This past week was a little crazy and crowded at the Guest House...but oh so much fun! There was very large team, some from Arizona, some from Ohio, and two from Georgia. We did a lot of work out at the OK, traveled in new ways and multiple vehicles, learned a lot, served a lot, loved on kids, and got to know one another. I was able to really connect with a few group members, leading to long early morning and late night conversations. I mean, some nights I even stayed up past 9! Haha! :)
Monday
was quite the day. I [unexpectedly] got to visit the juvenile men’s prison. We
all got out to the OK to start working for the day, but a small group of men
were going with Moise to visit the prison. I was unprepared, dressed in work shorts
and a t-shirt, but with the help of Vanessa, I was able to find a dress out at
the OK! She ironed it for me and off we went!
Boys
in this prison range in age from 9-18. I was shocked by the difference in “living
conditions” compared to the women’s prison. Mind you, the conditions were not “good”
by any means, but very different from what I’ve seen at the women’s prison. The
cells had many bunk beds, whereas the women’s prison has very few, if any beds.
It appeared as if most of the women sleep on the floor, on top of all their
personal belongings. The women prisoners wore color-coded uniforms, the boys
didn’t appear to have a uniform. The cells were still crowded with prisoners,
but the entire place just seemed “different”…It looked different, it smelled
different, it felt different. I am seriously at a loss for words when it comes
to describing or comparing the two. I think I was most shocked by how young
some of the boys looked. I knew the boys would be young before arriving, but
actually seeing their faces broke my heart. Many of the women appear to have a
tough exterior [which my heart still broke for], where as some of the boys I
saw looked so young and naïve…maybe naïve isn’t the correct word. Maybe I
should just stick with “young”. We passed out bread much like we do at the
women’s prison…except it is not buttered or wrapped in a napkin…but they get
two pieces, whereas the women get one (unless they are pregnant).
We
visited the Ryan Epps Orphanage later in the afternoon. It is the nicest
orphanage I’ve had the opportunity to visit here. There is a school on-site, the
bedrooms are clean, the beds are nice, and the rooms are not overcrowded. The
orphanage was started by an American woman who lost her son (Ryan Epps) and
wanted to start a home for children. She started it about 40 years ago. In the
last 15 or so years, she formally put a board together to make things work. The
board members have come together over the years to support and create what’s
there now. One of the kids that came through this orphanage ended up getting
his education and then came back as an adult to run the place with his wife. He
took care of most of the finances and was the one who picked up most of the
supplies such as food and other basic needs. About 3 months ago he went to get
a few thousand dollars out of the bank, as usual, to get the supplies they
needed. Someone followed them after leaving the bank and shot both him and the
driver. The man’s son and daughter were in college over in the DR at the time
and have since come back to help maintain the orphanage. Recently Frank has set
up the opportunity for them to receive a monthly allotment of Feed the Hunger
food, so that will help a lot until the board figures out the best next steps
to take.
The
children sang to us, the team passed out some toys and goodies, all the
children got dresses or shorts that some of the teams brought from their
churches back home, and we spent time playing outside, painting fingernails,
and getting hair braided! Tamara braided my entire head in cornrows. It’s not
my best look…but it was a great time to sit and chat with her!
We were getting
ready to head out around 5 or so and the clouds were awfully dark…the thunder
started and we were pulling out at 5:15. We “only” had 10 miles to travel, as
we were only 3 miles past the OK and the OK is only 7 miles from the Guest
House. We weren’t even to the OK when the rain started. It came down…hard.
Storms always make me emotional here. While I’m thankful for the cool
temperatures that come with the rain, my heart breaks for those stuck in the
storms. If you followed my emails last summer, you know what I’m talking about.
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| The rain just getting started... |
If you weren’t able to follow my journey last year…here’s an excerpt from a
rainy night that I’ll never forget:
7/10/2015
Haiti Day 21
“Tonight I sit here
typing on the upstairs porch, enjoying the lovely thunderstorm. It's the
coolest temperature since I've been here and the breeze is wonderful. It's
blowing just hard enough to sprinkle rain on my legs. This is the
most enjoyable weather I've experienced since I've been here for 21 days. While
I sit here typing on my computer and enjoying one of my favorite things
(evening thunderstorms on the porch...almost makes me feel at home in Carolina)
my heart just breaks to pieces. My heart breaks for many reasons. I think of
all the people not only in Haiti, but all over the world who don't have
adequate shelter during rain. I think of those precious children literally
a block down the broken dirt road from me that are more than likely locked up
in their overcrowded rooms/bunk beds with only half a roof right now...with no
adult/parent figure there to hold them through the thunder and lightning if
they're scared...It's so easy to sit and think only of myself. How I'm enjoying
this. But I'm only enjoying it because of the luxury I have to stay out of the rain.
I think about the fact that my computer cost more than most Haitians make in an
entire year. I think about the fact that if I were out in this kind of weather
back home...and I'd probably be complaining to myself if I were stuck trying to
leave the grocery store in a downpour of rain...like happens to me so many
times...even though it's only a short walk to my car (or maybe long in some
people's minds...yet when I hear that there are pregnant Haitian women that
walk 7 HOURS to get to a clinic a few times a week...a walk to the furthest
part of the parking lot doesn't seem like much more than an inch). Anyway...so
it's a short/long walk depending on your opinion to my car...a car that I own.
A car that I can get into with all of my food for the week and drive to my
home. My safe home with windows and doors and a roof. My home with a
functioning bathroom and running water. My home that has AC. But yet, if I were
back in the states, trying to leave the store, or go anywhere in a storm, I'd
be bummed that I had to get wet, even if I had the luxury of using an umbrella.
When it begins to rain here, the taptaps literally get loaded down
with people trying to get out of the rain. You see Haitians trying to pack
up their roadside shops as quickly as they can so their merchandise, their
livelihood, doesn't get ruined. You see Haitians crowding under tiny broken
tarp "shelters" attached to long branches. And I would be worrying
about my hair getting wet. These are tough things to think about. They are good
for me to experience. But I want to do so much to help. So my heart breaks for
the fact that I can't provide shelter to everyone getting wet tonight. That I
can't love on those babies who are afraid of the thunder and lightning…”
Reflecting
on these hard thoughts is one thing…being in the middle of the storm and seeing
the people is another. The streets start to flood immediately. The trash rises
up out of the ditches and comes out of the corner. I hated it. Not for me
sitting in the cab of a hot truck, but for those who struggle through this as
part of normal life. We sat, stuck in traffic for 4 hours. We finally arrived
back at the Guest House almost exactly at 9:15. No dinner for me – I went
straight to bed. My emotions were shot.
The
rest of the week included work at the OK, spending time with the Men’s
Discipleship guys, amazing Haitian food, the Tin Market, the park, the women’s
prison, devotions with John & Beth, HDC, an attempt to go to the market,
the mass grave, Tigé’s place, Pizza Amour, three different airport trips, and
more!
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| Tigé & his son |
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| Red starfish are everywhere! |
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| Taking the boat back out to fish! |
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The little girls and women all got
dresses...this guy wanted one too!
Then he said, "Photo!" |
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These friends of Tigé are
quite the characters.
They are so much fun.
They loved the camera! |
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This was right AFTER he
stuck his slobbery fist in my mouth!
|
Some Yummy Haitian Meals...
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fried accra, avocado, rice,
beans, & red sauce |
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fried aacra, avocado,
mais moulu, mango, & bread |
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fritay (fried food): plantains,
accra, rice & beans,
mango salsa, & bread |
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Much like John, babies
love chicken too...
even especially at 9 AM! |
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A Haitian meal I decided to pass on!
Pierre was so nice to offer me a bite...
I'm pretty adventurous, but something that
still has a toe attached is not my cup of tea... |
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| Haitian spaghetti with hotdogs & ketchup |
Only in Haiti, during a "meeting of the minds" out at Rebuild Globally does this happen...Linsey, these are for YOU! :)
Random Snapshots from the Week
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Kalipso drove us for a bit!
{insert big eyed emoji} |
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One of our many forms
of transportation! |
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They let me wire some of
the lighting at the WEC! |
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| Hitching a quick ride! |
