On Starting a New Job. In a Foreign Country.

            So, I finally have time to blog.  I’ve been on the new job for just over a month now, and, to sum it all up, it’s just different.  In every way.

In-Service Week

            As a new person, I was expecting someone to welcome me, introduce me to others, say “hello.”  Not so much.  Thank God I have experience so I wasn’t too unnerved, but my natural shyness and introvertedness made me a bit awkward.  No “New Teacher Mentoring” going on here.

            The meetings themselves were like in the U.S.—going over handbooks and policies, short seminars on instruction, etc., time to plan in our rooms.  Lots of teachers complaining about administration.  Typical.

1^st Week of Class

            The first week was ½ days, and teachers pretty much went over rules with the kids and got them used to their schedules.  Most of this was done in their homerooms, and since I don’t have a homeroom, I didn’t really see my kids that first week.  They were also still figuring out what rooms I would be teaching in, so I didn’t really know where I would be or when until well into the first week.  So different.

            Then, I was told that the schedule didn’t really change on Wednesdays when we had chapel, but that didn’t turn out to be true.  The schedule is adjusted a bit.  But, they forgot to tell me.  Didn’t find out about it until the first full Wednesday when we had chapel.  But, this week I got to work in my counseling office a lot and do lesson.  I did get in to meet all of my students at least once this week, but it was just a quick “Hi, I’m Miss Jamie.  You’ll see me more next week.”

1^st Week of Full-Day Classes

            Teaching four different classes in four different rooms is hard.  Just plain hard.  The kids all know each other, but I don’t know them.  I can hardly pronounce some of the names.  Some of the kids are gracious about it; others . . . not so much.  Then, I can’t tell which name is the first name and which is the last name!  Some of the kids were listed the American way (first name, last name); others the Haitian way (last name, every middle name under the sun, first name). And they all whispered!  I couldn’t hear anyone! 

            The other thing I learned this week is that I have my 10^th grade literature class only three days a week.  No one told me that.  In fact, they had told me that I saw my 9^th grade literature class three days a week.  But that was wrong.  I have them five days a week.  But, on Thursdays and Fridays, I have the 9^th grade boys at one time, and the 9^th grade girls at another time.  No one told me that either! 

            This is also the week when I learned that most of the rules in the student handbook are not followed.  That awesome rule about raising your hand and waiting to be called on?  Kids don’t follow it.  That cool one about the teacher ringing the bell, students standing up, and then the teacher dismissing the class?  Nope.  Not happening.  No backpacks in class?  I trip over them in the aisles constantly.  I was worried about being able to remember all the rules and procedures myself, but turns out I don’t have to worry about it because none of those rules are really followed!

The Rest of the Weeks

            Life has settled down.  I’m in a good routine.  I have started to see kids in my counseling office.  I have some counseling lessons planned for next week.  I’m figuring it out.  But, every day I realize all over again that I am in a different country!

            I learned last week that this is the first year that high school students have had a literature course.  Before, they had 1-2 days of literature each week.  So, the students do not have the literature background that I thought.  I knew that for all my kids English was their 3^rd language and that that would factor into the learning.  I just didn’t realize how much.  Most of them speak fluently, but not all.  My asking them to read Mark Twain and “get” the dialect is next to impossible.  Asking them to read “The Nightingale and the Glowworm” written by some dead white guy back in the 1800s is only going to frustrate everyone.  Which it has.

            I took a look at the standardized test scores on the Terra Nova from last year.  If I read it correctly, this year’s 9^th grade class has 75% of its students reading below the 40^th percentile.  They’re hoping I can boost reading scores.  I need help.

What I’ve Learned

            All of my students are ELL students.   I need to find high-interest, low-level reading to get my students into it.  I have a lot to learn about teaching! 

            This school has rules and procedures and standards without really knowing why they are there.  I think this happens when a school is founded and run by people who don’t have a background in education.  However, those same people love these students and are doing everything they can to provide a solid education for their students.  And, they’re doing it!  This system may not be perfect, but it is working for many of the kids.  And, the teachers here are good.  They know what they’re doing.  I can learn from them. 

            The pressure to succeed for Haitian students is just as high as it is for American students.  They want to do well.  They want to please their parents.  They want to go to college.  They have dreams.  Haiti’s hard life sometimes makes all that harder to do.

            When students don’t do well or they get in trouble, they can be beaten.  Seriously.  Beaten.  Here at school.  Not by school staff, but by their parents who are going to show the school that they can “take care of the problem.”  Let me tell you, I will think long and hard before giving students detentions.  The consequences can be severe, and I better make sure that whatever the student did in my room to annoy me or aggravate me or try my patience, better be worth a beating because it may happen.  For real.

On a Totally Different Note

            I have not been over to the orphanage as much as I had planned.  That makes me sad.  I have to work at not letting my job take over my life as it did in the States.  The whole point of my being here is to be able to spend more time with the kids, so this month I need to make that more of a priority.

            My motorcycle is giving me fits.  Some great friends sent me a helmet to wear, but I haven’t been able to ride since the helmet arrived!  The battery was dead, so I charged it.  But, it still doesn’t start consistently.  I think I may need to check the oil, but I can’t find where to do that.  Gonna have to ask!

            I hardly speak any Creole at all, which totally makes me sad!  I live in Haiti, and it’s easy to forget that because I live on site.  I get super nervous speaking Creole—I’ve lost any confidence that I gained over the summer.

            I am really enjoying counseling again.  A part of me wishes I never got out of it in the first place, but it seemed like the right move at the time.  But, it’s been good to work with kids 1-1 again.  My counseling skills are really going to be stretched because I am also working with elementary school kids for the first time.  I had my first meeting with an elementary student today.  A little boy in 3^rd grade.  He came into my office all shaking this morning.  Nervous.  I felt so bad for him.  Thankfully, I had thought to grab some crayons and construction paper, so after I explained what “introductions” were and we had practiced it, we did some drawing and coloring while we talked.  He said he’d like to come back to talk with me because he wants to learn how to not be nervous talking with kids so that he can make some friends. 

            So many parts of this job—teaching literature and counseling—seem familiar but are so different from anything I’ve done in the last 24 years.  How can it be so much the same and so unfamiliar at the same time?

Am I glad I’m here?  Yes.  Absolutely.  It’s all just different.

A Different Kind of Summer

            Pretty typically when I come to Haiti, my focus is on the kids—hanging out with them, providing therapy, making sure they are kept busy . . . those kinds of things.  I often spend much of my time at the orphanage or in the neighborhood.  This summer, though, has been different.

Interns

            With four interns here this summer, the therapy and hanging with the kids was taken care of.  I didn’t spend much time in the therapy room because I handed that off to Jordan, Skyler, and Manda.  Even keeping the kids entertained before summer camp and late in the afternoon fell to the interns.  They did a great job, and they developed great relationships with the kids.  I did interact with the kids . . . just not as much.  I probably did more observing of the interactions between the interns and the kids, which was awesome.  I loved seeing how the kids connected with these young ladies and really developed trust with them. 

            My role as supervisor made me feel one step removed from the kids and how my time is usually spent here.  Don’t get me wrong, I still hung out with the kids—Bingo in the evening and playground time in the morning—but it was still just different.  Even meal times were different.  With the four interns, I wasn’t needed as much to help feed, and during that time I was often helping Abby handle her responsibilities with Junior and Judeline. 

Networking

            I haven’t spent this much time networking since my first extended stay back in 2013!  Abby’s work with Haiti Mama has led me to work more closely with them.  I have Tausha’s contact information, and we will continue to be in touch as long as Judeline and Junior are here.   Even the connection with Patrick, a Haiti Mama social worker who helped Abby with her assessments, could continue if he really wants to follow up on some of the conversations they had with the kids.

            I now have contacts with Dr. Nau, who saw Phonsley, Oskar, and Jean Ronald.  He is someone that I feel I could check in with if I have questions in the future about the kids or just if I’m looking for other resources for the kids.  Like the surgeons who come in and work on kids like Jean Ronald.  Dr. Nau mentioned it to me at the first appointment, and when I emailed him with follow-up questions, he said he would get the information to me.  Because of him, I know where to go to get good x-rays and I have connections at Healing Hands for Haiti.  I feel as if new parts of Haiti are opening up to me!

            I also learned about a counseling agency here in PAP that I never would have known existed had I not been connected with Haiti Mama.  The place is called Espere Counseling Center, and it is up above Petion-ville.  I hope to connect some of our kids with them because they seem to have resources that would benefit our kids.

Money

            I can’t say that this is an area of growth because I still question people’s honesty with me and their overtures of friendship.  I have to say that I’m disappointed in myself for still questioning people, especially people I know.  For example, a lady who sells her wares at the orphanage and who has been nothing but giving and kind to me asked for some money earlier this week.  She said that her family was hungry and that she didn’t have money to buy food.  My first instinct was not to give her the money.  My first thoughts were “what kind of story is she telling me?”  I hardened my heart to her simply because others have first asked for money and then claimed to be my friend.  Even after I said no to her, she gave me a bracelet that she had made. 

            She honored our relationship by asking for help and not being upset when the answer was “no.”  I do not deserve that kind of friendship.  Instead of trusting, I first questioned, judged, and thought of my future needs.  Future needs?  My future needs are more than taken care of.  Her present needs were not.  In my very judgmental mind, I put myself above her instead of seeing us as equals.  My thoughts and actions show that not only am I not above her, I’m not sure I’m even her equal. 

            God didn’t let my heart stay hardened to her for long.  Later than morning we were able to share a ride, and I slipped her some gourdes.  Not much—what is $5 to a wealthy Amerian?—but it was enough to meet her needs for that day.  I won’t say no to her again.  I will work to honor our friendship as she has.  I will respect the strength of character that it takes to ask for help.  I will be better.

Independence

           I love that I have so much more independence than I’ve had before.  And, it’s not just because my motorcycle is finally working.  It’s more that I trust myself to get by and figure things out in Creole.  The language camp has a lot to do with that.  I make a lot of mistakes in the language, but I can get my point across and, for the most part, understand answers.  With that new found confidence, I went to a road side stand and had a new battery put in my motorcycle.  I have been able to buy gas for the motorcycle on my own—I know that may not seem like a big deal, but to me it is!  I found a place to scan documents when I needed to.  I’m starting to believe that I can function in this country without always having to go to Gertrude first.  It’s been great having her as a resource for the past three years, but I like being able to be independent.  I hope that as I settle in at school that those feelings of independence grow.

Orphan Care

           Prior to this summer, I was all about the adoption process.  That was all I knew.  This summer’s focus has been on family reunification and/or foster care.  This didn’t happen by choice.  We had two children go back to live with a birth parent and extended family, which got me thinking about why there are so many “orphans” in Haiti.  I learned the term “economic orphan”—children placed in orphanages because parents can’t afford to care for them.  I learned about a fledgling foster-care program up in Petion-ville.  I heard new friends talk passionately about creating children’s homes so that Haiti’s future isn’t adopted out to the U.S. or Canada.  I heard stories, and accusations, of adoption-for-profit.

            Adoption in and of itself is not bad.  But, it needs to be handled so delicately, especially when a birth parent is still alive.  Counseling is needed for children living in Haiti’s orphanages because they are talking about where they came from.  They are talking about family that lives “lot bo”—out there.  They are talking about their hopes of reconnecting somewhere down the line.  They tell themselves that family didn’t really leave them some place—it was a mistake.  All of this needs to be addressed so that Haiti’s future grows up emotionally healthy, more ready to tackle the needs of this country than its current leaders.

            This summer marks the end of 3.5 years of blogging about my short-term stays in Haiti.  It has been an amazing journey, and I am so glad that I have blogged because it provides the story of my experiences here up to this point. 

            Tomorrow I start a different part of my journey in Haiti—the long-term, more permanent part.  I move in to my new digs at Morning Star Christian Academy where I will be teaching for at least the next school year.  God willing, the teaching gig will last more than a couple of years, I will learn what it means to live—really live—in a foreign country, especially one like Haiti.

Don’t know what that will be like, but as they say in Haiti: “Jezi konnen.”

An Unusual Day

Nadia just always makes a
day better!

           
What makes an unusual day in Haiti?  Good question.  Let me start by sharing what a "usual" day can look like:

     1.  Plan to get one thing done.
     2.  Be happy if you almost get that one thing done.
     3.  Traffic jams ("blokis") slow down everything so that almost getting that one thing done seems              like an accomplishment.
     4.  You can never fit in an extra appointment.
     5.  Things cost more than you anticipated.
     6.  The kids are wild and out of control.

Phonsley loves being in the
"machin."

You can probably start to guess what made today so unusual.  First, we had plans to get 2-3 things done: have the kids get x-rays taken, have a group visit at 3:30, and have the battery in my motorcycle changed.  We got two of those three things done (the group didn't show, so it probably doesn't really count that we "didn't get it done").

Christine and her creation

Not only did we get x-rays taken for Phonsley, Jean-Ronald, and Oskar; but we stopped by the doctor's office to make an appointment for them to be read at a later date.  However, the doctor was free at the moment, so he read them for us right away.  AND, we did not have to pay for that consultation.  AND, we have referrals to Healing Hands for Haiti for the kids to begin therapy.  AND, we have an appointment for all there boys Monday morning.  Yea--God is good!

Not only did we get all that done, but we did it in 3.5 hours, which is unheard of!  Thank you, God, for no "blokis"!

The group didn't show up, so we had some time to relax, and then I went to have the new battery put in my motorcycle.  They had it.  They put it in.  The battery works!  I can actually start the bike with the kick start, and if I want the ignition start to work, then I need to take it back when the "big boss" is there.

Naika working hard

I got back from the motorcycle business to find some of the kids upstairs with the interns nicely playing with Legos.  Who'da thunk?  And, later tonight when we played Bingo, they still behaved!

Bradley's feeling a bit better!

Seriously . . . now do you understand why today was so unusual?

U.N. Visit

           

Cute G.I. Joe soldier dancing
with Christella

             I have always wondered why the U.N. is in Haiti.  And, U.N. troops have always kinda scared me . . . pretty much all people with guns slung over their shoulders scare me.  Having said that, my only prior interaction with the U.N. was quite pleasant: a U.N. patrol car pulled me over about three years ago while I was driving my motorcycle—they just wanted to make sure I was okay.

Maxo always finds someone to hug!

            Today, I had more interactions with U.N. troops.  They came to hang out with our kids, provide lunch, and do some medical exams of our kids who have been sick.  I loved it!  The troops were awesome! 

            The group was pretty much all from Argentina, except one incredibly gorgeous guy who is from Brazil.  Gertrude was out running errands, so I got “to be in charge” . . . she even said so!  They arrived about 10:45, and right away got food in the kitchen so that it would be ready to go by 12:30.  The medical team came upstairs with me while the rest of the group went out back to play with the kids.

Medical team

            The medical stuff was interesting.  I knew which kids I wanted them to see—Keloke, Kethia, Nadia, Bradley, Junior, Judeline, Naika, and Sarah.  These kids have been sick on and off for the past two weeks, so I thought “why not have them checked out?”  Well, because the team is from Argentina (except for the hunk we labeled G.I. Joe), they all speak Spanish and some English.  Thank God I attend a church that has bilingual services in Spanish because I could actually understand some of what was being said.  Thank God for Abby who speaks Spanish because her dad’s side of the family is from Mexico.  Thank God for Rosie who is fluent in English and Creole.

            Here’s the way it worked: medical staff checked out the kids and spoke in Spanish.  Abby translated the Spanish into English.  Rosie then translated the English into Creole for her aunt, Suze, who is the nurse at the orphanage.  Pretty slick operation we had going!

            Many of the kids were doing fine, but some of the others need to be checked out.  Thanks to the U.N. troops we know that we need to get a nebulizer so that 2-3 of the kids can be treated for bronchitis or asthma.  We know that we need to get another child to the clinic for a urine sample because their might be a urinary tract infection.  We know that we have at least one child who needs a very different diet: six small meals a day, mostly bland (rice, applesauce, polenta, some bananas) . . . basically the BRAT diet. 

Jacky found a friend  . . . so happy
for him!

            Once the medical stuff was done, I was able to go down and hang with the other kids and soldiers.  It was so cool to see!  G.I. Joe was dancing with Christella—like really dancing, the way gentlemen used to dance with ladies.  Alvarez fell asleep in the arms of one female soldier.  I think it was Carlos who ended up pushing Princess Wilcia around for a while. 

            The kids loved the food the group brought—a goulash-type meal.   There was plenty to go around, and it was definitely better than the typical rice and beans or cornmeal mush and beans they get at lunch (I know because the kids shared some of the goulash with me and I have had the unfortunate luck of having tasted some of the rice/cornmeal mush/beans concoctions).

             I still really don’t know what the U.N. is doing in Haiti.  But, I do know that today, as in May when they came, they provided our kids with good food, attention, and lots of fun.  That’s not bad for a day’s work

Yes, I Can!

           Yea!  I did it!  I finally proved to myself that I can function in this country with the language skills that I have.  I have always doubted myself because so often when I speak Creole at the orphanage the kids and staff look at me as if I’m speaking Chinese with four heads.

            Twice in two days, though, I have attempted important things on my own and been successful.  My motorcycle has been fixed—for the most part—but I still need practice.  I went out yesterday, and the thing died on me.  I know the battery is bad as is the crank (the ignition switch doesn’t work because the battery is bad).  I asked for help on the street, but the nice guys couldn’t do anything.  I asked them—in Creole—if there was still that motorcycle “shop” down the way.  They said “yes” and pointed me in the right direction.  When I stopped where I thought it was, it wasn’t there.  But . . . no worries!  I asked the lady where it was, and she told me to keep going and to cross the street.

            I found the guys and was able to ask for help, explain what I needed, and understand the response.  I definitely need a new battery, which will only cost me 1000 gdes (about $16 American).  I hope to make it back tomorrow or Thursday to buy the new battery.

Phonsley waiting at the doctor's office

Oskar and Phonsley--I was
bored, so I took pictures
through the window.

            Then, today I took three of the kids to the orthopedic doctor to get a script for x-rays for them.  The nice doctor—Dr. Nau (pronounced “No”)—and I spoke Creole.  I understood him, and he understood me!  Sweet.  He sent us to the x-ray place right away, but we just missed the technician . . . he headed home 15 minutes early because he didn’t want to be out in the rain.  No big deal, but I was able to talk and joke with the other workers about the place closing up shop before the official closing time.  Again, score for my Creole skills!

            I am in no way fluent, but these small successes give me so much confidence that I can live and work in Haiti without being dependent on others.  

Kokobe

            Kokobe.  I can’t stand that word.  No.  I hate that word.  It is the Creole equivalent of retard.  I hear it on the streets when we take our children with special needs on walks in the neighborhood. 

Interns and Brilner taking a walk

Christine--child of God

  People stare. 
  Sometimes they follow us. 
  I hear them whisper, “Kokebe.”
  
 I say nothing to the people.  My language skills aren’t that strong.  I don’t know how to beat down the cultural stereotypes in just a few words during a shorter-than-brief encounter.

I do talk to our children.  I tell them they are strong and brave.  I tell them I love their personalities.  I tell them that they are beautiful.  I can say that in Creole.  I hope the gawkers overhear. 

Kokobe is a curse—someone did something wrong, and now the child is kokobe.  Best to put it far away from you and the family.

 Kokobe is catching—don’t get to close or you might catch it and be kokoke, too.

Kokobe is less than.

One time last summer, a young man walked along side me as I walked with one of our special-needs girls.  He asked what was wrong with her.  I said, “Nothing.”  I explained that when she was younger she had a kriz—a seizure—and that was why she had to re-learn how to walk.  Well, a kriz is right down there with kokobe.  I told him that she liked to walk, that she was shy, that she liked to play with dolls.  He looked at me as if I had four heads—how could kokobe have likes and interests and wants and personality?

Manda and Rosaline

I have spent the past 3-4 years getting to know these kids.  They have personalities.  They have senses of humor.  They have likes and dislikes.  They have friends. 

I know that Rosaline is shy.  She is modest.  She loves to draw.  She loves to have dolls around.

Nathalie has a wicked sense of humor. Careful when you walk around her because she loves to stick her leg out and watch you stumble.  She loves her school teachers.  She loves music. 

Wilcia is ready for that beach!

Wilcia is a princess.  She is perfectly content to let others wait on her.  She dances to music every time it comes on.  She is a people person—the more the merrier!  She and Junior laugh and joke for hours on end! 

Phonsley playing catch

Phonsley is good friends with Jonathon.  Phonsley loves to draw and play with cars.  He will throw a ball to you forever.

The kids here are not kokobe.

There is no kokebe.

A Family Kind of Day

          Today started with the group--Manda and her family, Susan, Erin, and the interns--going to church.  They enjoyed it even though they couldn't understand any of it; my Creole is so much better that I understood much of it.

          Kevin and Nick, Mand'a dad and brother, finished putting up the tables in the therapy room--I am so excited to be able to use them this week!  They fixed the cow, fixed a light, and fixed a fixture--these guys are good!

          The next stop was walking to Divine Family to take the kids there and Lauren and Chedner to lunch, courtesy of Donna.  Kevin and Nick came with us because everyone else had gone to the Visa Lodge to relax.  The kids were ready when we arrived, except Kinslee who didn't want to put a shirt on.  Chedner, of course, needed to shower and dress (he's all about looking good).  We finally had everybody ready and headed to The Family, a small restaurant in the neighborhood.

           We had a good time--the kids behaved beautifully!  The food was good--when it finally arrived 2.5 hours after ordering!

Bringing in the tables

          I know service in Haitian restaurants is slow, but this was ridiculous!  I even told Gertrude three times when we would be there.  When we arrived, they were still bringing in tables that had been moved for a wedding reception the day before (the tables were coming in through a window-type opening that led to the roof, I think).  The cook wasn't there.  The food wasn't there!

Hanging with friends

          We ordered drinks, and Chedner had to go out to get them.  We ordered our meals--chicken and rice and beans for everyone (that's pretty much the only thing on the menu now), and then the cook (who had finally arrived) had to go out and buy the food needed to make the meals!

Having fun

          We are so lucky that the kids are well behaved and easily entertained.  Picture taking filled up lots of time.  So did creating a deck of cards in Creole for Heads Up.  We played a few rounds of Heads Up, which was hysterical because the kids were confused about the concept and just kept reading the words instead of acting them out; Susan was learning Creole, so she wasn't always sure what the Creole words were; and I had memorized the order of the words.  It may not have been what Ellen Degeneres intended, but it worked for us.

Tanya has attitude!

        The meal came.  Everyone had their fill.  And then we had to pay the bill.  Took an hour to tally it up!  Why, I'm not sure.  But, once it was tallied, it had to be double checked.  Twice.  Not sure why since our group was the only one in the place!

Famished from waiting for the
food!

          I really want The Family to be a place to take visitors to give them a sense of a typical Haitian restaurant, but I can't take anyone there again.  It's just too aggravating!  On the plus side?  The kids had fun, we got to hang out with Lauren and Chedner and talk with them, and we have good stories to tell!

Tet Chaje (Overwhelmed)

          You know, today started out well.  Headed out to the store without any problems.  Found everything we needed: pheno for Judeline, Epi pen stuff for Erin, books for Susan, and groceries for all.  Hanging out in the therapy room went well.  My lunch went well.

          When did it all get off track?

          Lunch.  That's what did us in.  We have a number of children who struggle with the whole eating process: opening their mouths, keeping the food in, swallowing.  You name it, they struggle with it.  Today, little Junior was not being fed properly, and he started to cough.  And then choke.  And the person feeding him wouldn't let him cough.  The spoon was held over his mouth so that he couldn't really cough.

           I stepped in and held him so that he could cough.  The women knew that I was upset, as was everyone around.  I was too angry to be able to tactfully find a way to finish feeding him, when one of the interns stepped in and did what I couldn't do: she gracefully took over and never made the other woman feel bad.  I was so thankful that she had the gifts that Junior needed in that moment.

          I was so upset that I could barely finish working with the child that I had before heading up to the roof.  We brought Junior up with us, and he struggled to relax.  Erin held him until he calmed down, and we were able to settle him down so that he could sleep.  He was able to spend the rest of the day up on the roof sleeping or being held.

           The supper meal didn't go so well either.  This time, it wasn't the struggling eaters but the dippy able-bodied kids and food grabbers who created the chaos!  Brilner snagged a bunch of extra food when we weren't paying 100%; Gabrielle thought it was funny to smack everyone--hard; Jephte was literally stealing plates of food from pretty much everyone, especially Skyler (I think he might have been flirting).  I don't know what happened, but meal time was not good!

           Based on the frenetic energy of the kids, I decided to cancel the Saturday night Bingo session we had planned.  I didn't think they needed to get all hopped up again, this time at my own doing.  I can probably re-schedule it for tomorrow when I have more energy and the kids have less!

Valencia avoiding work in the
therapy room

           Just as a reminder that I love these children and that most of the time they are amazing, here are some pictures of happier moments:

Summer camp singing: Kethia and Bebe

Bradley loves to play

Nathalie loves the attention in the
therapy room!

Slow Day

Another day down.  I had to drop Sarah off at the airport this morning, which bummed me out.  I had such a great time having her here.  I know the kids already miss her—they wanted to know when she was coming back!

Jean-Ronald loved the rattle

Too much jerry rigging!

We went slowly this morning, mostly helping in the therapy room.  We had to readjust some of the car seats for Jean-Ronald and Derson.  We decided that trying to jerry rig the car seats was more hassle than it was worth.  No matter what we did, Jean-Ronald had his neck unsupported or his back unsupported, and we were tying too many pieces of Styrofoam in trying to get him positioned correctly.  We took everything out and positioned him just propped up along the side, and we decided that would work for the most part.  When he’s in the therapy room, we can put a wedge on the one side to keep his head turned to the left.  We also spent a lot of time with him on his belly massaging his back, and he did a good job keeping his head straight.  The boy just might be making some progress!

Bradley preferred toys over the cow

I also spent some time with Bradley in the therapy room.  Susan and I had fixed the little cow toddler scooter, and I thought it was the right height for him.  I was right! It fit him perfectly.  Unfortunately, he showed no interest in pushing him.  Jordan suggested that I put his feet through the motions of pushing, which I tried.  He’s going to need more practice.  It boggles my mind that some kids have to be taught what I perceive as basic skills, and it impresses me no end that people like Jordan know how to do it!  I have already learned so much from her and her insights into physical therapy.  So glad she is here running the therapy room this summer.

It's hard to get Nathalie to relax

I had great plans this afternoon to get paperwork done, but instead I slept.  For three hours.  Drooled and sweated.  Not a productive afternoon, but much needed.  The long nap also kept me from getting in my 10,000 steps, so in between writing I do laps around the roof!

Took a walk after supper (working on those steps!) and saw the most bizarre sight ever.  Two dogs stood in the distance, and we all had puzzled looks on our faces.  We all asked about the same time, “What are those dogs doing?” 

They were butt to butt and sort of walking in circles.  We walked closer.  I asked, “Are they Siamese dogs?”

Siamese dogs?

“No, they can’t be,” came Erin’s response.

I don’t think they are Siamese dogs, but they were stuck together by one of their hind legs.  I have the horrible suspicion that they somehow got stuck together: Tar?  Glue?  Something else?  We wanted to stop and try to help, but that’s not safe. 

I’m going to stick my head in the sand and choose to believe that they are Siamese dogs who have somehow found a way to survive and thrive.

Settled

Morning Star library

       



 Today has been good.  For the first time since arriving in early June, I feel settled and at home.  It took awhile this time, but I believe a lot of that had to do with waiting around for the language boot camp to start and having too much time to wonder about my move to Haiti.  The language camp helped because I now feel as if I can get around more independently, and if I DO get lost, I have the language skills needed to get back.
       

Entrance to Morning Star

          I am also looking forward to the start of the school year--said no American teacher ever early in July!  But I am.  It helped to take friends and family to Morning Star this morning to show them the campus.  I feel so much better knowing that they like the campus and like knowing where I will be for the next year.

Morning Star logo: we are the Warriors!

         My sense of feeling settled also comes from finally feeling organized--not only in my physical stuff but also in my cyber world stuff--it was really bothering me that pictures from my boot camp were all over the place and that my summer album was out of order.  It also helps that I was able to submit my application for the Affordable Care Act this afternoon--that is a weight off my shoulders!

         God at Work:

Friends

          Intern Abby has been working hard with Judeline and Junior, two severely neglected, mistreated, and malnourished children rescued from another orphanage.  She has been carrying weight on her shoulders about their next placement, and late this morning, she received an answer to prayer.  The children will not be going  to another orphanage, but will most likely be going to a communal living place in Jacmel.  It is a relatively new organization, and they look for adults who will serve as parents for children--living with them and caring for them. The women who is interested in taking these two children also has medical training!  God could not have answered prayers in a more perfect way.

Susan and our driver Aniel shooting pool
at Apparent Project

Hanging with the interns 

          Abby is obviously doing great things because this afternoon at the Apparent Project when she needed to send social work notes to the director of the home in Jacmel, her computer went kaput.  Something did not want Abby to keep doing this great work!  But, with the help of Erin, our resident computer expert; Susan with her wise counseling skills; and Erin's Uncle John on a business trip in Australia, her computer was fixed and the notes were sent!  God will not let Abby's work be for naught.

     

Routine

More therapy!

Well, I am finally settled into a bit of a routine: morning on the roof, “staff” meeting on the roof with the interns, morning working with the children or in the therapy room, afternoon walk and/or slower work that doesn’t work up a sweat, supper, and then relaxing on the roof to wrap it all up!

           Now that the routine has been established, I can start blogging regularly (especially now that internet access is more consistent). 

Sarah and Ein ready for their "boat" tour

Sarah had crab for the first time!

            I have absolutely LOVED having Erin, Susan, Sarah here to share Haiti with me.  I love seeing it through their eyes and seeing their wonder at the diversity in Haiti (especially for Sarah and Erin, both first-timers).  Even Susan, who has been here 4-5 times, sees things in a new light now that she understands the culture better.  Better yet, when I go home, I have more people that I can talk with about Haiti who know the people here and can imagine the places that I’m talking about!

Walking with Wilcia as part of her therapy

            I love seeing Sarah work and play with the kids—the kids love her (no big surprise there), and she constantly has a smile on her face.  I will hear her say “I’m gonna go hang with the kids” or “I’m gonna go see whether they need help feeding.”  Nothing has phased her yet.

Phonsley is hard at work

        My role has “supervisor”—yes, Abby, you can laugh if you are reading this!—is much different this year than last.  I have been here the whole time and have been able to work with each intern, helping them to settle it.  The morning meetings that I envisioned last year have finally come to fruition this year, which helps me feel as if I am providing them with the guidance that they need.  I appreciate how they have connected and how they support each other; they will be able to help each other when one is feeling down.

Wilcia loves going for walks

            I know I have written briefly about my time at the Creole Bootcamp, but I want to share just how much I learned.  I can talk with people that I don’t know and get my point across.  It’s not always easy, but I have so much more confidence in my ability to make myself understood.  It’s still hard with some people because of the rate at which they speak or because of an accent, but I really am getting it.  It’s just fun to be able to communicate with the folks that I am living with!

Creole Boot Camp

     I know I haven’t blogged much since arriving in Haiti at the end of May, but in my defense, the last three weeks in Montrious have pretty much been without internet!  What I want to share now are my experiences at the Creole Boot Camp I attended from June 8-­­­­­­27. 

      I expected to work hard, but it’s been since . . . well, since forever that I have had to think so much and study so hard.  After a three-hour lesson in the morning, my brain was fried!  Then, we had another three-hour session in the afternoon!  But, I signed up to be pushed, and pushed I was.

      Let me break down the experience into different categories:

Lodging

            We stayed at a guesthouse in Montrious.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it really wasn’t what we had.  I guess I was thinking it would be bigger.  It wasn’t until later when I learned that one of the instructors had given up his home to turn it into a guesthouse that the size made sense.  And, it worked out.  We had enough space, enough water, enough electricity when we needed it, and pretty much enough of everything.  I just didn’t know what to picture in my head.

We had 10 women in our room, the two families had rooms to themselves, and the lone guy had his own room (right next to the kitchen, so he had to listen to clean up late into the night and the early morning sounds of breakfast preparation).

            Each room had a shower, sink, and toilet.  We had plenty of electrical outlets that worked when the generator was on, so we were able to charge electronics and run fans from about 7:00 p.m. until 3:00 a.m.  There was front sitting area just outside our room which was a great place to hang out, talk, listen to music, etc.  The roof also became a place to go early in the morning and again in the evening.  Those were times without too much sun but a nice breeze.

Food

            Best.  Food.  Ever.  Breakfast was a combination of scrambled eggs, toast, hard-boiled eggs, fruit, pancakes, etc.  Pretty basic.  Lunch was on our own—I often went up to the main street and bought fried plantains, pikliz, and griot.  Supper was some of the best Haitian food I have had!  Of course, rice and bean sauce were often the staples, but the chicken and other meats that went with it were delicious!  One night we had pizza.  I liked it, but then, I love pretty much any pizza.  The sauce and toppings were good.  The crust was thick and dry . . . . kind of what I imagine hardtack to be like.  The soup was good, but I have issues with eating hot soup on a 90 degree night.  Call me silly, but soup should be eaten when it’s about 50 degrees out.  I don’t need my insides warmed up like my outsides were.  But hey, other people were cooking and cleaning up for me, so I won’t really complain.  Oh, a number of nights we would have fresh-squeezed juices.  I loved the cherry juice, but the best was the korosol juice!  I learned how to make it—which is hard to do—so I appreciate even more the fact that the staff made it for us 2-3 times.

Montrious (pronounced like Monwi)

            This city/village is beautiful!  I could live there—mountains on one side and the ocean on the other.  Life doesn’t get much better.  We were between the main road and the ocean, and we were able to walk back into the areas with homes and talk with people.  It was great walking on the trails through some “farms” and taking the same routes that the locals did.  I felt really safe and comfortable doing so.  The air is much cleaner, less garbage around (though there is still a lot of it), and there’s less noise.  Unless you count the roosters crowing.  And the dogs fighting in the middle of the night.  And the occasional unhappy baby wailing in the early hours of the morning.  But, other than those things, the noise level is much less.

            I felt less intimidated in Montrious than I do in Port-au-Prince.  I love the variety and the options of PAP, but I don’t like the constant motion of the big city.  I just have never spent much time outside of PAP, so I didn’t have anything to compare it to.  I don’t know whether the people really are nicer or I just met some amazing folks, but I really enjoyed getting to know everyone: the staff, the director and his family, the folks in the neighborhood. 

Learning the Language

            The Creole instruction by Desmy and Gloria was incredible.  I knew I was going to work, I would work hard, and I would learn a ton.  And that’s exactly what happened!

            Our morning started with devotions at 8:30.  We would read and re-read a Scripture passage in Creole until we knew all the words, could translate it into English, and read it pretty much as a Haitian would.  After that we were broken up into two groups: a beginner’s group and an advanced group.  The next three hours were spent learning language and grammar, often focusing on the words we would need to know for ministry later that day or the next day.  Once we got into it, we would practice with stories used in elementary schools.  Even though we were reading stuff at only the 3^rd or 4^th grade level, it was hard!  But, I loved it!

            My language skills grew by leaps and bounds every day.  I was still shy about speaking to people in the area the first couple of days because I hate to make mistakes, but I forced myself to do it.  Some of the hard part was talking with strangers in general (which I don’t do well in the States in English, much less in a foreign language!).  So, thinking of things to talk about was a challenge.  But, as the days and weeks passed, I got -better.  I even got some compliments on how I spoke . . . woo hoo!  I am certainly not fluent, but I do speak better now than before.  I just have more confidence in my ability to make myself clear and ask questions if I don’t understand the response.

            A huge part of building the confidence comes from having two teachers who know the language, are way encouraging, and who just know how to teach.  I can’t say enough about how good Desmy and Gloria are at what they do.  Desmy is Haitian, and Gloria is Haitian-American, and both are fluent in Creole and English.  They could translate anything for us!

Ministry Opportunities

            We jumped right in the second day by visiting homes in the neighborhood and introducing ourselves and talking about family.  The next days we went back to the same homes and talked about differences between Haiti and the U.S.  We had time on our breaks to walk in the area some more, and we often saw the same people on the trails and could practice our Creole.  I really enjoyed having the freedom to go off without supervision and try to speak on my own.  No one was “babysitting” us in that sense.

            The first Tuesday we went to the market to buy food for that night’s supper, so we had to use all the language we used the day before about names of foods, measurements in Haiti, how to bargain, who to bargain with (you never bargain with the fish sellers!).  The afternoon lessons were then spent in the kitchen or outside the wall learning to prepare the food (the “outside the wall” jobs were slaughtering, skinning, and cutting up the very live goat purchased at the market earlier that day).

            The group did two visits to a prison and a hospital to pray and minister to those people.  I had never been inside a prison before, and a Haitian one was an experience.  I wish I could have done the second visit, but I’m glad I at least experienced it on the one visit I could make.

            We planned one youth group service, a three-hour VBS, and a two-hour children’s church.  They all went well, but, boy, were they exhausting!  But, I can pray in Creole; I can explain arts and crafts in Creole; I can teach a Bible verse in Creole; I can sing VBS songs in Creole; and I can play silly Haitian games.  Life is good.

            Another day we went to a nearby orphanage to talk with director.  We had to ask questions in Creole, and then we each had to translate parts of his story into English for the others.  Translating is hard work!  Not only are you thinking in two languages, you have to try to catch the essence of what is being said so that you can create that same idea in English.  Definitely no time to daydream!

            One of the last things we did was go back to each of the homes we had visited the first couple of days to deliver a Bible, clothes if they had children, and pray with them.  My Creole had greatly improved by then, and the family I had visited noticed and commented on the improvement.  That felt good.

            This was an amazing experience.  I am blown away by so much, but especially by the fact that 20+ strangers could live in such close proximity and get along.  No fighting.  No squabbles.  No cliques.  Nothing like that.  I know that some long-lasting friendships have developed, not only for me, but for many of the folks there.  Pretty cool what God created during those three weeks.

I know this has been a pretty dry blog, but I wanted to catch folks up on the last three weeks without going into tons of detail.

Some Things I Know Nothing About

When I sit far away from Haiti in the comfort of my own home, I find it easy to make great plans about all the things I’m going to do when I get here.  Then I arrive.  Haiti kicks my butt.  Again. 

            I’ve been thinking all weekend about the many things that I know nothing about:

11.  The devastating grief a mother must feel when choosing which child to give up.

22.  The abandonment a child feels as Mom walks away from the orphanage gates.

33.  The mixed emotions when a child sees her birth brother at school every day, knowing that Mom           chose him.

44. The complex emotions a mother deals with when faced with the final decision about whether to sign    the adoption papers.

55.  The excitement of going home to Mom and extended family while leaving the only home and “sibs”   you’ve known in your eight short years.

66.   To be an adoptive parent-to-be and find out that the adoption is off.  Without warning.  After years      of work, love, and energy invested, suddenly it’s just “no.”  To grief the loss of  a child that society    has not yet recognized as “yours.”

I’ve never seen Sophie’s Choice, but I’ve heard a lot about it: the great acting, how hard it is to watch it and imagine going through something like that.  But, that’s fiction.  Real mothers in Haiti have to make those decisions regularly—which child goes to school this year, which child eats today, which child stays, which child gets adopted?  Poverty sucks.

More things I know nothing about:

17.  Having your birth mother working at the orphanage where you live and not know it?

28.  To see your child every day and not acknowledge her. Not hold her.  To know that she will be    adopted.

39.  What does “family reunification” really mean?  Is it always better?  If nothing has changed for the    family, and the child returns, what happens if Mom has to give the child up again?

410.  What is best for the child?  Is it adoption?  Is it going back to the family of origin? 

I would argue here that the answer is “no.”  I’ve heard too many accounts in the U.S. where judges sent children back to birth parents who were clearly unfit because “a child should be with her birth parents.”  The birth home may not always be better simply because it’s the birth home.

I feel profound sadness because there’s not a thing I can do about any of it.  I can’t even begin to understand it, so how I can even begin to become a part of the solution?  What do we—the wealthy (and by “wealthy,” I mean pretty much all of us), the people of the world, Christians, Jews, Muslims, pretty much everyone who knows wrong when we see it—do?