Two days ago I began feeling kinda wierd. Couldn't really place it at first, just fatigue, etc. Then I began vomiting and other problems all night long. Woke up knowing with the experience of someone whose lived in Haiti almost 20 years that I had malaria. Despite what textbooks tell medical professionals, malaria is our household always starts with massive GI symptoms, followed by fevers only after you start taking the treatment. Wierd, huh? This is the only illness that I've ever had that I keep thinking I would rather be dead than feel like this. To me, that is the hallmark sign that it is malaria.
Thank God here in Haiti we have a relatively easily treatable form of the malady, 3 days of large doses of chlorequin will take care of it. I just took my second dose this morning and am beginning to feel like I'd like to continue to live. I might even feel like eating later today; that would be a novelty. This is probably not the most edifying note; just want everyone to know it's not all fun and games down here.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Friday, October 02, 2009
I think I'm part Haitian now
I've lived here a long time. As most middle aged people can attest, time goes by more quickly than one can imagine. The only thing that seems to remind me that things are changing is the growth of my children and seeing how lifestyles themselves change. Alot of my friends from here are teasing me about how "Haitian" I am. I seriously doubt that. I think I've become some odd conglomerate of part Haitian/part American/ part world cultural person. I'm definitely not your typical missionary anymore though.
Most of my missionary friends go back to the states periodically to sustain support levels and talk about how hard life is here. In the twenty years I've known my husband, I've never once heard him ask for funding for anything. Seriously. He asks people to pray. When they've asked how specifically they can help, occasionally he'll tell others how specific gifts could help, etc. Well, I'm praying and rather than go to the the U.S., I'm glad we're staying here and praying.
Most of my missionary friends go back to the states periodically to sustain support levels and talk about how hard life is here. In the twenty years I've known my husband, I've never once heard him ask for funding for anything. Seriously. He asks people to pray. When they've asked how specifically they can help, occasionally he'll tell others how specific gifts could help, etc. Well, I'm praying and rather than go to the the U.S., I'm glad we're staying here and praying.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Students begging for teachers to be paid
A few days ago my husband was driving home from the Dominican Republic where he'd gone to stock up on supplies. On the way back, he was driving through the community of Limonade. He found a long line of trucks backed up behind a blockade. The road block? A demonstration by public school students who were asking for the government to pay their teachers so they'd come back to work. Here it is February, and the staff has not been paid since school started in October. The students planned a peaceful blockade, right by the police station until 1 P.M. when their classes would normally let out. Their purpose was to draw attention to the fact that while the gov't is dispensing funding for carnival festivities, many outlying suburban schools can't even open because of no pay to staff.
The protest was going calmly until the police decided it had gone on long enough. With the U.N. staffers instructing them, the police proceeded to try and break it up. Eventually this led to firing tear gas at the high school students to get them to go home. Only in Haiti, it seems, do we have police and a government that orders students to go home.
Of course, no one ever heard about this anywhere in the world.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Hurricane hits...
I know, I know, so I haven't written anything in almost a year. But life stays kind of the same, you know?
Even the advent of a hurricane, which comes upon us a few times a year usually has no direct impact on us up here in the plateau. Get it, plateau, we are elevated above...Well, not this time. For anyone who was watching, Hurricane Hanna, which was supposed to sweep past us and smack the Bahamas, changed plans. Because of the weather forces, the hurricane turned around, dipped south and basically sat on top of northern Haiti for three days. It literally rained for over 30 hours solid here.
The cement roof leaked, meaning I mopped the floor more times than I had in the past year (a good thing!) Then the basement flooded, and then, during the storm, someone climbed some trees to our roof and stole half of our solar panels. I mean, really, was that necessary? In the process the dumb bunnies also cut the wire to my satellite internet connection so I was offline for a few days. I wish if someone was going to be a thief, they'd be smart enough to at least know what wires to cut.
Anyway, the good news is (there is always is) that we survived. The best thing about living in Haiti is the perspective it gives you. The needs around me don't allow any room for self-pity. As usual, we knew the news from the low lying areas would be bad. Due to no roads, little infrastructure, the news takes a looong time to get out. We began getting phone calls from Gonaives Tuesday at 2 A.M. Friends were stuck on their roofs in the elements, saying the water was up past 7 feet in depth and carrying cars, animal carcasses and human remains past them. Horrifying stories were heard. Just the last two days we've been receiving the pictures of what is going on less than 20 miles away from us.
This is from the community of Hinche, here in the central plateau, less than 19 miles from us.
Other images are equally as horrifying. I've tried to let people know to be praying, etc.
Not too surprisingly, when I watched the American media, almost no stories are being told now. On You Tube, the only video is from Al Jazeera. How ironic!
Again the nice thing is when you are already on the ground here, you can begin helping quickly. By contacting some supporting churches and resources through Rotary International, we've already found $18K to start relief work. Caleb left since yesterday to head to Port au Prince to get supplies. The only way into Gonaives (the hardest hit) is from the South. He called me this morning an hour out of that city, pictured below. He is dropping off basic supplies, drinking water, and foodstuffs today. He and the group with him, including Haiti's nat'l director for World Vision, (a long time friend), are dropping off supplies to contact there at Gonaives hospital, churches and Rotarian contacts. I told him today to be careful because Hurricane Ike is expected to pass our way tonight and early tomorrow.
Do be praying for them. This is Gonaives from the air, taken two days ago by Michael Broyles, an MAF pilot here in Haiti. The first few days people could call out asking for help, but it took several days for forces to mobilize. The government is still trying to get up and running. Below is an image of Gonaives rooftops where many of our friends are living these days. Many are believers. Please be praying. Please pray for wisdom and safety as Caleb and others get out and try to meet some needs.
The next few days and weeks will be challenging here in Haiti. Be praying that the Christians in this country will stand up and help their countrymen. Be praying that the church at large will help.
Hopefully, Al Jazeera won't be the only people remarking on the needs here.
Even the advent of a hurricane, which comes upon us a few times a year usually has no direct impact on us up here in the plateau. Get it, plateau, we are elevated above...Well, not this time. For anyone who was watching, Hurricane Hanna, which was supposed to sweep past us and smack the Bahamas, changed plans. Because of the weather forces, the hurricane turned around, dipped south and basically sat on top of northern Haiti for three days. It literally rained for over 30 hours solid here.
The cement roof leaked, meaning I mopped the floor more times than I had in the past year (a good thing!) Then the basement flooded, and then, during the storm, someone climbed some trees to our roof and stole half of our solar panels. I mean, really, was that necessary? In the process the dumb bunnies also cut the wire to my satellite internet connection so I was offline for a few days. I wish if someone was going to be a thief, they'd be smart enough to at least know what wires to cut.
Anyway, the good news is (there is always is) that we survived. The best thing about living in Haiti is the perspective it gives you. The needs around me don't allow any room for self-pity. As usual, we knew the news from the low lying areas would be bad. Due to no roads, little infrastructure, the news takes a looong time to get out. We began getting phone calls from Gonaives Tuesday at 2 A.M. Friends were stuck on their roofs in the elements, saying the water was up past 7 feet in depth and carrying cars, animal carcasses and human remains past them. Horrifying stories were heard. Just the last two days we've been receiving the pictures of what is going on less than 20 miles away from us.
This is from the community of Hinche, here in the central plateau, less than 19 miles from us.Other images are equally as horrifying. I've tried to let people know to be praying, etc.
Not too surprisingly, when I watched the American media, almost no stories are being told now. On You Tube, the only video is from Al Jazeera. How ironic!
Again the nice thing is when you are already on the ground here, you can begin helping quickly. By contacting some supporting churches and resources through Rotary International, we've already found $18K to start relief work. Caleb left since yesterday to head to Port au Prince to get supplies. The only way into Gonaives (the hardest hit) is from the South. He called me this morning an hour out of that city, pictured below. He is dropping off basic supplies, drinking water, and foodstuffs today. He and the group with him, including Haiti's nat'l director for World Vision, (a long time friend), are dropping off supplies to contact there at Gonaives hospital, churches and Rotarian contacts. I told him today to be careful because Hurricane Ike is expected to pass our way tonight and early tomorrow.
Do be praying for them. This is Gonaives from the air, taken two days ago by Michael Broyles, an MAF pilot here in Haiti. The first few days people could call out asking for help, but it took several days for forces to mobilize. The government is still trying to get up and running. Below is an image of Gonaives rooftops where many of our friends are living these days. Many are believers. Please be praying. Please pray for wisdom and safety as Caleb and others get out and try to meet some needs.
The next few days and weeks will be challenging here in Haiti. Be praying that the Christians in this country will stand up and help their countrymen. Be praying that the church at large will help.
Hopefully, Al Jazeera won't be the only people remarking on the needs here.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Running on Empty
People who are in the "giving" professions are supposed to always be ready with an answer, right? Of course, everyone knows that is unrealistic yet the expectation is still there. I think this is true for all the helping professions: ministers, teachers, nurses, doctors, etc.
Yet, when I was heading back to Haiti earlier this month I was running on an empty tank.
Have you ever been there?
I mean, I could hardly think of a postive encouraging thing to say to members of my own family, let alone people I might run into. This was the result of a month of travel and activity and stress leading to a mild depressive state or exhaustion. All that to say again, I was running on empty.
The morning I arose at 5 AM to meet our flight taking us home to Haiti, I remember praying: "God I have nothing to offer you." I hadn't felt that tired in a long time.
Still, I slugged through getting the bleary eyed kids up, dressed and in the car(s). Then hauling the seven pieces of luggage to grumpy airline personnel. Anyway, by the time we finally made it to the gate, I wasn't feeling any more energetic.
Still, as we boarded the flight there was a certain peace that only comes when you're doing what you're supposed to. I settled in our assigned row with my older daughter. She wanted to sit next to the window but I told her we'd have to wait and see if the person assigned there would switch with her. A few minutes later there appeared a youthful looking woman in jeans who didn't mind a bit if we switched seats.
As the flight lifted off, I told her again that I appreciated her kindness to my daughter. We began chatting about our children. Getting back into the Kreyol language was good, as there are nuances that just can't be expressed any other way. I found that her children were grown. She had immigrated to the states decades ago and then was summarily abandoned by her husband. She had spent the last few years working any possible job as she sent her youngest son to college. Further into the flight, she asked if I could help her fill out the Haitian immigration & customs card--she was illiterate. I found also that she was actually much older than she appeared-now approaching 60. Yet at this point in her life she wanted to go back to Haiti and run a small business to help those in her home village. Such a familiar story.
She asked some questions about me, as to how a middle aged white woman spoke Kreyol well? She said, "you know, I knew as soon as I saw you and heard how you spoke with me that you were a Christian." She was not surprised when she later met my husband and said, "he has the eyes of a pastor." I was startled towards the end of our flight when she broke down in tears and said, "not many people talk to me like this. I hope you will remember to pray for me. I'm not baptized yet, but I seek God." I assured her that I would. As we parted getting off the plane, I gave her a hug and told her, I would remember her.
I looked for her a few times after going through immigration and at the baggage claim, but there were two large international flights arriving and I never saw her again. I did keep my word and have prayed for her several times.
What later brought tears to my eyes was when I thought of how amazing God really is. Here I am, with absolutely no energy, no seeming resources of my own to offer yet HE can still use us to express grace and acceptance to those we meet. Only God can do that. It was an encouraging affirmation at this point that despite what I feel, what I little I may hope for, His purposes will still be worked out.
Yet, when I was heading back to Haiti earlier this month I was running on an empty tank.
Have you ever been there?
I mean, I could hardly think of a postive encouraging thing to say to members of my own family, let alone people I might run into. This was the result of a month of travel and activity and stress leading to a mild depressive state or exhaustion. All that to say again, I was running on empty.
The morning I arose at 5 AM to meet our flight taking us home to Haiti, I remember praying: "God I have nothing to offer you." I hadn't felt that tired in a long time.
Still, I slugged through getting the bleary eyed kids up, dressed and in the car(s). Then hauling the seven pieces of luggage to grumpy airline personnel. Anyway, by the time we finally made it to the gate, I wasn't feeling any more energetic.
Still, as we boarded the flight there was a certain peace that only comes when you're doing what you're supposed to. I settled in our assigned row with my older daughter. She wanted to sit next to the window but I told her we'd have to wait and see if the person assigned there would switch with her. A few minutes later there appeared a youthful looking woman in jeans who didn't mind a bit if we switched seats.
As the flight lifted off, I told her again that I appreciated her kindness to my daughter. We began chatting about our children. Getting back into the Kreyol language was good, as there are nuances that just can't be expressed any other way. I found that her children were grown. She had immigrated to the states decades ago and then was summarily abandoned by her husband. She had spent the last few years working any possible job as she sent her youngest son to college. Further into the flight, she asked if I could help her fill out the Haitian immigration & customs card--she was illiterate. I found also that she was actually much older than she appeared-now approaching 60. Yet at this point in her life she wanted to go back to Haiti and run a small business to help those in her home village. Such a familiar story.
She asked some questions about me, as to how a middle aged white woman spoke Kreyol well? She said, "you know, I knew as soon as I saw you and heard how you spoke with me that you were a Christian." She was not surprised when she later met my husband and said, "he has the eyes of a pastor." I was startled towards the end of our flight when she broke down in tears and said, "not many people talk to me like this. I hope you will remember to pray for me. I'm not baptized yet, but I seek God." I assured her that I would. As we parted getting off the plane, I gave her a hug and told her, I would remember her.
I looked for her a few times after going through immigration and at the baggage claim, but there were two large international flights arriving and I never saw her again. I did keep my word and have prayed for her several times.
What later brought tears to my eyes was when I thought of how amazing God really is. Here I am, with absolutely no energy, no seeming resources of my own to offer yet HE can still use us to express grace and acceptance to those we meet. Only God can do that. It was an encouraging affirmation at this point that despite what I feel, what I little I may hope for, His purposes will still be worked out.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Market Days
This is an image I took a few months ago. It looks strikingly like many paintings done here in Haiti of the market women. Most of the folks that go to the market are female. I was told once this was because long ago men would be conscripted into the Haitian army if they were wandering around towns so they would usually stay at home on the farms and send their women in to do the buying and selling.
While the conscription is no longer a reality, it remains a woman's job to buy and sell. These gals will walk miles at times to go to the various community markets to sell their wares. This lady is selling mostly spices, onions, garlic and some chicken flavor bouillon cubes, all staples to the Haitian cook. Makes me smell the food just looking at this...
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Downpour doesn't spoil a thing!
Today is, of course, a national holiday to Americans. As a tribute to our American guests, we invited some area folks over for a cook out of imported burgers, steak, etc. It was a lot of fun. The only challenge today was there was a huge amount of rain during the late afternoon. The nice thing was the kid's camp and fun still continued. Some of the kids even enjoyed the overflowing water! (see photo)
It's really about the simple things in life for all of us, isn't it? The camp ends tomorrow and the children will head home on the bus. Hopefully they will remember good times, laughter, and embrace the truths they've been taught.
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