Having been here four months now, I am seeing the different phases of my stint marked by very visible changes, mostly in relation to my company.
Upon arriving, I was naturally overwhelmed yet graciously in the shelter of guidance with Wilckly here to regulate things. But when things turned and he was carried away to prison, my dwellings were paralleled by the shift from shelter to the tent of independence. Praise God, I was not fearful of that condition, but savored Wilckly's presence in the weeks following his release. But then, from shelter to tent, I was introduced into the open skies of loneliness in leadership when he travelled Stateside.
Now, it may sound as if I'd been booted into the condition against my will, but I assure you that Wilckly's sabbatical (if it can be called that) was more necessary than I can describe to you. In saying this, though, I will not deny its difficulty. But in its difficulty, I can not also deny the necessity of this dwelling place for me. Without this time of orientation (in the extreme of the word) and if I hadn't learned the things I did during it, I would be the worse for it.
It is a privilege to be so honored of the Dorce's to have me sit in such a position in their absence. And to trust a person as they have trusted me is no small thing. Even further, God carried out His perfect, though uncomfortable, plan of accelerating me to the understanding I have now for this ministry, this people, this type of leadership and the things that are necessary to carry it out. I will be much more valuable to them in the rest of my time with here than I would be if Wilckly had stayed and cushioned the work for me.
Though I'm sure they didn't anticipate this time to be as it has been (and who could possibly do such a thing?), God knew since my first thought of this work, my first conversation with Dee, my first taste of the responsibility in this ministry that this would be His reckoning of it. And who can argue with sovereignty?
Anyway, I'm thankful for the whole lot of it. I have been refreshed by the conversation and fellowship of my visitors (though they have left me now). I am ready to jump back into the swing of Wilckly's presence and am taking a deep breath as the work begins again, as Wilckly always attracts more activity when he's here.
A few things I've noticed about Wilckly already:
1) he's more annoyed by the rats than me.
2) he has a higher standard for bananas than me.
3) we tend to drink more lemonade when he's around.
And 4) people generally respect him more than me, which is to be expected when you stand, in Haiti, a 40-something married Haitian man who founded the mission next to a 23-year-old white girl with no husband, no kids, no Kreyol, no experience and no idea what she's doing.
All my love,
C
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Really?
I've always wondered why cars, trucks, vans and all other other motorized vehicles seem to fall apart, not just in my possession, but in my very presence.
My first car was previously driven by my brother and sister and their friends, but of course did not reach its end until the worst possible moment when in my possession. My second vehicle was, granted, as old as my first (both built in '88), but had its own set of problems that waited until the car was called mine before they surfaced.
You name it, I've had to deal with it- flat tires, bad engines, needing to start the car from its exterior, radiator problems, broken hoses, coolant leaks, noisy belts, pump failure, faulty horns, shatter-prone bearings, no heat, no gas, no wipers, no lights, no working gauges, the works.
Well, here in Haiti, my past seems to be repeating itself in all the ways I would have liked for it not to.
Since we got our "new" pickup, I've driven it for maybe a total of 8 hours and sat in the back waiting for it to be fixed for a rough total of 28 hours. The same tire has gone flat twice, the first of which was the first time I ever sat in the friggin' thing, and the time I tried to get a woman to the hospital so she wouldn't have her baby in the dirt a bearing shattered, which caused my serpentine belt to rip to shreds, handicapping the truck in the middle of nowhere with a screaming pregnant lady in the back.
We put her on a tap tap to the hospital and 6 hours later she came riding back toward home with a little baby girl. 4 hours after THAT, we finally got the truck pulled back to my yard and fixed a few days later, only for the radiator to break the next time I drove it. Holy crap.
So as you can imagine, I am wary of taking it too often, hoping that when I do need it to go to the city, it won't break again. So I ride tap taps or a bus instead when I have to go to Port au Prince.
I went in a bus on Monday, on which there was no sitting room. So I practically stradled the gear shift and held on to what was left of the rear view mirrior for an hour. Then we hit a motorcycle. Thankfully, the Haitians on the motorcycle were smart ones and instead of gripping the moto for dear life, they did the right thing- they bailed. And that was the end of the moto. What was a 2 hour trip turned into a 3 hour one, but we were fine.
I went to the city again yesterday and everything was perfect. Sitting room on either vehicle we rode- bus or tap tap. The whole trip was smooth, until about a mile from home...when the tire exploded.
Only God knows why it happens to me. I've got no explanation.
Happy New Year!
Love you.
-C
My first car was previously driven by my brother and sister and their friends, but of course did not reach its end until the worst possible moment when in my possession. My second vehicle was, granted, as old as my first (both built in '88), but had its own set of problems that waited until the car was called mine before they surfaced.
You name it, I've had to deal with it- flat tires, bad engines, needing to start the car from its exterior, radiator problems, broken hoses, coolant leaks, noisy belts, pump failure, faulty horns, shatter-prone bearings, no heat, no gas, no wipers, no lights, no working gauges, the works.
Well, here in Haiti, my past seems to be repeating itself in all the ways I would have liked for it not to.
Since we got our "new" pickup, I've driven it for maybe a total of 8 hours and sat in the back waiting for it to be fixed for a rough total of 28 hours. The same tire has gone flat twice, the first of which was the first time I ever sat in the friggin' thing, and the time I tried to get a woman to the hospital so she wouldn't have her baby in the dirt a bearing shattered, which caused my serpentine belt to rip to shreds, handicapping the truck in the middle of nowhere with a screaming pregnant lady in the back.
We put her on a tap tap to the hospital and 6 hours later she came riding back toward home with a little baby girl. 4 hours after THAT, we finally got the truck pulled back to my yard and fixed a few days later, only for the radiator to break the next time I drove it. Holy crap.
So as you can imagine, I am wary of taking it too often, hoping that when I do need it to go to the city, it won't break again. So I ride tap taps or a bus instead when I have to go to Port au Prince.
I went in a bus on Monday, on which there was no sitting room. So I practically stradled the gear shift and held on to what was left of the rear view mirrior for an hour. Then we hit a motorcycle. Thankfully, the Haitians on the motorcycle were smart ones and instead of gripping the moto for dear life, they did the right thing- they bailed. And that was the end of the moto. What was a 2 hour trip turned into a 3 hour one, but we were fine.
I went to the city again yesterday and everything was perfect. Sitting room on either vehicle we rode- bus or tap tap. The whole trip was smooth, until about a mile from home...when the tire exploded.
Only God knows why it happens to me. I've got no explanation.
Happy New Year!
Love you.
-C
Friday, December 19, 2008
Oh Haiti
Well, may I say that at this point I could really deal with some time off. In fact, I took some already- yesterday. Went to the beach and sat. Looked at the beach and thought about the beach and listened to the beach and read a book by the beach. It was a wonderfully simple day.
I'm having hard time gathering my thoughts, probably because I ran out of time to sort them like a week ago, so you'll have to forgive me for these few random details on a lifestyle too eccentric to be anything other than mine. Whatever God was thinking, He sure had no trouble giving me a taste of the irony of life in America and my early travels, but He's taking it to another level now- from irony to cruel irony, or something resembling it.
We just got a donation of a large bag of animal crackers, so I finally know what our Christmas family treat will be.
We have flees in the internet room...again.
Only one of six baby chicks has survived the first few weeks of life. I have no idea how to rpotect them.
I have to clean everything. Somehow it all got dirty while I was preoccupied with...um, everything else.
I learned how to drive in Port au Prince today. Thought I had or was going to die several times, but somehow those trucks missed me by a few divine centimeters.
School is out for Christmas, which means that kids will stop spelling my name wrong when they write it with discarded chalk on my front door.
We have a new sewing machine, so there's one more thing I don't know how to do that I'll learn by causing various physical injuries and trying it different next time.
One of our goats finally gave birth. I didn't know baby goats were so cute. He's a little guy with fluffy white fur. Closest thing I'll have to a snowball this winter, so I'm resisting the urge to throw him.
Love.
-C
I'm having hard time gathering my thoughts, probably because I ran out of time to sort them like a week ago, so you'll have to forgive me for these few random details on a lifestyle too eccentric to be anything other than mine. Whatever God was thinking, He sure had no trouble giving me a taste of the irony of life in America and my early travels, but He's taking it to another level now- from irony to cruel irony, or something resembling it.
We just got a donation of a large bag of animal crackers, so I finally know what our Christmas family treat will be.
We have flees in the internet room...again.
Only one of six baby chicks has survived the first few weeks of life. I have no idea how to rpotect them.
I have to clean everything. Somehow it all got dirty while I was preoccupied with...um, everything else.
I learned how to drive in Port au Prince today. Thought I had or was going to die several times, but somehow those trucks missed me by a few divine centimeters.
School is out for Christmas, which means that kids will stop spelling my name wrong when they write it with discarded chalk on my front door.
We have a new sewing machine, so there's one more thing I don't know how to do that I'll learn by causing various physical injuries and trying it different next time.
One of our goats finally gave birth. I didn't know baby goats were so cute. He's a little guy with fluffy white fur. Closest thing I'll have to a snowball this winter, so I'm resisting the urge to throw him.
Love.
-C
Friday, December 5, 2008
The Nonsense of Haiti
Yesterday, right here in our province of Archaia, something completely useless and desperately tragic happened. We all know how important food is to these people, who have to search and scrape for every morsel. To parents it's even more of a life-and-death endeavor to feed their kids.
In a school about a 20 minutes' drive from Carries, a woman had two sons whose food she gave them was being taken and eaten every day by a group of other boys, who by the way didn't have any food for themselves. Instead of getting angry when she learned of it, the woman just got evil. She didn't speak with the school directors or teachers or simply bring it to their attention even once. Rather, she saved up a few bucks and bought some poison, put it in the food and sent it with her boys to school. And by the end of the school day yesterday, five boys were dead. Five boys. They not in trouble or apologizing. They're gone. The school was not told until afterward what had been happening.
These are the kind of hopeless things that happen every day in this place. It seems so often that people don't think, they just react. They don't consider consequences. Their actions are almost always simply selfish and self-serving.
Now, of course, there are splendid exceptions to that. There are people with hope in this country. But in the shadow of a towering wave of enemy attacks in the form of deceit and selfishness, hope seems like only a ripple.
Then again, that IS how God does his business, isn't it? He makes ripples into waves- earth-crushing, overcoming, immovable waves. And it's our prayer and expectation that He does just that.
In a school about a 20 minutes' drive from Carries, a woman had two sons whose food she gave them was being taken and eaten every day by a group of other boys, who by the way didn't have any food for themselves. Instead of getting angry when she learned of it, the woman just got evil. She didn't speak with the school directors or teachers or simply bring it to their attention even once. Rather, she saved up a few bucks and bought some poison, put it in the food and sent it with her boys to school. And by the end of the school day yesterday, five boys were dead. Five boys. They not in trouble or apologizing. They're gone. The school was not told until afterward what had been happening.
These are the kind of hopeless things that happen every day in this place. It seems so often that people don't think, they just react. They don't consider consequences. Their actions are almost always simply selfish and self-serving.
Now, of course, there are splendid exceptions to that. There are people with hope in this country. But in the shadow of a towering wave of enemy attacks in the form of deceit and selfishness, hope seems like only a ripple.
Then again, that IS how God does his business, isn't it? He makes ripples into waves- earth-crushing, overcoming, immovable waves. And it's our prayer and expectation that He does just that.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Busy Days in Haiti
Can I be honest and say that I'd rather be Haiti busy than in-the-States-for-Christmas busy. I have no problem with spending my Christmas here without the shopping (I hate shopping), and the cold (I hate being cold) and the ice (I hate falling in the ice).
Last year I lost count of how many times I fell in the snow or ice. The funniest of them was worthy of a Funniest Videos prize (let's be honest- it doesn't take much to be on Funniest Videos). I was walking to the car when my brother picked me up from work and right about the time I was passing the side view mirror, CRASH! Yep, that's me. My brother said he heard the squeak of my fingers trying to grip the hood as I went down. I was there one moment, gone the next. No fun. And I don't miss it.
I wouldn't mind being around for the birth of my first niece, though, which is happening a week from today. My big family isn't too thrilled about me missing it either. It WILL be a bit different, but wouldn't give this up.
Besides, I kind of like the idea of taking a walk along the beach on Christmas day. Better than losing feeling in my digits when I walk out to the car.
More soon.
-C
P.S. I finally realized that it was nearing Christmas the other day when the sun set and it got so cool that I almost and to put on a long sleeve shirt! Whew, that was close.
Last year I lost count of how many times I fell in the snow or ice. The funniest of them was worthy of a Funniest Videos prize (let's be honest- it doesn't take much to be on Funniest Videos). I was walking to the car when my brother picked me up from work and right about the time I was passing the side view mirror, CRASH! Yep, that's me. My brother said he heard the squeak of my fingers trying to grip the hood as I went down. I was there one moment, gone the next. No fun. And I don't miss it.
I wouldn't mind being around for the birth of my first niece, though, which is happening a week from today. My big family isn't too thrilled about me missing it either. It WILL be a bit different, but wouldn't give this up.
Besides, I kind of like the idea of taking a walk along the beach on Christmas day. Better than losing feeling in my digits when I walk out to the car.
More soon.
-C
P.S. I finally realized that it was nearing Christmas the other day when the sun set and it got so cool that I almost and to put on a long sleeve shirt! Whew, that was close.
Monday, November 24, 2008
My Bananas Are Thirsty
It's funny all the random things I'm learning to do here. I have waded through a book on raising goats, because I had to figure out how to remove their horns. They really do get nasty with each other with those darned horns.
Not only that, but we also have this yard full of baby banana trees, which, by the way, need water by the bucket-load. . . lots of water. This means that rain is a splendid thing for those poor bananas. But since the hurricanes ceased, there hasn't been a whole lot of that. Now, everyone else is pretty thankful for this. The people who lost their stuff and/or families and/or homes and/or livelihood in the flooding in September- they fight tears and trembling fear when they see or feel a drop of rain. And at that thought, I could care less about the friggin' bananas.
The only creature indifferent to the rain, or any other circumstance for that matter, is the rat. And Haiti has more than its share of those. I am now the household pro at catching little mice. . . and quite large ones (the kind that eat poor little cats for breakfast. . .yes, quite large). One day we cleaned out a depo and there were so many, I had to give up all of my humane methods and get the machette. I told you this tool is a catch-all for Haitian work, and indeed it is. I killed ten rats that day. Wow.
And then it was back to the paperwork. The truest thing about this work is that it never, ever, ever runs out. And all the little things, like rats or goats or any of the other random things that have to be attended to, are at times a hindrance to getting the "real" work done, such as time with the kids or getting the paperwork done or contacting other churches and schools. It's truly beyond me how any of it gets done at all- petty tasks or real ones. I've never known a more perfect example of living a life that "rolls with the punches."
Random or not, I do love it. Actually, I think the random factor is what I love the most about it. The rule for my entire life has been this: I'm not great at anything, but I can do a satisfactory job at a lot of random things. Jack of all trades and expert at none. Yep, that's me.
Love.
Not only that, but we also have this yard full of baby banana trees, which, by the way, need water by the bucket-load. . . lots of water. This means that rain is a splendid thing for those poor bananas. But since the hurricanes ceased, there hasn't been a whole lot of that. Now, everyone else is pretty thankful for this. The people who lost their stuff and/or families and/or homes and/or livelihood in the flooding in September- they fight tears and trembling fear when they see or feel a drop of rain. And at that thought, I could care less about the friggin' bananas.
The only creature indifferent to the rain, or any other circumstance for that matter, is the rat. And Haiti has more than its share of those. I am now the household pro at catching little mice. . . and quite large ones (the kind that eat poor little cats for breakfast. . .yes, quite large). One day we cleaned out a depo and there were so many, I had to give up all of my humane methods and get the machette. I told you this tool is a catch-all for Haitian work, and indeed it is. I killed ten rats that day. Wow.
And then it was back to the paperwork. The truest thing about this work is that it never, ever, ever runs out. And all the little things, like rats or goats or any of the other random things that have to be attended to, are at times a hindrance to getting the "real" work done, such as time with the kids or getting the paperwork done or contacting other churches and schools. It's truly beyond me how any of it gets done at all- petty tasks or real ones. I've never known a more perfect example of living a life that "rolls with the punches."
Random or not, I do love it. Actually, I think the random factor is what I love the most about it. The rule for my entire life has been this: I'm not great at anything, but I can do a satisfactory job at a lot of random things. Jack of all trades and expert at none. Yep, that's me.
Love.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Joy of Giving
One of the things I love most about this place and this work is the joy of giving things to people I would in no other circumstances have the ability to give. Such as . . .
The only guy who knows how to play the guitar in this joint came and tuned my guitar for me, because I still can't. I gave him, as a "thanks dude," a bottle of Tampico and some mosquito coils.
A woman came from the mountains with a genuine request. She can't afford school. Her husband left her and their boys because he was afraid of the spirit in their village (lots of people were committing suicide), she was sick and her boys needed to go to school. "Can you please help me?" she asked. Well, sure we can darlin'. Her boys are both in 2nd grade. They come every day. They take good notes. They are very well behaved. So we provide them with all that they need. And their mother smiles a little more often now.
A kid came with 3 lips. His bottom one was made into two when he fell from a coconut tree. We gave him stitches.
A young woman came to my door repeating something over and over, but I couldn't understand. I told her to sit and speak slower, but to no avail. She just kept talking. I gave her a smile, a nod, a coke and a few confusing minutes of my time. When she left, I also gave her an apology. "Sorry, lady. I still got nothin'."
TO BE CONTINUED
The only guy who knows how to play the guitar in this joint came and tuned my guitar for me, because I still can't. I gave him, as a "thanks dude," a bottle of Tampico and some mosquito coils.
A woman came from the mountains with a genuine request. She can't afford school. Her husband left her and their boys because he was afraid of the spirit in their village (lots of people were committing suicide), she was sick and her boys needed to go to school. "Can you please help me?" she asked. Well, sure we can darlin'. Her boys are both in 2nd grade. They come every day. They take good notes. They are very well behaved. So we provide them with all that they need. And their mother smiles a little more often now.
A kid came with 3 lips. His bottom one was made into two when he fell from a coconut tree. We gave him stitches.
A young woman came to my door repeating something over and over, but I couldn't understand. I told her to sit and speak slower, but to no avail. She just kept talking. I gave her a smile, a nod, a coke and a few confusing minutes of my time. When she left, I also gave her an apology. "Sorry, lady. I still got nothin'."
TO BE CONTINUED
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
