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 15th 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 3rd, 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.
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| 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.
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| 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!
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