Returning To The Mission Field

If it was possible I would combine my two kinds of enjoyment together, stateside and overseas, and have a perfect sense of "enjoyment".

It's been a few weeks since I've left Haiti. I've had many a-hot showers and lots of electricity. I've walked to the store to buy a milkshake and munched on some gooey, cheesy pizza. I've enjoyed my time here!

It's a different kind of enjoyment though.

It's not the same kind of joy that one gets when they wake up every morning at 5 to bath the orphanage kids to get them to school. It can't be compared to the fun one has when all the kids are in bed and you sit around the table with the Haitian staff and sing hymns. It's not the same.

It's not hard to smile when you have a platter full of great restaurant food sitting in front of you or when you spend time with your friend you haven't seen in so many months. In fact, I've had a lot of laughs and smiles theses past few weeks. I've found that I do indeed like it here in the US!  So what do I do? With two happinesses (not a real word) to seek?

I enjoy my life here with all its wonders and joys, and work hard to, one day, visit that other "enjoyment" in my future.

Am I a Fungi?

This morning, when I was taking a walk I saw mushrooms growing out of a tree. I looked at them and tried to think of a deep, profound metaphor for the fungi-growing-out-of-the-foot-of-the-tree image before me. Nothing came up.

So that was this morning....

The entire day passed by. Then....

BANG! It hit me.

Am I a mushroom? Or am I a tree? 

Am I a fungi stuck on someone else preventing them from being all they can be; taking the life that they should have, keeping them from growing the way they were meant? Or am I a beautiful piece of greenery striving on it's own to be strong and to eventually provide fruit?

Frozen Fingers Make Good Writers

What's cold, smiles and fills out a ton of applications?

A young "ex-pat" who has recently re-entered her country and is looking for a job.

She learned a few lessons today:

One of the applications filled today.

- It's the year 2012 and 89% of all applications should be done online. (I found this out after walking 25 minutes, in the cold, to the shopping center at which I was planning on applying, at least I got in some exercise). 


- I need to be over 18 to work at a warehouse. (I guess putting teens and saws in the same building is dangerous??) 


- After just one day of job hunting. I found some promising places. (Thus, I'm not understanding the whole "I can't get a job" thing that I've heard some say.) 

It's a matter of determination and self motivation. I'm not an expert in job hunting or anything, but it's easy to find an excuse for something that just takes some effort to get done. If you go our there, in the ice, with a grin on your face and fill out some papers you may end up with some money in your pocket later on.

My Toilet Paper is a Blanket

After dismounting the plane from Port-au-Prince, Haiti to Newark, New Jersey:

I’m standing in line to go to the immigration desk I see a lady directing people to their corresponding line.  My first thought: “She looks like a clown”, with her heavy eye makeup and 5-tones-too-dark lipstick. As I looked at her I saw that she had both fake eyelashes and fake hair. This is America? No. America can’t be summed up in one artificial woman.

Fast forward a few more hours. I’m sitting at the toilet. My arm reaches for the toilet paper; I grab a hold of it, “Gosh! I’m about to wipe with a blanket!” The toilet paper was so thick, full and plush I didn’t know what to do. I rerolled it and ripped off two dainty squares, one. by. one.  

Looks like I’ve come to a land where we have more than enough…and maybe, sometimes, too much; too much makeup, too much synthetic stuff and even too much toilet paper. 

Outfits, Eggs and Expectations

I've chosen my outfit for tomorrow's voyage back to the freezing state of Pennsylvania. A tank top, one t-shirt, one heavy shirt, one pullover hoody and one zipper down sweater. Yes, I passionately dislike the cold. In fact, not many people like the cold. Another thing people don't enjoy is lowering their standards and changing their expectations.

Whooooa! I know I caught you off guard with that one. Let me back up a little.


Along with thinking about what to cloth myself with, today, I also thought about relationships and what we, as people, expect out of them.

Gosh, okay maybe you still don't see the connection. My deepest apologies for the inevitable confusion.

Really, from the start we have this idea, this image in our head about what we want, need, and desire in someone else. And then, we do this freakish "egg-hunt" for someone to be ALL that. Then there are times when we find an "egg" (even if we're not looking) and they meet almost all the criteria but are shy a few for the major, ermmmm, elements. So what do we do? Toss the egg? Keep it and change it? Find another one? Sadly, all I did was think today, not find answers.


I do know that tomorrow I will experience coldness against my cheeks and therefore I'm preparing for it with many layer of clothing.

He Just Can't Say It...

Today was spent finishing up some things; getting things packed (and not taking them back out of the bag because it needs to be used for another few days). I mean zipping-up-the-bag kind of packing, inventory of supplies for after we leave and making sure everyone is prepared for our departure.

Finishing.

On an unrelated, yet related note, there is a word that Leonard (4) has never been able to utter in his own native tongue. We have tried on multiple occasions to have him say it but to no avail. He persistently can’t say the word “fini”. Instead he says, “finish” - its English translation. The Haitian born, Creole speakin’ little boy can’t say “fini”.

For example he'd say:

“Nou finish manje” (We’re done eating)

Or

“Film la finish” (The movie is over)

The dominant language spoken here is Creole, not English, yet he still manages to say, “finish”.  It’s a curious situation.  It’s something about Leonard that’s special that we’ll miss as we finish our job at this orphanage. 

Responding To Rhetorical Questions

You know when the preacher is speaking and he asks a question, within his message, that's intended to remain unanswered by the crowd? 


Well, today I sat in service with Gladimy (5) sitting at my left and Leonard (4) on my lap. The sanctuary was packed with quake survivors all fanning themselves with their eyes fixed on the pastor. We listened as the pastor talked about the earthquake two years ago. He shared the stories of those who lost their lives and those who were spared with injuries. He went on to preach about the favor and grace that God had on those in the room, having protected them. The message continued and he started to talk about eternity: 

Le nou mouri kote nou prale? (When you die where are you going?) 

Within the same moment Gladimy peeps up and says, 

"Nan syel la!" (To heaven!)

"Um oops!",I thought, as heads turned to look at the little boy in the back who actually answered the question that was clearly rhetorical! 


It was both humorous and nifty at the same time. I hugged Gladimy - who didn't realize, until after he blurted out, that he wasn't supposed to answer the question. Gladimy knows where he's going when he dies. Do you?

"Out of the Same Cup"

We had just finished talking to the staff about our moving back to the United States. We talked rules, expectations, and guidelines.

There were tears in some eyes.

"Nou bwe nan memm gode a" (We drink out of the same cup) is what she said as we were finishing up the meeting.


In translation, she continued and she laid a hand on my waist: "When I came to work here I was prepared for anything. I didn't know the type of treatment I would receive. Later, I learned. Haitians and Whites sit together, eat together, live together. Even if I worked for a Haitian family doing the work I do (she takes care of children) I wouldn't be allowed to sit at this table with them.

Our eyes grew wet with tears.

Another spoke up: "I remember I had to cook the rice, Elijah (my ten year old brother) came and helped me cook rice. I remember him saying, 'I can do this, I won't get burned.' we work together. I'm going to miss this family very much.....I'll miss you all very much.

The other: "I will pray God's will for your lives..."

Encouragement and unity flooded the room. We had become a family here. A lovely mixture of Haitians and Americans, working together to serve the children. As the days grow shorter we have found "our greatest victory" and passing the baton is made easy, through trust in God and one another.

Haiti Made Me:

laugh

cry

sing

dance

reflect

run

fall

hold on

let go

grow

learn

strong

compare

change

trust

contrast

think

forget

confused

remember

fight

understand

give up

confront

hide

joke

contemplate

realize

decide

choose

bold

brave

appreciative

ambitious

cautious

free.

Just doing some reflecting....

5 more days. 

Over Sentimental

Letting the kids know we are leaving

Tomorrow begins the one week count down to my move back to the good ol' United States. Packing, is a funny task. I still need to use the stuff that I should be packing, so really, packing will never be completely done until the day I leave. I have begun the task of sorting through my belongings into two categories; things to take right away and things I can wait a few months to see again. I look through my stuff and decide what items hold memories and what is just a little souvenir. The whole thing has its emotional moments. I've got that shoe box stuffed with all the little "Mesi" notes and pictures of flowers. That pink-construction-paper-heart that reads "I love you" in glitter glue. The rubber band that was intended to be a gift. Ah! I glare at my memories and (instead of crying my eyes out) I say to myself,
       "Gosh, girl, you are way too sentimental."
But, no, honestly, these girls and boys are so strong, independent, and have been taught the best. I know very well that they can and will make it without me waking them up every morning to go to school and, at meal times, telling them to go wash their hands. In fact, they might feel a little bit relieved after I head out! Plus they know, Estherline, Gladimy, Leonard and James know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are loved. Thus the "mission" is complete, there is peace and it's time to go back to America.