My Haitian Family

There's a verse in the bible that says, "God sets the lonely in families." I prayed this verse before I left the States because I hated the idea of leaving my family behind. And God has been faithful. Several Haitians in my life are treating me like family.

The Uncles
- The night watchman -- Each night he greets me and asks how I am. Then if I'm walking from one house on the compound to another, he will get his big spotlight and shine it on my path until I'm in my door. He's kind of like a protective uncle.

- The two sailors -- They have very different personalities. The one is small and chatty. He keeps some of his boat stuff at my house so he comes often to pick up stuff as he needs it. And each time he talks to me in Creole, and laughs and laughs as I try to understand. He kind of picks on me a bit and really gets a kick out of it when I have a language epiphany and say, "Oh, mwen konpran."
The other sailor is a strong silent type. The kind who holds the door for you and grabs your hand to help you get safely onto the boat. But he too picks on me. The other day he tried to tell me something. I didn't understand, so he laughed and laughed and lightly grabbed my wrist. (this would be something like a mix between an American knee slap and cheek pinch)

The Moms
- A cook and a nurse -- My friend's mom was cooking at my house the other day with one of the nurses. As they cooked they of course asked me if I was married. When I said no, I explained that I will not marry just any man. They both understood and said, "We will pray for you to find a husband." There was definitey a lot of motherly tenderness behind those words.

Some Dads and a brother
- The other missionaries -- They have pretty much fathered me. Before heading to the States Pastor Dan was pretty protective of me, giving me advice he'd give to his daughters. And Butch will walk me to my house at night if he thinks a stranger is on the compound.
He and Zach (a father/brother team) have also had to rescue me twice this week. Once when I locked myself out of my house and the other time when I locked myself in my bathroom. (the bathroom is a good story for another time.)

Sisters
- The women in my English club -- These women really treat me like sisters. They tell me they worried about me when the other missionaries went to PAP and left me here. And they wondered if I was ok in the thunderstorm. They also make sure to give me advice about who I should and should not talk to, and they help me with a lot of the stuff you talk to sisters about. :)

My Extended Family
- There's also some extended family around here, you know the third cousins and such. They're the ones I see once in a while but really enjoy. Like the laundry lady who shows up behind my house and yells for me through the windows. She's small , round, and spunky. She's friendly ike a great-aunt, but a fierce worker who would do anything for her now grown kids.

I could go on, but you get the picture. "He sets the lonely in families," and makes them lonely no more. :)

Trash

This evening as I went back to my room, a sound behind my house caught my attention. I looked out my windows to see what it was. I expected to see the pack of stray dogs that frequent the trash pit (which is also just behind my house). Instead I saw two teenage boys, running, backs bent, heads nervously turned in my direction.

The one boy had in his hand a white trash bag. I knew it was mine because when I threw it out earlier this afternoon, there were no other bags in the pit. I watched as they carried my trash to the back wall, then dumped its contents on the ground.

As saw them sorting through the trash with their eyes, I felt like they were sorting through me. Guiltily I wondered, what had I thrown away that week? An empty milk box, rotten salad, a couple of mango pits.

I was ashamed by the amount of food that had rotted in my fridge before making it into anyone's stomach. Would these boys take some of that food? Maybe I shouldn't have thrown that out yet. But soon they too had determined that my trash really was trash. Then they hopped back over the fence leaving my trash on the ground by the back wall.

The whole episode took less than a minute, but I can't stop thinking about those two boys. Why did they dig through my trash? What did they hope to find? How often do they sneak into the trash pit?

A little gift

Today I listened to worship music with my friend. It was the neatest thing because she started try to explain her worship experience to me, and neither one of us could quite put into words what happens when you sing a song and your heart connects with God.

Then a few minutes later a song came on that I recognized. It was "I Can Only Imagine," but all the words were in French. As it played she roughly translated for me, and said how much she enjoyed the song. It was so beautiful to hear her say, "when I am with God, I can only imagine." She spoke softly and deliberately, and looked up toward heaven when she said it.

When I tried to answer back, "Yes I understand," I felt tears coming to my eyes because I really did understand what she meant and I knew we were both at that moment feeling near to God.

This was the first time that I have connected with someone here (other than a missionary) on a spiritual level. It was a huge gift!

I cannot wait to develop my Creole so I can really begin to know people's hearts.

Places

These past two weeks there have been a couple of teams here, so I have had several opportunities to get out and see a little more of La Gonave. And it is beautiful.

The Saline

This past week I helped one team with a VBS they were hosting. They hosted it in one of the neediest areas in town, the Saline or the salt flats. This area lies along the coast and floods often from heavy rains and high tides. The houses there are crumbling from the salt water, and there is always trash and waste in the streets.

But the people are beautiful. The children were great fun as they sang each day, and the pastor was a huge encouragement. We could tell by his big grin and bubbly spirit that he loves God and his congregation.

The team also went back twice to show The Passion of the Christ, and several people accepted Christ at both showings. This is exciting because the need here is so great. We can give away food, clothes, and money every day, and still people go hungry. This can get discouraging, but when you see people coming to know Jesus, it's a good reminder that God's the only one who can meet all our needs.

As a side note, the salt flats is quickly becoming my favorite areas in town because there are so many people to talk to there.

Church

Last Sunday I got to go to church in a small fishing village. We had to take a boat to get there. Then once we arrived, the water was too shallow for our boat to pull up to the dock. Another small boat had to row out and pick us up. It took 3 boats to get us back after church.

But going was a blessing because it showed me another side of Haiti. At one point the secretary was reporting on the monthly offering. One week it was less than 10 goudes, which is about 25 cents! I couldn't help but wonder if the people in the church were giving out of their poverty like the widow gospels.

The Sand Bar

There is a big sand bar just 10 minutes from the coast. We often go there to get away. Well last time we went, I put on goggles and looked at the coral wreath for the 1st time. It was incredible. There were tiny blue, orange, and neon yellow fish everywhere, and waves of sea grass covered the ocean floor. For the first time ever I wished I could breathe underwater. (Next time I'll take a snorkle.)

Mache -- to walk

"Ou vle mache avek mwen apre travay ou?" I carefully pronounced the words I had study all morning, and double checked my note card to make sure I'd said it right. "Do you want walk with me after work?"

I was talking to the only Christian girl my age that I know here, and this was my first real attempt at friendship. I desperately wanted to make sense. Even more than that I wanted to hang out and have a conversation that went beyond hello-how-are-you. My palms sweated a bit as I waited a milisecond for her response.

"Wi."

Whew.

I was pumped at the prospect of having a real friend. And laughed for a few minutes with Marline as we tried to figure out what time to meet and realized that neither one of us is very good at telling time in the other's language.

We did manage to set a time to hang out, and went walking last Thursday for a few hours. It was the highlight of my week. I got to walk through the market, linger in the plaza, and see the Wesleyan school, greeting Marline's friends and relatives all the while.

The fact that neither of us knew all the right words didn't matter (We both carried Creol-English dictionaries as we walked) nor did it matter that men yelled out comments every where we went (I'm still new enough in the community to be a spectacle.) Marline treated me like a friend, and we had a good walk.

Thank you God for a new friend. :)

karate

Last night I was taking my trash to the trash pit, and I saw 8 or 9 hermit crabs on the path. All of them were crawling away from me, scared. Then when I got to the pit I saw a stray dog scrounging around and several lizards scurrying out of the trash. And I thought, oh yeah, I guess I do live in Haiti.



It's funny how quickly I've gotten used to seeing palm trees, palmettos, cacti, and cocroaches. The sounds of the birds and Creole conversations are becoming so familiar that I forget that I'm in another country. I am used to the smell of frying food and burning trash, and I hardly notice the man who shouts on the distant loudspeaker each day.



I still don't know what that sound is, though I hear it everyday...It comes from town. I hear a lot of stuff I don't understand. For example last night, it sounded like someone was holding a karate class just over the wall. I could hear an instructor shouting out commands and a group of people yelling out staccotto responses. Do you think Haitians take karate classes?

Culture Shock

Today I went to the market for the first time. Two other missionaries (Maya and Beth) were taking me so that I could get some of my groceries. As we walked up to the maze of tents and people I thought back to the other markets I'd been to in Guatemala and Swaziland. This market, like those ones was full of vendors selling everything from toothpaste to fish to sandals.

Sheets draped over pieces of wood created a droopy ceiling much like the market place in Disney's Aladin. And men and women sat Indian style on tarps beside their fruit, or they sat on chairs behind their fruit.

As our small group walked through people seemed to lean forward and call to us from every direciton. I could only guess at what they were saying. At one point Maya turned to a group of young people and said in Creole "We speak Creole too." (This much I understood.)

She later explained that she heard the people making fun of us so she wanted to let them know she understood. I watched in awe of her confidence. In the mean time, Beth led us through the tents and explained what could be found in each section. She greeted several of her friends along the way and occassionally asked in Creole "Cambien goude pou sa?" (how much is this.)

And for the first time all week, I really started to freak out inside. What am I doing here? This is what I have to do every time I want an onion?

I wasn't just freaking out b/c I had no clue what was happening, though that was a part of it. I was freaking out b/c I knew I was starting to let go of everything that's been normal and starting to create a new normal.

Someday, I like Beth and Maya will go to the market by myself to pick up a pepper or an onion and to chat with the women working there, and I won't think anything of it.

(Afterward: As soon as I got back from the market, I had to put on some music, fold laundry, and sweep my house. It was very therapeutic for me to realize there are some small things that are still familiar.)