I sit here, anticipating words to convey just what my heart is feeling, accurately and eloquently. I feel overwhelmed at the thought [and pressure] of telling His story, but know how purposeful and intentional He was in placing me on this trip – so I have to at least try. My mind is scattered and it reflects the state of my heart right now.
It was a difficult trip. Emotionally, physically and mentally. I’m not an emotional person, I like to think, and yet there were several instances where I felt the sensation of tears running down my face. We arrived on Tuesday afternoon in Port Au Prince. We were told to be aware of our surroundings outside of the airport – as Port Au Prince was a bit crazier than Guibert. As we were waiting on Jean Alix to arrive with our Tap Tap [Haitian Taxi Bus], we were amidst the crazyness of the busy street. I would look around and would try to avoid the several winks I got from the men [playing the oblivious card always works in my favor, or so I like to think]. A man asked me if I was married, I said no, and he replied “would you like to be?”, I answered [while chuckling] “no, thank you”.
A younger man came up to me and asked me “Why are you smiling? Do you always smile?”, I answered “Ha! I guess I just have reasons to smile” and he said “Does nothing bad ever happen to you?” and I said “Well, of course. Bad things happen, but Jesus loves me… so it’s okay”, “Ohhh… so you believe in Jesus!” “Yes, I do… do you?”, “No, I do not. I can’t”, “Why?”, I ask. He replies “Because, I have a family. I can’t be a Christian and do my job” and that’s just about the time our Tap Tap gets there… So I start walking down the road and he walks alongside me. I told him “Jesus meets you where you are” and he nodded. I told him “I will pray for you” and he said “Please don’t forget”.
As we left the busyness of the airport, I wore a smile until we were a few miles from the airport. A sea of blue “U.S. Aid” tarps were the first I saw. We were told that this is where they eat, sleep, cook, live and use the bathroom. Several people under one tarp. As soon as we passed a tent city, another one would soon approach… my heart was heavy and my smile was fading.
We arrived at Jean Alix’s house after an adventurous ride from Port Au Prince up the mountain to Kenscoff. The magnitude of devastation seemed a bit larger in Port Au Prince than farther up the mountain, but you could still sense that they were dealing with the effects of the earthquake, as well.
Wednesday was our first day of work. Our purpose was to roof 4 houses in 5 days. Starting the work day at 8am and ending when dusk came. None of us had experience with roofing, and with 7 girls and merely 3 men on the trip – I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried.
The beautiful thing about Haiti is their sense of community. If one family is without a home, the entire community will come together and fix that. The beauty of their selflessness and love towards one another was something that continually brought tears to my eyes. We worked alongside the families and the neighbors to put the roofs on. That way, it wasn’t a bunch of white people coming to take over… rather, a group of white people coming to help them in the process.
We got all of the supplies together [16 planks of wood, and several sheets of roofing tin] and carried it all down the mountain. Jeff, one of our fearless leaders, was great at figuring out the steps and delegating tasks to the rest of the team. There was a sweet boy that started following us on this day. His name was Evens, and he had quite the smile and heart. A small scar on his forehead, but his huge smile is what I mainly remember.
There was a point during the day that a few of us were waiting on a task… just helping where we could. A Haitian woman pulled her chair and laundry buckets over to where we were working and was quietly doing her laundry by hand. I go over to her and somehow communicated with her enough to ask her if I could help. She handed me a piece of clothing and a bar of soap and nodded. As I’m scrubbing this article of clothing [realizing it is her delicates], I look up and see a crowd of Haitians encircled around us. Some laughing, smiling… and some just watching. I looked around to a few of the girls on my team and questioned with my shoulders and facial expression, “what are they looking at?” hoping I didn’t do something to offend their culture.
Afterwards, I asked Jen “What do you think drew the crowd? Did I do something wrong?” and she assured me that I didn’t. She said they probably thought it odd/funny that a white girl would hand wash their laundry… because they think that all Americans have laundering services. As simple as it was, that was my favorite part of the whole trip, probably. There were a ton of other sweet things, but this one really sticks out. A friend recently said that their goal was merely to “love the person in front of them”. That has really stuck with me. How simple, how true. Simply love the person in front of me.
We finished the roof and prayed with the family inside their tiny [roofed] house. There were so many people in that tiny middle room, but it was so rich. After returning to Jean Alix’ house that night, I sat outside and journaled… reflecting on the days’ events and spending some time in prayer. As it started to rain, I thought of the sweet family that now had a roof. The daughter, Abigayle, that is sleeping under a roof, staying dry, rather than under a plastic tent/tarp. Although, I love the rain… I love how it sounds, smells, regenerates and refreshes, I was reminded of the several thousand people that I saw just a day prior, under their blue tarps. The heavier it poured… the more my heart ached and pleaded on behalf of the Haitians. We all were exhausted and crashed fairly early [ended up being a trend we fulfilled throughout the week].
Thursday, we didn’t have a house to roof. None of the houses were ready for roofs [the sides weren’t finished on some, and the cement forms weren’t poured yet]. We did not waste any time, though… Jean Alix had plenty for us to do. We broke up into two teams… one team went to help with the progression of one of the houses down the mountain, and the other team helped organize the supply room and built shelves. I was on the shelving/organization team. We started out strong [4 of us… Jesse, as our leader]. We built the frame, and realized we had messed up a few measurements… so we had redo some of it. After a few times doing that, frustrations were high and our spirits weren’t as encouraged as they once were. Something that was estimated to take a few hours, took close to 8… just due to our miscalculations. At the end of the day, we felt good – because it was done correctly. We were still waiting on a few sheets of plywood to completely finish, but we were told we’d get that within a few days.
Friday, I woke up feeling headachey and ew. I went to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet, anticipating the worst. Sure enough, the worst came [I’ll spare the details]. I felt better afterwards, washed my face and went about the day. Not wanting to miss out on the days activities, I kept it all to myself. Stubborn? Yes. That morning, I drank two liters of water just to make sure it wasn’t dehydration. We walked to the house we’d be roofing and I felt a little dizzy. I drank more water and took an advil and kept working [though, not nearly at the ideal pace]. I walked back with Tammy around lunchtime and started feeling nauseous and dizzy once again. I mentioned it to her as we were sitting at the boys home waiting for the rest of our team. Before lunch, Jeff came over and said he heard my secret of the morning. After lunch, he suggested I stay at the boys home for the rest of the afternoon. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but did it anyways due to the persistence of Jeff and Tammy. ;-)
My head was pounding and my feeling was “frustrated”. As much as I desired to be with my team, to not let them down… I took time to shut off my own thoughts and words. Since seeing the devastation in Port Au Prince, I’d had so many thoughts that I assumed would be better to just shut off until I had the time [and energy] to process them. So, here was my moment to be still… and I listened to what my God had to say. He was saying to me over and over: This is mine. This country is mine. I am their hope.
Monday, we were at a house a little further than the rest. We got there with the supplies and met the family. I immediately gravitated toward the babies and stroked the cheek of a little one. His big toothless grin and excitement made my morning. I asked to hold him and the mother [I assumed] said yes. I pick him up and something feels off. I realize his legs did not move from the sitting position. As I hold him, his legs are stiff and seemingly stuck in that position. After holding the happy baby for a few minutes, I ask a team leader what was the cause of that. They said some babies are rarely held… they’re almost always sitting on the ground, so their legs grow in a sitting position. What? My heart breaks. This adorable baby boy in my arms, laughing and cooing, is rarely held? I fought against the [very strong] urge to take him home with me right then. Can I change my profession to “professional baby lover and holder?” I would be good at that.
I had one of those “I’m really in Haiti” moments when I was wiping the sweat from my forehead, I look out from the window of the house and see this amazing image. There were three women sitting together under some shade… one was doing her laundry in a bucket, one was breast feeding her baby and the other was sitting idly. The background of this image was mountains as far as I could see. Peace.
The question that has been asked by many has been “will you go back?” and I’ve learned to never limit God by a “yes” or “no”. If it were up to me… yes, but it clearly is never up to me. After leaving Nigeria 4 years ago, I was sure I would be back the following year… and God hasn’t allowed it yet.
“did you love it?” :: yes and no. There were aspects of it that I loved. I loved the culture, the sense of community, the beauty [of the country and people], the joy that everyone had, the children [shocker, right?]. As the sunburn turns brown, the mosquito bites fade, the Haitian rash goes away, my body isn’t as sore and reality sets in, my heart is still very heavy for the Haitian people.
So here I sit, still entirely uncertain about what is going to happen in my life and lacking any sort of understanding of God’s reasoning behind all of this [the trip, the reason for my presence on it]…but I have resolved to wait upon the Lord. Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. No one whose hope is in the Lord will ever be put to shame.
“But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” Philippians 2:17
Pictures to come.
