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?