okay! It's not okay that a father in a refugee camp cannot provide his family with shelter from the lashing rain! It is not okay that a mother has to worry about getting food for her malnutrition children! Although the world may have become accustom to extreme suffering, we cannot allow ourselves to be comfortable with it. Their has to be a sense of urgency to do everything we can to fight poverty. If everyone tried as hard as they could to alleviate poverty image what we could do. Too often people feel they cannot make a large enough difference with the resources they have and will not even try. What I say to that is do what YOU can, don't worry about others. I know others will refuse to help, but you and I are not like them. Do not be complacent with evil. We must continue to fight with all our energy and pour all our resources into helping others who are in far worse situations than our own in order to show our love for one another. For love, not money is the most important thing in life.

Now I do not mean to say that Haiti is some type of hell, for to do so would be very incorrect. The people here, although financially poor, are some of the nicest and most kind you will ever find. For example, Wistnell, a Haitian living in Cap Haitien, will sit with me for hours teaching me Creole without an ounce of frustration or boredom. Furthermore, Tony, who is staying with me in the Cap Haitien house, walks with me wherever I need to go in town without even asking what I am doing it for. Dr. Maklin, a Haitian trained doctor, includes the line in some form or another “Oh, you are so special” in every e-mail I receive. Everyone in the house I am staying at is unfairly kind to me in a way that I like to refer to as “recklessly loving.” I enjoy waking up to their kind faces and being able to say “ou domi byen” (did you sleep well) and get the response “M' domi tre byen, merci. E ou memn.” (I slept very well, thanks. And you yourself) They'll always ask what I am doing today and care very much about my well being. I feel very lucky to be with each and everyone.

I would like to leave you with a quote from the Bible of when a women says to Jesus, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table.” The Haitian people do not ask to be rich, they only ask to live with dignity. Is that too much to ask for. Is dignity too much. Please let us come together, and together we can let them live with dignity.