My First Haitian Painting

I went with the work team from Stillwater, PA back up to the Baptist Mission. I bought my first painting to hang in my room. In a land full of color where most of the paintings confuse the eye with the vibrancy of their colors I bought a black and white one. Go figure. But it was too striking to pass up.

UNICEF Kids Festival

Yesterday, UNICEF put on a big children’s festival in Port-au-Prince. We were able to take all the orphans. Yes, all 25 of the girls from House of Hope were able to go. They were so excited to go somewhere new. They have to stay behind the walls and razor wire at the orphanage most of the time. Angelo, the Haitian manager at the house, was very excited. He told me that the food and everything was being paid for by the UN and that it would be great for the girls to get out and see something new.
So in the morning a huge bus maneuvered down our dirt and rock road. Only an expert driver could have turned a bus around at the corner in front of the orphanage, but our driver did it. (To drive in Haiti you have to have no fear and be willing to put your vehicle within an inch of walls, trees, cars and people usually at speed.) We loaded up the girls and were off. I watched the girls’ faces as we traveled along. They were seeing new sights even around the city most of them were born in.We arrived at what looked to be fairground and indeed a fair was going on. Booths were selling things. A big stage was set up. We were escorted to a tent and told to sit down. We were surrounded by children from all over the city, from schools, from orphanages as well as what appeared to be troops like the Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts. Probably several thousand all told.We sat through an entire Catholic mass performed by the bishop of Port-au-Prince, I believe. I was surprised that they were allowed to give communion at a UN event. But here it was. During the mass a lady sang several songs with some hardcore vibrato. Then bands played, skits were put on, children sang, jugglers juggled fire and VIPs spoke. The kids were so excited when the guys were juggling fire. Scharelne’s eyes were the size of quarters. It’s funny because to me the jugglers weren’t that good. They were just a couple of kids with flaming batons who could barely juggle. One even grabbed the flaming end of the baton once. He got rid of quick to be sure. But seeing it through the girls’ eyes it was like I was seeing jugglers for the first time.Once they played a song that I guess everyone in Haiti knows. Everyone knew the words. Everyone was dancing and waving the Haitian flag. I’ve never really cared for rap music, but Creole has a fascinating lyrical quality to it and the beat was infectious. I was up on my feet as well. The energy from the crowd was amazing. Not like I’ve felt at concerts in the States. When I worked camera at the Ichthus Music Festival and I looked out over the crowd while POD or Project 86 were playing. I felt fear. But here I felt joy.That was all the good. Now, for the bad.

It was blazing hot. The staff was handing out water, but they were skipping us. So I had to go over and demand some for the girls. I yelled, “Timou m’wen bizwen glo!” which roughly translated means, “My children need water.” So I got the kids water, but there wasn’t enough for me. As for food they started handing out croissants. This time just went over and took them for the guy who was passing them out. He looked at a bit funny, but I was in no mood to play around. We had been there for hours and the girls had had nothing to eat. After the girls ate, Vivine and Lolo fell asleep on my lap. I was incredibly hot and I hadn’t had any water since we left the house. I became light headed and dreamy. I saw clowns running and jumping. I thought the heat was making me crazy. Then I realized they were real clowns. I felt only slightly better.Angelo had left his wife and me in charge of the girls while he ran back to the orphanage to take care of some things. When he returned I told him I hadn’t had any water. He went and bought me some. Since I’ve been in Haiti I’ve avoided drinking water out of a plastic bag (that’s how it’s sold in Haiti, just a little bag of water). But no longer. I wiped off the plastic with my shirt, said a prayer and bit into it. Oh, it was so good. But the girls hadn’t any in awhile so I gave some of them most of it. Angelo then went to check and see why there hadn’t been more food given out. He came back furious. He said there was tons of food like chicken, rice and plantain. But, the staff wasn’t handing it out. I asked why and he said because they were going to take it and sell it after the kids left. We started to leave, but Angelo kept yelling at every staff person we passed. Finally, some high up lady came. She took us over to a huge truck that was loaded with all kinds of stuff. She gave the girls each some cookies and a bag of toys. When other people saw us getting stuff the truck was mobbed. I found myself yelling, in English of course, “Don’t push my children!” It wasn’t very effective. We got all the kids out of there and I asked Angelo about the stuff on the truck. He said it was like the food all provided by the UN and donor countries for the kids. He added that the only reason they gave us some stuff was because he complained. He said the staff was going to keep it and sell in the street markets.Well, we made it back to the orphanage and everyone was tired. Of course, the day was soured for me by what Angelo told me. But, the girls had fun and they got to see some things for the first time. They didn’t even know their own people were ripping them off.

Living in Haiti

Haiti is a land of sun and heat, long days and slow nights, singing and lamenting, sorrow and joy, wind and dust, crowing roosters and fighting dogs, men at work and children at play, wheeling stars and sliver moons, tremendous beauty and penetrating ugliness and mountains and mountains and mountains...

It’s still hard to believe that I have moved to Haiti. Everything is still so new to me. I’m trying to let it all sink in. I don’t start teaching until July so I should be able to get a grip on how the house runs and some aspects of the culture here. I’ve begun to pick up bits of Creole. But it’s still an alien tongue.

The bulk of my work still lies ahead of me so I have yet to face the challenges which are sure to come. Thanks for all the prayers.

Check out my humble abode. (The boys in the picture on my bookcase are my nephews.)