Goin' on a Mango Hunt

Hiding

Easter Sunday at the orphanage means a mango hunt for the kids.  It's the height of mango season right now, so mangoes are cheap and plentiful.  Instead of hiding candy and Easter eggs around the compound, Gertrude hides mangoes.  Cheaper and healthier!

I guess they do it every year, and the kids love it.  They came tearing out of the front porch searching high and low for the mangoes.  The best part is watching them eat fruit afterward.  The mangoes are so juicy that the kids take off their shirts so that they don't make a mess.  They suck the juice out first and then tear into the flesh of the fruit itself.

I had fun just watching.  The "hunting" part was over in a matter of minutes, but the eating took a good 45 minutes!  

And they're off!

 . . . and Cade eats!

Cade finds . . . 

Searching

Yum

Finding

Gus loves his mangoes!

Stripping down to eat

Hmm . . . 

Digging in

In Search of . . .

Prestige.  I went out around 5:30 to buy two Prestiges.  I always head to the shop run by the nice lady who doesn't over charge me when I don't understand Haitian numbers or money.  Rhonda and Susan know her.

After I turned the corner from the orphanage, some guy started walking with me and talking to me.  Fine.  I could use the practice in both my Creole and French.  He was a bit pushy, though, when we arrived at the little stand.  The vendor knows me and smiled.  I ordered my two Prestige, and the guy kept saying " Plus vite"--hurry up.  I kept telling her not to rush; I was fine.  Turns out, she didn't have any Prestige!  I was (pretended to be) devastated.

I headed home, and my new found escort walked with me.  He said he knew another place "pa lwen"--not far-- where I could find some Prestige.  Okay.  I had time.  Why not?  We took a right just past the market and headed towards the kids' school.  At the intersection past the school we took a right.  That was a new direction for me.  I asked "Ki kote Prestige ye?"-- where is the Prestige?  His answer--"Pa lwen."  Hmm.  I followed, but slowly.

A nice lady asked whether I was lost.  I said no, but that I was looking to buy some Prestige.  She pointed down the road to our left, which is not the direction the strange guy was going to take me.  We turned left, but now I was paying a bit more attention.  Pretty much this guy was talking about himself, saying how he was a nice guy who could be trusted.  Red flags, anyone?

We came to the next intersection, and he wanted to turn left.  I looked down the "road" which didn't have much on it, much less anything that looked like a small shop.  At that point, I said I was going back.  He said I could trust him.  I said I was heading back.  On our way back I stopped at a place we had passed, and guess what?  It had Prestige!  I was all set to buy my two, but then I found out she didn't have change for my 500 goudes bill.  Foiled.  Too bad the guy didn't know that place sold Prestige--coulda saved me some steps!

He continued to annoy me on the way back because he kept pushing me to the side whenever a truck or motorcycle came by.  At this point, I was waiting for him to ask for something.  No way was he going to feign such concern for nothing.  I became a bit worried when he insisted upon holding my right arm (the arm from which my bag hung).  I quickly switched the bag to my left shoulder.  He let go of my arm.  Hmm?

He's smart because he then started telling me that he was a Christian man and he would never do anything not Christian like.  He really must have thought I was doofus!  I stopped at a small stand that was selling sandals (a second pair of my sandals are now duct taped together).  He jumped right in, talking over me.  He then noticed the watch on my wrist.  The last 50 yards back to the orphanage he asked for " un petit cadeau," a little present.  Namely, my watch.  This guy was a piece of work.  When we reached the orphanage gate, Brinel was sitting there working on his bike tire.  As I stepped across the threshold, my new "friend" asked me for money.  I told him no in what I thought was firm Creole, but he didn't stop until Brinel looked at him and said, "Li pa genyen."--she doesn't have any.  I don't know how to convey the tone of voice, but it worked.  Go Brinel!

Francois Moises wanted my phone number, wanted to meet to go for walks, wanted to visit me at Gertrude's.  I like adventure, and I like practicing my Creole.  But, I'm not stupid.

No need to worry, anyone.  I am safely ensconced on the roof top, drinking my Prestige (turns out Gertrude had some in the freezer here!).

Quiet Day

I liked today.  I was busy doing a different kind of work with the kids.  I have been asked to update some information on a handful of kids for an organization in England.  I was able to go through their files, compile the information, take pictures, and then send it all off in an e-mail to the contact person in England.  It was good to start a project and finish it.  

Another project that I have for that same organization in England is to have 10 of the kids they sponsor write letters and draw pictures to send to England to be given to their sponsors.  Three of the kids were able to write their letters IN ENGLISH (which I think is pretty darn good for kids in 3rd-5th grade).  The others are younger, so I just interviewed them.  I'll write their letters for them.  But, I took pictures of all of them, and they all drew pictures to mail as well.  The last things I need to do for that project are print the photos and then mail them off.  That can be adventures for next week!  I will have to find a photo printing place (my efforts today were futile) and then work my way to a DHL office--I know where it is, I just have to get there.

Today I went with Roberto in search of a place in the neighborhood that could print the photos for me.  The first place we stopped only printed in black and white and only printed on paper.  I needed them in color, so that place didn't work out.  We headed out to another place that printed in color.  They, too, only printed on paper, so I was only going to print some of the pictures I needed.  However, after messing with the pictures trying to get multiple photos on a page, I had messed up the pictures so bad they were all blurry!  Liz McAlpin showed me how to do this same thing back at the start of the school year, but I obviously remembered just enough to really mess things up.  Oh, well.  I didn't accomplish what I set out to do, but I got to see another part of the area, and I talked with Roberto a bit.  Those are good things.

The kids head back to school on Monday--thank God!  They've had two weeks off, and they are driving everyone crazy here.  It's hard to keep them all entertained; pretty much they pick on each other and tease each other and cause trouble.  Pretty typical of most kids, I bet

Have a God Week

          Have a god week.  Earlier this week I read that line in an e-mail that a friend wrote to me.  My mind initially read “have a good week,” because I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant.  I went back, though, to re-read the sentence because something seemed “off.”  That’s when I noticed the typo and realized it read “have a god week.”  Then I thought “Have a God week.”

            That phrase has made think all week.  I think it’s stuck in my brain in part because it’s Holy Week and I've been watching the celebrations around me and learning about Easter in Haiti.  I think it’s also stuck in my head because it’s such a cool saying.  Have a God week.  I've thought it many times this week, and each time it makes me think of God and makes me smile.  Not bad. 

            I've also thought about what does it mean? to “have a God week,” especially the week we observe Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and then celebrate Easter.  I don’t have any answers; I just know that every time I've thought of the phrase, I think about God for a bit.  Maybe that’s enough.  Maybe that’s the start to having a God week. 

            Vendredi Sens.  That’s what Haitians call Good Friday.  Good Friday is celebrated much differently here than in the States.  First of all, it’s celebrated, not observed.  It’s a big food day, and there are parties in the streets with bands and dancing and singing.  Then today there were a number of processions in the streets observing the Way of the Cross.  These processions stopped traffic and often had a police escort.  Most of the people in the processions wore white (that’s pretty traditional).  And, the church services and processions were held in the morning.  I explained to Oriol, my tutor, that in America Good Friday was very different.  The church services tended to be in the afternoon or evening, and that the day wasn’t so much celebrated as it was observed.  Churches turned out lights at 3:00 if they held services in the afternoon, all the colors were taken out of the sanctuary this week, not to be replaced until Easter Sunday, and services focused on the suffering of Christ (no celebrations there).  Oriol was surprised by how different it was.  Many offices closed yesterday and won’t re-open until Tuesday.  He also explained how most stores will be closed on Sunday.  Hmm.  Since we were trying to speak only in Creole, I knew I didn’t have the words to explain that not only would most stores in America be open, but that many of them would also have great Easter sales to entice people in.  I settled for “that’s different from in the States.”

Fresco Man

            I went back to work with Chi Chi this afternoon.  I felt bad for missing the last two days due to being ill.  I showed the nanny how to do things, and explained that she could do them even if I’m not there.  She seems as if she really wants to help Chi Chi get stronger, so I’m pretty positive that she’ll work with him.  On my way back, I passed a guy selling “frescos,” or slushies.  It was hot; the ice was cold.  I decided to buy

one.  For 25 goudes (about 60 cents), I had a grenadine-flavored treat for my walk back.  Quite nice.

            Thanks for reading.  Have a God week.

Update

I know it's been a couple of days since I posted.  That's mostly due to the fact that I've been sick.  Nothing serious.  Just a cold that has wiped me out.  But, thanks Mom and Susan for sending more Dayquil.  It's helping to keep the cold at bay.  I also decided to start a Z-pack (antibiotics) because the cough was settling in my chest.  I don't want to develop bronchitis, so I decided to play doctor.  I figure the antibiotics can't hurt me and I've encountered so many different germs here that a good zap of medicine might do me some good.

The last couple of days I've wanted to do more, but my body just hasn't cooperated.  Yesterday I did therapy in the morning with a couple of kids, helped with lunch, and then lay down "for just a few minutes" before heading out to do therapy with Chi Chi.  Yeah.  Four hours later I woke up, having slept the entire afternoon!  My intentions were to go this afternoon for the therapy, but suddenly I am swamped with work!

Gertrude has a number of e-mails that she wants me to follow up on in regards to updating sponsorship profiles with an organization in England, sending out sponsorship letters from kids who are sponsored by this group in England, sending quality good decent pictures of the chicken coop, and following up on our decision to create a 501c3 non-for-profit in the States for Notre Maison/St. Joe's.  In addition to those tasks, a new group came to visit the kids today, and in talking with that group, we discovered that one of them works for a small T.V. station/newspaper in CA.  She interviewed Gertrude and me about the orphanage and the horse and water therapy we've started.  It may be a good way to generate some financial support for both programs.  I also invited the group to join me next week for water therapy and horse therapy if they wanted to.  I would love all the support I can get for the water therapy so that more kids can go.

Needless to say, those activities took up my time this afternoon, so Chi Chi didn't get any therapy again today.  I plan to make up for it by heading over tomorrow after my Creole session with Oriol.

I am slowly getting over being homesick and missing my friends.  However, my cold has made it hard not to think about sleeping in my own bed and having the luxuries of the U.S. at my fingertips: ice cold drinks, hot water, my dog, snuggling, mindless T.V.

We had a hard rain for about 15 minutes late this afternoon.  We needed it.  I loved it.  Sitting up on the roof, I could see and feel the rain coming in.  The temperature dropped and the wind picked up.  The rain started slowly with gentle taps on the tin roof.  It quickly grew to deafening sounds on the roof as the rain came down in sheets.  I actually felt cold.  Goosebumps on my arms.  Felt good.

As I watched from the safety and dryness of the roof, I wondered about others in Haiti not so lucky.  Merchants who had to pack up quickly and lose any income from the night.  The kids at the other orphanage whose staircase to the roof isn't covered by anything.  The rain would come right down into the living quarters, flooding the small area.  People in the neighborhood still living in tents left over from the earthquake.  Water runs right under the tent walls.  

Even in Haiti, where life is hard for everyone, I still don't have it as hard as some.  And for that I am thankful.

Tough Gig!

Today was the first day of water therapy--yea!  Since I was the only one able to go, I took only two kids--Alain and Christine.

Waiting to get in

I have to admit, I wasn't real sure of what I was doing.  I tried to Google some videos on water therapy, but the results weren't very helpful.  I had two very basic goals--get them used to the water and see whether they would kick their legs on their own.  At first, Christine was pretty hesitant.  I couldn't tell whether she liked the water or was afraid.  I think she was reserving judgement.  She didn't cry, but she didn't really relax either.  I held her, had her float a bit on her back, and had her sit on the steps.  I then switched her out with Alain (he had been waiting in the wheelchair).

After the swim

Alain resting

Christine on the second go round

Alain did not like the water.  He cried from just about the moment he got in to when we left.  I did the same things with him that I did for Christine, and he looked more scared.  He didn't cry loudly, but I'm still glad that no one else was there.  I would have felt bad if we had disturbed others' peach and quiet by the pool.

After Alain, I brought Christine back into the water.  This time I put a flotation device on her so that I could be a bit farther away from her.  She loved it!  I could pull her along, and she would kick up a storm!  She smiled. She even splashed some with her hands (and it's not easy for her to use her hands).  I didn't have time to give Alain another go round today, but next week I'll have him go first.  Maybe today was just a bad day.

I may not know what I'm doing with the water therapy, but it's not too bad hanging out in a pool at a quiet resort while figuring it out!


I really like the Caribbean Lodge (if you're ever in PAP, I recommend that you go), and I've been thinking about heading over on my own some Friday afternoon.  It's my day off, and I could probably get there by taptap without too much problem.  They have pretty good wi-fi connection, and they serve real Diet Coke!  And there are no kids!  What more could I ask for???

As I was heading out to do therapy for Chi Chi, a white truck pulled up to Gertrude's gate, and a Haitian women leaned out and asked whether I was Jamie.  Totally surprised me.

"Yes," I answered.  "And you are . . . ?"

"Margaret," she replied.  As if that explained it all.

Turns out she had Shirley's birth mother with her in the car.  Now, I knew that Shirley's birth mother was coming, I just didn't know that I was expected to do anything.  I had them park inside the gate, and when they got out I asked, "How can I help you?"

"You can introduce us," Margaret replied.  Okay.  Well, I could have figured that one out on my own--I was thinking more in terms of paperwork, getting the child, etc.

Turns out Gabriel was the one whom Margaret really needed to see, not me. Which is good because I certainly couldn't communicate in Creole.  I did stay to observe the proceedings, however, just to see what it was about.  Pretty much what Margaret needed to do was take photos of Shirley and her mother, take saliva swabs from each of their mouths for DNA testing, and have pictures taken of her while she was taking the swabs.

Shirley had been told that the women was her birth mother, but I don't know that anyone had explained what would happen or why it was happening.  She looked pretty scared the whole time.  Of course, I don't blame her.  She's only about 5, and some strange lady was taking pictures of her and swabbing the inside of her mouth.  I'd be scared, too.  I just wanted to hold her in my lap and hug her, but that wouldn't have been okay.

I learned something today about the legal system in Haiti (and no, it's not because I did anything wrong).  When a person dies, before a death certificate will be issued by a judge, the family needs to take photographs of the dead body to send to the judge along with the application for a death certificate to prove that the person is actually deceased.  Gertrude explained that they are concerned about fraud, so a judge can't (isn't supposed to) issue the death certificate with out identifying pictures of the body.  Seems odd to me.

          I made contact with the manager at the Caribbean Lodge today, and some kids are going for water therapy tomorrow!  I am way excited about this.  I have to watch some videos tonight so that I can learn some of what needs to be done.   I have the swim diapers for the kids, but I don’t have PFDs for each of the kids yet.  I also don’t know who will be going with me tomorrow to help.  Brinel goes to horse therapy, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need another person to help in the water.  It would be great if Gertrude could go, help out, and meet the manager.  We’ll see what plays out.  Besides, I won’t be able to get any pictures if no one else is there to help!

            The three kids who are going for the water therapy are Phonsley, Alain, and Christine.  I think all of them can benefit from the therapy, especially Christine.  She has super high muscle tone, and her arms are often contracted tightly.  She really struggles with getting her limbs to move when she wants them to, so my hope is that in the water she will be able to move more freely and feel what that is like.  Phonsely just needs to keep working on strength development.  I’m not sure how the water therapy will help, and I’m not sure that he’s the best choice.  I’ll have to see how he develops.  Alain gets to go because he rarely gets out of his chair, and he doesn’t really get a lot of attention from anybody.  He just sort of sits in his chair pushed up against the wall.  I’d like to see him get some 1-1 attention and get out of his chair.  See what happens.

Chi Chi, the boy I'll be working with

            I went back over to Gertrude’s nephew’s orphanage today.  He seems like a very earnest young man.  I hope Gertrude can serve as a mentor to him and show him how to hook up with support systems for food, medical help, etc.  He wanted to know whether I could come back and do some therapy with Chi Chi, and I agreed.  My first day with him is tomorrow around 1:30.  I’ll try to take some video or pictures to post.  My best guess is that he has some degree of CP, but I don’t know for sure. 

            I’m not sure how Gertrude will feel about my helping out there.  I don’t want to hide the fact that I’m helping, but for some reason right now I feel as if I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it.  I think I’m still feeling sensitive from last week.  I haven’t seen many orphanages myself (just the two), but I have heard from others how much better Notre Maison/St. Joe’s are compared to the others.  Gertrude does an amazing job here, and she has a lot.  Which means that the children here have a lot.  They get three meals a day, go to school, get lots of attention from visitors, get lots of treats from visitors, and have annual medical check ups. 

Pile o' Clothes

            Just today a pile, I mean a huge pile, of clothes was delivered by Food for the Poor along with food staples.  Honestly, the last thing Gertrude needs is more clothes.  Right now it is all being stored in a massive cardboard box in the depot.  Having observed what I have so far, I wonder how much—if any—she will share with others.  I am still struggling with reconciling the hoarding mentality that seems to come with folks who live in survival mode with my own upbringing of sharing what one has with others (whether they have less than I or not).  Based on my parents’ example and based on my own faith journey, I have learned that the more I give, the more I have.  Literally.  Not just in some figurative way.  I try to be a faithful steward of what God has blessed me with, and when I do that, I always have more than what I need.  And when I share those blessings, I still always have more than I need.

"Bag" #1 of clothes

          Having grown up in America with more than I need and more than I want, I will probably never be able to understand that need to hoard.  It’s probably similar to how folks who grew up in the Great Depression continued to save everything even after times were good again.  Please pray that I can step back and do more observing and asking questions than placing value judgment.  I feel as if I’m slipping into “judging” a whole lot lately, and that’s not my place.  It leads to me thinking that my ways or my opinions are “better than,” and they’re not.  Life/culture in Haiti are just different.  And different isn't bad or good, right or wrong.  It’s just different.  

First Responders

The beginning of today's post is a shout out to all EMTs, first responders, police, and fire departments.

Karen, her daughter Laura (18), and I took Kethia, Lovely, Shirley, and Christella to the Caribbean Hotel near the airport for a couple hours of swimming (more about that later).  On our way back we were one of the first cars that came upon an accident.  A small truck had been T-boned by a much larger Mack truck.  I had our driver pull over so that we could help.  As I arrived at the truck, a group of bystanders was already pulling the driver out the passenger side door.  My first thought was "Oh, I hope he doesn't have a neck or back injury."

No one knew what to do.  Not because they weren't smart people, but just because first aid training probably isn't a part of Haitian culture.  In the U.S. kids get it at school, for summer camp jobs, for life guard training.  It's available in many places.  Thankfully, Laura and I are both trained in first aid and CPR.

Mrs. Abraham's First Aid Classes--Let me know whether we should have done things differently!

We had the injured man lie down, and we asked for blankets from our car to cover him up to prevent shock.  I also had Laura kneel by his feet and lift at the knees to also try to prevent shock.  While we were lying him down, I asked him his name and age (trying to keep him calm and see whether he was cognizant).  I then used a corner of a towel to wipe up some of the blood on his face/head.  At that point some of the bystanders handed me alcohol wipes.  A minute later another bystander handed me gloves (Thank you!).  The man kept asking for his phone and gesturing toward the car.  While others looked for the phone, one guy asked me whether I knew an emergency phone number to call (really?  me?  the white person who obviously doesn't live in PAP?  how would I know the Haitian equivalent of 911?).  The man indicated that his left hip hurt, but I couldn't see a cut or blood, but we rolled him onto his side because that seemed to make him more comfortable.  He also kept trying to stand, and Laura and I eventually helped him up to see whether he could sit on the car seat.  Yea, that didn't work, so we lay him back down.  I could see that the crowd had grown and that UN troops were there directing traffic (and taking pictures of me near the injured man).  Eventually we found the man's phone and were able to contact someone on his contact list.  An ambulance also arrived and put the man in the back of it.  No stretcher.  No first aid supplies. Just the bed of the van.

A couple of observations:

1.  An working airbag may have allowed him to walk away without any injuries.
2.  Wearing a seat belts probably would have kept his face from smashing into the steering wheel (as would
     have an airbag).
3.  Always carry a first aid kit in your car!
4.  Be trained in first aid so that you can help in an emergency.
5.  Have an ICE (In Case of Emergency) number programmed into your cell phone.
6.  Thank a first responder, police officer, fire fighter, anyone you know who is trained in CPR/first aid.

Okay.  So that's the end of the "high adrenaline" portion of the day.

Karen and the girls

 The rooms at this hotel are made out of old ship containers.  They just stack 'em, connect 'em with hallways, add bathrooms and A.C., and you got yourself a hotel!  Pretty ingenious, if you ask me.

Hotel rooms

I had lunch at the pool bar!

Rosie lounging

 We all had a great time at the pool.  The girls loved it, and I had a fun playing with them in the water.  They enjoyed eating out and being treated to a special day since these four girls missed out on the last trip to a beach.  The other good thing about the Caribbean Hotel is that we may be able to do water therapy there!  I talked with the manager this afternoon, and she said to e-mail her so that we could work out the details.  I'm hoping to get it started this week--please pray for smooth negotiating!

New Dress

More new clothes

Ice cream bar made out of corn

The other good thing about today was my visit to another orphanage this morning (which was a return visit from yesterday).  Suse's son, Rosie's cousin and Gertrude's nephew, has started to run a small orphanage nearby (within a 15 minute walk).  I went there yesterday with Rosie and her cousin Safi, met the kids, and hung out for a bit.  Seems that the kids need new clothes, so when this cousin came over last night, Suse suggested that we might have some clothes to share with the kids (I know . . . this is the same Suse who was concerned about my giving out too many clothes here--go figure).  We have an abundance, so we dug out some clothes for the smallest child there: Chi Chi, a little boy with special needs.  We told him that we would dig out more clothes today and bring them over after church.  The kids were thrilled to have some new clothes!  They were so proud to be looking nice.

Rosie and me at her cousin's

Chi Chi and me

This is a small orphanage--only nine kids--and the place is tiny.  Nothing even close to what the kids at Notre Maison/St. Joe's have.  I give this cousin credit, though.  He's starting out small, and he has great a great example to follow in Gertrude.  He and talked a bit last night about how he needs to find sponsors for the kids and develop a support system of people who can/will visit and provide enrichment for the kids.  Right now, none of them attend school because the funds aren't there, and the two nannies who work there try to do some school with the kids themselves during the day, but that won't be enough to enable the kids to function on their own later in life.

.

New Clothes!

Kids at the cousin's orphanage

Not all of the clothes that I took over today fit, so tomorrow afternoon when our kids are napping I'm going to head back over with more clothing options.  Looking forward to seeing these new friends!

Leah--her brother Leo is at Gertrude's

Struggling

            I decided to write this blog as soon as I got up because I hope that I can be a bit more objective that way.  I’ll be honest; the last 3-4 days have been pretty rough for me.  Physically, nothing has changed.  I’m healthy and safe.  The challenges have been emotional and mental.

            First of all, my visit with Susan and Rhonda was amazing!  They are great friends who came to a third-world country to visit, and not once did they complain about the conditions.  They rolled with the punches and found adventure in every experience.  What I struggled with was the lack of consideration shown to them at the guesthouse.  Gertrude was out of town at a celebration in her hometown, and Susan, Rhonda, and I were the only guests here.  It seemed as if little thought was given to how to make sure that their experience was as pleasant as when a boatload of guests are here.  They ran out of coffee; both Rhonda and Susan are morning coffee drinkers.  Evening meals came much later than normal because many of the staff were not here.  We had to negotiate rides on our own because the driver didn’t come to work the day we really needed him. 

            I know this sounds petty, but if the guests had been anyone other than my friends, I don’t think the guesthouse would have run this way.  Even though Susan and Rhonda didn’t complain (okay, they did a bit about the lack of coffee!), I felt bad because they weren’t being treated like other paying guests.

            Then we wanted to go through the kids’ clothes and give out some new ones.  Gertrude had given me permission to do this with them when Susan and Rhonda came to visit.  Suse, Gertrude’s sister, struggled with our doing it.  Every time we took a break, she would put all the clothes away and lock the depot.  Gabriel, the tutor for the kids (he speaks fluent English), shared with us that Suse thought Gertrude wouldn’t approve of giving out so many new clothes at once.  I had him explain that Gertrude had said it would be okay, but Suse didn’t look convinced.  We went ahead and gave out new clothes to many of the boys, and they loved it!  However, Suse seemed upset, as if I had usurped her authority.   

            We had told the girls that they would get some new clothes on Thursday or Friday.  Well, Suse often wasn’t here with the keys, so the girls have to keep waiting.  And it’s not just the girls who have to wait.  When Suse leaves and takes the keys with her, no one can accomplish much.  The nannies come to me with questions about more diapers for Marise or cleaning supplies, but I can’t help them because I don’t have access to any of the places that hold those supplies.  Gertrude typically leaves the keys with me when she leaves, but Suse doesn’t it.  I’m not sure why, but in my current emotional state, I’m taking it personally.  Especially when the nannies look at me like I’m lying when I say I can’t get them what I need (they are used to my being able to do so).

            Thursday morning I folded all the clothes from the boys that we had replaced with new ones.  I put them into three piles: clothes that could still be worn but were too big/small for the child who had them, clothes that could be worn if the holes in the seams were sewn, and ripped/stained clothes.  I took them to Suse because that is how Gertrude explained for me to do it.  Suse had me go through the clothes to “prove” that they were, in fact, worthy of being switched out.  Talk about feeling not respected or valued!

            I’ve been trying to see it all through the eyes of a different culture, but it’s hard.  I feel as if it’s personal.  I know some of it is that I’m sad that my friends left.  I think some of it is Suse not wanting Gertrude to be mad.  I’m sure some of it comes from living in a constant state of need and not wanting to waste a thing.  However, I don’t know how to shake the “she just doesn’t like me” feeling.

            So yesterday morning my attitude took another nose dive.  The school teachers had planned an Easter celebration for all the kids.  Everyone had good clothes on, treats, drinks, etc.   Well, as preparations were being made, Suse asked if I had any money so that she could go out and buy the snacks and drinks.  My first thought—quite uncharitable—was “Oh, so I’m not good enough to make decisions about clothes, but it’s okay to use my money because no one planned ahead to think about how to buy the treats for the party!”  I gave her all my goudes because I didn’t know how much she would need.  The kids had a great feast, and I don’t begrudge them that.  However, I can’t shake this feeling of being used. 

            The last straw was last night.  Supper is typically served at 5:00 p.m., but sometimes it’s as late as 6:00 or 6:30 when large groups are here.  Well, 5:00 came and went.  So did 6:00.  And then 6:30.  At 7:00 p.m. there was still no sign of supper being prepared, so I dug out some leftovers, heated them up, and ate up on the roof.  Well, at 8:00 Rosie came up to say that supper was almost ready.  I explained that I had already eaten.  She looked at me as if I had three heads!  Her first response was “Those leftovers weren’t for you.”  Then she wanted to know what she should tell Lucienne, who had cooked.  I told her to tell her I was sorry, but that I didn’t know supper was coming so late.  Rosie came back up about 15 minutes later to say that supper was ready and was I going to eat.  I told her no, that I had already eaten.  She looked at me as if I was the most ungrateful thing in the world (okay, maybe that was just my imagination).  But, she did look a bit put out.  I apologized again, saying that I didn’t know supper would be at 8:00 instead of 5:00 or 6:00.

            So, it’s Saturday morning right now.  The sun is shining (as usual), and more of the staff is here.  I think Gertrude may actually return today.  I hope now that I’ve gotten all this off my chest I can see things in a different light and not take what happens so personally. 

Photo Frenzy

Today we hung around the guesthouse doing therapy with the kids.  We went for a walk to give out the rest of the hygiene packets and stopped at the kids's church to drop off some rosaries and other Catholic goodies that Rhonda's priest had sent.  The folks at the church were very appreciative, and they let us take some pictures of the building (they are working on some construction).

We were able to work with Marise, Maxo, and Jean-Daniel for both lunch and supper.  It's slow going, but they are making progress, especially Marise and Jean-Daniel.

The rest of the post is made up of pictures from the last couple of days.

Driving in the mountains

Lunch with Evensce

Evensce heading home

View from the hotel in Jacmel

After swimming

PAP view on way to Jacmel

My friend Oriol who drove us to Jacmel

Soccer Boy who pretended to kick the ball at the car

Swimming

Swimming again

My favorite picture (at the left).  My Aunt Jean used to swim with us like that when we were kids.

Church construction

Gertrude's church

Remie and me.

Yolanda and me

Remie was at the church and helped us deliver the rosaries.

Covering at a bar not far from the orphanage!

It reads Chicago, IL (in the above picture).

                                                                                                                                      Yolanda is a member of Gertrude's church.  She was very nice to us.

So Worth It

Supper at Hotel Cyvadier

I met with Evensce today, the child I sponsor through Compassion. If you read the earlier blog from today, you know how upset and frustrated I was with the whole process of getting to Jacmel.  Well, all the troubles we went through were absolutely worth it.

I know we had it rough, but so did Evensce, the translator, and the Compassion worker.  They left his home at about 6:30 this morning for a 4+ hour ride to Jacmel by motorcycle.  Their drive took longer than expected because of rains last night and a flat tire on one of the motorcycles.  They were to arrive at 10:30 but couldn't make it until 12:00.

The three hours that I had to get to know Evensce were totally worth it.  I went out to meet the motorcycles as they came up the gravel drive to the hotel.  The first thing he did when he got off the motorcycle was hug me.  I fell in love that moment.  He's 13, but he was very okay with giving me a hug.  I couldn't wait to get to know him better.

Evensce and me 

The time we had flew by--it certainly wasn't enough!  We were able to have lunch and then do a bit of swimming in the hotel pool.  He's a swimmer, which is unusual for Haitian kids; he said that his friends and he swim a lot in the river near where he lives.  I would love to go visit him at his Compassion project and maybe meet his family.  I don't know whether that will ever happen, but I would like to try.

"Posing" by the pool

We had to leave soon after Evensce did because we had to get the car back before 7:00  (okay, really 5:00, but we managed it by 7:00).  The Hertz folks did eventually get us a new car, so the drive back home was uneventful (relatively).  Oriol is by nature a cautious person, and that transfers to his driving (hence the two-hour trek over the mountains yesterday).  That same drive today took just an hour.  I drove part of it!  I was very pleased with myself for tackling other "firsts": first time driving in the mountains, and first time driving in Haiti's mountains.

We pulled into the Hertz place at 6:54 and had to be assertive to get them to take the car back and not charge us for another day.  I tip my hat to Mr. Fritz, the manager there because he took great care of us even when the other workers were giving us a hard time.  He deserves some kuddos for his work, and I intend to write a letter to the corporate office sharing what he did for us.

Well, the car was back "home," but we were not.  We still needed to get from Hertz back to the orphanage via walking, tap tap, and motorcycle.  In the dark.  I know it wasn't the greatest timing (okay . . . . it was bad timing), but I was okay.  Rhonda, a.k.a. Officer Komes, was not okay.  Every one of her cop instincts was firing away, and she struggled with our trip back.  However, she took care of us.  When we had to walk, she walked behind Susan and me because she "had our backs."  Literally.

We arrived safely.  No problems.  As I was confident we would.



My hope is that their last two days in PAP will be drama free as we focus on the kids and spend time with them.

Video clip of the riverbed as we headed out of Jacmel.


On tomorrow's blog I will post more photos of my day with Evensce--my computer battery is about dead!