Righty Tighty Lefty Loosey

           Righty Tighty—Lefty Loosey.

            I remember learning that from my parents when I was a child—turn things right to turn them off; turn things left to open them.  The same concept applied to screwing things in or out.  It’s a decent mantra to live by.

            It just doesn’t work in Haiti.  I’ve learned that there’s no guarantee that you need to turn the shower faucet left to get running water.  In fact, quite often you need to turn it right to start the water.  Same goes for sink faucets.  And, you gotta love it when the handle just spins, and it’s a crap shoot as to whether you’ll get water or not!  I had to turn water off today in the showers at the Center.  Two handles, one theoretically for hot water, the other for cold.  One you turned left to turn off, and the other you turned right to turn off.  We have five shower stalls, all with different configurations of turning the water on or off!  Go figure.

            I’ve also noticed that the hot/cold taps are often switched in Haiti.  Not unusual to find the Hot handle on the right and the Cold handle on the left.  Maybe it’s because most Haitians don’t have hot water, so it really doesn’t matter what side it goes on!

            Haitian Driving.  

          This is another topic near and dear to my heart.  I first thought Haitian drivers were just plain bad.  They didn’t know rules of the road; they didn’t know how to shift with ease; they didn’t understand the point of turn signals and/or lights. I learned over time that the turn signals and lights and shifting had nothing to do with drivers’ lack of knowledge. It’s most likely that the vehicle is in such bad condition that lights don’t work, gear shifts are old and temperamental, or the signal is broken.

            I then thought that Haitian drivers were crazy.  They fly all over the road, making up lanes as they go.  They drive down the wrong side of the road.  They turn a four-lane street (two lanes going each direction) into three lanes going one way and the fourth the other.  Then you’ve got folks deciding that the sidewalk or shoulder of the road should become another lane.  Chaos ensues with lots of honking.  If people just followed the rules of the road, 90% of the traffic jams would disappear.

            But, crazy didn’t seem like the right term either.  I mean, it’s not as if Haitian drivers have a death wish or drive the way they do because they like the adrenaline rush.  

            I’ve decided it’s impatience.  Haitian drivers, I think, are simply impatient.  In general, Haitians don’t do lines.  At school, kids don’t wait in line for a drink—they simply crowd around and push to get to the water tank.  They don’t wait in line to go up the slide—they push others aside so that they can climb up.  Adults are like that, too.  They push their way to the front of the bag check at stores.  They line jump in stores.  

            So, if Haitians don’t wait in line in other places, why wait in line while driving?  Why wait your turn at an intersection when the sidewalk is free and you can use it as a driving lane?  Why wait for the big truck to make its turn when you can speed up and sneak through the gap quickly?  Who cares if the sneaking ahead and creating extra lanes causes the very traffic jam that you want to avoid?  

            That’s my conclusion—Haitian drivers aren’t bad or crazy.  They’re just impatient! 

Panties in a Bundle

           I’m back in Haiti with five days under my belt.  I’ve settled in nicely, but the first night was rough.  

            No, not rough.  Horrible.

            I was picked up on time at the airport. My luggage came in just fine. But, Gertrude, for some reason, forgot that I was staying at Notre Maison right away.  Needless to say, my room wasn’t ready.

            Not only was my room not ready, a bed wasn’t even prepared for me.  I stood in the hallway with my bags while they tore dirty sheets off one bed and put clean one on for me.  Whoever had been sleeping in the room had to relocate, and I felt like an unwanted intruder.

            In just a couple of minutes my room was ready, and I had some privacy.

            I started sobbing.  Gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sobs.  I was ready to buy a ticket home for the next morning and just give up.  I went up onto the roof and cried.  I came back to my room and cried.  As I lay in bed, crying myself to sleep, I didn’t even know what to pray.  So, I settled on the prayer that my parents would say with me every night when they tucked me in:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Guide me safely through the night,

And wake me with the morning light.”

            

            I felt better.  I felt a little connection to home.  I fell asleep.

            When I woke in the morning, life was better.  It always is!  

            On Tuesday morning I was able to meet some friends with truck at Morning Star, and they helped me bring the first load of my stuff back to Notre Maison. I had to put it all in the therapy room, which I wasn’t thrilled about because I really wanted to get settled in my room, but it was better than nothing.  And, at Morning Star I said "Hello" to friends and former colleagues.  They made me feel wanted and missed.  I almost started crying again, but I didn't!

            I did work on Center stuff that afternoon hat needed to get done, and that made me feel good.  Gave me focus and purpose so that I didn’t sit and feel sorry for myself!

            The 15^th is a holiday in Haiti—the Assumption of Mary—so I went to the Center for a bit and dropped of some supplies and looked around.  We have a TON of stuff to do to be ready for school on the 3^rd, but somehow it will get done.  I hope.

            I miss the “easy” life at Morning Star—the electricity 24/7, AC most of the time, strong WiFi so that I can stream Netflix.  But, I don’t miss sitting in my room all the time.  I may not have as many creature comforts at Notre Maison, but I love sitting up on the roof to do my work.  I’m pretty much up there all the time.  I get lots of fresh air, and I don’t feel cooped up like I did at MSCA.

            Thursday I felt very accomplished.  I went to a place called Maxima to order really nice bench/desks for the Center. I then had to go from there to the airport to meet someone who was donating orthotic-type things.  I took them to the Center where I met Debbie and George who were there to introduce me to a young lady they know who is looking for a job.  I always love seeing friends in Haiti, but this time was especially important because they brought me a Diet Coke!  Yes!

            At that point of the week, I was feeling pretty good about being back.  I had my motorcycle, and that was working pretty well.  I was slowly getting all my stuff to Notre Maison (Morning Star had stored some shipped items for me as well).  I discovered that I can still understand/speak 

Creole . . . okay. Thankfully, the despair I felt that first night has not returned.

            At this point, you’re probably wondering about the title of this blog. You know--the whole "panty" thing.  I’m getting to that.

            I wake up Friday morning and get ready to head to Université Quisqueya for the workshop that I signed up for.

            Only, I discover that I have no clean underwear (you discover these things too late when the bulk of your stuff is still packed in boxes in the therapy room). No time to wash a pair and have it dry.

            So, I head out commando!  

            Don’t think anyone at the workshops noticed, but I certainly was aware of the fact.

Medium-sized shirt?

            In spite of the lack of underwear, the seminar went well.  I understand 90% of it (the whole thing was in Haitian Creole), and I could participate and share my ideas.  The seminar was on how to help struggling readers, which helped because I already know a lot about the topic in English, so it was fairly easy to figure stuff out in Creole.  

            I am now in possession of my first seminar certificate, which are highly valued in Haiti as signs of professional development.  I also received a T-shirt as part of my participation practice.  They gave me a medium.  I asked for an XL.  They didn't have that size.  Never did.  They assured  me that a medium would fit.  I walked away thinking there is no way my upper body is fitting into a medium shirt!

            Back to the panties.  

           Now, back in June when I first got home for summer vacation, I purchased 21 pair of new underwear for reasons that make perfect sense when someone else is handwashing your underwear for you.  They weren’t in the suitcases that I brought.  Went to the therapy room.  They weren’t in the packages I had shipped through Morning Star.  I looked through the bins I had packed and left in Haiti—maybe I didn’t take all the underwear home in June.  No luck.

            My only hope was that they had been packed and shipped with the stuff sent to Agape.  Otherwise, the four pair I had were going to get worn out.  Quickly.

            I did hand wash a pair in the sink so that today I was able to wear clean underwear.

            Fortunately, I worked at Agape this morning, so I had the perfect chance to check for underwear.  The boxes were there, but I had no way of getting them home because I was on my motorcycle.  What to do. What to do.

Happy Camper!

            I finally thought “Screw it.”  I took my Swiss army knife and cut open my two boxes.  Found some of the new underwear!  Took a package out and casually walked over to my backpack and slipped it in.  Don’t know whether anyone noticed.  Don’t really care! 

            I have clean underwear!

A New Beginning

            

          Summer vacation is over.  I’m sitting at O’Hare airport waiting for my flight, reflecting on the summer I had.

            I front loaded my first weeks home by running around shopping for Center 

supplies, buying personal items I would need in Haiti, and then shipping it all in time to get on the cargo container being sent by Morning Star Christian Academy. I can’t thank Pastor Jay, Mrs. Linda, and Morning Star in general, enough for their support in my ministry in Haiti. Even though I no longer work at MSCA, they allow me to take advantage of its resources, which allows me to do so much more than I could do on my own. Friendships developed there that will stay with me for a lifetime. 

          A part of that unpacking will also include putting together the Ikea items I bought for my room at the orphanage—love Ikea!  I will have drawers to put together and a clothes hanging rack to assemble.  I also have new sheets and towels—I think both are green with polka dots.  I think I also packed some new clothes for myself. Maybe.  Can’t really remember!

I had a ball shopping for the school supplies that the teachers wanted, and I’m excited to pick up the boxes and see what I sent!  I have always loved (and still do love) office supplies, so going to Office Max and The Scholarship, a teacher store, was no chore!  Seeing all the fun arts and crafts supplies for elementary school teachers almost made me want to be an elementary school teacher.  Almost.

            Once that initial flurry of activity ended, I was able to relax and really enjoy myself.  I spent some time up in Whitewater with family and friends.  I had the privilege of speaking at First English Lutheran Church again and sharing with the congregation about the work being done at the Center.  They continue to walk with me on this journey, and without their support (of all types), so much of what is being done at the Center just wouldn’t happen. I also spent TONS of time with friends in the Geneva area and hung out with my dog Boo as much as I could.  I love that dog to pieces and miss him terribly while I’m gone, but he’s in good hands with Susan.  And, Boo gets to live with his girlfriend Nelle, the cutest little Rat Terrier you will ever see.

          I love going to Whitewater and worshiping at First English Lutheran Church, the church I grew up in and in which I first learned to love the Lord.  I love just as much worshiping at New Hope Lutheran Church in Aurora, IL.  This church is my church home now, and they have walked with me since I first visited Haiti in 2009.  Without their continued love, support, and prayers, I would not be where I am in Haiti.  They, too, deserve a shout out for the work they are doing in Haiti at the Haiti Center for Inclusive Education!

            The best part about being in Whitewater, though, was spending time with family and friends.  At the end of July, I attended my 30^thclass reunion and caught up with some life-long friends.  I didn’t know it was possible to laugh that much!  Seriously, my face hurt from smiling so much, and my stomach ached from all the laughter.  Teachers often told me that they thought the class of ’88 was a special group of people, and being with those friends again reminded me that those teachers were right—the class of ’88 was, and is, a special group of people.

Rafting the Powder River

Look out on the one-lane road
through Rocky Mountain National Park

            One disappointment of the summer occurred early in July.  My four nieces and I planned to fly to Haiti on August 1 so that they could spend time with me there as they did last summer.  Unfortunately, pretty bad civil unrest broke out the weekend of July 6-8, and we decided that it would be best for the girls to forego the trip.  On the upside, however, Grandma and Grandpa stepped in and changed the trip to Colorado!  Thanks to the generosity of my parents, my mom, my four nieces, and I spent an amazing week in the Loveland area of CO.  Oh my gosh, we had fun!  Hiking. Four wheeling. Laughing.  Mountain biking.  Swimming in 59-degree mountain lake water (Okay, that was just Michaela, RebA, and Alyssa.  Sarah and I had the good sense to stay dry).  Whitewater rafting.  Eating great food--steak anyone? I couldn’t have asked for a better time with family.

Go Cubbies!

  It's hard to beat the beauty of Colorado, but it does get better! An amazing friend gave me tickets to see the Cubs play at Wrigley Field!  The seats were awesome—I could’ve talked to Jason Hayward if I had wanted to! The Cubs lost, but Wrigley always delivers.  The Cubs didn’t let me down, though.  They came back Sunday night (7/12/18) to beat the Nationals 4-3.  The ending was every ball player’s dream: bases loaded, two out, bottom of the ninth, down 3-0.  Bote is at the plate and hits a Grand Slam Homerun!  Go Cubs Go!

            And now I’m heading back to Haiti.  To work full time at the Haiti Center for Inclusive Education.  To work at the school that I have dreamed about opening for the past seven years.  When I moved to Haiti two years ago, I wasn’t sure how long I would be in the country or whether the school would ever become a reality.  I still don’t know how long I will be there or how the school will develop. But, I know that God had blessed me by allowing me to follow what I believe is His call for life at this point in time.  I know that He has brought many people together to support me in this work.  And for now, knowing that God’s hand is in all of this is enough.