Update from the States

I usually only post when I am actually in Haiti, so this--I think--is my first post stateside!  So much has been happening with Notre Maison/St. Joe's and the kids, that I wanted to get it out for all you so that you can stay up on the goings on.

First of all, the Advisory Council is up and running as is our webpage.  It is a great place to find out more about the kids and how you can help support the work being done on the compound.  One of the most exciting things is that we can now accept online donations!  We are partnering with Haiti Mission Project in this endeavor--they let us use their PayPal account to accept donations for Notre Maison, and we thank them profusely!  I think we're getting the better end of the stick on that one.

Our two interns--Lauren Stottlemyer and Alix Comeau--are doing great work with the kids and staff.  They constantly come up with new ideas to promote sponsorships for the kids, to do therapy with the special-needs kids, to provide new ways to get the kids nutritious foods.  Lauren has also been instrumental in getting paperwork done on adoptions.  In fact, five of our children will be with their adoptive families by the end of August.  Three brothers went home to MN back in June, and two more kids will head to MI soon--praise God!

Two new projects are on the horizon: a solar electricity project and plans for a new guesthouse!  I just love how God brings people from so many different places and walks of life to make great things happen at Notre Maison/St. Joe's.  One of the council members was able to get a $10,000 grant for the solar project, and then some engineers from Washington University in St. Louis will do a needs assessment for us, and a friend that I met last year in PAP has connections in Mexico and the U.S. who might be able to help with funding as well.  As for the new guesthouse, Gertrude and I talked with the staff from Champion Ministries who were in PAP back in June and shared our thoughts and needs for a new guesthouse.  Well, those ladies took our ideas back to their husbands (who are architects!), and we will probably have drawings for a new guesthouse soon.

Pretty cool, huh?

Three Families

Last night I witnessed both endings and beginnings. 

Jameson, Edson, and Michael—three brothers who have lived at St. Joe’s for the past seven years—left to go to their new home in Minnesota.  At the going away party held in their honor were their birth parents, their other siblings, the staff and children of Notre Maison/St. Joe’s, and their adoptive parents.

First Family

The boys wanted to see their birth parents before leaving, and they were able to spend time with them and their siblings.  The whole family dressed up and spent quite a bit of time here, had supper with the boys, and prayed with Megan and Barry, the boys’ adoptive parents.

The boys don’t see their first family often.  I think it’s mostly when paperwork for the adoption needs to be complete, which is probably not the best of circumstances because the purpose then is to prepare for the good-bye.  To be honest, the time spent together last night is most likely the most time the boys have spent with their first family. 

When these boys were born and came into their first family, the mom and dad had great hopes for them, I am sure.  I bet nowhere in their thinking of the boys’ future did they see one in which they would not be growing up surrounded by blood relatives who loved them.  They probably never dreamed of having to let them go forever.

Second Family

The bulk of the guests at the party were members of the boys second family—the children they have grown up with, the nannies who have cared for them, and Gertrude and Gabriel who have been responsible for so much of their formation.

This family probably knows them best because they have known them the longest.  They have fought with them, cried with them, celebrated their achievements with them, and watched them grow.  They know their likes and dislikes.  They are friends, especially the other boys—Keloke, Lukson, and Wolton. 

Gertrude filled the role of second mother.  She made sure the boys went to school, attended church, learned manners, had consequences for misbehavior, loved on them when they needed comfort.  She did everything that a first mother does all the while knowing that she would most likely let them go to a family far away.

Third Family

In attendance last night were Barry and Megan Quiggle, the folks who will fill the role of  third parents for the boys’ future.  Megan and Barry will take them to a new place with new family that will include three new siblings—Hannah, Hezakiah, and Noah—as well as countless cousins, aunts, and uncles.  Like their second family, this third family will also be made up of folks who may not be related by blood, but who are family anyway—those who have supported the Quiggles throughout the adoption process, friends who have prayed endlessly, and visitors at the guesthouse who will be able to see the boys in MN. 

The third family has waited a long time for this beginning.  They are anticipating a future filled with fun, laughter, excitement, tears (yes, there will be hard times), and happiness.  God willing, this third family will be permanent after so much change for three young boys. 

The Ties That Bind

I consider myself blessed to have been a part of this transition.  I have known the boys for five years, the Quiggles for 18 months, and the first family not at all.  I love Jameson, Edson, and Michael dearly, but my love for them is nothing compared to the love of their three mothers and fathers. 

Some people think “Oh, it’s so good that the kids are getting a family.”  Well, they've always had a family.  Two of them, in fact.  Yes, the first mother and father had to give them up, but it wasn't because they wanted to.  Economic circumstances forced upon them a decision that no parent should have to face.  Yet, they did.  And their boys ended up with an amazing second family.  Even though Jameson, Edson, and Michael no longer lived with their first family, they were still family.  Those ties of love were never cut.  They will never be cut.

In the same way, the ties that bind the boys to their second family will never be severed.  Notre Maison/St. Joe’s will always be home, and the children and staff there will always be family, whether or not the boys live there.

Now those ties are stretching across an ocean, and even though the distance grows longer, the ties grow no weaker.  It’s not just the boys who are bound to Haiti because it is their place of birth, where their first and second families reside, but the Quiggles are bound to Haiti as well.  They—Megan, Barry, and their birth children—will be connected to Haiti forever because they have family from Haiti and family in Haiti.

I don’t have any idea why God had Jameson, Edson, and Michael born to their first family or why He needed to bring them to their second family at St. Joe’s or why the Quiggles became their third family.  But, I do know there’s a reason.  I know there’s a reason for the love and the pain and the sadness and the happiness.  Somehow, tying these three families together through their love for Jameson, Edson, and Michael fulfills God’s plan in some way.

And I am blessed to have been witness to it.

On Giving Up

Being in Haiti is hard.
Working in Haiti is hard.
Accomplishing tasks, goals, dreams in Haiti is hard.

This trip it all has just seemed hard.  Too hard.

This trip I seem to have been inundated with the negative, with what's not working, with what's wrong with everything.  Those negative thoughts have been eating away at me.  I see what has not changed, what has not been accomplished in the three years I've really been working with Gertrude.  I see the dreams that have been sidelined, put on hold, changed all together.

I see my own lack of development in language--I'm not much more able to speak Creole now than when I came last year.  How can that be?  How can I be so lacking in language skills after spending five months here?  What wasted opportunity.

I have struggled to see any positive impact on this little corner of Haiti in spite of the efforts of so many people over the years--why bother continuing?  What's the point?

I'll be honest--this trip, I've felt like packing it up, saying I can't do it.  Saying it's too much for me.  Maybe somebody else can succeed where I have not.

Then God sent hope.

Hope came with Rachel and Gloria.  They came to talk with me and saw only the possibilities of Notre Maison/St. Joe's and Providence Guesthouse.

I saw broken walls, dirty cement, and bland decor.  They saw ministry opportunities for excited teams.  I saw crowded, hot bedrooms, and they saw service opportunities awaiting because teams would be staying onsite.  I heard loud, noisy children running amok.  They heard voices raised in VBS songs praising God.  I saw gardens that hadn't bloomed in some time.  They saw ministry in sustainability projects by people willing to stay for 3-6 weeks to focus on a specific project.

God put the very people that I needed in my path today.

Am I tired?  Yes.
Does it seem overwhelming?  Yes.
Will I give up?  No.

Tomorrow will be just as hard as today.  And next week, next month, next year will be hard as well.

But, I remind myself to focus on the positive more than the negative.  To see the possibility.

I Tried

I faced my fear and headed to Chedner's to take the boys to Kokoye. 

 Except the trip didn't happen.  

Twice.

I thought I'd made arrangements to meet the boys at 11:00.  Well, when I arrived only two of them were there, and only one seemed to know about our plans.  The other boys were at school.  I didn't even know that the boys went to school!  It took one of them about 20 minutes to explain to me that the boys were at school and wouldn't be back until after lunch.  Already I was feeling very insecure about my Creole.  I hung around for about 45 minutes and then said I would be back around 1:00.

At 1:00 I headed back over, and this time there were about 4 boys there (I needed 6 of them).  None of them seemed overly anxious to get going, so I patiently waited.  I figured, "This is Haiti.  Nothing happens on time."  While I waited, I talked with the younger kids.  Again, I was reminded just how bad my Creole is. Pretty much felt like an idiot, not being able to understand children.

As hungry as growing teenage boys can be, I guess a free lunch doesn't compare to a World Cup soccer match.  Yes, I was ditched by all the boys because they wanted to watch the soccer match instead.

Oh, well.

I tried.

But, I did have some fun with the younger kids!  And, I got some great pictures.

An Introvert's Dilemmna

I am introvert.  Massively so.  The thought of talking to people I don't know makes me nauseous.  It causes me great anxiety and leads me to think of creative (and sometimes not so creative) excuses lies in order to get out of situations in which I might have to make conversation.

This "introvertedness"--coupled with shyness--even makes me avoid situations with people I know and whom I consider good friends . . . if I have to make conversation, I run like crazy!

This "issue" has been rearing it's ugly head for the past week.  My friend Rhonda, who has been to Haiti with me three times now, sent some money with me to be used for the older boys at Chedner's place.  Back in March these older boys had two puppies, and Rhonda had bought a big bag of puppy food for them (really for the puppies, but you know what I mean).  She wanted me to use this money for the dogs and then maybe find gifts for the boys (like phone minutes).

Well, both puppies died.  And the boys don't have cell phones.  So much for those two ideas.

I opened my big mouth and said that maybe we could all go out to lunch--maybe to Kokoye, a decent restaurant up on Delmas 31--on Monday.  Tomorrow.

Ever since then, I have been trying to think of excuses not to do this.  The thought of taking five boys that I don't know and having to make conversation with them terrifies me.  And, I have to make conversation with them in Creole, which I don't speak so well.  I want to cry.  I want to find some excuse--real or made up--to avoid doing this.  I have some very "passable" excuses at my fingertips:  Lauren is sick, and I need to be at Notre Maison to "keep on eye on things"; I need to help the two new long-term guests get started on their projects; I "forgot"; it would be better to use the money on food for all the boys.  Anything but having to follow through on this.

I know what the right thing to do is, but it will be--so--hard.

Quiet Morning

I woke up this morning with a definite plan: therapy with some kids first, Chedner's place, and then to Rebo Cafe.

Jean-Roland 

Yea. None of that happened.

Lauren woke up feeling horrible--chikungunya.  She has the fever, rash, and aches and pains.  I decided to hang around until the therapy group arrived around 10:30 and stayed to help them.  They are incredible!  We dug an old play kitchen set out of one of the depots, and one of them very patiently put it together (she was still working on it when I left).  It'll be cool for the little kids to play with.

I did spend some time with Wilcia and Jean-Daniel, so I got a bit of "therapy" in.  They both spent time with the walker working on leg strength and balance.  While they were doing that, some of the older boys were able to play with the balance bike--they're having a great time with it!  I tried Maryse on it to see whether she could walk and balance a bit with it, but she seemed scared.  I didn't want to push it, so I took her off.  She was content to return out back and play with blocks.

This was one of the only Saturday mornings when the place didn't seem engulfed in chaos.  Spooky.  Gertrude left around 9:00 to go sell her produce from the garden, but I fear she didn't leave early enough--we'll see.

Lego Boys

As I said earlier, the boys played nicely in the front with the bike; the kids played nicely in the back with the blocks.  Therapy happened.  One volunteer took some Play-Doh in to the toddlers to play with them; I dug out some Legos for the other boys when they tired of the bike.  Everything was copacetic.  Not sure how that happened, but it did.

Well, I ordered my return ticket last night--I come back on Thursday, June 19.  Earlier in the week I was feeling ready to come home.  Now?  Not so much.  This week seemed as if there was a lot of negative energy present, and I found it draining.  I was ready to be away from it.  Things are more positive now, and I have been able to refresh myself.  I don't want to go!  But, I have to.  I know it will all be okay, but I never like the feeling of not knowing when I'll be returning.

Boys and the Blocks

Play Kitchen Parts

Play-Doh

I thought I'd blog a bit this morning since I have the time and energy. 

Sweet little Alexandra!

Alvarez--sweet when he wants to be

The morning has been slow and relaxing.  I did about an hour with the toddlers (they are no longer babies!).  There are five of them, and in a couple of years, they are going to be hell on wheels!  Right now they are manageable because they're little; give 'em a couple of years, and it will be hard to keep them in line.  But, right now I keep enjoying them, even when I have to discipline them--I give 'em a swift swat on the butt (no kneeling for me!).  They don't like it much, and two of them (Christine and Alvarez) have even told me "Kite mwen!" = "Leave me alone!").  That doesn't fly too well with me.

Moise

Found these in the depot--they clean up well!

Once the toddlers were done, I went back to the school, grabbed Oskar, and worked with him for about 30 minutes.  Then came Christine for 30 minutes.  The school had a short break then, so I brought Jephte and Lawrence out front so that they could play with the balance bike.

Kendina

Lawrence figuring out the balance bike

I looked for the balance bike last night, but Gertrude had had it put away in the depot.  I'm not sure what the deal is with always locking things away so that kids can't play with stuff!  I understand that there's a lot of wear and tear on things here when so many kids are playing with just 1-2 of any one thing.  But, if the nannies or other adult supervised, then it wouldn't be such an issue!  I'm just a visitor, but I really don't get it.  Chedner does the same thing!  Every day this week I've taken over games to play with the kids, but then they get locked up in his office so that the kids can't play with them again and I can't play with them again with the kids because Chedner often isn't there when I visit.  I'm going to take him a big tub so that the toys can be stored in that in the nanny's room.  Maybe then we can play with something two days in a row!

When I go visit tonight, I'll take the tub with me--see what happens!

Potpourri

Sorry I haven't blogged since Monday!  Lots has been going on, but I haven't been super tired at night--I have no excuse for not staying up on my writing!

I'll give a quick rundown on the goings-on of the week:

**Visas for the boys have been picked up and the last of the documents delivered to social services (we can pick up the exit letters Tuesday at 2:00).

**My friend Oriol was denied a visa--not surprised, but disappointed.
**I drive my motorcycle lots!  I pretty much just go to Rebo Cafe, but I think I'm ready to venture out more in the coming days.

**I continue to drive the truck around town!  Soon, I think I could be Gertrude's driver.
**I try to get over to Chedner's orphanage every day.  Here are some pictures of those kids:

BeBe

Rousing game of Concentration!

Djeff working at Monkeys in a Barrel

The twins--Kinsely and Kinsle

Coloring

Trying to figure out a Slinky

Woodjerry and Djeff

**Lots of city power today due to a soccer game in the World Cup.

**We've had a group visit every day this week to work with special-needs kids on therapy--so good!

**Lauren and I will meet with another woman next week to make plans for therapy interns to visit daily starting in July--if that happens, the kids could receive daily therapy for over a month!

**This place really needs rain!  But, as it is the dry season, that probably won't happen.  But, I've driven through two dust storms so bad that I had to stop the car in the middle of the alley because visibility was zero.

**I have realized once again that I do not like waiting until the last minute to get things done--means I have to really practice patience because Haitians (at least the ones at Gertrude's) don't really buy into the concept of planning ahead.

**I like being able to walk around in the neighborhood and talk with friends that I've made.

**My Creole is getting better, but I still get pretty shy when speaking, so I clam up a lot--makes it hard to ever become fluent!

**Finally bought a replacement for the broom that I broke the other day.

Thanks for reading!  

Praising God

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

I had one major responsibility on this trip—to take Jameson, Edson, and Michael to their visa appointment today.  As of last night, I thought I may have totally mucked it up.  We didn't have the medical paperwork from the doctor yet, and the doctor still had the passports.

Praise God—it all worked out.  The boys were ready pretty much on time, the kids who had to be dropped off at school were pretty much ready on time (which allowed Gabriel to get to the doctor's office early--by 7:45), traffic was light so my driver got us to the embassy by 7:30 for out 8:00 appointment.  And, even though the doctor didn't arrive at his office until 8:00, Gabriel was able to get everything to the embassy by 8:45!  Unheard of in PAP traffic.

The incredibly nice lady at the gate let us in even though it was past our appointment time.  Once we got into the embassy, people could not have been nicer.  Seriously, every time I had a question, the answer was given to me politely and with a smile.  I've heard from others how horrendous the staff at the embassy can be, but I had a totally different experience.  We didn't have to wait more than 10 minutes for anything to be done. 

God was very good today.  He made things happen that, if it had been left to me or other humans, never would have been accomplished.  Megan, the boys’ adoptive mother, had dozens of folks in MN praying round the clock, and I forced myself to pray every time I grew anxious while waiting this morning.  

Prayer worked.  

S-l-o-w Day

I don't always do well with days of rest.  I quickly become bored and feel as if I should be doing something.  Anything.  Just not nothing.

Today was no different.  I was up early to feed Nadia who decided that she was hungry at 5:20.  Nadia is the 5-month-old baby who still needs more regular supervision than she would receive in the babies' room.  She arrived at St. Joe's in mid-January weighing only 3 lbs. (she was a preemie).  She then spent the next 3 1/2 months at God's Little Angels until she gained 5 more pounds.  At 8 lbs. she was brought back here.  I don't know what she weighs right now, but she looks like a healthy little girl!  Anyway, I was up early to feed her (she sleeps in the room I share with Dixie).

"Baye" blanc--broken

Since I was up, I decided to start cleaning the therapy room.  I'd do little bit, stop, do a little bit more.  At one point I was sweeping so vigorously that I broke the "baye blanc" (white person's broom).  I then had to switch to the "baye Haitianne" (Haitian broom).  I sorted some of the supplies left be the camp staff that was here, I organized the therapy toys, I took a break drank some water, etc.  By this point it was only about 9:30.  It was gonna be a long day!

$70's worth of container!

However, I had the great idea to go the store to look for a storage container for the therapy toys and lotions.  Aniel, the driver, was not around.  But, Gertrude let me take the truck on my own!  Woo hoo!  I drove the grocery store and back, all by myself, without any problems!  Yea me.  I figure I could hire myself out as a driver if I ever decide to move here.

"Baye" Haitienne--not broken

Now it was at least 11:30.  What else to do?  I put all the therapy stuff in the drawers of the container that I just purchased for $70!

Amazing organization!

Then I organized the diapers, underwear, vitamins, and wipes that the team left.  I put all the jewelry beads in the volunteer closet.  Now it was, what, 12:15?  Seriously, a slow day.

Pretty good organization, heh?

Last thing on the list was making plans to get the medical paperwork for Jameson, Edson, and Michael's visa appointment in the morning.  Only God can make this happen: get the kids dropped off to school (which means getting a 15 year old up before the crack of down), get Gabriel to the doctor's office in downtown PAP, have the doctor be on time (open at 7:00 a.m.), and get Gabriel to the U.S. embassy by 8:00.  While all that is going on, my friend Robinson will be taking the boys and me straight to the embassy--we leave at 7:00.  We should arrive on the time.  We just have to pray that for the others everything goes according to schedule.

I'll let you know the results tomorrow night.

Restavek

Restavek: from the French rester--to stay and avek--with
   
In Haiti a restavek is a child sent to stay with another family "as a domestic servant because the parents lack the resources required to support the child."

I have read about restaveks before, but the topic has come back to my attention because of a visit to Respire, a school in Gressier, a town not far from Port-au-Prince.  The school Respire is run by a young lady (about 28) named Megan Boudreaux.

As she shared her story and the history of the school, I learned that about 60% of the students at Respire are restaveks.  She then told a little about restaveks to the kids (high school/college/post-college) who were unaware of what the term meant.  I followed up with a question: "How much of the restavek issue do you think is a result of the extreme poverty in Haiti?"

Her response shocked me: "Not much."

She went to explain that in her opinion, the restavek crisis was primarily the result of a darkness in the land, a result of the voodoo that is still practiced in many rural areas (I guess the mountain on which the school is built was--and still is occasionally--used for voodoo ceremonies).  That answer surprised me.  I understand that spiritual warfare is going on amongst us all the time.  If there are forces of good, then there must be forces of evil.  And, yes, ultimately, every thing that happens in this world can be described/explained in spiritual terms.

But, to down play the role of poverty in the decision to send a child away in hopes that they will have a better life struck me as odd.

So, I did some research last night and today.  Because, there is a distinct possibility that I am wrong.

Here's what I learned:

A restavek is often sent to live with a more affluent family in an urban area so that the child might have access to education and more food in exchange for performing household chores--cooking, cleaning, laundry for the girls and outside chores for boys.

Some reports say that many restaveks live in poverty even though they live with wealthier families and may be beaten, abused, or raped.

The U.N. has declared restavek to be a modern form of slavery.

A 1996 UNICEF study reported that approximately 300,000 restavek children exist in Haiti.  However, UNICEF never disclosed where that number or any other data in the report came from.

The Human Rights Watch estimates between 150,000-500,000 restaveks live in Haiti (no data disclosure).

Jean-Robert Claude, a former restavek, wrote a book about his life in Haiti titled From Haitian Slave Child to Middle-Class American.  The book supposedly details his life as a restavek, but some commentary on the memoir indicates that his situation was not a true restavek experience.

Timothy Schwartz counters many of the claims made in the UNICEF report--and the subsequent media frenzy in the U.S. about the restavek crisis--in his article "The Haitian Restavek and Child Slavery."
     **A Fafo (Institute for Applied International Studies) study surveyed 7,812 families
     **found less abuse than reported in the UNICEF report
     **many restaveks were over the age of 15 (UNICEF's report stated that restaveks were thrown out onto the streets at age 15)
     **Instead of being predominantly girls, 41% were boys
     **60% attended school, contradicting previous reports that restaveks worked long hours with no free time, and especially no time for school

Many reports that have come out in the last five (5) years continue to cite UNICEF's 1996 report while disregarding the Fafo report of the mid-2000s.

In all of my (limited) research I did not find one mention that the restavek crisis was in any way tied to the voodoo religion.

I checked out some sites on voodoo to see whether they mentioned a practice similar to restavek, and I found no such indication.  If would like to learn a bit more about voodoo, you can go to these sites:

http://www2.webster.edu/~corbetre/haiti/voodoo/defense.htm

http://www.gotquestions.org/voodoo-Bible.html

http://www.diffen.com/difference/Christianity_vs_Voodoo

Don't get me wrong; I'm not defending voodoo.  But, to blame it for the restavek crisis doesn't seem fair because it negates the poverty that is behind the need to give up children.  According to Guerda Lexima-Constant of the Haitian Limye Lavi Foundation, the restavek crisis is the result of extreme poverty:

      "I have yet to meet anyone who wanted to send their kid to be a restavec. Parents are forced to              because of a lot of national and international givens. The [economic] means they used to have,              they don’t anymore. The invasion of foreign rice, eggs, and other things on the market by big                  business, destroying the peasant economy . . . there’s been a whole chain of events that makes              some people have to send their child away."

I believe that the restavek crisis is because of poverty, not the influence of voodoo.  However, regardless of why it's a part of Haitian culture, it needs to be done away with.  How to end it?  Education.  Get children into school so that they can have better jobs in the future, providing for steady employment and income, and then maybe future families in Haiti won't be faced with the horrible decision to send a child away to live/work with another family.

No parent should ever have to face that dilemma:

Which child(ren) do I send away so that I can afford to feed the remaining ones?

And I give Megan Boudreaux credit for providing that education not only for the restavek students in her school but also for the families with which they live.  The restavek children attend school, and their "host families" learn how to treat them fairly, take care of them, and see the value in all children receiving an education as a way to the endless cycle of poverty.

Almost Killed

No, not me.

But, the title got your attention, didn't it?

I know it did.

I took off this afternoon on my motorcycle, heading back to Rebo Cafe to get some work done on the computer.  I had trouble starting it at the orphanage, so I was a bit nervous leaving, not sure whether I could get it to go.

I couldn't.

I tried to kick start it, but I'm pathetically weak, so that didn't work.  On one try my foot slipped, and I now have a small cut and a massive bruise on my right ankle.  Fortunately, the kind guard helped me out by setting the choke in the right spot.

I headed right out of the parking lot, which is the normal way home.  But, when I got the big intersection, I had to turn left and cross traffic.  I drove slightly into traffic, ready to turn left, but I got nervous (and no, this is not when people almost died), and turned back around.  I get nervous partly because I'm never confident I won't stall it in the middle of traffic with a big ol' truck coming at me.  I also get nervous because everyone--literally everyone--is staring at the white woman on the motorcycle.  If I goof up, I get laughed at.  Lots.  And I don't like that.

I now had to take a different way home.  I pretty much knew where to go--keep driving north and west until I hit Rte. National #1.  Got there no problem.  Traffic was heavy, but not HEAVY.  Nothing I hadn't driven in before.

I approached my turn (left--crossing traffic again).  In the middle of the road (I'd say the left lane, but lanes don't exist).  Ready to turn.  I timed it almost perfectly.  Almost.  At the last minute a truck approached.  I panicked.

When I panic I forget where the brakes are.  I was only in 1st gear, but I rev the motor, 1st gear sounds dangerous!  Instead of braking, I revved the engine.  I was terrified of stalling, but instead I shot out towards three innocent ladies trying to cross the road.  They scattered.  I apologized profusely as I flew through them. One helpful guy yelled out, "Slowly!  Slowly!"  Yea, like I didn't know that.

Those poor ladies almost lost their lives to me today.  Okay.  Not really.  But, it makes for a good story, eh?

I adverted disaster on that road crossing, but I was not home yet.  Not by a long shot.

I needed air in my rear tire.  I knew this before I left, but I waited until on the way back.  I didn't really understand the directions that Gabriel--the tutor at the orphanage--gave me on where to find some guys who could fill up the tire, but I thought I could find some help on my own.  I did.  But, I was apprehensive much of the time.

I stopped by some guys who had helped me yesterday, and I made it known that I needed air in my tire.  One guy offered to show me where, so I let him drive me (I admit to being shook up after the earlier incident).  He was a horrible driver!  He seriously scared me.

He took me to the one place I didn't want to be--some guys not far away who always shout horrible things at me in English.  They scare me a bit.  We arrived, and I felt as if they were pretty much laughing at me, but I didn't know why.

My concern grew when they took the tube out of the back tire.  They pumped it up and kept washing it in water.  Then they'd deflate it, pump it up, and wash it again.  I worried that they were going to charge me an arm and a leg for this.  Whatever "this" was.

It finally dawned on me that they were looking for a hole.  I explained that there wasn't a hole.  I just needed air.  There were able to finish in minutes once I could communicate clearly what I needed.  Then came time to pay.  $2!  That's it--$2 American.  Relief.

I then drove the other guy back toward his friends and paid him $2 for his help.  For all my worry, it only cost me $4.  Thank God.

Since I am typing this tonight, you all know I arrived home safely.

Guess I just need to keep practicing!

A Good One

Another good day with the swimming.  We were able to take about 15 kids, and all but one had a great time.  Tassie didn't want anything to do with the water, but he loved the bus ride there and the ride back.  He also seemed to enjoy peeing on the bushes at the hotel.  Whatever works.

Phonsley splashing

I had the best time watching Phonsley play in the water.  Last year when I took him to water therapy, he was hit and miss.  I think the colder water at the Caribbean Lodge was too much for him.  The pool water at the Elite Hotel is warmer, so Phonsley was able to relax.  He laughed and splashed and batted the ball around for over an hour.  He played with Alvarez some.  He was a happy little boy.

Jean-Daniel kicking

Alvarez and my Christine took to the water like they were fish!  Alvarez continually dunked his head under the water while Christine blew bubbles.  We even taught them how to jump in--we created monsters!

Alvarez relaxing

The adults working with the kids were great.  They're not afraid to jump right in and work with the kids.  I keep telling them that the kids won't break--bounce them in the water.  See what happens.  The adults did great.  Amy, who came with Healing Haiti, worked with Jean-Daniel, and she did a great job.  She had Jean-Daniel splashing in the water, kicking his legs, and laughing his head off!  He smiled non-stop the entire time he was in the water.

This morning I got my motorcycle out to get it ready to ride.  The front tire was flat, and I wasn't sure how much gas.  Enter Roberto!  He took it and aired up the tire and put some gas in.  I really need to give him so money for it--the $20 I gave him covered the air and the gas.  So, I went out for my first ride.  Didn't even need to practice in the neighborhood first!  Yea--I haven't forgotten how to do it.

My ride took me to Rebo Cafe, not far from Notre Maison.  I spent about two hours sipping Coke, munching on plantain chips and pain au chocolat, enjoying the air conditioning.  The cool and quite felt good.  Real good.  I caught up on e-mails without having to wait endlessly for a page to come up only to be told that the server couldn't find the page!

More dancing today!

All in all, a good day.

Alexandra--we're working on her medical visa

Smiles all around!

The Face of God

I saw God today.

He appeared in the faces of every staff member from Champion Camps.

He appeared in the face every child blessed to be a part of the camp activities today.

See what I saw:

Busy.  Busy.  Busy.  From the time I got up to right now, I have been on the go. 

But, I don’t mind.  Because, you see, today I got to do what I so love—introduce others to the kids, the orphanage, the neighborhood, and the country. 

I loved getting them involved with feeding the kids, with orienting them to the routines, with answering their questions.  On their break a handful came with me to Chedner’s to drop off clothes, sheets, diapers, and toys, and then to pick up the swimsuits we’ll need for swim therapy for the next three days.  The group is so adventurous . . . they want to see as much as they can while they are here and are not afraid to walk around the neighborhood.

I don’t know why the Internet is being so temperamental, but I have not been able to log on since the night I arrived.  I may try to head to Rebo Café to see whether I can connect there—you’ll know whether I could if you see this post! 

I know I promised lots of pictures today, but I was just too busy again to take them.  Tomorrow?  Maybe at swim therapy.

My goal for tomorrow is to get the motorcycle out and taking it for a spin around the neighborhood to make sure I can still drive it before heading out onto the streets!  I fill you in on how that goes!

Gibson--visiting from Chedner's orphanage

Forlan relaxing

Afternoon party