Babbling Brooke

2012-03-09T10:08:00.001-08:00

Right now I'm spending a lovely couple of weeks with my friends and family in Washington and getting to play auntie to my gorgeous niece and nephew, as well as one of my best friends' kids. She had her second baby, Juliet, just a few weeks ago.

Before coming back here I moved in with our church's new pastor, John, and his wife, Jocie. They are from Australia, hilarious, kind, wise, and also my friend Brittany's parents-in-law. A great perk to living here: Brittany and her family, as well as my nurse friend, Ashley, all live next door to us. John and Jocie have begun ministering to a couple of boys from a tent city in a really beautiful way. A couple of days a week the boys come over to their house and they work a bit around the house (teaching them a skill that they can use in future years and giving them dignity, as well), then John and Jocie provide a meal for them while they all talk. Then, they play soccer, basketball, or other games with the boys. The love, guidance, prayers, and wisdom they are giving these boys is very beautiful to watch.

A few Sundays ago, after church, we found that one of the boys, Dupren, was throwing up in the bathroom. We were also told by another boy, Edly, that Dupren's bike had been stolen at church. Jocie and I talked to Edly and a third boy (I don't recall his name) who had witnessed the bike-steaing incident. This third boy knew where to find the kid who stole the bike. Jocie fetched a nice English and Creole-speaking man from church who could help us and we loaded up the kids in her car. Pastor John had a church meeting to attend to, so he wasn't able to assist. I looked at Jocie and asked, "Is it wrong that I am excited about going to find this bike?" "Oh no, I am just as excited as you!" This was our first adventure as Nancy Drew wanna-be's.

The third kid took us to the thief's neighborhood, then some of us walked the rest of the way in. Jocie stayed behind with her car and a few of her friends who were passengers in the car, but I was instructed to remember every detail of the encounter. When we approached the suspect's house, we all saw the bike "hidden" behind some cardboard. Our Haitian translator/muscle spoke with the kid's father, who said he had suspected something amiss when the kid brought it home, saying he found it in the trash. I chewed out the kid a bit when he told me that he just found it at church, thinking no one wanted it (Dupren didn't have a way to lock it up). "Do you take everything you just see you want?" We left, with the bike, with no struggle or arguments. When we returned to the Meadth's house, Jocie and I told John we will be opening our own detective agency. Apparently I need to watch the show or read the books The Number One Ladies' Detective Agency. Let me know if you live in Haiti, preferably the Delmas area of Port au Prince, and need some crafty, smart detectives to solve your crimes. All this adventure and more, you'll find in Haiti, people.

A Scandalous God

2012-02-03T07:35:00.000-08:00

To be honest, I've never spent much time thinking about war. I've never had an opinion one way or the other. My brain has never engaged in much thought about how it affects those living daily amongst bombings, battles, and death. Until now. I'm still devouring Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution. See my last post. I'm not going to comment on what he wrote. Read it for yourself. I pray you are as affected by these words as I was.

"....and I headed to Iraq, where I ended up living through the most beautiful and horrible month of my life. I was there during the bombing of Baghdad, visiting homes, hospitals, and families- and going to worship services with the hunders of Iraqi Christians there. Essentially, I went to Iraq because I believe in a God of scandalous grace. I have pledged allegiance to a King who loved evildoers so much he died for them, teaching us that there is something worth dying for but nothing worth killing for. I went to Iraq in the footsteps of an executed and risen God. The Jesus of the margins suffered an imperial execution by an oppressive regime of wealthy and pious elites. And now he dares me and woos me to come and follow, to take up my cross, to lose my life to find it, with the promises that life is more powerful than death and that it is more courageous to love our enemies than to kill them. May we stand by those who face the impending wrath of the empire and whisper, "God loves you, I love you, and if my country bombs your country, I will be right here with you.

One of the things that became painfully clear to me in Iraq is that what's at stake today is the reputation not just of America but of Christianity, and that's what keeps me up at night. I heard people in Iraq call leaders in the US "Christian extremists," just as leaders here speak of "Muslim extremists." Everyone is declaring war in the name of God and asking for God's blessing. One beautiful Iraqi mother threw her hands in the air and said, "Your country is declaring war in the name of God and asking God's blessing, and that is the same thing my country is doing. What kind of God is this? What has happened to the God of love, to the Prince of Peace?

Revolutionary subordination exposes the evils of power and violence without mirroring them, by gently allowing them to destroy themselves and then rising above the ruins. This approach, of course, is exemplified by Jesus, who was led like "a lamb to slaughter"; it was with revolutionary subordination that Jesus "disarmed the powers and authorities" and made a "public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross" (Col 2:15). His was a humble redemptive suffering that flew in the face of the arrogant myth of redemptive violence.

We know all too well that we have a God who shows mercy on evildoers, for if he didn't, we'd all be in big trouble, and for that, this evildoer is very glad.

As we drove into the town, were were deeply disturbed to see that it was devastated by bombing. Before we could get out of the car, doctors greeted us, and the town began to gather. When they learned that several of us were from the US, the head doctor asked loudly, "Why this? Why? Why is your government doing this?" With tears in his eyes, he explained that only a couple of days earlier, one of the bombs had hit the hospital, the children's ward. So they could not take us to the hospital. He added with a dignified smile, "But you are our brothers, and we will take care of you. We take care of everyone- Christian, Muslim, Iraqi, American...it doesn't matter. We are all human beings. We are all sisters and brothers." And they set up a little clinic with four beds and saved my friend's life, apologizing for the scarcity of supplies due to the sanctions. The townspeople began to bring blankets and water...they smiled and invited us to live in Rutba. We offered the doctors money, but they insisted that they were caring for us as family. They did have one request: "Tell the world about Rutba." And we have."

Rather than separating ourselves from everyone we consider impure, maybe we are better off just beating our chests and praying that God would be merciful enough to save us from this present ugliness and to make our lives so beautiful that people cannot resist that mercy.

Convicted

2012-01-25T14:22:00.000-08:00

From Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution:

"When we get to heaven, we will be separated into those sheep and goats Jesus talks about in Matthew 25 based on how we cared for the least among us. I'm just not convinced that Jesus is going to say 'When I was hungry, you gave a check to the United Way and they fed me', or, 'When I was naked, you donated clothes to the Salvation Army and they clothed me.' Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love: "you fed me...you visited me in prison...you welcomed me into your home...you clothed me."

"It is much more comfortable to depersonalize the poor so we don't feel responsible for the catastrophic human failure that results in someone sleeping on the street while people have spare bedrooms in their homes."

"And Jesus did not set up a program but modeled a way of living that incarnated the reign of God, a community in which people are reconciled and our debts are forgiven just as we forgive our debtors (all economic words). That reign did not spread through organizational establishments or structural systems. It spread like disease- through touch, through breath, through life. It spread through people infected by love."

2011-12-31T11:02:00.000-08:00

Merry belated Christmas and Happy early New Year, friends, family, and readers!

Many of you may be looking for ways to help others in a tangible way in the New Year. Let me present a way for you to do so. I have a wonderful friend here in Haiti named Fritz who is the manager of our ministry. I have known him since I started coming to visit and work with Maison de Lumiere. In 2004, right when our boys' home started, Fritz moved in and began overseeing the care of the first twelve boys. Fritz's parents died when he was young. He was raised in one of the roughest, most violent areas in Port au Prince, called Cite Soleil. Fritz worked hard doing many different jobs to put himself through school. He now has a lovely wife, Magolie, and two beautiful daughters, Sienna and Tassia. Magolie is also pregnant right now. Fritz is the oldest of eight siblings.Right after the earthquake Fritz took in all of his extended family members who had lost their homes. At least, if not more than, twenty people moved into his home and into his yard in tents. For months they remained there while they searched for new places to live. A few months after the earthquake one of Fritz's sisters who still lived in Cite Soleil suffered what appeared to be a stroke. She was hospitalized for a time then Fritz began to pay for her housing and care when she moved in with another of their sisters. She continues to require full care and cannot speak. Over a year ago two visiting nurses and I paid a visit to her home. You can read about that visit here. Fritz took in this sister's two daughters, Jennifer and Ruby. This last spring other family members decided to move Jennifer and Ruby and their mom into another relative's home further away from our neighborhood. Fritz was heartbroken and worried for their health and safety. Eventually he learned that whoever they were staying with was abusing the girls, as well as their mother when she attempted to cry out against them. In order for Jennifer and Ruby to move back in with his family, Fritz needs extra financial support for them. As the oldest child in his family, he financially and emotionally supports each of his younger siblings and their families. In addition to working for our ministry, he has a business out of his home where he sells water, food, and dry goods. Yet taking in these two girls again is an extra expense he cannot afford at this time. If you would like more information about Fritz and these girls and/or would like to sponsor the girls, please leave me a comment on the blog sharing your interest and a way for me to contact you. Mesi Anpil (Thank you very much!) for all the ways you have supported those I care about here in Haiti!

Driving....can make you insane

2011-12-08T19:34:00.001-08:00

Last week I drove Ensa and her mother to a clinic in Petionville, which is only a few miles up a hill from my house, but it can take an hour or longer to get there with traffic. I took Anderson, one of our boy graduates, along with me to help me navigate and make me feel safe. I knew already that he's not the best at navigating...but he's better than nothing and always provides entertaining conversation. He is willing to ask for directions. We started out the morning with him calling the doctor to ask for directions. She told him a landmark then said for him to call back when we arrived there. Thankfully he knew how to get to this location, a church. After that we pulled over so I could call the doctor. Two attempts and she didn't answer. I pulled over to the edge of the street, but cars honked furiously at us nonetheless. We had not been given the address or the name of the clinic when we'd called her earlier in the morning. She had given Anderson a general area. We could no longer stay in the intersection so I picked a direction and drove off. Finally, the doctor's assistant called back and Anderson spoke to her. With confidence he told me where to go. Then, silence. "Where do I turn?" "I don't know," he responded. I called the doctor's office again and Ensa's mother spoke with her. Same result as with Anderson: we turned a bunch of times and then were lost again, as we looked for "Thyle Market," which the office claimed was nearby. And she was told the office was named "Citi Med." I pulled over again and a female street vendor offered to get in the car to show us where to go. Upon arriving at "Citi Med" we were told they did not know the doctor we were looking for. Another phone call. NO, its not Citi Med, its called "Omni Med." Are you kidding me? Again, we drove in circles looking for a market supposedly close to the office, but this time we were told it was called "Star Market." Ensa's mother gave directions to me from the back seat using hand signals. That doesn't really help when you're trying to avoid hitting other cars and people. You can't look behind you. I frequently told her to say "Right, Left, and Straight" in Creole and she agreed to, but then I began to wonder if she knows her right from her left. Anderson would tell me where to go two seconds AFTER I had passed the intersection. A few more phone calls, being told to look for "Big Market", and praise God we found it! When we pulled up the lady who had been giving us directions shook her head in wonder and laughed at us. Thanks so much.

The doctor, a rheumatologist, was very kind and thorough in her examination of Ensa. Hospital Espoir had been unable to figure out why she continued to have fevers and pain even though she received treatment for her diagnosis of typhoid. All of Ensa's symptoms and clinic picture led the doctor to believe she has Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. She started Ensa on three times per day Aspirin which Ensa seems to be responding to. She had labs drawn last week and the results should be in in the next few days. We are very thankful that it seems some answers are being found for her.

Thank you very much to those who donated to Ensa and Mikerlange's medical fund! Mikerlange seems to be gaining strength and her skin is completely cleared. She has a follow-up appointment with her HIV doctor next week. Both she and Ensa and family attended our annual Christmas program on Saturday.

Ensa all dressed-up for our Christmas Program

Thank you and blessings to all of you, for reading and for supporting these girls!

P.S. My friends and coworkers moved into the apartment below me. Last week, in preparation of them moving in, a couple of painters came by to paint. When my friends saw the apartment the day before it had white walls...dirty white walls, but white walls, nonetheless. They assumed that when the owner said she would have the walls re-painted they would be re-painted white...right? No. Wrong. Pink. Pepto-bismol pink. I shouldn't be surprised, because this is actually a popular color here. At least my dining room is a muted shade of pink. I am so blessed.

P.P.S Yesterday I was talking with two ladies who were staying for a few nights at our guesthouse. They spent most of last week at a hotel downtown. A fancy-schmancy nice one. So nice that it had mice running in and out of holes that the managers or maids stuffed with newspaper. So nice that someone working there provided them with a billy club as a weapon to kill the mice. How would you like that for your first trip to Haiti? Here's some mice to entertain you while you sleep and here's your weapon to kill them. Wow. So thoughtful of you.

Friends

2011-12-01T10:19:00.001-08:00

I have two lovely friends visiting since last week: Lexie and Paula. We used to work together in Seattle and they have been to Haiti numerous times to help with my organization and a couple of others. Thankful for you both! Both ladies blogged about meeting Ensa. I will use their links to update you:

http://lexiemarie.tumblr.com/post/13498439854/haiti-nov-dec

and: http://growingwithpurposepaula.blogspot.com/2011/11/ensa.html

*Since these were written, I heard that Ensa had bone X-rays performed (most likely of her arms and legs) that showed no abnormalities. She is continuing to have fevers despite being on antibiotics. When I go see her today (hopefully) I will be given the phone number of a specialist to call. Hospital Espoir wants to discharge her today- despite her continued fevers- because they don't know how to help her any further. Please pray for answers! For her healing! Also, thank you thank you thank you to the generous people who have contributed to paying for her care and to those who have contributed to our general medical fund. You Are Awesome!

Off topic: I have been so pampered lately. A few weeks ago my favorite chiropractor, a friend I met here three years ago (the guesthouse flooded when we first met. A few of us were electrocuted. It has bonded us for life), came to visit with her church and adjusted my back. One of her teammates gave me a haircut and to-die-for head massage. Is this what heaven will be like? Today I got my bangs trimmed by another visitor and my hair dried (oh, glorious heaven!) Jesus, you are so nice to me. Thank you for providing amazing people to love us!

Ensa and Mikerlange

2011-11-20T13:06:00.001-08:00

Last week Ensa, her mother, and I spent an exhausting morning at Medishare Hospital. A new doctor we saw tried to get her admitted, but again there was no available bed. She suggested a few hospitals to try, with only one being one I semi-trust (the nurses know me there because I took all of our kids there last year to get medical testing done. We probably made at least 15 trips there. Every time they'd jokingly ask if they could move into the orphanage or if they could get jobs there). So we drove to this hospital, Hospital Espoir, and they quickly agreed to take her. We walked in, asked, and it was almost like they had been waiting all day for someone to show up. She had an IV placed, has been receiving IV fluids, food, and various blood tests. Her HIV test was negative (thank you Jesus!) but her typhoid test was positive. Finally, we have an answer for the pain and the fevers! Since Monday she has been on IV antibiotics and quickly been improving. Hopefully on Tuesday I can bring her back to her family's home.

Mikerlange continues to receive care at Medishare. It has been difficult to receive information on what is being done for her (neither she nor her mother have a phone and the doctor was unavailable to speak to on Monday) but she seemed to be feeling better last I saw her.

In other news, last week a creative visitor set up bowling at our boys home, using empty plastic soda bottles with a light stick in them. Bowling balls? What are those? No, the kids, lying on their stomachs on skateboards, were the human bowling balls, flying through the dark into the soda bottles. Fantastic! If you creative types out there have other ideas for games, pass them my way. We need some more out-of-the-box entertainment around here. A few weeks ago we played whiffle ball with the kids at a park. At least we can laugh at ourselves. Maybe they should stick to soccer? And I'll stick to... tripping and falling as I run here.

And, today as we walked home from lunch on a busy street, we saw a naked man. Apparently he's around a lot (friends said they've seen him as well). He was strutting down the street, looking like he had places to go and people to see, carrying his clothes in his right hand. No one seemed to give him a moments notice or batt an eyelash. Alright. We'll try not to either.

Praise Reports

2011-11-13T18:31:00.001-08:00

Mikerlange, the young lady with HIV, was able to be admitted last Wednesday to receive IV hydration and food at the hospital. Ensa, the four-year-old beauty, continues to have fevers, but is able to eat daily at our girls' orphanage. She has also been accepted into a malnourishment program for children not too far from our homes. I'm not sure what that will look like for her, other than that she will receive Plumpy'nut, a ready-to-use therapeutic food. Tomorrow we will be returning to the hospital together where she will receive more test results. Her test results from last week showed that she is severely anemic and has an elevated white blood cell count, indicating an infection of some sort (but still unknown what kind). The X-rays of her arms, chest, and hands showed no abnormalities. THANK YOU for continuing to pray for these girls and for your financial donations to our medical fund. If you still would like to donate to the medical fund, you may do so here.

Ensa

Updating from Haiti

2011-11-04T19:48:00.000-07:00

I like surprises. So, here I am surprising some of you that I am back in Haiti! I am here long-term again (however long the Lord sees fit, pretty much). I'm living with a friend in an apartment near our ministry, which thrills me to no end. I have a serious crush on this place- cool breezes at night, a hammock on the porch, a home to share with others who need a place to rest, and a home to invite friends and the kids from our ministry to for dinners and fellowship.

Last week my friend and fellow nurse with our ministry, Ashley, heard about a sick little girl near a tent city in our neighborhood. She walked to visit her home and found a 4 year-old with swollen and hot-to-the-touch hands, feet, and elbows, a fever lasting for 29 days, and the inability to walk. She'd been seen by multiple doctors at multiple hospitals, as well as two visiting doctors to our ministry. As things go here, we can't get a handle on what tests were done or their results or what diagnoses were made or ruled out. Last Sunday Ashley and our visiting doctor, Dr. Eddie, and I made a house call to her home. Thankfully they have a home made out of tin and cement, rather than a tent or tarp. We found her in the same condition as during Ashley's previous visit, sitting stiffly in a chair. We prayed for her and discussed possible diagnoses. Dr. Eddie pulled out a chocolate-flavored Promax (protein bar) and handed it to her. She looked like she had just been handed the whole world or tickets to Disneyland. She proudly displayed her gift to her mother and other relatives. Ashley gave her ibuprofen and she seemed to improve (less frequently feverish and the swelling in her hands and feet had diminished) in the last few days. However, last night her mother called Ashley saying that the ibuprofen bottle was finished and that she had spiked another high fever. We visited her today and she was indeed running another fever and the swelling in all extremities except one hand has returned. She did give us some smiles when offered a piece of gum. She beamed. I'll try to post pictures soon. Ashley and I are considering taking her to Medishare, a hospital started by the University of Miami, next week. Please pray that they have a bed available to admit this precious beauty (Ensa), that the finances will be provided in order for necessary tests to be run, and that the doctors who treat her will be kind, compassionate, and interested enough in her case to pursue all ways to diagnose and treat her.

During Ashley's first visit to this area, she found another person extremely sick. A 21-year-old young lady, named Mikerlange, was stooped over, only able to walk with a walker, extremely emaciated, with a severe skin infection. Immediately Ashley suspected she has AIDS. Another mission took her to a hospital earlier in the week but found that that hospital was unable to treat her. On Wednesday Ashley took her to Medishare, where she tested positive for HIV. The nurse told Ashley the test was positive, but the person who does counseling for such patients was unavailable to meet with her and asked them to return the next day. Ashley was already working at another clinic the next day, so I took her.

We now have a car just for medical purposes. And I can drive it. I'd only driven in Haiti to one close-by hospital and a close-by market before. I asked my Haitian friend, Marlval, to go with me to help me navigate the roads and actually make it to the hospital (I admit I am horrible with directions. Haiti makes this problem much worse). A visiting paramedic, Phil, accompanied us as well. Phil was here in Haiti around the same time last year and was super helpful when one of our staff members was extremely sick and other crazy medical emergencies popped up the same week. We arrived safely, with my passengers being very gracious and encouraging of my driving. Nearer to our destination though, Marlval said something along the lines of "You're being too cautious. Just go." Phil made fun of me for using my turn single because people don't do that here. They honk. Or they "just go." I had fun though and it was very freeing.

Upon arriving at the hospital we waited for about two hours then a nurse called us into a room. Very quickly she blurted out that Mikerlange is HIV positive. I almost didn't catch her saying it. I looked quickly at Mikerlange and her mom and saw no reaction on their faces or in their bodies. I inquired of her multiple times whether she understood this diagnosis. There was no interpreter and with my amount of Creole I could not explain to her in-depth what this diagnosis means. I still wonder whether both mom and daughter already suspected she has HIV or felt so hopeless or resigned to it by then. As I was questioning her, I noticed that the nurse, as she was charting, was almost to the point of laughter. WHAT? Was my persistence striking her as funny? Did she remember a funny moment from earlier in her day? Is she so hardened, so callus, that she could laugh in the midst of this woman's pain and most life-defining moment? I wanted to reach across that desk and slap her.

We moved back out to the waiting room and waited another few hours. Eventually the doctor showed up and seemed ready to start discussing Mikerlange's condition right there. I asked for us to move somewhere private, but then he ran off to get an interpreter. He eventually returned with the interpreter and the discussion began. Privacy, what? The doctor was receptive to my endless questions- "Can we admit her to the hospital today? What will they do for her if she is admitted?" It took some major rephrasing of questions over and over again, but eventually was told that they would feed her, possibly administer IV antibiotics, provide counseling, and start her on anti-retroviral drugs (standard treatment for HIV). The problem? No bed available in the hospital. Another hospital was offered but I haven't had a good experience with them and I was starting to trust this doctor- and we've had other, good experiences with them. The doctor and I exchanged phone numbers so I can find out when a bed becomes available. He prescribed the anti-retrovirals, as well as medications for her skin, which were filled at their pharmacy for no charge. Some other medications I will need to buy and find next week at a different pharmacy. As the doctor explained these medications and their administration to Mikerlange and her mother, "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" blasted from the other side of the wall. The contrast between the music and this girl receiving the worst news of her life caused Phil and I to chuckle in bewilderment.

Today Ashley and I checked on Mikerlange. She indicated that she understands how to take her medications. However, she vomited her mid-day doses because she did not eat when she took them. She must take 6 pills morning, noon and night. With food. I returned later with some food for her to eat this weekend. I am overwhelmed with thinking about how we can truly help her. Taking her to the hospital is not enough. To start that, I must follow through with the rest. Why give her meds if she cannot take them or keep them down? How long can we continue to provide her with food? How do the other thousands or millions of people with HIV in this country take their medications when they don't eat every day? I have no answers.

Please pray with us as we think through these heavy decisions. Pray that Ensa and Mikerlange will know the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Pray that we can get Ensa and Mikerlange beds at Medishare. Pray that their doctors will understand quickly how to help them. Pray that the Lord will grant them peace and healing. Pray that He will provide jobs for their families. Pray that the funds for treating them (and possibly feeding them) will be provided. Please prayerfully consider if God is calling YOU to participate in meeting their needs. Click here to donate to our medical fund and fill out the form, which will allow us to pay for their medical expenses.

Thank you for continuing to read this blog and for thinking through these tough issues with me.

The Giving of Thanks Continues

2011-10-04T22:28:00.000-07:00

22. Kisses from children.

23. Warm babies against skin and nestled under a chin

24. Being able to sell my laptop. It was in rough shape. I pulled it out of my bag and the buyer began to laugh. Ouch. It did have some stains/dirt on the cover. The guy asked, "Where did you take this? Iraq?" "Um...No...Haiti." He chuckled then proceeded to laugh some more as it booted up- he wanted to make sure the internet worked on it. It booted up veerrry slowly then a webpage took about 5 minutes to load. Then froze. He apologized then said he couldn't give me as much as I was asking for it. He gave me a price and I took it. At least I got something for it and I wanted it gone. If only he knew that the top used to lie completely flat after I dropped the laptop years ago. For months, before being able to get it fixed as I was living in Haiti, I used a large can of tomatoes behind it to keep it up.

25. Cars. Mine is having some problems but it brought me safely home from California.

26. A good friend of mine has been working on her adoption and foster license for years. Last week two children were placed with them for foster care. I am excited to meet them tomorrow. Praising God He picked these wonderful people to love these kids!

27. Soup

28. Books

29. Hoodie sweatshirts

30. Cameras and pictures

31. Sleep

32. Chocolate

33. Music

34. Rockband and a friend to rock out with.

Giving Thanks

2011-10-03T17:57:00.000-07:00

Have you read Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts? I read it last winter during a time when I was very discouraged, ungrateful, and well, frankly, I had a yucky attitude. The ladies at my church are reading it and will be meeting together monthly to discuss it. God used this book, and multiple wise people, to put me in my place. And I think He's doing it again. Go get the book. Don't tarry!

How can I be ungrateful when I have so much? How do I not give thanks every minute? The secret to being content is giving thanks.

Not in order of importance. Today, I am thankful for:

1. Jesus, the lover of my soul.

2. Mom and Dad. I can pick up the phone or walk into their house and know that they are always there for comfort, advice, and a place to go home to.

3. Sister and her husband. Again, a place to go home to. My sister is always honest with me. She gives me coffee, she taught me how to dress, let's me borrow her purses and heels, let's me get away with nothing.

4. Niece and nephew. Niece was born on Thursday. I was privileged enough to be present at the birth. She is healthy and our family is rejoicing. My nephew, who I am enamored with.

5. Friends in Washington who feel like family

6. Friends in Haiti who feel like family

7. Friends in California and Florida who feel like family

8. Wise women who give loving, challenging, and truth-filled council.

9. The Word- The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only.

10. Haiti. Haitians. I have been shaped and refined into who I am today due to this country and its courageous, hilarious, and gorgeous people.

11. The patients and families I have been blessed to know and take care of. I could write a whole blog post and more on what I have learned from them.

12. Late-night talks with moms from the hospital. Conversations where we struggle with sickness, death, our faith. Prayers offered up together, beseeching for healing, comfort, strength, trust, belief. Laughter together where you almost, but thankfully, not quite, pee your pants. Is that appropriate while hanging chemotherapy?

13. Working at night creates giddiness and silliness that you may not encounter during the daytime.

14. Couches. Being snuggled up with coffee, a book, and a blanket

15. Coffee

16. Chai Tea

17. Rain that pounds the house, windows, and roof so hard that you don't want to go out in it, but you can't help feeling so cozy and basking in its sound.

18. Friends around a table, sharing food, laughter, and fellowship. Laughing because you know each other and your quirks so well. You may have even argued about those quirks, but now there is a sweetness to knowing that your friendship survived it.

19. A friend I can always call and a laugh is guaranteed. Honesty is always given and received between us.

20. I've loved every job I've had as a nurse.

21. Being allowed to enter into someone's emotional, physical, and spiritual pain, when they are at their rawest. It is humbling, beautiful, and a gift.

Let each day, each moment, be offered back to Him in thanks.

Haiti 2004

2011-09-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

Picking up where I left off on my post The Beginning...

I started my job at a children's hospital as an RN. I loved it, even though those first few months were extremely challenging and every day I walked into work feeling like I knew nothing. Meanwhile, Haiti and its people, especially its children, continued to rest on my heart.

In October of that fall I received an email from my trip leader to Haiti saying that she'd been extremely burdened for the boys we'd visited and she'd been visiting them frequently when she visited the Haitian girl she and her husband were adopting. During one of these trips she learned that these boys were being abused and neglected by the man who had supposedly been caring for them. She, along with another couple, named the Manasseros (who'd met the boys on their own mission trip right after ours), flew down to Haiti to help the boys. When they arrived at their "home" they found all the boys walking down the street with what little they owned, starving and exhausted. The man abusing them had been thrown in jail, but that left the boys on the streets because the rent for their home had been left unpaid. They put all the boys in a truck, fed them, and drove around all night looking for a place that would take them. Eventually they found an abandoned church where they moved the boys and over the next few months found a couple of godly Haitian men to care for them. Meanwhile, these two couples were back in the states, raising support to move their families to Haiti to oversee the care of the boys and start a ministry called Child Hope International (with Maison de Lumiere being the home for the boys). My trip leader, Summer, wanted to know if I'd like to travel back to Haiti with her and her sister during the upcoming summer. I was thrilled and quickly agreed to go.

So, it was with much joy that I met up with Summer and her sister Kyle in Miami, along with Rhonda, a hilarious woman from my first trip (Rhonda and I continue to meet up in Haiti almost every year, usually unplanned), and a group from Rhonda's church. We dropped our luggage at the same hotel from the year before and drove over to the new boys' home. We were welcomed by a group of excited boys, twelve in number. The remainder of the boys who'd been living with the American man were older and had moved out, returning to the streets or to programs for older kids. That week we played board games, introduced the boys to play-doh, learned to dance (Haitian-style), peeked in on them as they attended school for the first time, worshipped together, and played a very confusing game of Sardines (most of the boys didn't understand the rules). Summer, Kyle, a new friend named Meleesa, and I decided to spend one night at the boys' home. One of us tried to enter the bathroom but was stopped short by an enormous cockroach blocking our way to it. This was before cockroaches became my roommates, bathroom-mates, and kitchen-mates years later and I learned to be-gudgringly co-exist with them. No bathroom usage was going to occur with that thing in our way. Hours (yes, we were very girly girly) of laughter and attempts to coerce each other into killing it ensued. Eventually one of the other woman killed it by throwing a sandal at it. But we left it in the hallway as no one had the nerve to actually move it- because it surely would rise from the dead. I was so creeped out by the thought of things crawling on me at night, that I slept with pants on and my sandals on my feet. Yes, I am ridiculous.

The next day we drove to the beach with the boys and the team. Swimmers the boys were not. Outside the water, they were tough and independent. Inside the water they became little boys, needing love and safety. Summer and I decided to stay in Haiti an extra few days, while her sister and the team left on their scheduled date. We took our stuff over to the boys home and camped out with the cockroaches.

For the next few days Summer and I traveled around Port au Prince with some of the boys, looking for their family members. We wanted to reunite these kids with their parents and families (some had not seen them in years) and needed permission from their parents to keep them in the boys' home. It was a beautiful but sobering time, watching the kids see their parents and siblings and neighbors after years of being apart. As far as I could understand, we found each family just by word of mouth. The boys had some idea of where they had grown up so we headed out in those areas, walked around a bit, then eventually a neighbor, relative, or childhood friend recognized them. Each time when they were recognized, people gathered around and began announcing their presence. By the time we arrived in front of their parents, crowds of people had gathered. Summer explained to each parent where their child had been, where they were now living and what MdL was doing for them. She asked each child if they would like to stay with their parents, but all shared that they wanted to stay at MdL. Each parent agreed that they would like their child to be raised at MdL. We gave them information about how to contact their children if they wanted to see them and then traipsed our way down through the hills, led through the rocks and the mud by the boys. At one point I remember sitting in a truck and the words, "I want to move here," came flying out of my mouth. I meant them, but the thought seemed so crazy and not like me, that I considered trying to grab the words and putting them back in my mouth. A few days later we bid a tearful goodbye to the boys, wondering when we'd be able to return.

Again, I left Haiti wondering what my role in the future there would be. I could be a nurse there. But me, really? The girl who hates dirt, creepy-crawling creatures, and being hot?

Quoting

2011-09-20T11:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here in sunny but chilly Seattle (more on that later), cuddled under a blanket (oh, the joy I find in being comfy and cozy and wrapped up in a blanket and sweater), reading a book where the following was quoted:

Rosenbury was riding in a train on his way to a speaking engagement. He noticed a boy in his late teens acting very nervous, moving from one seat to another. Dr. Rosenbury approached the boy and asked him if he could be of some help. The boy told his story. "I used to live in Springvale just a few miles ahead. This train goes right behind our back yard. My father and mother still live in the old house. Three years ago I had a fight with my dad and ran away from home. It has been three tough years. I wrote my mom last week and told her I wanted to come home just once and if dad agreed she was going to hang something white outside the house so I would know that my father had agreed to let me stop. I told her not to do it unless father agreed to let me come home." Dr. Rosenbury noticed the boy becoming increasingly agitated as he said, "Look sir, my house is just a few miles ahead and I am afraid to look. I am going to close my eyes. Would you look and see if you can see anything white hanging in the yard?" As the train came around the corner Rosenbury shouted, "Look, son, look!" You could hardly see the house for white. There was a large sheet hanging from the upstairs window, tablecloths, hankies, pillowcases hung on every tree, all across the clothes line, hanging from every window. The boy's face went white, his lips quivered as the train came to a stop. Rosenbury says that the last thing he saw of the boy he was running as fast as he could to the house of his father.

-Unknown Author

My eyes are swimming with tears as I write this. Is this not a beautiful picture of love and forgiveness? Shouldn't we love those around us, those who have messed up, hurt us, hurt others, in the same way? Not begrudgingly accept them back into our lives, but with hearts full and white flags waving, forgive and pour out love? Isn't this the way the Father has loved and forgiven us? Don't you want to be able to give that kind of love? Don't you want to receive it?

Malachi 4:6- "He will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers."

Luke 15:11-32- The Parable of the Lost Son

verse 32: "But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

The Beginning

2011-09-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

How I ended up loving and moving to Haiti is truly a testimony to God's creativity and faithfulness. He deserves all the thanks and glory for getting me there. I also pray that some of you who read this may be encouraged to pursue what you are passionate about, even if it seems crazy or others don't understand it.

I had a wonderful roommate in college, Katie, who grew up as a missionary kid. She was always interested in missions to the third world. I didn't understand this interest, but thought it was great-for her. The summer before our senior year she traveled to Haiti for three weeks to work in an orphanage. We laugh about it now, because she didn't have any idea what she was doing or who she would be working with once she arrived. I thought she was crazy and she realizes now that she was. Also, where was Haiti? I knew nothing about it. She came back from her trip in love with Haiti and the kids. We poured through her pictures and gazed at the beauty of the kids together. As long as I can remember I have been drawn to and enthralled by black children. I loved television shows like The Cosby Show, Different Strokes, and Webster, mostly due to the adorable children in them. If my mom saw a black child in a mall or store or restaurant she would always get my attention and I would melt. Maybe I sound ridiculous...but I don't care. Katie's excitement about her experience was contagious and I was mesmerized by these kids and their stories. I had to go to Haiti now. Once that interest grabbed ahold of me it wouldn't let go. The following summer Katie was already scheduled to go to Brazil with school so she couldn't go to Haiti with me. By then I was determined to go. I joined up with a team of mom's adopting from this orphanage who were going to visit their kids while they waited for their adoptions to be processed. First though, I had to graduate from college, take my state nursing boards, and pass them.

After 180 questions, the maximum amount of questions you can be asked on the Board of Nursing exam (as I recall, the computer may give you only 60 questions then it turns off, or it may give you more. I was lucky enough to receive all the questions.), I got into my mom's car and cried. Not a few tears. No, I cried an ugly, sorrowful, deep-down-in-your-soul cry. I was completely convinced I had failed the exam. Friends asked that weekend how it had gone and each time I burst into tears. I began to convince myself I would work at Starbucks and gosh darn it, I was going to enjoy it! I think I had about a week after the exam before I was scheduled to leave for Haiti. I had the option of calling the licensing office after a few days to find out if I had passed. Or, I could wait a few weeks to receive the results in the mail. I agonized over the decision. Should I call and find out before leaving for Haiti, so I wouldn't fear the unknown while I was gone? If I didn't pass, would my trip be ruined? If I passed, my trip would be fantastic and I wouldn't be worried all week. Or, should I wait and not spoil my trip if I hadn't passed? A few days before I was set to leave I received a phone call. On the other end was the health department. They hadn't received my college transcripts so they couldn't process my test results. I gave them the information they needed to obtain the transcripts then the lady on the other end asked, "Do you know your test results?" My heart sank and I thought "Oh my gosh. She's going to tell me I failed over the phone. That is so cruel!" I said a very weak "No", then she said I passed. My heart leaped with excitement but I didn't want there to be any mistake made. I asked her to check again. She came back on the line and she confirmed that yes I had, in fact, passed! I thanked her profusely, hung up the phone, then danced around my apartment. A huge weight had been lifted and now I was even more excited to leave for Haiti. The miraculous part of this, in addition to the fact that I had actually passed, was that I should never have been allowed to take the test if the health department didn't have my transcripts. I had filled out all the proper paperwork for my transcripts to be there, but now they were saying they weren't. I believe God intervened to give me the results because He knew I couldn't decide whether to call or wait for the results and I was a wreck trying to decide. I was actually a nurse now. I wouldn't have to be a fake one while in Haiti.

Another blessing was given through this trip. A few weeks before my departure I received an email from a person in charge of the adoptions from the orphanage I would be visiting. She shared that a couple from Tacoma- about an hour from where I lived- had just been to Haiti recently to visit their Haitian daughter (in the process of being adopted) and now the adoption had been completed. The couple couldn't return to Haiti so soon after just leaving so they needed someone to escort their daughter home. Would I mind doing this? Um, no…I would LOVE to do this! My aunt had joked that I shouldn't try to sneak any of the kids on the plane. I wouldn't have to sneak now.

I left for Miami then met up with another woman traveling to the same orphanage and we split a hotel room. The next morning we met the rest of our team at the Miami airport. Each person in the group was friendly, engaging, and full of anticipation of going to see their kids. We arrived into a hot, sticky airport in Haiti, and I thought "WHAT AM I DOING?" We threw our numerous bags into a van and drove off to a hotel near the orphanage. Then, we showed up at the orphanage. My heart was captured by the multitude of children, many toddlers, running up to us and grabbing our legs or holding their arms up to be held. There were too many children and not enough staff. We picked up a few kids and took them to the hotel to swim and eat dinner with us. It seemed too easy. Did we even ask permission to take them with us? The kids themselves were eager to leave and many asked us in English to go to the hotel. The scene was repeated throughout the week. We spent the majority of our time at the hotel with the kids. One or two afternoons I spent organizing the medical cabinet at the orphanage, but that was the extent of my medical duties.

Towards the end of the week we took a drive up towards the mountains to check out a home for former street boys. Approximately 48 boys were living with an American man, a nurse, in a large house. Many shared their stories of living on the streets and how they had been taken off the street by this man. The kids pulled out their drums and we had an impromptu time of worship. That night, some of the boys joined the man taking care of them at our hotel to go swimming, so we interacted with them a bit more.

I bawled all the way to the airport in Haiti. I didn't want the trip to end and my heart was wrecked. I won't go into details, but the journey back to Washington with the Haitian girl from the orphanage was delightful and eventful. We had a joyous reunion with her parents in the Seattle airport. Then, I was left to sort out my feelings from this trip. I didn't start my job at the hospital for another month, which left me lots of time to think...too much time. What was my purpose in going to Haiti? I didn't feel like my time there was over. I loved the kids I'd met, but I couldn't adopt them all...or any of them (the orphanage kids already had future families waiting for them and I was in no position to adopt, and how could I help the boys' home?) What did God want from me now, in relation to Haiti? I missed it and yearned to be there. It haunted me.

Linkage

2011-08-18T18:06:00.000-07:00

Wonderful links of the day:

Wresting with Poverty in the US:

http://allthingshendrick.blogspot.com/2011/08/guest-post-wrestling-with-poverty-in-us.html

Loving the poor through relationship:

http://allthingshendrick.blogspot.com/2011/08/wrestling-with-poverty-in-us-part-two.html

Yes, Haiti does have peanut butter that is actually made there. Sending in a bunch from the states, while thoughtful, won't truly help Haiti in the way it needs.

http://blexi.blogspot.com/2011/08/when-to-buy-local.html

Let me tell you...

2011-07-28T15:03:00.000-07:00

The delightful woman I live with often starts a conversation with me that way. Last week, she revealed that she was quiet surprised (later she even said disappointed) when I showed up at her door to meet her for the first time that I wasn't much darker with a cute French accent. My friends, her great-nephew and great-niece, had told her I lived in Haiti. So this is what she thought about me before I arrived. We laughed and laughed about it. Truth be told, I wish I was much darker with a cute French accent....

Actually, off topic from dark women with French accents, but here I go anyway.... I'm going to let YOU tell Me. What do you think of the following post? A friend posted it on her facebook, and it came from the Desiring God website. Give me your thoughts and opinions, please! Do you think you're not called because you haven't had a dramatic "calling" experience? Better think about that!

Don’t Complicate the "Missionary Call"

July 27, 2011

by: David Sitton

Category: Commentary

I was never called to be a missionary, nor was I drafted. I volunteered. No special call was needed. I chose to go; I wanted to go; I was compelled to go. And where I go is always determined by an open Bible and a stretched-out map of the regions where Christ is still unknown and un-praised!

I chuckle when I hear missionaries and pastors talk about “surrendering to the call” of ministry. I always want to ask, “After you surrendered, were you water-boarded, or just hauled off in handcuffs and leg irons.” Was it really necessary for you to be abducted by a heavenly vision before you would go into the work of the gospel?

The missionary call is not like a prison dog that tracks us down, sniffs us out, and hog-ties us for the nations. That is silly-talk and really bad theology. Nowhere in Scripture is a mysterious (supernatural) call a prerequisite before we can respond to the Great Commission. The opposite is actually true.

Don’t Wait for a Call

No aspect of mission is more bogged down with extra-biblical baggage than the “missionary call.” The clear command of Christ “to go” should be, by itself, sufficient to set you on your way “into all the world. . . proclaiming the gospel to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15). You can’t go wrong by trying to go. Trust the Lord to direct your moving feet. If you are convinced of your “call” to “stay”, this will only serve as added confirmation that you are right. Don’t fear the risk of ending up some place the Lord doesn’t want you. Too many already took that “risk” when they assumed a stateside ministry or vocation with no confirmation other than their own desires.

Dramatic calls to ministry are the exception. If you have it in your heart to go, then go. Then, lean on the sovereignty of God to get you where he wants you in the harvest. Don’t worry about “running ahead of God.” You aren’t that quick!

Try to Go

Paul tried to go into Asia, but the Lord wouldn’t let him. He then tried to go to Bithynia, but was “kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia.” Still, he kept trying to go. I count at least six cities in Acts 16 where Paul tried to take the gospel. It was only then that the Lord gave him a vision of the Macedonian. He woke up the next morning and immediately headed for the regions north, having “concluded that God had called them to preach the gospel in Macedonia.

The heavenly vision wasn’t a “call” to mission, it was specific guidance for missionaries that were already going.

The point? Don’t complicate the missionary call. Get radical with the going and God will get radical in the specific guiding.

David Sitton is the founder and president of To Every Tribe Ministries. David is a career church planting missionary who lived and worked in Papua New Guinea for 16 years, making first gospel contact with several headhunting, cannibalistic tribes.

Relationship

2011-07-18T12:36:00.000-07:00

I yearn for deep relationships, to be a part of community. So why do I, especially when I am in Haiti, become bogged down in tasks? Is it because there are so many needs? Maybe. Or maybe its because I also long to feel and to be needed. I long to accomplish something, to check off my responsibilities on a list, to believe I am good at something. But was is the greater need? When I take the time to think about it and look at scripture, I know it is to spend time with our Lord, to spend time with people, to invest. Lord, help me to remember this and offer myself to you and to live with a focus on relationships with others. The Haitians teach me this. They live inter-dependently, helping each other, sharing with each other, talking and laughing along the way. This is my favorite part of Haiti.

My time in relationship with the kids this last trip was facilitated by de-worming the kids (giving the kids worm medicine) in the morning and engaging in play with toddlers. Read this post if you need a reminder of how the de-worming went last time. Because this time I didn't tell any of the younger kids what the pill was, they all swarmed around me, thinking it was candy or a vitamin, sticking out their hands for more. Suckers! Amazingly, most of the older kids took the pills like mature young adults. No exciting stories of punishment or coercion to share this time.

Another morning I spent with the cooks at the boys home. It was full of dancing, singing (made up verses to the tune of Creole songs), and mockery of me for the fact that I don't know how to cook Haitian-style. Pure joy.

The afternoons were spent seeing patients in our medical clinic, holding sweet kids at the feeding program, and in conversations with our kids. The kindergarten-ers and 6th graders had a graduation ceremony while I was there, with other students presenting songs and dances. A beautiful way to celebrate these kids' achievements.

The group of people I traveled with were insightful, flexible, kind, and funny. They worked on various construction projects for the ministry, as well as assisted some Haitians in building a home for a woman in our community. Thank you to those who donated money to pay for this house! Each evening the team and I and some staff members spent on the roof of the guesthouse discussing Jesus, kids, Haiti, and our struggles. We also threw ourselves into a massive, hour-long pillow fight with the girls at the girls' home. Epic.

Hidden Treasures

2011-06-23T23:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as I was packing for Haiti I found a camera card. I'd passed over it many times when moving between Haiti and the states and between different houses here in California. This time I decided to pop it in my camera to take a look at what was on it. To my complete delight, I found over two hundred pictures that I had never looked at. Something happened a few weeks after I took those pictures that caused me to forget all about them....like the earthquake.

This is Beauty: Women who love their children, serve kids, and do their jobs amidst abundant laughter and prayer. Each day, at 12 pm, these ladies meet in an upper room to pray for those they love and their country. These happy ladies cook and clean at the boys' home (the boys do chores, as well, and do their own fair share of cooking). They are feisty, love Jesus, and KNOW how to cook. Madam Michle, on the far left, has cooked at the boys' home since it started almost 8 years ago. These boys are her boys.

My Haitian Mama. Carole (pronounced Ca-wole) exudes joy. Her personality is bigger than life, as is her infectious laugh. Whenever we have a time of feeding our neighbors in the ravine, Carole is the one who cooks for them. My favorite part of these times is watching her shake her booty and joining in with her. The beating of the drums and voices joined in song to our Lord in a hot, sweaty outdoor church...no words can explain the utter joy that I feel. Carole's presence is the icing on the cake. I think she just can't help herself and her booty and arms start a-shakin'.

Next to Carole is Monis. I regretfully don't have an individual picture of her to share. She used to cook at the guesthouse where I live and now is a nanny for the littlest girls at the girls home. When I was sick or had a hard day she always knew without me telling her and lent a listening ear. I learned much of my Creole by listening to her and practicing with her.

She may be little, and we do call her Ti Mommy (little Mommy), but this woman is a force to be reckoned with. She always displays concern and care for me, so I totally feel loved by her, but when she is concerned about something or someone, you better watch out because she will get all up your in face.

Little sassafras, Estaline. In two days I'll get to kiss this sweet face and hold this sweet chub.

Can you understand just a bit why I am so thrilled to get on that plane tomorrow?

No to fixing...

2011-06-18T22:30:00.000-07:00

In thinking about my upcoming trip, I decided to send out the following email to my team members. This subject has been weighing on my heart heavily in recent months. I don't pretend to have it all figured out. These are just my raw thoughts and experiences. I'd love to hear your thoughts, readers, on this subject...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Often times when we go to the third world, whether we realize it or not, we may be going with an attitude of pity for the nation we are visiting. Please pray and check your heart and make sure before you get there and when you arrive that this is not your attitude. Let me tell you right now: you will learn that Haitians are not to be pitied. They have their share of problems, yes, but in the United States we have our problems as well. Their problems are just different than ours. You will learn that they are blessing you more than you are blessing them. This can hurt our pride, I know, but that's just Jesus
making us humble! We cannot save Haiti in one week and we are not called to do that and God doesn't need us to. I've seen this attitude in others, which has made me realize I have had this attitude, and
I've needed to repent of it.

Secondly, how can we truly help Haiti? Is it by giving them food from the US, supplies from the US, and turning them into another US? I vehemently exclaim, "No!" Since last year's earthquake this has turned into a bigger problem than it already was. So much rice and other food was brought into Haiti from the US and other countries (referred to as"food dumping") after the earthquake that rice grown and sold in Haiti was more expensive to purchase. Thus, rice growers lost their livelihood and less money was poured into Haiti's economy. There are hundreds of missionary organizations and NGO's staffed by foreigners in Haiti. Yet, Haiti is still in poverty. Why is this? I believe and have seen that much of this is due to us foreigners wanting to give, with unknowingly focusing on a relief approach, rather than development. So, while you are there, in addition to pouring out Christ's love on people, focus on how you can develop and impart what you know and your skills into the Haitians, rather than how you can "fix" Haiti. Get to know the Haitian staff. It is easy to stay in your comfort zone and be relational with the American staff, but I can promise you that you will be blessed and have a very different trip if you are intentional about meeting these people and learning from them.

Along these lines, please encourage those you know who want to give to Haiti through you to send money- either with you, or through Child Hope's website. I know, people often want to know that a specific item that they have personally picked out is making it to a specific child or cause. They may even want a picture of the child holding their new underwear that was picked out especially for them by someone in the states. Encourage them that their money will be put to better use so
supplies and needs can be bought in Haiti and in turn boost Haiti'seconomy. Haiti has underwear, shoes, hygiene products, and tools, not to worry!

While Kaitlyn was in Haiti, she and I, along with a few other of the staff and housemates, read a thought-provoking and extremely relevant book called When Helping Hurts. If you want more information on what I am writing about, I suggest reading this book. Also, the following blog (with links below), written by missionaries in Haiti, is amazing and speaks along these lines.

"The widespread devastation caused by the earthquake was only possible as a result of economic injustice. Haiti has long been subjected to external interventions such as unjust international trade
policies,onerous debt payments on debt acquired by the Duvalier dictatorships, military interventions and paternalistic charity that have perpetuated the nation’s structural poverty. Beginning in the 1980’s, structural adjustment policies imposed on Haiti by international financial institutions like the World Bank and IMF and food dumping by the United States weakened national agricultural production and exacerbated the poverty in rural Haiti, resulting in mass urban migration that made Port-Au-Prince especially vulnerable to this earthquake."

http://blexi.blogspot.com/2010/07/wondering-what-you-can-do-for-haiti.html
http://blexi.blogspot.com/2009/12/shoes-for-haiti.html

Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope this didn't sound like a lecture. Rather, I hope this encourages you to think deeper about your time in Haiti and how to serve the poor wherever you are.

4 weeks!

2011-05-24T22:17:00.000-07:00

Hi dear readers! Thank you for still reading! I'm loving life in CA and enjoying my time with friends. My sister spent a sweet weekend with me a couple of weekends ago where we walked around my neighborhood and the beach, shopped, and ate some delicious food with friends. I'm starting to feel more comfortable at work and am thankful all of my coworkers have been very kind and helpful.

I was able to work into my contract a week off in June/July to go to Haiti! I'll be gone June 25-July 2, with Kaitlyn (my fabulous former roommate in Haiti) and some of her friends. As a team we are hoping to raise enough money to build a house for an Haitian family. These are pre-fabricated houses that Child Hope has been building for Haitian staff members and friends in our community who lost their homes or had significant damage in the January 12, 2010 earthquake. A lot of money was donated for these homes soon after the earthquake and Child Hope has been able to build numerous ones with the money, but the money has run out so we're trying to raise it to build one while we're there. By "we" I actually mean them...the ones capable of this. It would be fun to lift a hammer and hit some nails and sweat a bit more than I normally already do while I'm there, but I imagine I'll be busy doing medical stuff. Our Haitian staff and masons will be working on building this house with the American team members.

First of all, please pray for our trip. Pray we will have humble hearts to serve our God and the Haitian people, and each other. Secondly, if you are interested in donating for the building of the house or for other needs of the ministry, you may click here to see a cool website that one of the team members, Lauren, designed. There is a link on it that will take you to a fundraiser page where you can designate the money for us to build a house.

We are so thankful for people who want to partner with us to love the Haitian people!

2011-04-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

I'm in California! I have a job! I started last week and had my first shift all by my lonesome (without a preceptor) on the floor yesterday in a children's hospital in Southern California. I am super excited to be working, to be busy, and to have a purpose, after feeling very unproductive the last two months. Although resting can be grand, and oh so necessary, there is really something wonderful about doing something you have been trained to do, earning a living, and having a purpose. Oh yes, and the Sun! Yeah baby!

My parents and I drove here over a period of a week. My dad had business to do in a couple different cities in California so we made stops along the way where we stayed with his former boss and good friend, as well as my grandparents. We had some great laughs and bonding moments, especially when we were tired.

The last day that my parents were here we stayed with my friends Jamie, Loni, Darren, and Carolyn, who I know from their numerous visits to Haiti. They have a beautiful house on the water, not to mention are just loving, welcoming people. Jamie, Loni, and I rode bikes around Balboa Island after church and dropping my parents off at the airport. I love being able to be outdoors, where its not rainy or too hot to move. To my utter delight, my former roommate in Haiti, Kaitlyn, was passing through So Cal so I picked her up and we chatted into the night. Last weekend I went to a meeting at Jamie and Loni's house for a (MdL's) Camp in a Box meeting, where I was reunited with numerous friends who'd visited MdL in Haiti over the years. I think I shocked a few people by walking into the house. I had never seen these people outside of Haiti or looking so clean!

Being here doesn't make me miss Haiti and my kids any less though. I stayed with friends last week that I met in Haiti last fall, John and Michelle. Reminiscing about the kids with people who know and love them and together stalking other people's facebooks with the kids' pictures has been therapeutic. Sharing that passion with others helps me feel like a person who fits, rather than the misfit I sometimes feel like when I am away from Haiti. It might not make sense to you, but its hard to fit back into the first world after being away for awhile. Anyway, Michelle and John were fabulous hosts, who took me to the beach and showed me some of their favorite restaurants in the area. Michelle and I also participated in some serious "Just Dance" sweat fests. You Need to check out this Wii game. You'll think you're such a good dancer, even though you really may not be.

Where am I?

2011-03-06T14:06:00.000-08:00

I didn't want to post anything until I had figured something out for certain. Well, what in life is really certain?

I left Haiti early in February. I never, at any point, stopped loving what I do there, stopped being amazed by and adoring my kids, or stopped loving the country as a whole. I was just exhausted and needed a break. I'm visiting my family and friends in the Seattle area, as well as working as a nanny for a couple of families. I have also applied for a nursing license to work in California. There are a couple of traveling nursing jobs that I am interested in, which means I would work at a hospital for 13 weeks, then after that I can either stay (if they like me, the job is still needed, and I like them), or I can go to another hospital or back to Haiti. Praying, praying...I need that nursing license first before I can move forward with anything, though. I appreciate your prayers for me to be thankful in the midst of the waiting and for me to be aware of how God wants to use me here, in Washington, right now. Help me to be fully present Lord in the now.

January in Pictures

2011-03-01T11:13:00.000-08:00

Makenlove

One of the four newest boys, Tiyou.

Stanley, who moved into the boys home in January with his little brothers, Wilson and Tiyou.

Emmanuel, Yvenel, and Lukenson

Schneider, who also moved into the boys home in January.

Lukenson playing marbles

Wilson

A couple of my buddies at the feeding program

Yvel, one of my favorite kids who attends the feeding program and hangs out in our neighborhood.

I have a huge soft spot for this girl, Katrina. We've been through a lot together. She put a rock in her ear years ago, but she's becoming a little mother hen for the youngest girls.

Oh, Daphne. Oh, Daphne.

Adniaka, the girl with the worms in my last post.

Adniaka and Katrina

Daphne

Reasons to Love....

2011-02-15T21:42:00.000-08:00

....Haiti

1. Haitians love to tease. LOVE to tease. Nothing seems to be too private or embarrassing for them to not use as ammunition. The same joke can be told over and over again, in exactly the same way, and it can still be hilarious. Some examples of endlessly repeated jokes: "Ou manje anpil (You eat a lot)", "Ou gen kolera (You have kolera)," and "Ou malad? Eske ou gen diare? (You're sick? Do you have diarrhea?)." Years ago I fell down the stairs at the boys' home (I am a self-professed complete klutz) and they still laugh ~~at me~~ with me about it. They have taught me how to laugh at myself and to not take myself so seriously.

2. Haitians kiss each other on the cheeks in greeting, making me feel super welcome and cared for, even if I've just met them.

3. Haitians take care of their family members. It may be burdensome for those who are in poverty, but they want to help their parents and siblings and other members of their family with their needs. Large numbers of people may live together and look out for each other.

4. They sing without reservation. I love to sing. Enough said.

5. Haiti has no shortage of drama or adventures to keep you on your toes. Just when I think I can predict what my day might look look like, BAM! something happens to make my head spin around.

6. Along the lines of Number 5, Haiti has made me learn that I KNOW NOTHING. I moved to Haiti thinking I knew a lot about humanity, how to love people, and how to solve problems. Every day I learn that this is not the case. As frustrating as it can be, it makes me rely more on the Holy Spirit to live my life and to be in ministry.

7. Even though Port au Prince is heavily populated, I've often run into people I know at the market, on the street, or in restaurants. That rarely happens to me in the states. Haiti feels very small in comparison.

8. Running. Its hot, its sweaty, its dirty. I never know when I might trip and land on my face, causing all the people cooking, walking, or driving on the streets to stare and laugh at me.

Post-op Report

2011-02-08T11:01:00.000-08:00

I apologize for the late post in telling you all that finally Sophiana had her surgery on January 28th. The surgery lasted longer (3 1/2 hours) than her surgeon had anticipated it would as there was even more swelling than he had expected. She is continuing to have some dizziness/balance issues so we are praying that those are short-term complications and she can return to school this week. Thank you for your prayers for Sophiana and for making this surgery happen! She is very appreciative of all you have provided for her. Soon I will post some words directly from her.

Warning: Not for the Squeamish

2011-02-04T16:35:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago the boys' home gained four new little boys into its home and the girls’ home welcomed two new girls into it. One of the little boys, Schneider, with the approximate age of 7, had apparently been living on his own for at least a year in a nearby tent city. The other three boys and the two girls lived in a tent outside of a nearby house. Their grandma was taking care of them over the last year as their parents died during the earthquake.

A few days after they moved in, Ashley, who is back working with us, de-wormed the new boys. The day after that a couple of our little boys exclaimed to me, “Schneider is pooping worms!” “Oh,” I said. “Well, at least he’s getting rid of them!” Later that day I passed out worm pills at the girls’ home. Here’s a few of their reactions: “I am not taking that! I don’t want worms coming out of my nose or mouth or butt!...Years ago I took that medicine and I pooped worms at school. I was so scared that I ran out of the bathroom and forgot to pull my skirt up. Everyone made fun of me!...I’m not skinny like (insert name), so I don’t have worms.” After some coercion and punishment doled out by a nanny for one girl, all the girls had chewed or swallowed the dreaded pill. I took one myself to convince a few to take it.. It tastes like dirt and you could probably use it to write on a chalkboard. Estaline and Dave, whose mom works at the girls’ home, both begged me for pills when they saw me giving them to the girls, thinking it was candy.

On Friday morning, Ashley and I decided Adniaka, the two-year-old newest girl, needed an IV because she had been vomiting and having diarrhea over night and refused to drink liquids. After a few unsuccessful attempts, we stopped trying and she began to drink a bit. We let her sleep for a bit then she woke up to vomit. Ashley grabbed for a cup and held it in front of Adniaka’s mouth. I was about to run for a towel when I was stopped short by Ashley. “What the…?” she exclaimed, with a horrified look on her face. She held up the cup, where a very long worm was curled around the bottom of it. We looked at each other in horror, made gagging sounds, laughed, and then I called for Bill, who was in his kitchen, to show him the evidence. His first words: “You need to save that for Susette. She’ll want to see it!” We obliged and kept the cup on the coffee table until she returned. I left for awhile to check on some of our other kids and when I came back Susette declared that she’d measured the worm and it was 10-inches long!

Throughout the afternoon and evening she began to drink more and ate a bit. That night though, she slept on a cot in mine and Ashley’s room so we could keep an eye on her. Early in the morning she began to cough and she coughed for most of the next hour. Each time she coughed Ashley or I grabbed a flash light and knelt down at the cot to see WHAT she was coughing up. Neither of us wanted to wake up to see a worm lying next to Adniaka or one lying in bed next to either one of us. Thankfully God spared us from that nastiness.

The next day Susette found me to tell me that Adniaka had coughed up another worm at the girls’ home. I accidentally left my phone over there so Chabine, one of girls, grabbed it and took a picture. Thanks, Chabine, so kind of you!

During church on Sunday one of the girls looked for me and said that Adniaka was throwing up. I found her outside with Ariana. Thoroughly grossed out, Ariana told me that Adniaka had coughed up another worm IN THE AISLE OF THE CHURCH. Fritz was so kind to offer to pick it up and I did too, but Ariana mustered the courage. I gathered myself together (holding the laughter inside- I admit, I might be sick thinking this is funny) and walked in with her because she asked for the moral support and to guard her so no one could see what she was doing in the middle of the church.

The following day I heard from Katrina, one of our younger girls, that Oline, slightly older than her, was changing Adniaka’s diaper and saw a worm crawling out. She freaked out and Katrina grabbed some toilet paper to pull it the rest of the way out. Since then no other worms have been seen.

Katrina, I am proud of your ability to deal with grossness. You are on your way to being a good mom or medical professional! Oh Haiti, you never leave me with a shortage of stories to tell!

Surgery Tomorrow!

2011-01-27T14:27:00.000-08:00

Sophiana is having her surgery tomorrow, finally! Her doctor has had multiple appointments this week with her parents to explain the surgery and its possible complications, as well as to have them sign consent forms (which shows he is legit, in my opinion). Please join me in prayer for complete removal of the infection behind her ear and for her to regain her hearing. Once again, thank you for your prayers and for donating to the surgery!

2011-01-23T19:28:00.001-08:00

I am totally into this book:

Read it. Please. I may be completely frustrated- because its opening my eyes to the way I sometimes think and work, especially here- but I am loving what it is teaching me and the ideas it is giving me about how to do ministry. Like any book, some thoughts and suggestions may need to be ignored or changed to work in your living situation or place of ministry, but I think as a whole it is an eye-opener to my behaviors and thinking and has great theories and practical applications.

More Christmas Program pics

2011-01-18T20:02:00.000-08:00

*I started typing this on New Year's Day, but am just now posting it.

Happy New Year to all! I am excited to start a new year in Haiti and to see what the Lord will do in this country and in our lives.

I am using the quieter day after being up late last night to catch up on blogging, especially of pictures. How did YOU celebrate last night and today? In addition to blogging, reading, and relaxing, I get to eat some fantastic soup Jamou, made by our sweet cooks at the orphanage. Soup Joumou is traditionally served early in the morning on January 1, in celebration of their independence in 1804, as they were forbidden to eat the soup when they were under the rule of their French masters.

Christmas Program pictures:

Jacob and Johnyve

Asher (my friend Brittany's son) and Elisee

Daphne during her solo

Norleen, one of our staff members' kids

Cherley with her little brother

Ensis, one of the girls who goes to our school

Fabiola, the fabulous. She's only eight, but she is responsible for taking care of Dave.

Angelina, who goes to our feeding program.

Jerry. I just love this kid. He's always asking for band-aids, but usually can't tell me why he needs it. He's only five, but watch out...

Susette. Doesn't she look like a cute little elf here?

Marcorel and Scotti, the security detail.

Semi looks like a grown man in his suit! That's Gibson singing in the front and our MdL girls singing and dancing.

Lanyess. Enough said.

Sophiana Update #2

2011-01-16T14:47:00.000-08:00

All of the money for Sophiana has been raised! A hundred thank you's for supporting and blessing her with the ability to have the surgery! She has been having more pain this weekend, so I'll be taking her in to her doctor tomorrow and hopefully we can schedule the surgery for this week.

Ayiti Pap Peri...

2011-01-14T12:11:00.000-08:00

....Haiti is not Perishing. This slogan has appeared on a numerous shirts and billboards here since the earthquake. We shouted it out as we sang in the "bens" on Wednesday night, united together in prayer for this amazing and complicated country. Many Haitians perished last year, from the earthquake and cholera, but the country and its people are still fighting and showing a beautiful tenacity to live and love with joy in the midst of crushing sorrow.

One year ago today our world seemed to crumble around us. Rather than write all over again about those minutes and the days following, you can read it here, here, and here. We are recovering and God has brought beauty from ashes, as he has promised. We cannot forget though, and we shouldn't. Everywhere around us are broken buildings, cracks in walls, rubble, and hurting hearts. This week Bill and Susette Manassero took five children- two girls and three boys- into the boys and girls' orphanages who lost their mom and dad in the earthquake. We won't forget. One of our other little boys moved into the orphanage in June. His mother died months after the earthquake, but we met him because he and his mother stayed in the "bens" (sport court next to the boys' home) with our kids for the week after the earthquake. We can't forget. Do I want to forget? No. I don't want to forget how I saw all our neighbors come to help strangers when they were bloody and losing limbs. I don't want to forget how children and teenagers, our kids, asked to translate or to hold hands or to help adults go to the bathroom after they'd had surgery. I don't want to forget the doctors who rescued us from our insanity but also brought necessary laughter to the long days.

On Monday and Tuesday our children and staff gathered together in the mornings to pray and worship, to cry out to God in thanksgiving and to ask him to bring about change in our hearts and in Haiti. Both mornings kids and adults shared their earthquake experiences and how God had brought blessings through this experience. On Wednesday the kids and staff walked around our neighborhood, singing and praying for the country. Throughout the city churches were in session and many schools also conducted walks similar to ours. In the evening, right before the time of last years' earthquake, those kids and staff who had lost friends or family in the earthquake lit a candle and shared the name of their loved one who died. Five year old Tiu, one of the new boys, lit a candle in his mother's honor. I almost lost it then. Ti-John shared that he could light candles forever in honor of all his Haitian brothers and sisters who died. It was an important time for us to share together and to grieve together.

Pray with us as we see the discouragement the Haitians face every day and that a new Haiti that glorifies God will be rebuilt and restored.

Sophiana Update

2011-01-08T09:20:00.000-08:00

As of today, $650 has been raised for Sophiana's surgery. THANK YOU readers for caring about this young girl and for reading my blog where you met her (click Sophiana's story to know more about this young girl). However, we are only 1/3 of the way until all the money has been raised for the mastoidectomy. We need a total of $1,877 by next Friday, January 14th, when the doctor hopes to perform the surgery. Last Monday we had a doctors appointment where he looked at her CT scan (thanks to YOU she was able to have it), which showed a collection of fluid in the mastoid. She is continuing to take her antibiotics and ear drops while waiting for next Friday's surgery. She will recover in the hospital for one night and then go home. Thankfully, the recovery is quick and she will be able to return to school on the following Monday.

If you are interested in donating to the cost of the mastoidectomy, please donate here. Please also pray for Sophiana's quick recovery and healing. THANK YOU!

Sophiana

2010-12-31T13:23:00.000-08:00

Behind my house lies the wreckage of a home destroyed in the earthquake. In the yard, behind this crumpled house, down a path lined by chickens and bushes, is a bright green wooden house. After the earthquake a family lived in the yard of the crumpled house as their own home was destroyed in the quake. Due to donations to our ministry's earthquake relief fund from people around the world, Child Hope/MdL was able to build a pre-fabricated home, this green house, for this family. The mother of the home works across the street from our boys home as a cook. She sells her food on the street. Everyone in our ministry refers to her as "The Happy Cook" because she always has a gigantic smile on her face.

About two months ago "The Happy Cook's" daughter, Sophiana, approached me saying her ear was hurting. Sophiana attends the school that it is a part of our ministry. I checked out her ear and started her on a week's course of Amoxicillin. The pain continued beyond the week. She saw me in the clinic and asked for help again. I am not very knowledgeable about ears and the treatment for ears (beyond Amoxicillin) so I instructed her to go see a doctor at a nearby hospital. A week later she approached me saying it was still hurting and the doctor she saw said it looked fine. No medicine prescribed. I gave her ibuprofen and had the principal of the school, Ivens, explain to her mother how to take her to the University of Miami Hospital that was created here after the earthquake. A few days later I ran into the the principal and Sophiana on the street, looking for me. Sophiana and her mother had visited the U of M hospital, but the guards would not let her in the gate. I was annoyed for her, but not surprised. Sometimes if you don't get there early enough you won't be allowed to enter to see a doctor at their clinic and if you don't look like you're in the midst of an emergency, you won't be allowed to enter the hospital. In my mind, this was an emergency as the bone behind her ear was starting to swell and cause the ear to stick out.

Ivens asked me to take her to the hospital as, because I am white, I could have a better chance at getting her in. As much as I hate it, I knew this was true. The first time I took Sophiana there, we were told two doctors were in surgery, but all the other doctors (foreigners who staff the hospital for a few weeks at a time) had left due to the unrest from the elections. Because I was persistent, I managed to talk to a nurse who instructed us to come by early the next morning and Sophiana would see a surgeon. The next morning found those doctors absent with no plan to arrive that day. Sophiana saw another doctor who appeared to be an intern and did not get excited enough about the infection to satisfy me. She was prescribed a ten day course of Augmentin and we were referred to General Hospital to see an Ear Nose and Throat doctor. I've never been to this hospital but I'd heard stories. Antonio, who was driving us, said he would need to bring a mattress to wait if he were to go by himself. In other words, he would be sleeping there for a long time before he were to get seen. He had a little more hope if I were to go, but still thought we should find another place for her to be seen. Later that afternoon a nurse practitioner arrived with a team from Canada to stay with us for the week. He checked out Sophiana's ear and thought she should be hospitalized and started on IV antibiotics. The swelling from the ear had also spread to her eye. Her ear infection had turned into an infection called mastoiditis, where the bone behind and above the ear becomes infected. The worry is that it can spread to the brain and cause meningitis.

The pictures are a bit grainy, but you can see the swelling (the shiny part) above her ear. Her eye was swollen shut for a day before beginning aggressive antibiotic therapy.

We checked out a few other hospitals that afternoon who refused to treat her and each recommended General Hospital. That night I sent out a few emails to missionaries here and to a doctor in the states who often volunteers her time in Haiti with other missionary friends of mine. This doctor, Jen Halverson, kindly called me that night and we discussed Sophiana's case. She passed on the girl's info to another expat doctor working at General Hospital and then we met her the next day. An ENT was also supposedly working there, but of course he was not there that day. The expat doctor, although specializing in TB, was very knowledgeable about how to treat the infection and suggested a course of antibiotics that I actually already had in stock at our clinic. I gave Sophiana five days of intramuscular injections of Ceftriaxone as well as oral Augmentin. I include these details in case medical people read this and take an interest in helping Sophiana.

At General Hospital we were referred to an ENT in the same area and we actually saw him later that day. He confirmed her diagnosis, took it very seriously, and agreed on the antibiotic regimen. After 5 days of Ceftriaxone IM, it was discontinued and she was started on Sulfacetamide ear drops and continued on the Augmentin. Fluid drained from behind the ear early last week, relieving much of the pressure and pain. This week I took Sophiana to another ENT recommended by Dr. Halverson for a second opinion. He recommended changing the ear drops to Ofloxacin and continuing the Augmentin for another five days. He has ordered a CT scan and recommends having a mastoidectomy performed, a surgical procedure where the infected portion of the mastoid is cleaned out.

This blog post has two goals. One, to share what healthcare in Haiti is like and how difficult it can be to navigate. Two, to share Sophiana's medical and financial needs and ask for your help in meeting them. The cost of the CT scan is $275 US dollars. Each doctor's appointment is $34 US dollars. The cost of the surgery is approximately $12000 HD (I'm waiting to hear back from the doctor about the exact amount), which equals $1,500 US dollars. Added together, this amounts to $1,877 USD (I am presuming that she will need at least three more doctor's visits, if not more). We are in need of people who will consider contributing to the cost of the CT scan and to the cost of the surgery. With most Haitians earning less than $1 per day, this is obviously not something Sophiana's family can pay for. Without the surgery, she may not regain her hearing in the affected ear and the infection will most likely spread to her brain. Please prayerfully consider how you may help her. If you are interested, you may donate here. Please include a note that you are donating specifically to Sophiana's medical fund, as otherwise the money will be allocated elsewhere. All donations are tax deductible.

Thank you for reading and for your prayers on behalf of Sophiana. May your New Year be blessed!

Feasting and Celebrating

2010-12-31T04:22:00.001-08:00

Last week was the culmination of weeks of preparation at MdL, creating a chaotic but exciting week. For over a month our kids have been practicing for our annual Christmas program, where we feed 400 adults and children from our community after presenting song and dance numbers and a nativity skit. Last week also included organizing gifts for our orphanage children, host a visiting team from Canada, and actually celebrating Christmas. The Manasseros also helped plan the wedding of one of our staff members, Fritzner, which was on Christmas Eve in the evening. I was involved in a bunch of medical issues with kids in our neighborhood and our kids starting the week before last and moving into this week.

For the Christmas program, held last Wednesday, groups of kids were led by a teacher or dance instructor in a dance, a song, or a recitation of bible verses. After a nativity skit performed by our kids, Marlval shared about Christ with all those in attendance, then food was served. Beforehand I was able to help our cooks and girls prepare some of it, much to the shock of the boys. Just because they don't see me cooking, doesn't mean I can't!

The attendees:

The line for people trying to get inside. Each child at our normal feeding program was given two tickets to invite friends or family members.

Patrick as security

Dave! Oh, how I love this child's eyes. and his smile. and his laugh. and...

The Big Boss. He (Fritz) totally cooks like this everyday...

My darling Dieunithe

Katrina's feet. Even her feet are cute.

Everyone was in their finest for the shindig.

Cherley. Beautiful as always.

Props to Google!

2010-12-29T18:15:00.000-08:00

Google, I was screaming last week, but this week we are totally friends! You gave me back my email address and my blog! I thought all my long hours of writing and recording my time in Haiti were gone, finished, zeroed out, but now you wiped away my tears (ok, I am being slightly melodramatic) and gave me back my words of the last year! Mesi mesi anpil! Jezi renmen ou! (ok, not really...). Word to the wise, and to myself, BACK UP YOUR BLOGS!

What we do when we feel cooped up

2010-12-13T16:55:00.000-08:00

Exercising isn't easy here. There is a Gold's Gym, in fact, but its too far away from where I live. Plus, I'd feel a bit guilty going to the gym when people are starving outside. So, I do workout videos. I usually live with at least one person (I've had a bunch of different roommates and housemates in the last year. All have been amazing) who likes to exercise. Right now, its my dear roommate Kaitlyn (and sometimes Erta, who is always a hilarious workout buddy). We do Tai Bo, Pilates, Jillian Michaels, and sometimes the really annoying Tracy Anderson. But, when we need to step outside our bedroom and breath the gassy, dusty air, we go for a run. I don't even really like running. But it gives me a sense of freedom that is difficult to find here not having my own car. And, I get to see people I know every time I run. I almost NEVER run into people while I am out driving, running errands, or running when I am in the states. Here, I have to sneak away and hide in order to not see someone I know. I wonder what Haitians think of us running. "Oh, you fat Americans! Having to run your belly fat off while we starve." Its normal to receive comments (not sure if they are rude or encouraging) from people on the street or in cars. Or, to receive marriage proposals or whistles. If you're looking for an ego boost, come to Haiti! Going back to the states after being here, I feel pretty lame. No one needs a thing from me- not sandals, food, or medical care (unless I am in my workplace)- and no one takes one look at me and suggests marriage.

Last week, before the primary election results were posted, Kaitlyn filmed this video:

An awesome videographer staying with us, Adam, edited the video and put music to it. Sniff, sniff...Kaitlyn left for Boston today, not knowing when she will return. I love you, friend, and am thankful God brought you here to be my roommate and to work with our ministry!

I now pronounce you...

2010-12-11T16:21:00.000-08:00

Today Kaitlyn and I had the great pleasure of attending the wedding of Zamor, one of our kids' tutors, along with a group of our girls. Mikerline, Cherley, and Isguerda were greeters/ushers and bridesmaids at the wedding.

Yesterday I asked Mikerline and Cherley what time we should arrive at the wedding. You may be thinking, "Shouldn't you arrive at least before the wedding is scheduled to start?" In the states, the answer is a fervent "yes." In Haiti, its "not really." From what I'd heard, weddings to do not start on time here. The bride, groom, bridal party, or all of the above may be horribly late. Mikerline and Cherley debated about the time we should arrive, then agreed 9:30 am. This morning I received a test message from Mikerline, who was already at the chapel, that we should get there by 10:00am. Right before I walked over to the girls home to round them up (at about (9:40), Monis, who works at the girls home, showed up at the guest house looking for soap for the girls. "The girls who are coming to the wedding are ready, right?" I asked her. "Two are and the rest are bathing," was her answer. I went back to my room to read for a bit, hoping that we wouldn't miss the start of the ceremony. When I arrived at the girls home I found two girls planning to go still in the shower. The others were running around fixing their hair. I put on my best stern voice and essentially told them to get their butts outside. After multiple rounds of this, I was informed by Jessica, a Haitian girl doing some of their hair, that she had just seen Zamor (remember, he is the groom) walking to the chapel on her way to the girls home. She approximated the time that she had seen him as 9:45. Ookkkaayyy... We were in good shape then. Eventually the girls got their butts outside and we began walking down the street. Kaitlyn and I were wearing sensible, but cute, sandals, whereas the girls all wore snazzy high heels. They didn't want to walk. Markenson was just pulling up at the boys home so we flagged him down to drive us to the chapel. When he finally arrived, he told us that he didn't have gas to take us. Like me, Markenson and most of our staff ignore my dad's instructions to leave half a tank of gas in the car. Isn't there a bunch more miles in the tank even after it goes to the empty sign, dad? We walked.

These are the models who live next door and we walked with to the wedding

We arrived at the chapel to maybe only five pews half filled by people. We were sooo not late. Kaitlyn, the girls and I walked out to the balcony to get some fresh air. While we were there, Enrique Pierre, a teacher at our school, asked me to take pictures as the choir walked down the aisle to their seats. I did so, then stood up again to take pictures once the music started for the ceremony. Apparently EVERYONE brought their camera to take photos and I would have to fight for my place to see the bridal party.

Wedding paparazzi

The nervous groom

To my utter horror/amusement, the first two flower girls who walked in slowly sauntered down the aisle to the tune of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight." I tried to restrain myself from looking at Kaitlyn, but I completely failed. She hid her face behind the program. Next, the music switched to "Colors of the Wind" from Pocahontas. Hopefully everyone thought I was just smiling and loving the ceremony. Isguerda and Cherley were two of 6 girls who lined up side by side in two lines, danced slowly down the aisle while crossing back and forth, making one line then two. After that, someone (have no idea about her title) walked in wearing a short white dress. Next, the bride. She was wearing white gloves, a frilly gown, and a white veil. Look at her:

I took some close-up pictures of her, the music stopped, then I sat down with the girls. I received a few looks from the other photographers, but whatever. I chalked it up to my severe WHITENESS and the fact that I was the only female amongst a bunch of male photographers. Katiana, sitting next to me, gave me a funny look then whispered, "Why did you sit down?" I answered, "Because everyone is at the front of the church now and I can get better pictures from here." "That lady wasn't the bride. Durlande (the bride) hasn't walked down the aisle yet," she answered with a giggle. WHAT? I snickered along with Kaitlyn then picked my white self up off the pew and stood up again. Sadly, the bride did not walk into the church to the tune of a Disney song, but she was beautiful. Here THE ACTUAL BRIDE IS, with her father:

The pastor preached, the choir sang, and then two women moved to the front of the church to sing. The song was "There can be miracles, when you believe... (I don't know the name of the song.) Its from "The Prince of Egypt", I believe! As the duet ended, ALL the photogs (it seemed like 20) began making their way to the front of the church. I knew from the last (but not as entertaining and beautiful) wedding I attended in Haiti that the excitement about THE KISS was building. Apparently, according to our girls, this is why most Haitians go to weddings. I fought my way for a good view, as before I left the house, this was Erta's request: "Get a picture of the kiss!" I really hoped that "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid would play, but alas. Zamor gave his bride a little peck, then was reprimanded by the crowd and commanded to give her another, better kiss. Here it is:

After this, we left with the girls who were not in the wedding and headed home. Kind of a boring end to a delightful morning, but we didn't have a car and didn't really know what was going on with a reception. Mikerline, Isguerda, and Cherley did go to it though. I'm sorry, but all future weddings I attend will have a lot to live up to now.

This evening Mikerline and I laughed about how I'd thought the wrong woman was the bride. It turns out the first woman I photographed was the bride's sister AND the godmother (its a Haitian tradition to have a godmother for a wedding ceremony. I'm not sure what her responsibilities are beyond that). If MY sister shows up wearing a beautiful white dress for MY wedding, causing people to mistake her for the bride, there's no telling what I will do to her. I know she would feel the same.

FYI: Obviously, I am not really a photographer. Sadly, the pictures turned out gross. The lighting was difficult to work with blah blah blah. I wanted you to get the idea of the wedding so I put them in anyway.

Sweetness

2010-12-10T19:42:00.000-08:00

In the midst of the country's chaos and uncertainty, this face showed up:

He lives across the street with two girls who attend our feeding program. He might be a cousin or he might not be... the story isn't clear. His mother works as a merchant during the day so the girls, about 8 years old and 14 years old, are his caregivers for the majority of his waking hours. Its obvious they adore him, but the things he is leaning are quite suspect, such as a few swear words. He is Everyone's new favorite kid. He is quickly learning many people's names on our street. I often walk outside my house and hear him squealing "Boo" (yes, that's referring to me) or something similar. Multiple times he has run across the street with his short little legs and I've had to shout at him not to cross before I can reach him in time. Lucas and Alicia Simmons spotted him first (or so they say) and are trying to find a better living situation for him or help his mother find a job that allows her to be more present with him during the day.

Another one (I'm sure the first wasn't enough for you) of that precious face

Election fiasco

2010-12-08T06:44:00.000-08:00

In a previous post I talked about the Presidential elections in Haiti, before they happened. It was a disaster during and after, and probably before, too.

On the Sunday when people were supposed to vote, they found that ballot boxes were already stuffed with ballots voting for Jude Celestin. Many people reported that when they went to vote their names were not found on the list of votees. At other places, the names of people registered to vote were strewn all over the ground and trampled underfoot, preventing people from voting. This morning I learned that Celestin is current President Preval's son-in-law. Preval wants Celestin to come to power in order to protect Preval from going to jail for fraud. The favorite to win this primary election, Michel Martelly ("Sweet Mickey"), was not included in the final two last night, so its now between Mirlande Manigat, a former first lady, and Celestin. Apparently, earlier yesterday Martelly was in the lead to come out on top of the primary election. What happened later in the evening?

Last night as Kaitlyn and I went to bed we wondered whether we should stay awake awhile to see if "anything" might be happening. This morning people have been burning tires on Delmas (the street we live off of, but its not actually super close to where they are doing that) and throughout Port au Prince, to create a statement that they are not happy about the results of the primary elections. In some areas, people are shooting and throwing rocks. We are not driving anywhere today, school is canceled for those of our children who go to schools other than the MdL school, and we are waiting, praying, and pretty much carrying on life as usual. We are stocked up on extra food, water, and gas as needed. Our kids are doing well and learning much about politics in this time! Thank you for your prayers for Haiti. The final vote for President will not occur for a few weeks.

This December....

2010-12-04T19:30:00.000-08:00

Cindy walked to the guesthouse tonight at 10:00 pm- not a normal time for her to come around (she lives at the boys' home and takes care of the younger boys). She had a nine year old boy in toe. He goes to our feeding program. He showed up at the boys' home tonight saying his mother and father both died from cholera yesterday. Today he says his uncle, who he is living with, beat him and doesn't want him back. Where does he go? Cindy came by to get my opinion about what to do. Bill and Sue are asleep so we can't ask them what they want us to do and it doesn't seem right to send him back to his uncle or to the streets tonight. I made sure he hasn't had diarrhea too, gave him some water, and then Cindy walked back to the boys' home to wake up Marlval to seek his advice, both of us hoping he can stay there for the night. Please pray for sweet Aston tonight. The stories of people here always seem to be multi-layered (what we call "The Onion") and it can take multiple conversations to figure out what is really going on in their lives- where they live, who died, who is now responsible for them, what their names and ages really are, etc.

*Update: I wrote this Saturday night, but wasn't able to post it due to slow internet. This morning, Cindy said one of our staff ladies heard what Aston was saying about his parents and called him out on it. She went to fetch his mother down the street. His mother came, not looking at all worried, and took him home, but not before he pleaded with Cindy not to let his mother take him. What is the truth here? Is he afraid because he told a bunch of lies? Or is he afraid of his mother or other relatives? We may never know.

On a completely different note, here are some recent pictures of Maison de Lumiere kids and staff kids. I've started uploading my pics onto Flickr, so to see more, click on the slideshow to the right.

2010-12-01T14:15:00.000-08:00

Life moves so quickly around here, from one disaster or disease to the next, that I sometimes don't have time to worry about each big event. A good thing, right? Right.... From cholera, to Hurricane Tomas, to cholera again, and finally to the elections this last Sunday (with cholera an ever-present threat threatening to devour our city, our children, our neighbors, our family, and our friends). Oh, let me throw in a sprinkle of a pregnant lady needing to deliver a baby but having nowhere to go, a friend needing to be hospitalized for severe diarrhea and vomiting (but not cholera, amen!), a school field trip being canceled due to threats of "shock" or "a tremor", and a teenage boy falling out of a truck then wood falling on top of him. How would I survive this tumultuous life without the One who gives me strength, allows me to throw my questions at Him, and makes sense in a sense-less world?

Let me write again what my friend Heather said: "Living in the states is like living in a sit-com. Things typically get resolved in about a half-hour. Life in Haiti is like living in a Shakespearean Tragedy." I'll give you some background story to explain this comment.

About two weeks ago Heather, a lactation specialist who moved here in August and works with Heartline, a program for pregnant and new moms, among other things, began helping a mother of twins who lives in our area. Heather lives about a 10 or 15 minute drive from us. Susette contacted Heather as this mother was having trouble producing enough milk to feed two babies and her babies are very small (3 lbs, 15 oz and 5 lbs, respectively). I examined the babies and found them extremely small for one month old and failing to thrive, but with no other overt problems.The plan was for her to eat at one of the orphanages daily and feed her babies some formula during this time. Its generally not a good idea here to give a mom formula to feed her baby(ies) as it usually results in the mom doing it exclusively her and her milk will dry up. This mom was already having difficulty producing enough milk for two babies so the goal was to feed her and hydrate her enough to increase her milk supply, as well as to help her babies gain weight by supplementing with formula. However, she hadn't shown up since we'd talked about it with her. While trying to figure out why she hadn't shown up and discussing alternate options to help her babies, Heather made the above comment. I'm not posting it here to minimize the problems we experience in the states or in other countries. I think it is a great analogy to explain the difficulties and seemingly insurmountable challenges people here face.

Here's what happening with the mother of the twins, Francois, now: last week Heather took her to Heartline where she was able to see other healthy, fat babies, other mothers learning how to take care of their babies, and learn herself how to care for and raise these children. Each week she'll go with Heather to continue her education. She is picked up by one of our staff members each day to eat her breakfast and lunch at the Manasseros (we found out she wasn't coming to eat at the orphanage because she lives too far away to walk with two babies), where we can check on her babies' progress and she uses a nursing supplementer, which gives her babies milk without having to use a bottle. To just give her formula to take home to feed the babies had many problems in itself: 1. Formula has many nutrients it lacks compared to breast milk 2. Will she always have clean water to prepare the formula, to wash the bottles, or to drink herself? If she doesn't, she'll surely give herself diarrhea (or cholera) or her babies and they could die 3. Formula is expensive. Please keep this family in your prayers. Francois lost her firstborn son last year. Pray for her to draw nearer to the Lord and for her sons to grow strong and healthy and to love the Lord as well.

Politics

2010-11-27T10:35:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow, Sunday, are the Presidential elections in Haiti. Yesterday I found some of our kids passing out business card type cards to each other and to me. On one side of these cards is a picture of one of the candidates who is in the lead, Jude Celestin, and on the other is a picture of President Aristide with the words underneath, "Bon Retour," meaning "Good Return." Apparently this candidate has both the backing of Preval, the current president, and former President Aristide, who was ousted out of Haiti in 2004 and sent into exile in Africa. I admit I don't understand all of the history with Aristide, but around here, he is not a popular man. Today I found some of our boys burning these business cards in their backyard. Where did the cards come from? The sky. Word has it they were dropped out of a plane yesterday.

Today we have a curfew at 8pm- no driving after this time. Tomorrow there is a ban on driving all day, so no driving even to church, due to the elections. Earlier in the week, while discussing the elections at our staff meeting, we were told by the Haitians that there would likely be a driving ban on Sunday. As silly Americans we thought, how are people going to vote if they can't drive to a voting place?! But, Haitians can walk to where they are voting. Supposedly, the ban is to prevent people from congesting the roads, protesting, and reacting violently on the streets. However, rumor has it that the government wants the ban to prevent people from voting at all. With Cholera inflicting many, I am sure that voting numbers will already be down. School is also canceled on Monday for those of our children who go to schools other than the MdL school, in anticipation of possible riots or violence on the day after the elections.

Another lead candidate is Marline Manigat, a former first lady. She would be the first female president of Haiti. "Sweet Mickey" Martelly, a singer with a reputation for crude lyrics, is also in the lead.

I ask that you be in prayer for the elections in Haiti tomorrow. Pray that the next president will act with justice and mercy for the people of Haiti and be truthful in all his/her dealings, rather than be corrupt and out for money, as most politicians in this country (ha, not only here!) have seemed to be in the past. The results of the elections will likely not be decided or announced until December or January, so please continue praying beyond tomorrow.

A Shakespearean Tragedy

2010-11-22T21:29:00.000-08:00

While trying to help a mother of twins today, my friend Heather said, loosely quoted, "In the states its like living in a sitcom. Everything seems to get resolved in half an hour. Here (in Haiti) life is more like a Shakespearean tragedy." How right she is...

I'll explain later about what happened today. I didn't want to forget these words.

Mama Bwooke

2010-11-21T17:42:00.001-08:00

My mom visited Haiti for the first time this week! If you know me, you know how much this meant to me. I actually was able to spend a day in Miami before she arrived then we flew down to Haiti together.

In Haiti I, along with most foreigners I know, feel constantly dirty and sweaty. A dirty missionary. Most Haitians dress very nicely even if their outfits aren't expensive. You should see how they get dressed up for church or a party. During the two weeks leading up to my stay in Miami, my housemates (Lucas and Alicia Simmons, Kaitlyn, Matt, and I) joked about what I would do while I was there. How many showers would I take? How many lattes would I buy? What would I do with my time there? Here's the stats: one shower upon arrival, one upon departure (I thought about more, but I was too lazy to move from my king-sized hotel room bed!); one nonfat eggnog latte upon arrival and another upon departure; when I walked into my hotel room, I giggled in excitement and threw myself onto the bed, then burrowed under the covers to watch tv and read books for the duration of the afternoon. I dragged myself out of bed long enough to take a walk to buy Thai food then found myself once again cuddled up to watch a good episode of Dateline NBC. Anyone else love a good Dateline Mystery? I confess I was a total sluggard that afternoon.

When I found my mom in the airport (the Miami airport is massive) the next morning it was a lovely reunion after 6 months since I'd visited WA state. It was a delight to fly into Haiti with her- especially after having not flown into Haiti with anyone in at least 4 years. She was a good pillow too.

Each morning I tutor Junior, one of our older boys, for the GED which he'll be taking in a year or two. He has the opportunity to attend a bible college in CA. My mom played with Estaline and spent a few days helping a visiting occupational therapist to work with Estaline, while I tutored Junior. In the afternoons we ate lunch with the kids, attended the feeding program, and she assisted me at the medical clinic. This week seemed particularly eventful...even more than the usual for Haiti.

Monday:

Cindy planned a "quick" trip to Epidor (a sandwich/McDonald's type "fast-food" restaurant) for Joy, Brittany's mom, her friends Linda and Ashley, my mom and I. As we were attempting to pull away from the guesthouse, two of our girls, Katiana and Cherley, asked if we could take them to pick up the materials for their uniforms on our way back. They assured me they knew how to get there. Again, the words left and right were left out of the directions and a pointing finger was used. However, they got us there with only one missed turn. When we turned around, Cindy, driving the truck, was nervous that we wouldn't make it up the steep hill in the manual transmission truck. With lots of prayer and maybe a bit of fear on my mom's part, we were able to make the hill and the turn. This was my mom's first good look at the traffic and crazy driving of Haiti.

Tuesday:

After a normal, run-of-the-mill medical clinic where my mom helped me, I went out for a nice, leisurely run with Kaitlyn and some of our visitors for the week. Less than a block away from the boys' home Lucas and Matt drove by us and let me know that Emilien, one of our graduating boys, had been trapped under fallen wood while they had been at the lumber yard. He felt light-headed and had pain in his hips, but his vitals were normal and stable, he was not having nausea, he was able to walk, he had no abdominal or chest pain, and didn't believe the wood had fallen on his head. More of the story was revealed though once we were at the boys' home. Emilien had actually fallen out of the truck and then the wood had fallen on top of him. Although his exam seemed normal, it was difficult for his brother and the other boys to understand that since he was having pain and he had been in a scary accident. A visiting paramedic, Phil, and I eventually made the decision that I should take him to the hospital, mostly to reassure him and the boys that he was fine, aside from the pain. Lucas drove us, along with three other boys. I love seeing our kids step up to help their friends! At the first hospital, the doctor wasn't there (!) but he nurses said we could wait for a paramedic who would be coming in 30 minutes. I explained that a paramedic and I had already checked him out but we wanted him to see a doctor. The nurse gave him an injection of a drug called Diclofenac (like ibuprofen) for pain (drugs like morphine or oxycodon are rarely given here and difficult to find) and then we went on our way to another hospital (hoping they would have a doctor!). At the second hospital Emilien was quickly seen and prescribed oral diclofenac. Nothing more than what I would have given him, but at least he was reassured by a doctor that he was fine. The hilarious part of this experience was filling out the paperwork and paying for the visit and the medicine. While Emilien waited for the doctor, Willy B and I filled out paperwork: name, birthdate, problem, etc. The person who was supposed to help us with this, though, was not at her desk near the doctor's office. We walked across the hospital to find her. When we found her, she told us to go back where we were and she'd meet us there. Then, to buy the medication, we needed to go across the hospital to find the pharmacy. We tried to pay for the medicine at the same place we'd gone to originally to fill out his paperwork, which was near the pharmacy, but there was no one manning that desk. Again, go back across the hospital to pay for the medicine. Cross it again to actually pick it up at the pharmacy. Willy was like "this is so stupid" which it definitely was, but I've had to do stuff like this many times at hospitals in Haiti.

Emilien is doing well now and not complaining of pain. My mom stayed back that night with our other guests and staff, wondering if we ever have a normal, planned day in Haiti. The answer is no.

More to come about the other days my Mom was here.

Mud

2010-11-09T18:59:00.000-08:00

We often find children standing outside our gate, hoping for food, sandals, or a band-aid. Last week Alicia found a young girl seeking help for her mom. A few weeks ago, when we had our board member doctor visiting, Dr. Eddie, I'd gone with him to visit this same woman. She was unable to walk for some unknown reason and had difficulty speaking. Dr. Eddie suspected botulism poisoning due to her symptoms, but without being able to do tests, we weren't able to help her very much. We did give her money to go to a hospital and a couple of friends or family members promised to take her. Since then I'd seen her daughters multiple times at our feeding program and they'd said she was better (although I don't know what her diagnosis was).

I recruited Erta to translate and Matt, who is working with our transition program for a few months, to drive to her home, which is a tent not too far from us. Normally we'd have walked, but we've been on a hurricane watch (more on that later), it was raining, and it was getting later in the day. I also anticipated that we might need to drive her to a hospital. We also brought along Dana, a nurse visiting us for the week, and an elderly neighbor of the woman. Upon arriving at her home we found the woman laying on a piece of wood covered by a rug which served as her bed. She shared that 10 days ago she'd had an operation to remove an ovarian cyst by a "blan" at a church. Instead of doing it laparoscopically (with a small abdominal incision using a video camera) it had been done vaginally. She described it like they'd ripped the cyst out of her. Reminds me of hack-job abortions. The day before she'd started bleeding vaginally and experiencing extreme pain. Her respiratory rate was 60, where normal is 12-20. Matt and her family helped her hobble to the truck and we took off, looking for a hospital where this woman (Tascha) had previously received care for another condition. What we didn't realize was what getting to this hospital would take.

The person directing us to the hospital doesn't exactly know the difference between their left and right. So, she pointed each direction with her finger at the exact time we had passed where she wanted us to go. Finally it was decided that I would verbalize the pointing finger's direction in the hopes that Matt would make the correct turn in time. The side roads were muddy from the light rain falling all afternoon. We pulled up to a densely populated tent city but couldn't drive far in due to our tires getting stuck in the mud. We decided to climb up to the hospital. After walking about a foot, we realized that we should check to make sure this hospital was actually open as some people standing outside their tents claimed it was closed and others, of course, claimed it was open. Erta and I began the hike, with the elderly woman, Mari, sometimes trailing behind and other times passing us by, as well as her fourteen year old son. Matt and Dana waited at the bottom with Tascha. We walked through the sticky mud that clung to my tennis shoes and created a second sole underneath Erta's sandals. The hill was lined with tents and sandbags that were used as stairs. At one point we looked back to find Matt, along with two Haitian men (unknown to us) carrying Tascha. These men were strong and motivated and whisked the woman away from Matt. Meanwhile, Erta clung to Dana and I to not get stuck or to fall in the mud. At the top of the hill, we found a small hospital in the process of shutting down. A Haitian woman speaking English explained that the hospital was closing due to the pending Hurricane Tomas. She suggested we try another hospital downtown that treats women with gynecologic problems. The men swept up Tascha in their arms and preceded down the hill. Erta's feet were so caked in mud that it seemed better to just walk without them, as grandma did and made it down with no problems. As we walked, Erta and Dana questioned why a hospital would close during a hurricane. Aren't they necessary during a crisis? They would run now? To me, it seemed like a better idea to pack up and leave if they couldn't handle the disaster and the patient load. During the earthquake, sometimes I wished that someone would tell me to pack up and leave. I felt like a fraud.

Tascha directed us out of the tent cities and through downtown to get to the second hospital. All the while, Matt drove with his head out of the car because the windows had difficulty defrosting. Upon arrival at the hospital, Erta and I took the lady inside, where they had a wash station for washing hands at the entrance (Cholera precaution). She was only able to bring one person past the entrance with her, her son. She insisted that we head back as it was dark. We gave her some money and wished her well, promising to contact her daughter to find out news about her.

The next day I saw her daughter at the feeding program, where she said that her mom wasn't able to stay at the hospital that night. They'd sent her home because that hospital only saw pregnant women. When we'd dropped her off, Erta had told them her problem. Why didn't they explain that they only saw pregnant woman? The daughter said her mom was going to try another hospital. Yesterday I saw her daughter again and she said her mom was feeling better after being seen at the first hospital we had traveled to that night. Sometimes it takes a story like this to get the medical care you need here.

Hurricane update: After much talk about Hurricane Tomas blowing through Haiti and preparing here at MdL as much as possible for its arrival, all we received was a little rain over a few days. This shouldn't minimize the fact that people in tents and inadequate housing are suffering much in this season. Out in the countryside, in cities like Jeremie, Gonaives, and Jacmel homes were flooded and a handful of people died. Please continue to pray for Haiti and its people. Pray that they will drawer nearer to God in the midst of their suffering and that God would provide for their needs.

Pale vous Frances?

2010-10-27T19:59:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago our kids started school for the fall. This year the MdL school is being taught completely in French. This is a change as for the last two years the MdL school has been in English. Our older children had been going to Haitian school, which is in French, before the earthquake, but since then they'd all been attending MdL school in English. Some of our older children are going to two different nearby schools and the rest of our children go to the MdL school. Here's a peak at what the kids look like after they've had a long day....looking better than I do, for sure, after a long day!

Katrina

MarcKendy

Jennifer (Fritz's niece), Youdelka, and Cendy

Oline not wanting to show her face

Ruby, Fritz's niece. I could just eat her up!

Daphne, another one I can't get enough of

Saturday

2010-10-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Kaitlyn and I tackled a beautiful hike with Rod and Brittany and our new friends (since yesterday), Tiff, Jamie, and Katie, who teach at Quisqueya Christian School with Rod. We drove up to Kenscoff, which is about a 45 minutes up-hill from where we live, then parked the car to walk to Le Montecel, where camp was held for Maison de Lumiere this past June. The trail was surrounded by greenery and wildlife on every side. Adults and children alike were fascinated to see Rod and Brittany pushing a stroller with a white baby. Along the way, a family driving by us stopped their car to talk to Rod. They found out that Rod works at QCS, where a relative is a board member. They generously offered us to have lunch at their home, where they served meat and cheese croissants, apple pastries, and avocado sandwiches. We left wondering why they were so prepared to host seven other people? I LOVE Haitian hospitality! Something for me to strive to be like.

One child in front of her house ran inside to grab her friends when she saw Asher. They ran after him squealing, "Nou bezwen we babe blan! (I need to see the white baby!)"

On the way back many comments were made to Rod and Britt about Asher's legs bouncing around in his stroller and that he was getting too cold. Eventually, when an older man protested a bit too much, they gave in and covered him up even though he was already asleep and content. When a white person has a baby (black or white) with him or her it typically invites Haitians to give comments about how the baby is being taken care of, as in the money fiasco I created with Estaline.

The family we ate lunch with met us along the road again as we walked back. We were getting tired and had commitments to get back to in town, so we piled Asher (inside his stroller- don't judge please) into the back of the truck and we all held on to the stroller as we slowly made our way down the hill. When it comes to fitting people inside a truck here in Haiti, any number of people seems to work.

Black Shoes

2010-10-05T19:56:00.000-07:00

Today we had our normal Tuesday morning staff meeting, where we learned from our new principal that all the children attending the MdL school (our kids in grades K-6, many of the children of our staff, and some children in our neighborhood) need black shoes. Here in Haiti black shoes that are typically worn to school cost around 800 Haitian dollars, which equals about $100 US. Um, hello? Am I not currently living in the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere? A typical Haitian salary is less than $1 US per day. How does a Haitian pay for shoes for their child to go to school? Not only are special shoes required for all Haitian schools, they need to pay for tuition, books, school supplies, uniforms (pants or skirts and shirts), sometimes lunch (other times they are given a daily lunch that is included in their tuition), ribbons for the girls' hair, and I'm sure other items that I have forgotten to include. This explains why so many children don't go to school and adults are unable to read. Yet, how do so many children go to school with the cost so high? Sponsors, for one. Each child in our orphanage has sponsors from the states or Canada who donate a monthly amount to Child Hope, which pays for school-related costs, food, clothes, and medical care, among other things, for our children. Many of the children in our neighborhood who will be going to our school or others have sponsors as well who are giving just for school. In addition, hundreds of other organizations, such as Compassion International, pair up donors with children to send them to school. A huge Thank You to those who sponsor our children, those in our neighborhood, and through other organizations. You are making the difference between a child spending their days on the streets or sitting in a classroom, surrounded by books and learning and receiving a hot meal.

Someone asked what would happen if the kids in our school didn't wear black shoes. MdL is hoping to get this school accredited this year so someone who does the accrediting can pop by the school without warning multiple times a week to check on it. If they see that our kids don't match or look sloppy, it may take longer to get accredited.

This discussion about shoes and their prices started to seem ridiculous and I'm afraid I started to judge the Haitian culture as well. Why the emphasis on appearance when jobs are minimal and people aren't eating here? But aren't we (I), as Americans, just the same way? There are millions of homeless people in America as well. We love our fashion and we all want to look cute and shiny on our first day of school and every other day as well. We'll go into huge debt to buy clothes, cars, jewelry, and electronics. We are the same everywhere. We want to look good!

Because we want our kids to go to school (and most days they want to also), if you know of a place that will donate black dress or tennis shoes, please contact me. In the meantime, our kids will start at the MdL school this coming Monday, wearing whatever kind of shoe they have, hopefully being happy and thankful God has given them the opportunity to put on their backpack and learn French. May I remember to also be thankful for my clothing and my education that the Lord has been gracious to provide.

2010-09-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon I was hanging out at the boys home when Daniel sat down and told Cindy and I that he had just seen a goat have a baby. Actually, he got his words confused and said that he saw "two goats having a baby." It took a few hilarious minutes, but we finally figured out that he had seen two goats being born. Daniel asked to go show us where the goats were, near the clinic, so Cindy and I took a group of the younger boys to go check them out, stopping along the way to get Kaitlyn and my camera.

Mama goat and Baby goat

We were oohing and awing over the cute little goats in the bushes when we began to feel a few rain drops. Then quickly the sky turned dark and a swift wind blew over the neighborhood. We started running to get under shelter (I'm not scared of a little rain, but I didn't want my camera to get wet). I got inside the guest house gate, then peaked through its opening. A stream of parents and children who'd been waiting to enter our feeding program were running and screaming down the street in the drenching rain. When it rains during the feeding program usually we'll do a shorter version- feed the kids, but not have sports, coloring time, worship or a sermon. Today the people knew this rain was different. Erta was taking cover with me and said that people were thinking we were having another earthquake. It may sound ridiculous as an earthquake doesn't usually have massive winds and rain with it, but there is pervasive fear here about earthquakes and unusual weather. Also, many people's homes are tents right now....enough said. I put my camera away, grabbed my hooded jacket, and ran over with Kaitlyn to check on the girls. But not before seeing our big truck parked at the guesthouse with a tree branch lying on top of it.

**all further pictures are Kaitlyn's

The girls were all huddled together underneath the front awning of their house. My suggestions to go inside the house were ignored. Hey, a hurricane is coming, so let's stand outside! A few kids from the feeding program as well as our laundresses and cooks and their children took shelter there as well. Haitians love to sing, so to ease the distress and calm the situation, I suggested to Mari, a cook, that she begin to sing. Many of the children and adults were fervently praying as well. We watched as the storm thrashed around us and held the kids tightly when they screamed during the thunder. To lighten the mood (maybe I am inappropriate during a serious situation, but that's probably my coping mechanism) I began to briefly sing "raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens." As Daphne hid against my chest, I couldn't help thinking of The Sound of Music, my favorite movie, and the scene where the kids hide with Maria during the storm. A couple girls laughed as they remembered watching the movie. A brother came to get his four siblings at the girls home, walking through the door shirtless and shoeless, in boxers.

The girls home huddle

Boxer shorts boy with his siblings

Earlier in the day Susette had shared with the kids and I that a team from the states would be coming to spend the afternoon at the feeding program, leading worship and skits. This group is African American and the kids love them. During the storm a couple girls had asked if I thought the team would still come. As the rain and win finally let up, some girls peaked out the door and came running back, shouting, "The American Blacks are here!" Erta, Susette, and others rounded up the feeding program kids from outside, the girls home, and the near by tent cities (which I've heard was pretty much destroyed within minutes). We congregated inside the boys home and the "American blacks" performed skits, shared the bible, danced, sang, and worshiped with the feeding program kids and our kids. It was a beautiful blessing to all the kids and a welcome respite from the fear.

While we were involved in the activities at the boys' home, a team visiting from CA was down in a tent city, repairing some homes (tents). Kaitlyn took an awesome picture of one of the men they were helping, a father of one of our feeding program kids, walking down the street with a machete, taking branches and wood to repair his family's tent.

Machete Man

At the end of the "American Blacks'" time with the kids, we prayed together for the kids then the parents came to pick up their children. What did these families experience last night, in the cold and in the mud? Please keep the people of Haiti in your prayers, as they wait for the money that was raised to be given out to rebuild Haiti and homes.

Here's an article- Haitians Cry in Letters: ‘Please — Do Something!’-

describing the situation in Haiti right now.

Difficult, Mysterious, and Wonderful

2010-09-12T20:39:00.000-07:00

Haiti....

Difficult:

Rain. "Yes!" I sometimes think when it rains. Its cooling off, I can just go outside to shower, and it reminds me of being in Seattle and makes me want to settle down with a good book, put on sweats, and drink coffee. The flip side: thousands of people are living in tents since the earthquake. A tent does not have a wooden or metal door. A tent does not have windows. A tent lets in rain, mosquitos, mud, and disease. Brooke, it is not about you. A tent means that kids and adults are sicker, sleep less, and are preyed upon by rapists and thieves. Add rain to that and now you know (or maybe Haiti has fallen off your raider and you don't know. I pray that if so, maybe this blog or others will get it back on there.) why there is so much talk about getting housing for Haitians.

Pregnancy. I often have women come into my clinic asking to take pregnancy tests. A couple of months ago when there were two nurses visiting and helping, a 20 year old girl came in asking to take a pregnancy test. She seemed very sweet and innocent...and beautiful. Her test was positive. Other times, when I've had women test positive and I ask them how they feel about being pregnat, a few have said, "I feel nothing." This young lady's emotion was written all over her face. Tears sprung to her eyes. We prayed for her, I gave her some vitamins and instructions about going to another hospital for a more thorough exam and teaching, and then the three of us nurses sat there, quietly looking at each other with tears also in our eyes. On Tuesday of this week she came back. She'd recently had her period and wanted to do another pregnancy test. Before I handed it to her, she told me that when she told her parents that she'd had her period after already telling them she was pregnant, they told her they thought she'd taken a medicine to abort the baby. She swore to me she hadn't and I believe her. She took the test and it showed she was no longer pregnant... if she really was before. I explained that the first test could have been a false positive, told her to get checked out again by another doctor, then prayed for her. What hopes did she have for this baby and for all the newness it would bring in the midst of fear and uncertainty? She seemed upset again, but maybe she was actually relieved. Does she have money to visit a doctor? I pray so...now I wonder if I should have offered her some.

Why do I do this work here? Because Jesus has given me a love and compassion for the Haitian people that I never thought possible. As I learn every day here, its not about me. Its about glorifying Him, the one who gave His life for us and loves the Haitians and knows their pain more than I ever could.

Mysterious:

Poop. I recently had a conversation with an Haitian friend who started taking vitamins as he wasn't eating very healthy. His complaint about the vitamins? They make him poop everyday. "Well, how often did you poop before taking the vitamins," I asked. "Once a week," was the response. What The....? So the subject of poop came up once again in conversation with another Haitian friend. She was prescribed two antibiotics and if you are a doctor, nurse, or unlucky patient, you know taking two antibiotics at once can hurt the crap out of you! Her complaint: I'm pooping twice a day! Curiosity got the best of me and I asked, "How often did you poop before?" "Once a week. Sometimes once or twice a month." Are you freaking kidding me? Wouldn't one get a distended stomach with all that poop being kept inside? All this talk about poop transitioned into Cindy and I talking about Dr. Oz. You know the doctor who likes to wear his scrubs all the time on the Oprah show? I love the episode where he showed the intestines and described what normal, healthy poop looks like. Tonight I asked a group of our boys and a group of our girls how often they poop. Again, some said only once a week, others every three days. There was no embarrassment on anyone's part- just laughter. The girls said very few of them pooped the week they went to the Provence (countryside) to see their families because they facilities for doing so were less than stellar. I'm starting to wonder if what people call diarrhea is really that. Maybe its just that they are pooping more frequently than their normal? Let's get some more vegetables in the Haitian population!

To be continued.....

Futbol

2010-09-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

....or soccer. Yesterday the whole orphanage and many of its staff attended a futbol/soccer game by the Haitian Amputee Soccer Team, which was created after the earthquake. When I heard about it, I began to get all weepy. What hope this must give these people who have suffered so much in the last year. Each team member played without his prosthetic and ran around using crutches. I was inspired and I hope you will be too by just the pictures.

"When I lost my limbs in the earthquake I thought my life was over. But God helped me and now that I am playing soccer and working with great coaches, I have much hope for the future." - Cesar, Goalie.

The team has been invited to play in the 2010 Paralympic World Cup in Argentina this October. They need to raise $50,000 in order to participate. Go to www.iisport.org in order to find out more about it or to donate.

After the amputee team played, the older boys at our orphanage played Quisceya Christian school, a school for missionary kids and the bourgeois (elite, wealthier class). All of our kids and staff are excited when the boys or girls have the opportunity to play and have some real competition. Haitians are fantastic soccer players. Our boys won, 5-2!

Mdl boys

Semi

I'm still learning...

2010-09-09T06:38:00.000-07:00

In many ways, life and people in Haiti are similar to life and people in America. However, I daily learn that in no way have I completely learned or understood Haitian people and its culture. Case in point:

Money: Last week I had another doctor visit with Estaline. While waiting for about five hours for her to be seen by a pediatrician, I gave her a five goude (Haitian coin) to play with. I know, give a small child money? Please hold your judgement. I had no other toy to give her and I watched her like a hawk. At no point did she try to put it in her mouth. If she'd tried even once, I was going to take it away. To her, it was just a toy and I think she knew it was not food. This girl knows her food! I'd throw the coin on the ground- ALL Haitian children I know play on the ground (maybe the bougouis children don't?) and she'd hold onto the chair or me with one hand and bend down to pick it up. If I threw it farther than her ability to reach it, she'd sit down and reach for it. She'd clasp it in her hand and smile up at me proudly and I'd clap for her. For Estaline, this is nothing short of a miracle. This was therapy for her, but she was completely clueless and actually delighted in the activity, which she rarely does when moving. As we were playing, I heard some mumbling and grumbling coming from the lady sitting next to me who works at the clinic, something to do with money. I continued with our play. Suddenly, the lady reached out and snatched the coin from Estaline's hand. I looked at her, probably with anger, and said in Creole, "Why did you do that? She wasn't bothering you." She proceeded to tell me that I shouldn't let a child play with a coin. I explained that she wasn't putting it in her mouth, she was exercising her legs and trunk which she really needs to do, and asked her "Are you her mother?" Somehow, it was like my Creole self took over and I was able to express all my anger and frustration that I would certainly have not been able to do in English. The woman responded that she has her own kids. Another woman nearby entered the conversation to say that Estaline could put her dirty hands in her mouth. I explained that she hadn't tried once and I showed her the bottle of Purell that I had packed in my purse. I asked the first woman not to pay attention to Estaline and looked away from her and gave the coin back to Estaline and she played happily once again. Willy B, along for the fun of a doctor's appointment, explained that Haitians don't let children play with money. Did I disrespect the Haitian culture? Maybe. Not intentionally, though. I just wanted Estaline to work, for once with joy. Maybe I disrespected American culture too or all mothers.

Driving: About a month ago I went on a visit to see if I could help Fritz's ill sister. I had asked Fritz if I could practice driving in Haiti on the way to his sister's house. Generous guy that he is (and trusting), he readily agreed. Fritz has the only automatic car in our ministry, and I am not proficient at driving a manual (next skill to learn, as many of our boys are learning and I feel some healthy competition against them), so his car is my only option to drive here so far. Well, that afternoon, he pulled up in his car with his brother, two nieces, daughter, and then myself and two nurses jumped in as well. Uh, drive for the first time with seven gawking passengers? No, I drove from the boys home to around the corner and stopped at a church. Yes, they laughed at me, but whatever. Last Thursday I was talking to Marlval about whether he thought Fritz would let me use his car to take a few kids to get blood work at a nearby hospital and if he could drive us. Marlval said I should just drive us in Fritz's car. "You have to do it sometime, so just do it tomorrow." Everyone (at least the adults) seemed to trust me enough to drive the car, so off we went the next am. Erta was in the passenger seat, with Katrina, Christella, Oline, and Chedline in the back. The whole way to the hospital, Katrina repeatedly said, "I didn't know you could drive!" The difficult part for me wasn't navigating through the crazy drivers, but making sure I didn't fly over a pothole. In Haiti, many people drive all over the road instead of in a lane, there are very few stop lights, and people may step out in front of you at any time. Who cares, as it was exhilarating to experience such freedom! After our hospital visit I returned back home, too afraid to make the market run I needed done, as its a bit farther than the hospital. Two fun visitors, John and Michelle, and my lovely new roommate, Kaitlyn, were excited to ride in the car with me, so they, along with Markenson and Erta, drove off later to the market with me, after some encouragement from our cook, Jinette, to do it. Everyone was very encouraging and clapped for me when we arrived home. Today, I made the hospital and market run again in Fritz's car. Poor guy...I'll try not to borrow it too too much. Reimbursed gas is a plus for him though, right?

Important items I've forgotten to post

2010-08-25T20:12:00.000-07:00

1. Two friends of mine, and former nurse co-workers of mine at Children's Hospital in Seattle, Lexie and Paula, paid me a visit in Haiti for 10 days in July. Together we re-organized the medical clinics, consulted with patients (or as I like to say, played doctor (we have no real doctor staffing our medical clinic right now)), spent quality time in the pool with an ungrateful Estaline, and performed blood tests for a number of our children. Our children think that poking them is enjoyable for us nurses. Yes, this is a grand scheme to torture them, not to protect them from numerous potentially lethal diseases. The best poke and story of the day was on a teenage boy of 16 years. He has a history of running from needles, so I was prepared. I dragged him from his classroom, assisted by other boys who administered some peer pressure. Once he entered the clinic, the excuses began. Finally, he said I could have his phone in exchange for not . I took it. I'm no dummy. I could use another phone...or I could sell it. But, he wanted money for it. Wait, I had the phone in my hands. Why would I need to pay him for it now? Lexie, Paula, and I walked out of the clinic with this young man trailing behind. "Brooke, come on, give me back my phone!" "Why? You wouldn't do the blood tests and gave me my phone in exchange." After this exchange occurred a few times, he knew he'd been beaten and agreed to get the blood work done in exchange for the return of his phone. I couldn't help rubbing it in a bit, though: "That was really stupid to give me your phone!" "Yeah," he said, "What was I thinking?"

Lexie and Paula connected very quickly with the kids. They found humor in their idiosyncrasies and the ways they tease people. I love sharing my kids with my friends, so thank you for loving them too and for supporting me, ladies!

2. During the second week that Lexie and Paula were here, my church team arrived. Melyssa, my traveling buddy from last year and good friend made her third trip to Haiti, along with my pastor and five other newbies to Haiti. They were work horses! The ladies cleaned out our donation closet and depot, as well as spent quality time with the kids and helping at the feeding program. Fred, Mike, Jerry, and their team built houses for some of the MdL staff whose homes were destroyed or broken in the quake, as well as painted and worked on various other construction projects. Jerry, my pastor, also spent intentional time getting to know some of the staff members and encouraging me. Thanks, friends for investing time in the kids, myself, the staff, and for your enormous contribution to building stuff and fixing things!

3. A weeks ago another team from WA state spent a week with us. Two nurses, Julia and Kathy, joined up with me to check on Fritz's sister. His sister, Natascha, suffered a stroke about 4 months ago. Doctors predicted she would die. After being discharged from the hospital in July, he rented a house for her and most of his brothers and sisters to live in (they were already displaced after the earthquake). He hired a physical therapist to come to the house. She did not return after her first visit as she requested a high price for the therapy. Fritz and his wife, Magolie, have taken in and cared for Natascha's two young girls, Ruby (3 years) and Jennifer (7 years). When Julia, Kathy, and I, as well as Fritz, made the visit to Natascha, we brought along Ruby and Jennifer. Usually I can keep my emotions in check when caring for patients. Not that I don't care or am unfriendly, but I don't typically get weepy. Natascha's girls walked into her room and Natascha immediately began to weep. I was pleased to see that she recognized her girls, and she was also able to move one hand and a foot on command. Her muscles are severely atrophied and if her extremities aren't exercised, she will develop contractures. Julia, Kathy, and I showed the family some exercises to do with and for Natascha. Before leaving, we prayed for Natascha. Jennifer and Ruby kissed her goodbye as they all cried deeply. That's when myself, the other nurses, and Fritz all became weepy as well. Seeing the sadness of Natascha and the girls broke us. How long until these three can be reunited? Seeing how Fritz takes care of his family was beautiful.

For Lisa Hojara's birthday (as well as Chef Ron Duprat's birthday. You may know him from the show "Top Chef." He is Haitian and has recently become good friends with Lisa after meeting each other at another Haiti fundraiser.) she created a fundraiser to raise money for Natascha's medical care. Click here to check out the fundraiser and to donate. Click here to see a picture of Fritz's nieces. I couldn't get the actual picture to post here on the blog.

2010-08-06T18:45:00.000-07:00

Although Estaline has difficulty walking and her language skills are somewhat delayed, it is apparent that she is learning and processing her environment and she can speak aloud or whisper a few words. She enjoys commanding others to do anything she chooses. As Navy, a nanny at the girls' home, chased Renise around the girls home with a ruler, pretending to spank her, Estaline called out "Ba li!" over and over again, meaning "give her!" Navy would often check and make sure that Estaline wanted that and Estaline would call out even louder "Ba li!" Then the command was followed by Estaline busting up in laughter. When it became Estaline's turn to receive the spanking though, she began to whimper.

I've tried to find a way for Daphne to help me do PT with Estaline, since she doesn't have school right now but all the other kids do. Often Estaline just gets ticked off at Daphne for being involved, but we did have one successful session last week. I put Estaline on my fitness ball to get her used to the move bvment and to work her abs. She hates it. Erta walked by and suggested we put Daphne on it with her. Below are the results of that experiment.

Today at church I sat with Cendy, Daphne, and Katrina, who are always very chatty, especially when its not the appropriate time. Daphne asked for water and Katrina (8 years old) leaned over, shaking her head at Daphne and said: "She is like a camel!" The fact that Daphne was so chatty today was made more humorous by the fact that yesterday, while she was doing my hair, she told me to "turn your head. You talk too much!" She, in fact, was the one blabbering on to Cendy! I pulled Cendy and Daphne out of church because people around us were starting to give us looks. When we got outside, I separated them and told them to be quiet. Cendy began to sing to the tune of the worship song, " Blessed Be Your Name," which was being played inside the church, "I am not Brooke's friend, I am not her friend." Her ever-present copycat, Daphne, quickly joined in the singing.

Update to my last post: I believe I was locked in the medical room at the boys’ home every single day last week. When I took the lock and key inside the room with me, some smart ones found a bar of some sort to place in the latch to keep me inside. Love you boys! I'm sure Cendy and Daphne would have loved to get in on these pranks with you.

Memorable Moments of the week

2010-07-24T14:20:00.000-07:00

1. I took Estaline to a “handicapped” hospital in the hopes of receiving some professional advice about what is preventing her from walking. On the second visit (just because This is Haiti and of course it would take more than one try to get in to see the doctor), the pediatrician we saw felt a mass on the left side of her abdomen. I panic, because mass can mean a long list of things. We waited for a few hours after that to pay for and create a dossier (with her birthdate, family information, and name of responsible person) and receive an appointment date to meet with the orthopedist. I was given the date of August 11th. Like any pushy nurse, I told the receptionist that Estaline has a suspected mass in her stomach- couldn’t we receive an earlier appointment? She briefly stared at me, checked her book again, then gave me a date for next Wednesday. Pushiness wins out!

We did manage to make it to the facility for her to get a sonogram of her abdomen. We left for the first hospital at six-thirty am and arrived at the sonogram place at 1:30pm. Estaline began whining and crying around 11am. I brought granola bars and crackers and water wish she happily devoured (if you know Estaline, you know she loves food). I asked Erta’s dad, Antonio, our driver, multiple times to buy her food from the street, but only crackers because most of the food is really greasy and unhealthy. I’m pretty sure what she needed was to sleep. But that was not to be so that day. Each time I gave her food, she began to cry as soon as it was finished. I even made a deal with her (yes, I know she is only two. Who cares?) that she wouldn’t cry when the next package of crackers was finished. She agreed. But she reniged on the deal. I paced with her back in forth around the waiting area. What I’ve learned in Haiti is what you might think is only your business is often everyone else’s business as well. Multiple people tried to tell me what I should do to get her to stop crying. Yah, I know she was being annoying, but its not like I was just sitting there and ignoring her. So, at the sonogram facility (which was the third building we drove to, by the way), Antonio once again bought crackers for Estaline, and for me as well. And, she cried, again. Suddenly, both Antoniono and I noticed that the air began to smell foul. Or, was it Estaline’s rear end? I attempted to change her in the co-ed bathroom, but there was no changing table. WHAT? So, I found the least-occupied section of the waiting area, planted Estaline on a chair, and got to it. The three people in the chairs across from us all staired. “Escuse, Escuse,” I apologized. Estaline was none-too-happy, so she twisted and kicked her legs while screaming. So as I’m trying to wipe her bottom, the poop goes all over the chair, my hand, and her foot lands in it, which then lands on my shirt. And, the people are still watching me. And I’m beginning to sweat more than usual. I eventually get the clean diaper on her and walk outside with her. I turn the corner and give her a small spanking. Then I look over my should around and see a man standing there, watching me. And, to make this even more special for us, I turn completely around and see that a tent city is directly across the street from us. Just how many people watched the white lady spank the black baby? Should I feel weird about this?

Speaking of abuse, I’ve taken Estaline into a kiddy pool that one of our former teachers brought. She hates it. Like when she walks with her walker, she screams “lageme” (leave me) or “gade” (look). But she’s added another word to her vocabulary: “abby!” According to Erta, it means abuse. I’m very thankful she didn’t decide to use this word at the hospital or in the sonogram waiting room.

The sonogram showed nothing abnormal in her abdomen and the radiologist who performed it felt nothing as well. He suggested that it may have been a collection of stool that the other doctor felt. Yes, I saw that stool. In fact, I left with it on my shirt.

2. I’m staying at the boys home sometimes now to help out with the little boys while Cindy is back in the states for a few weeks. Schneider, one of the older boys, has been helping out Cindy for the last couple of months. Right now, he is in charge while Cindy is gone. He is so gentle but firm that the boys really listen to him and respect him. I, on the other hand, am such a dufus that I got myself locked in the medical room there the other night. Jocelyn, one of the boys who went to the states for school in December, started a trend of locking people in rooms. The best part is that he (or the alternate offender) makes you say “Please, Daddy, let me out!” I’ve been locked in the depot at the guesthouse (a disgusting, scary place to be locked in) once and in the medical clinic, each time by Marlval. I got him back about a month ago by locking him in the guesthouse depot. Usually he takes the lock off the door if he goes in there to prevent this from happening (we’re a suspicious bunch), but he was slacking this time. I’m sorry but I had to gloat and showed my friend Carmina who was visiting. I made him go through the steps of saying, “Mommy, please let me out!” So, last night Marcorel stepped inside the medical clinic at the boys’ home and what could I do but what was required of me? Willy B was in on it too. We walked around to the window and dangled the keys, saying, “Say please Mommy, let me out!” After a few tries, he finally got it right. Dumb dumb dumb…Willy B and I stepped in there again to give a boy ibuprofen and didn’t take the lock and key inside. There we were with Marcorel having all the control on the other side of the door. “Say, Papa, mwen renmen ou (I love you).” After some coercion on Marcorel’s part and a few failed attempts on our part at saying it the right way, we were released. This is just what we do at the boys’ home.

More pictures

2010-07-17T09:29:00.000-07:00

Feeding Program kids:

Ensise

Donaldson

Dupren

MdL boys:

Diene

Elisee

Lukenson, one of our three newest boys. He is very affectionate and everyone is in love with him!

Life in Pictures

2010-07-14T20:10:00.000-07:00

These children from a neighboring orphanage began attending our feeding program this week, as well as ate at our boys' home on the other days we don't have the feeding program. Since the earthquake they have been living in a parking lot and eating very little. Our ministry is looking into renting a home for them as well.

Jameson, one of my buddies from the feeding program

Watson, another friend who goes to the feeding program, likes to run with us and always asks when I can teach him English. Watson and Jameson are brothers. Aren't they terribly handsome?!

Estaline walking. Can you tell how much she likes it? ;)

Bits and Pieces

2010-06-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

I am so blessed and excited to have my friend Lisa here visiting and staying down the street, with Fritz and his family. Lisa and her husband, Ted, lived and worked with MdL for almost two years. We became good friends last year and I've been able to see them a few times where they now live in Florida, as well as on Lisa's frequent visits to Haiti. Spending time with Lisa always leads to adventure and certainly a lot of laughter at ourselves.

Soon after Ted and Lisa first moved here they began helping a teen mom, Sinese, by giving her a job and helping her with her education. She also worked at the guesthouse sometimes and cooked for the feeding program for a while. She became a member of the Hojara family and a good friend of mine as well. Yesterday Lisa and I walked with Sinese to see her house and family. It was about a fifteen minute walk where we saw many crumbled homes and tent cities. Along the way, a guy called out to Sinese, "Can you get me one of those white people?" Not creepy, just inquiring. We crested a hill and arrived to see a beautiful view of more homes, merchants, tap taps, and people. Suddenly we arrived at a tent city. Sinese pointed to one, indicating it was hers. Lisa and I'd forgotten that Sinese was still living in a tent since the earthquake. Seeing that your own friend lives here and is taking care of her three year old daughter, as well as three sisters, all on her own, is very distressing. What might these children be seeing or experiencing while Sinese is gone working during the day? Are they out of harm's way? How hot does it get at night sleeping in a tent? Is the area safe for girls and women? Thankfully, Sinese says that her tent neighbours are all friendly and keep quiet at night. As for the rest, we don't know. We walked a short ways and came upon Sinese's daughter, Jersey, and Sinese's three sisters, Modlin, Modlen, and Finese. Sounds like they are two sets of twins, right? Wrong. We drank some water together, checked out Sinese's intact house that she informed us she was ready to move back into, and chatted with the girls for a bit. Walking back down, we bought hot dogs on the street with some SERIOUS hot sauce and mayonnaise slathered on it, mangos, and more water. Again, "Where can I find me some white people like those?" was asked of Sinese.

Today, Lisa came back from the girls' home with her hair all slicked back in a ponytail. At first I thought nothing of it, but then she explained how much "pomade" (like vaseline) they'd put in it. The closer I looked, the more I continued to laugh. Why don't they like volume in our hair? Why do they like to put braids in my hair even thought it makes me look like a freak, like some Haitian or African wannabe? The girls look gorgeous and amazing, but I, on the other hand.... I love having my hair brushed, but I refuse to let the girls put braids in my hair. As Lisa was walking to the boys home, she passed the Manasseros' son, Kenny. She called down the street to me, "Ask Kenny what he just said." Kenny said, "I said she looks so beautiful!" What is it with the greasy haired look? So when I went over to the girls home this afternoon, I commented on Lisa's hair: "It's so beautiful!" "Isn't it?" they said. Chabine picked up a comb and said she was going to make my hair straight. Translation, in my head: Frizzy and ugly. But hey, at least I'd get my hair brushed.

Also today, a couple of visitors gave our kids more vaccines and Ashley and I helped with the hand holding and chasing down of kids. A pediatrician from the states brought them in but we purposely didn't tell our kids until we arrived with them at the boys' home today. We knew they would be mad. And they were. "All the time you want to give me shots!" "I don't need them, I'm not sick." They eventually all succumbed to our persuasive ways, but some were quite creative in avoiding us. I walked down to the girls home and looked in one bedroom to find Isguerda hiding between two beds. Denite was pretending to cry on another bed. Both girls had put bandaids on their arms and said they'd already had their shots. Soon Adeline popped out of the closet with a bandaid also on her arm and said I wouldn't be taking her. A little more cajoling on my part, followed by whining on theirs, and they were marching off to the boys' home. Three more shots in the next couple of months and they should be done, unless Haiti receives a batch of different vaccines or visitors bring more.

PT

2010-05-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

Last week a sweet and fun team from Kansas stayed at the guest house to work with our ministry. One of the team members was a physical therapist and another, a massage therapist. We have joked (but I am completely serious here) that we would like to add a massage therapist to our list of permanent staff members. So, therapists, please apply here. The physical therapist worked with Estaline, our little just-turned two-year-old. She has low muscle tone and some developmental delays. She is quite smart but is physically behind in meeting many milestones. Kathy, the PT, created a list of exercises for me to do with Estaline. It has been delightful spending time with Estaline and making her work. The whole guesthouse can hear her as she cries out "gade"- meaning look in English - as she walks with a walker that one of our teachers and handymen, Matt, made.

We don't think she is in pain, but fearful of the exercises and just not used to working so hard. She had been like a queen, sitting on her throne and waiting for her loyal subjects (the girls, staff, and visitors who adore her) to give her her food and any other thing she may need. Here she is, working out:

Do you see the sweat on that brow?

Here comes the bride....

2010-05-21T07:38:00.000-07:00

There is a lady who works at the girls' home, Sylviana, who has two boys, Keso and Daniel, who live at the boys' home. Last Saturday Sylviana married her long time boyfriend and father of three of her children (Keso and a little brother and sister). I'm not sure what spurred on the desire to marry her beau at this time, but we were all excited for them and happy to attend their wedding.

Sylviana asked if I would take the pictures for the wedding. Navy, a nanny at the girls' home, was the couple's godmother (they have godmother's at Haitian weddings for the bride and groom, not just for a child being baptized). Cendy, one of our girls, was the flower girl, and Keso was the ring bearer. For days our girls were talking about the up-coming wedding. All morning Saturday the girls, Navy, and Sylviana prepared at the girls' home. Traditionally, Haitian weddings start late- hours late. Marlval drove the bride and the rest of the MdL group followed in two other cards. We all showed up about 1 1/2 hrs late. There was no walking down the aisle for the bridal party and bride. I'm not sure if this was because we were late or because the church was pretty small and didn't have a long walkway to dance down. Yes, you read right. Haitians typically dance down the aisle. I was sorely disappointed to not see this display. However, the wedding attendees were so enthusiastic in their merriment and singing of acapella Haitian worship, that I had the feeling I was a part of a musical, always my fondest desire. While another man led worship, the pastor slept in a chair near the bridal party. After the ceremony, we drove to Sylviana's and her husband's house, where we were served coke's and pate's (a popular Haitian food that is similar to a "Hot Pocket", but better). Sylviana, her husband, and their kids will be receiving a new pre-fabricated house, as their other house fell down during the quake. The "house" where the reception was held was made of tin and tarp and built right on top of the other house's rubble.

Every time I looked at Cendy or took her picture, she looked like she was being tortured. But she looked gorgeous and so cute!

Josie, the youngest son

the bride and groom and their youngest son

Keso

the kids are Orlphinka and Daniel, two more of Sylviana's children

No, he's not chewing on trash. He's drinking drinking water (water can be bought it plastic bags here)

Check out these tights on Cendy!

Four Months

2010-04-27T08:51:00.000-07:00

Where Are We at Now?

This is an update of post-quake Haiti and Child Hope/Maison de Lumiere that I sent to my church.

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The days and weeks following the January earthquake consisted of much turmoil, yet the grace of God was very evident. On February 12-14, one month since the earthquake, the nation of Haiti was called by the President to pray and fast. At 6 am each day the children, staff, and visitors of Maison de Lumiere met together in the "bens," the sports area attached to the boys' home. We sang in English and in Creole and prayed for the nation as a whole, those people close to the ministry who had lost their family, friends, and homes, and for the children and staff themselves, as well as the ministry of Child Hope. Outside our walls, we heard about people worshipping and praying in the streets and record numbers attending church.

The week after the fast CNN spent five days with our children, completing the filming of a documentary that had been started a few years ago. Food, tarps, tents, radios, and blankets have continued to be dropped off by various organizations, such as UNICEF, Feed my Starving Children, and the Army's 82nd Airborne. We are able to buy food at the markets for the children and ourselves, so we are giving away the donated beans, rice, and MRE's to our staff members, their families, and our community. We received our first team of visitors since the earthquake, Fighter Fighters for Christ, who built desks for our new MdL school, shelves to organize our supplies and food donations, and staffed our clinic for a few days. A few weeks later, a large team from CA arrived to oversee the construction of the walls around the girls' home and the back wall surrounding the guest house (where I live), and to staff a mobile medical clinic we held in the nearby ravine.

Many schools fell down during the earthquake and many teachers are dead or left Port au Prince for the country side. As a result, our children were out of school for more than six weeks. Bill Manassero'sbrother and sister-in-law arrived in late January. His brother, Tom, with his own handy-man business in the states, tackled our list of construction projects. Nancy, a nurse, began working at our twice weekly medical clinic, then took on the task of searching for teachers from the states. In an effort get our kids back into a daily schedule of learning, even though we did not have a full staff of teachers, we began holding school for all of the older children at the boys' home, with Nancy Manassero as principal. We have a few Haitian teachers teaching French and tutoring the boys in sixth grade and three kids in ninth grade in order to pass the required government exam. We've had two pastors staying for a month at a time each that have taught Bible, I teach health, and the other missionaries and many visitors have taught English, math, and various other subjects, all in English. However, we would like ESL teachers to come for at least one year to staff the school, starting this fall. We will have a summer program of studies for our kids that will need to be staffed as well. So far, the children say they are excited about their new school that is mostly taught in English and thankful to not be attending Haitian school, where lessons were based on memorization and strict physical punishment was often doled out.

After we moved the patients out of the front yard of the boys home a week after the earthquake, we also moved the clinic to a new house down the street from the orphanages and guesthouse. The bottom part of the house is the clinic and the upstairs are the classrooms for

the MdL school. We hold clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays for three hours each day. We are now seeing many of the same things we saw before the earthquake- coughs, colds, parasites, with a few cases of follow-up wound care thrown in and many complaints of diarrhea. Health care workers predict that cholera could become epidemic in Haiti due to lack of clean water and sanitation. For now, we are seeing mild cases of stomach issues that can be treated with re-hydration salts and antibiotics. Nancy Manassero and Ashley, as well as visiting doctors, nurses, and paramedics staff the clinic. I am working at the clinic just when time allows, as I am teaching health classes for the older children and taking care of the medical needs of our children and staff.

Please continue to lift up the people of Haiti in your prayers. Pray that rebuilding efforts increase and that the people can be moved out of their tents and tarps into housing to protect them from the rainy season. God has provided a principal for the school until June, but we will need one for the summer session, as well as a project manager to lead various construction projects as Nancy and Tom left Haiti a week ago. We also need teachers to staff our school for the spring, summer, and fall, and for a doctor to staff our clinic. Most of all, please pray for the hearts of the Haitian people to turn towards Jesus Christ, the one who gives us hope and our strength, and for the children of MdL to grow strong in faith and in godly character. Thank you for your continued support of Maison de Lumiere and the Haitian people.

Brooke

Madam Jocelyn Update

2010-04-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

Many of you may remember hearing about or you financially supported, an employee and woman in our neighborhood, named Madam Jocelyn. She has returned to Haiti after being in the Dominican Republic for four months for radiation treatment and more chemotherapy for Stage IIIB uterine cancer. As the cancer is not yet in remission, her doctor is recommending more chemotherapy followed by a special type of radiation called brachytherapy, which will both be conducted in the DR. There are no guarantees, but her doctor says that this continued treatment will be effective in eliminating the cancer in her body.

The total cost of the treatment is $3500, which includes room and board in the Dominican. It is urgent that we raise this money within the week so Madam Jocelyn can return to the Dominican for the treatment. The longer the time period between treatments, the greater the risk that the cancer will metastisize or be more difficult to treat.

Will you please join us in praying for the funds so desperately needed to help this dear woman continue her treatment? We know our God is great and can heal her. Please keep Madam Jocelyn and her family in your prayers. If you feel called to help with her medical expenses, you may donate online at our website - just make it clear that the funds are for Madam Jocelyn. Keep praying and may God bless you.

Israelis

2010-04-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

A three year old boy is brought to our hospital/clinic by his father, three or four days after the earthquake. How long did they walk to find us? What did this child, his father, and the rest of his family and neighborhood endure in the days before we saw them? The child, Clifford, has an open tib/fib fracture, meaning that his lower leg is broken with the skin open exposing bone, muscle, ligaments, and tendons... as well as miniscule pieces of rock, parts of the cement wall that fell on him. A medical student cleans out the wound with Betadine, peroxide, gauze, and tweezers to pull out debris, an excruciatingly painful process for Clifford without anesthesia. While other patients attempt to sleep on their cots, benches, and tables, floodlights are aimed in the direction of Clifford and his father. An IV is placed by a medical student to re-hydrate him and administer antibiotics. "Don't you see my suffering?!" Clifford shouts out in Creole. The doctors surrounding Clifford suddenly burst into laughter. They are not being cruel. It is just a surprise to hear these words coming from a three year old.

I make the rounds that night, handing out pain and sleep medication to those shifting and crying out on their cots and tables. Ashley sleeps for a few hours at the guest house. Clifford continuously runs a fever so his father and I gently try to coerce him to take liquid Tylenol. That definitely does not fly. So, years of working to get children to take medication (or forcing them to when they don't fall for it) serves me well and we hold him down to squirt it in his mouth. He glares at me with pure hatred. He's adorable. I lay for a few hours that night on a cot outside with the patients. Every time I look behind me, I see a man in black clothing sitting in the doorway to the inside of the boys' home. He is a new guard at the boys home. As I'm burrowing under a blanket I find out his name is Peter. I lay on my cot and start to laugh inside. This situation is extremely funny to me. I keep looking back at Peter and thinking, "Is this really my life?" I'm "sleeping" outside with a bunch of wounded and broken, yet extremely brave, people and a very intimidating looking man in the shadows, having survived an earthquake and a "tsunami." The MdL kids are a few feet away, hopefully snoozing peacefully in "the Bens." But I feel safe. And these people are my family now. We have survived together and endured together. As we have done everything to protect them, I know they and their family or friends with them will protect me. As will Peter.

A few hours later the guards walk Ashley and I between the boys' home and the guesthouse so we can change shifts. I lay on my bed, but again, sleep eludes me. Ashley loving tends to our patients by herself for the next few hours.

We make it through another day tending to the wounded. As it grows dark, the doctors announce they need to perform a more invasive cleaning of the wound- an I & D. Lidocaine is administered, the dressing is removed, and Ashley and I stand by to assist. I assume one of the few positions I had actually filled in the states and in Haiti before the earthquake and one I enjoy- comforting the patient (which also involves restraining him and preventing him from touching his leg). His dad stands with me and we whisper words of comfort, which seem very futile. "Don't you see my suffering?!" is shouted by little Clifford again. Laughter. "Bam ti diri! (give me a little rice!)" Laughter. The docs translate his pleas for relief. He's a smart little kid in a baby body. "Put a diaper on my $%##@!" The yelling continues. "#@%^%& you mommy!" Laughter allows us to deal with the absurdity of the situation. Clifford's dad even releases a few chuckles. The look of hatred is aimed in my direction once again.

After a night of administering IV fluids and antibiotics, Clifford continues to run a fever and his wound doesn't look good. Where can we take him for more treatment? According to Marlval, the roads are a mess and the hospitals that are still standing and functioning are over-crowded. He could lose his leg or his life if the infection in his leg does not improve or spreads into his bloodstream or organs. The day before, a group from a Canadian news channel showed up at our orphanage to interview and film the Manasseros. Susette finds their business card and puts in a call to them, hoping that they'll know someone who will know someone. A few hours later, a small team of medical professionals descends upon the boys' home. We fill them in on Clifford's status and we wish him and his father well. They quickly drive off with our patient and his father to an Israeli field hospital that opened up after the earthquake.

Before getting back to work, we stand around, marveling at how God was working in the details. As we fretted over this child, God showed up in a big way. Rather, he was always there and working... he just revealed himself and his work right then. Just as He had provided the supplies and medical personnel to care for our neighborhood in the minutes, hours, and days after the quake, He provided the Israeli hospital and its people to care for His child.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds forever in Christ Jesus."

Philipians 4:6-7

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging."

Psalm 46

I wish I could say that I was the picture of one trusting in the Lord in this situation and others after the earthquake. Sometimes, all I could see was my inadequacy. When I saw the Lord working as he worked in this situation, I was reminded to look up. To look up at Him, instead of at myself. When I focus on myself, I am disappointed and worry. When I focus on Him, I see His compassion and care for the poor, for the wounded, for the worrier.

Check out a video that features this child and many of ours at MdL here. Clifford is the first bandaged leg you see in the video.

The children share their thanks for helping with Haiti relief and helping Child Hope/Maison de Lumiere here.

I don't have any pictures of precious Clifford, so I thought I'd post some of my beautiful friend, Erta, along with cutie-pie Estaline.

Pictures

2010-03-16T19:43:00.001-07:00

Last week I went on a jog with our boys, Semi, Marcorel, and Emilien, as well as Ashley and a new teacher at our new school, John Michael. I was behind Semi when he stopped running briefly to buy a hot dog with some mustard at a roadside merchant. Then he started running again as he chowed on the dog. To add to the fun, Semi took John Michael and I through some alleyways so as to get ahead of Ashley and the other boys- or to shorten our run. Either way, to my humiliation, we were still behind Ashley and the boys.

Some more photos of our kids and others who are near and dear to my heart- completely unrelated to the running story. I just got a kick out of running with Semi. To know him is to love him!

Cendy

Christella. This lovely young girl moved into our girls' home right before Xmas. A friend of the ministry heard she was living in a less-than-ideal situation, after living on the streets, and asked if we could take her into our home. She has especially bonded with the younger group of girls, but is slowly making her way with the older ones, now that she is in school with them.

Nelson and Esther, kids who live across the street from me and attend our feeding program

Lulu. This child in our feeding program loves to "pound" my fist whenever I pass him in the street. He has the widest, whitest, beaming smile.

I think this may be Lulu again. Either way, I just really like this picture and this adorable kid.

Looking back

2010-03-15T16:59:00.000-07:00

For some of us working in the makeshift hospital located at our boys' home, myself and Ashley for sure, we often refer to "the week of the earthquake" rather than "the earthquake." Right or wrong, I feel numb to the 45 second, 7.0 earthquake. However, I have vivid memories of the day it occurred and the days following. Here are some memorable events. What I don't remember

are the dates they occurred.

Arm amputation: Our Haitian doctors, Dr. Paul (orthopedic surgeon), Dr. Andre (general practitioner), and the anesthesiologist (you were lovely and kind, but I always had difficulty saying and remembering your name), decided in the afternoon to amputate a man's arm. It had been severed by a block that fell on him above the elbow, but it needed to be amputated cleanly to avoid more blood loss and infection. Each of us rounded up the needed supplies, my favorites being the little saw borrowed from Dr. Paul's cousin's auto shop and the flat bike tire someone geniously procurred to use as a tourniquet. Susette ran off to the guesthouse to "sterilize it"- soaked it in betadine in a bucket in the bathtub. The anesthesiologist numbed the patient's (Arnst) arm (no general anesthesia or conscious sedation for our patients) and they got underway. I acted as runner for supplies and moved the floodlights nearer the patient when they called for it, Ashley acted as scrub nurse, Susette held the patient's other hand, and Dana took pictures. Our doctors wanted to immortalize the moment with photos so we obliged, sort of feeling like it was insensitive to Arnst to be doing so but not willing to say no. Arnst's blood pressure began to drop precariously low so the anesthesiologist ran back to her house to find a vial of epinephrine, which she administered when she returned. We started Arnst on antibiotics by injection and he left to another hospital a few days later when we discharged all of our patients.

Foot amputation: at around 1 am (hours after the foot amputation), after other patients in our hospital had been seen by the doctors, they decided to amputate a foot on a patient who had been with us since just a few hours after the earthquake. We cleared the hospital of all the family members who were caring for the patients and explained the procedure to the patient. We had tried to treat her without amputating the foot (she was understandably very resistant to having it done) but infection had set in. We pulled out the flat bike tire again and the docs anesthetized the patient's leg. But don't think it was the anesthesiologist that gave the lidocaine. She was sitting in a chair, falling asleep. The other docs didn't mind and told me not to wake her. The procedure was underway when a cockroach flew at the doctors and they both jumped up and screamed like little girls. After they'd managed to swat it away (or scare it with their screams), one of them burst into song: "La cucaracha, la cucaracha!" It was a great moment of levity, then I felt guilty for laughing in front of this woman getting her foot amputated. The procedure went well, without any other crazy incidences. She was also released to another hospital a few days later.

I'll leave you with a few pictures of our kids I took about a week or two after the quake. They are doing well and attending school at our boys' home and the top part of our new clinic, which is down the street from the guest house and orphanages. If you or someone you know has an interest in teaching children in Haiti, please let me know. We are looking for ESL teachers to finish the rest of the school year with the kids and to also teach in the summer.

Daphne's cast is off and the leg has healed well. Right now her gate is off because the injured leg is shorter than the other. But, numerous doctors have agreed that the leg will remodel and grow to equal the length of the other. An xray yesterday shows that that is indeed occurring.

*Numerous attempts to load more pictures have failed. Hopefully I can add more pictures another day. Enjoy Daphne!

Tsunami

2010-02-08T19:19:00.000-08:00

Day + 1 after the quake: Also know as Tsunami night

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

Instead of letting an inordinate amount of fear set in that night, I should have repeated this verse to myself and to others around me.

A midwife, OB nurse, and EMT arrived around midnight after the quake, so they were hard at work when Ashley and I returned at about 7 or 8am, after a brief attempt at sleep. They were continuing to suture patients, place IV's, pass out pain meds (we only had Ibuprofen, Tylenol and IV Diclofenac), and clean wounds. Different people brought more supplies throughout the night and have continued to do so up until now.

Memorable moments of the day:

Soon after I arrived, Ari told me that Erta had been found. "Alive?" I said. "Yes, alive, but is injured. We don't know how bad." Ari and I hugged and cried. Erta had called her dad at some point that morning and he had called Marlval. Again, Marlval went out to look for but wasn't able to get close enough to her location due to either debris or traffic. Later that afternoon she came hobbling in, supported by her mom. "I wasn't going to leave that school without her," her mom said. So, she'd walked around the area of the school and found her sleeping at a park. Soon after her school collapsed, Erta had climbed her way out of the rumble, found her brother, and they walked to a nearby park to sleep with some other classmates. Erta said she'd "seen a light and followed it out." She'd only managed to sustain a sprained ankle! Oh, and her hair. It looked like she'd stuck it in an electric socket. Being the friend that I am, I of course teased her about it for the rest of the day, as well as hugged her repeatedly and told her that I had cried the most for her out of anyone else. Thank you, Jesus, for this beautiful, funny, smart friend of mine!

An Haitian orthopedic surgeon showed up to aid us. Oh, how excited and thankful we were! Most of the injuries we saw from here on out were broken bones or open wounds on arms or legs (especially open ankle wounds) and we especially needed this doctor to treat these patients. The number of people with head lacerations significantly decreased after day one.

I was sitting inside with Daphne, whose leg had been placed in traction by a former EMT currently living in Haiti, when I heard a commotion coming from the front gate at around 10 or 11pm. I left a crying Daphne in a room with other pediatric patients to find out what was occurring. Ashley told me that some people had run by the open gate of the boys’ home yelling in Creole, “There’s water coming!” The doctors, who had just finished operating on one arm of a woman with compartment syndrome, but had yet to bandage her arm, were discussing whether to believe the words of the people running by and yelling. The doctors informed us that the radio had been warning people that a Tsunami would next hit Haiti. The orthopedic surgeon’s wife, our neighborhood’s Minister of Health, insisted that they leave. The anesthesiologist working with him wanted to check on her dad who lives nearby, so she ran out of the clinic right after our surgeon left. Ashley, appearing to know about Tsunami’s, insisted that a tsunami would have followed immediately after the earthquake, not a day later. Also, where would the water come from? The ravine just down the street only has a stream running through it at best. Someone from the visiting team from the states walked in, heard the commotion, and began to insist that we get all of the MdL kids up to the roof. There is no roof top that all our kids can fit on at the boys’ home, so the next best thing was the guest house. Would it fall in with more than fifty people walking on it? While the kids were woken up (they all slept in the “bens”, the sport court connected to the boys’ home), marched between the scared patients and down the street to the guest house, Marlval was screamed at by Ashley and I (sorry, man) to wake up Bill and Susette to find out what they knew about the tsunami scare and what decisions they wanted to make for our kids. Neither Ashley nor I wanted to make that decision, let alone figure out what to do with our patients if there was a tsunami coming. I briefly imagined Daphne and I huddled together and dying in a flood. Hands down this was the scariest, worst night of my life. We all let fear rule us that night. I think I thought that if an earthquake had occurred, we had turned the boys’ home into a hospital and surgery was being performed there, why wouldn’t another crazy thing like a tsunami hit us now?

Robert grabbed a flashlight and walked down the street to see if he could see more people or “water.” I learned later that when the kids arrived at the guesthouse, the roof was vetoed as not safe for that many people and Cindy (bless her- we all agreed later she was right) thought the idea of a tsunami was ridiculous and based on fear. Apparently the visitors thought differently as they all decided to hang out on the roof for a bit. Marlval either was afraid to wake up Bill and Sue when he got to their house or the guard wasn’t too keen on waking them up. Either way, they heard the stories the next day. Our wonderful patients never uttered a peep about the fear seizing us- they just stared at us with wide eyes and I’m sure felt fear of their own- i.e. how am I going to get up to a roof with two broken legs or my arm open to the muscle? The kids were walked back to the bens, hopefully having no idea why their crazy American friends were walking them back and forth. Robert found no water and very few people in the area. Soon our doctors returned and resumed their work on the lady’s arm. However, Ashley and I were deeply shaken and found it difficult to place an IV for another lady. I don’t remember now how she got her IV. At around 1 or 2am I laid down on a mattress next to Daphne, Ari, and Erta. Daphne had an adverse reaction to a small dose of Vicodin (some nice person had shared a bottle with us!) I had given her earlier that day, so I was up most of the night with her while she experienced hallucinations and major itching.

Quake pictures

2010-01-29T18:37:00.000-08:00

On the Sunday after the earthquake, Dana, Ashley, and I were finally able to venture out of our neighborhood with Fritz to take an older lady, Ely, home. She had been waiting in our “hospital” for a few days to receive a cast and also didn’t have a way to return home as tap taps were operating infrequently and she lived further up the hill. Apparently someone had seen her crying on the street a day or so after the earthquake and had picked her up and dropped her off at our clinic. Below is the only picture I managed to upload from that afternoon. The internet has been extremely slow in allowing me to put pictures on here. This picture probably seems "tame" in comparison to what you have seen on tv or in newspapers. Of course the media doesn't portray things in the best possible light, so Haiti looks completely demolished to those who aren't here and often only the stories of despair or violence are shared. What I saw and have experienced didn't look that way. It will be interesting to get out more, hopefully this weekend. What I have experienced in our neighborhood are compassionate people wanting to help their neighbors and family. I have seen strangers hold hands and sing praises to God from their tables that are used as hospital beds. I have watched children serve water to the sick, pick up trash, jump into conversations to translate, and lead adults in singing praises to God. Haiti is an island of beauty, mostly because of its tenacious, resilient, humorous, and kind people.

7.0

2010-01-23T19:08:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to write about my experience during the earthquake itself and about the crazy week after... not that it still isn't crazy here. Here's a bit and I'll continue working on it.

Last Tuesday, January 12, 2010, Dana, Ashley (another nurse who recently moved here to work with our ministry), and I went out with our newest staff member, Desir, to buy cellphones for ourselves. We made a quick stop at the Petionville market to buy some supplies for the feeding program and I bought myself some hair rollers, in hopes that Navi, my lovely Haitian friend who is a nanny at the girls' home, might be able to do something with my perpetually dirty hair.

For some reason I left the bens (probably to get some medication for one our kids). I was just off the stairs that lead into boys home when I began to feel the earthquake. I looked at Cindy, another missionary with our ministry, and said “Is this a…!” “Yes!” she said and we both ran, along with two of our older boys, for the doorway that leads inside the boys’ home. As I heard many of our kids crying, someone handed me Daphne, our four year old who lives at the girls’ home. I only saw a small wound on the back of her head so I thought she was crying for this and out of fear. We called all of the kids out of the bens and boys’ home and headed down the street to see our other kids. I handed Daphne off to Navi. Next, I heard that an elderly lady was pinned by some blocks outside her home. Robert, a visiting missionary, a few of our older boys, and I ran inside her gate to check on her. We needed a stretcher to get her out so some of the boys and I ran back to the boys’ home to take the wood off the top of our exam table in our clinic. Robert came back to me with Daphne while others worked on getting the lady out of her yard. Daphne would not allow anyone to sit her down, would not move her leg, and was inconsolable. Robert believed she’d broken her femur. Jim, another visitor, cut up some cardboard, I laid down on a picnic table that had been moved outside, and Robert laid Daphne down on top of me to put her femur in a splint, which obviously looked broken. I suggested we get Daphne to a doctor quickly, but someone said that hospitals would be full by now and difficult to access. I think this is when it hit me that this wasn’t a small “incidence” that hit our country. It was huge with a huge fallout. Or maybe it hit me a few minutes later, when people started walking or running up to Ashley and I with their injured loved ones. Throughout the night people walked up to our boys' home and drove up in tap taps (public transportation- taxi's that are painted in bright colors and often sport words such as "Mesi Jezi (Thank you Jesus) and Bondye Beni Out (God Bless You)) with the injured. I’ll highlight a few of the cases:

A young girl with a large scalp laceration, major blood loss, and swollen/bruised eye. Ashley tried to put an IV in her. We were in the dark by then and working out in the street, but flood lights were set up by our older boys. After a few attempts, success! We had maybe one or two bags of IV fluids so tried to save them for her. She made it through the night. I left for a few hours the following morning, and someone (hopefully a doctor) either discharged her or took her to another clinic or hospital. We also had a young boy in a similar situation who was probably stuck 30 times by Ashley and other doctors who showed up that night to get an IV. In my job in the states we had an "IV team" who focused solely on placing IV's and checking dressings for IV's, therefore I admittedly am horrible at placing them and didn't even try on this child. The next morning he was also taken to another hospital. Another miracle that he survived after blood loss.

Patrick heard word that his (and Phara's) mom was sitting outside a hospital waiting to receive care. After attempting to get care for Daphne (the hospital was not accepting more patients), Marlval drove Patrick to pick up his mom. She came back with a severely gashed foot and head laceration. Her foot was cleaned and dressed, her laceration sutured, and a bed was made for her on the porch in the boys' home. She stayed all week and left the following Monday morning with her other daughters to care for her. However, they lost their home and are now, I believe, living in one of the many "tent cities" that have been created since the earthquake.

Two Haitian doctors arrived who knew how to suture. Amen! I didn't have a clue and Ashley, Lord bless her, had done it a few times previously so was trying. We couldn't help laughing as these doctors couldn't keep their glasses on to see so required someone to hold their glasses on their faces and sweated profusely onto their patients.

Many many people were brought to us with broken legs and arms. We had our "handymen" visitors, Jim and Robert, creating makeshift splints out of cardboard and sheets. A few seemed to be suspicious for broken backs. What could we do? We kept them until a doctor could see them the next day or released them to try another hospital the following day. I wanted to shout over and over: "This is NOT A HOSPITAL! IT IS DIRTY BOYS' HOME!"

Throughout the night I kept asking staff members and missionaries who came to check on us if they had seen or heard from my close friend, Erta, who lives at and works with our ministry. She recently started college- a long time dream of hers- and she had been attending classes when the quake hit. Her dad showed up at one point and asked Marlval to drive him to look for her. Hours later they returned with the news that her school was in ruins and the few survivors had been taken to hospitals. I won't explain my reaction- you can guess. It was a long, horrible night after that. At around 4 am Bill and Sue convinced Ashley and I to head back to the guest house to sleep. Those of us sleeping there all piled into the living room on our mattresses. I was ready to give away all bunk beds in the house. I didn't sleep at all. Every time I closed my eyes I thought of my last conversation with Erta or pictured people coming up to me saying "Please help my child." The only response I could think to say was "I don't know how to help you." I felt so very inadequate.

The Market

2010-01-11T10:24:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago a group of us living and visiting at the guest house made a trip to the Petionville market to buy some clothes. So many colors, people, smells (you take the bad with the good), and sounds that one can be overwhelmed. All the merchants want you to buy their stuff so they try to entice you by saying you are beautiful and you'd look beautiful in their shirt. I was rebuked when I tried to take a picture of a display of wares because I wasn't buying anything from this merchant. So, I tried but I didn't see a need for a single burner or more kitchen utensils.

As a Christmas gift this year all of our kids received money to buy an outfit for church, dress shoes, and tennis shoes. I made a trip to a different market with our girls, some visitors, and a few of our staff to purchase their items. Amidst the singing Christmas tree lights, we moved from vendor to vendor to find the right shirt, skirt, jeans, or shoes. Fritz, one of our awesome Haitian staff members, was in charge of the money. I quickly realized that either these girls don't know how to barter or are so desperate to get what they have picked out that they are fine with the prices they are quoted. Each girl would desperately seek out Fritz to pay for their clothes or shoes, so that we could hear above the music playing and the crowds, "Fritz, Fritz, Fritz! Achte pou mwen (buy for me)! The merchants got in on the action too, pulling on his shirt and yelling his name. The girls often got mad and walked off in a huff when Fritz wouldn't buy their finds right away. Nevertheless, each kid made out with a bag full of nice clothes that made us look filthy in our clothes in comparison.

Petionville Market

What happens at the dentist

2009-12-30T20:46:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago a dentist examined the mouths of half our children to see who needs fillings, teeth extracted, and teeth repaired. Last Friday Bill and I took eight of the kids to this dentist's office with an expected arrival time of 9:30. After about 45 minutes of driving in circles and repeatedly calling the dentist to help us find the right turn, which was described as "the house with a tin fence surrounding it," we arrived. The dentist, a Dominican woman living here with her missionary husband, was prepared with her laptop and movies for the kids to watch while we waited. And wait we did- but Bill and I were both prepared with books to read because This is Haiti (TIH). Anderson's front tooth that was chipped years ago was repaired and the dentist took a molding of his gum and teeth to put a fake tooth where he was missing one in the front. Semi decided he did not want his front tooth fixed because he "looks handsome that way", but did have a few cavities filled. Some of the kids were able to have the work done without anesthesia, while many needed their hands held so as not to rip the dental tools out of their mouths (read: bring on the anesthesia!) Poor Yvenel threw up a few times before he made it to the dental chair. Skip past all your required years of cleaning and go straight to the drilling. Each kid was asked by the others when they were done: "Did you get a piki (shot)?" Mr. Bill made all of us- but not our teeth- happy as he bought ice cream for all before the adventure ended at 5pm. More trips to the dentist to follow for these same children and more.

Two weeks in Haiti

2009-12-06T19:19:00.000-08:00

Could this girl (Daphne) bring anymore joy to our lives?

Have you noticed how the airlines these days like to freeze you out with air conditioner, no longer provide blankets and pillows, and only serve pretzels or peanuts and a drink? However, the flight to Haiti on American Airlines is practically like flying first class. You receive crackers, spreadable cheese, raisins, and TOBLERONE chocolate!

Highlights of being in Haiti so far:

Worship with the kids and staff on the night of our arrival. I closed my eyes and thanked God for the opportunity to be surrounded by such a beautiful, faithful group of adults and children who were raising their voices in different languages and accents to our Lord.

Running into my friend Madam Jocelyn on the street before she left to travel to the Dominican Republic on Sunday. She will need to complete two more rounds of chemotherapy there first then the radiation will start. Please continue to pray for her healing or start to if you haven't already been doing so.

Visiting the home of Mari, the woman who died from breast cancer last April. Her husband, daughters, and sons seem to be doing well and are joyous and friendly as always.

Extreme spoons with the visiting team: BEST GAME EVER! Those who don't get the spoons that are out on the table have to duke it out over the spoons that are hidden in another room. I may use this as my new mode of physical fitness.

Running on the streets again and the shout-outs from the people as they see me "slowing" by. What I do can't really be described as running. A friend and I deemed it "slowing" years ago.

Praying with the ladies who work at the boys' home during their daily prayer time. They made me pray in Creole and it was highly embarrassing.

My good friends Jocelyn, James, and Alex received VISA's on Wednesday to go the states for English school. I've known these boys for 6 years since they were about twelve years old. I met them on my first trip to Haiti and they were part of the original group of twelve that first made up the boys' home. More recently they have been overseeing the little boys and leading at the feeding program. For at least a year a generous couple from Pennsylvania, Tom and Pat Murphy, have been working with a school and on the Haiti side to get all the paperwork together to apply for the VISA's. We were all concerned that one or two would get it, but the other one or two would be left behind. By the grace of God, they all were allowed to speak with the consulate together (as far as we know, this never happens) and Tom was invited to speak with the consulate as well. Then, they were told to return the next day to receive their VISA's. When we heard the news and shared it with the ladies who clean and cook at the boys' home they jumped up and down, waved their hands in the air, and shouted "Mesi Jezi" (Thank you, Jesus). When the boys arrived home after their appointment, the boys' home erupted into song and dance and laughter. It was beautiful to see all the other kids' excitement for these three who have showed faith and strong character and were blessed by the Lord.

My brothers James, Alex, and Jocelyn- not so little anymore

Jocelyn with Richard, Tibo and Yvenel

California and Florida

2009-11-25T10:43:00.000-08:00

I'm in Haiti now, but first I thought I'd share a little about the week leading up to it.

My time in California was a time of blessing and encouragement. I spent three nights with my friend Rachel in Seal Beach. We watched movies, ate with her family, walked on the beach, and visited her boyfriend's fire station. He gave us a ride on his truck around the neighborhood and then outfitted me in a fireman's outfit. Much fun and laughter ensued.

A close friend and former coworker, Chelsea, drove up to see me and we had breakfast and a walk along the beach. She and I both share a heart for missions and adoption so it is always wonderful to talk and encourage each other.

My friend Brittany had a baby in September. Rachel drove me to see them and we spent the day eating and reminiscing about living in Haiti. Then, our friend Kim spent the evening with us as we walked in Manhattan Beach, eating free food and obtaining "free stuff" at a Christmas tree lighting event (we haven't even had Thanksgiving yet, people!).

I flew out the following day to Fort Lauderdale where I was picked up at the airport by Ted and Lisa Hojara. Lisa and I spent the next day at the beach, relaxing and reminiscing about Haiti, of course. In the afternoon Ted and Lisa's kids, her sisters, and I went horseback riding at Lisa's dad's ranch. I think its been about ten years since I've been riding. One of their horses- none of us rode it- was a serious pest and was, I think, trying to have a love affair with my horse. In the morning Ted and Lisa drove me to the airport and I was very thankful to have Lisa go inside with me as I was forced to do some rearranging of my luggage contents. I was good in California (bags were slightly under the weight limit) but after adding some books in Florida, I was over the limit. It really is quite embarrassing to be opening your suitcase in an airport and showing other passengers that you might not be the best packer.

The week was a joyful time with friends, ones who are like family to me. See you all in Haiti!

Lisa Hojara and I

Parties

2009-11-15T19:40:00.000-08:00

A few of my friends threw me a going away party on Thursday night. It was so fun for me to see my coworkers and former roommates meet each other, chit chat, eat, and find common ground- other than me, of course. Thank you Katie, Andrea, and Suzanne for planning it and to all the ladies for the delicious food and for coming! I felt so loved and encouraged!

Friday night my church friends attended a party for me thrown by my sister. Scrumptious food, wine, and laughter were served. Again, the encouragement and love was overwhelming. It made me realize how much I have to be thankful for concerning people in my life. I have a ton of loving friends and wise women in my life who have supported me even more since I returned home.

Yesterday my family and I ate some turkey in celebration of an early Thanksgiving. Today, my nephew, Elias, was baptized at church then we went out to lunch. I guess the theme of the last few days has been food!

Tomorrow I'll be leaving to see my friends Chelsea, Kim, Brittany, and Rachel. My wonderful friend Megan came over last week to help me pack. It was a huge burden lifted off of me to have that done early. Thanks Megs! Just a few final touches before I can shut- er... smash... er...jump on- those suitcases. Au revoir!

In one month...

2009-10-21T21:25:00.001-07:00

Just a few of the children I look forward to loving on when I return

Last Wednesday I gave my three week notice at my workplace, Children's Hospital. When I asked our nurse specialist when my manager would be back at work, she responded with, "You better not be quitting." I couldn't lie so I told her "yes." She was very supportive of my reason (she wasn't surprised) and even went so far as to say she might like to come visit me! Rarely do I have someone bring that idea up themselves... it seems that it comes from some prompting on my part or others. My manager was understanding and supportive as well. My last day is November 8th. On November 16th I will be flying out of Seattle to see a few friends for a couple of days in California. Then, I will spend two nights with Ted and Lisa Hojara in Fort Lauderdale (the Hojaras lived in Haiti last year and worked with Maison de Lumiere). On November 21st I arrive in Haiti, the same day as a wonderful group of people from Bill and Susette's church in the states, Kings Harbor. I have met and enjoyed many of these people on their previous trips to Haiti.

What will I be doing with Maison de Lumiere? Much of the same duties I had before: nurse for the childrens' homes, nurse for the community, and leading bible studies for the girls alongside the Haitian staff and my new friend Dana and Bill and Sue's daughter, Ariana. Dana is living at the guesthouse, ministering to the girls, and overseeing the feeding program for the neighborhood kids. She and I will be roommates. Ariana (my friend I tutored in math last year) is now living at the girls' home. I would love to reach out more to the ladies in our neighborhood with Bible studies, health and hygiene classes, and teach them how to read.

Stay tuned for updates from Haiti upon my arrival and check out my friends' blogs from Haiti listed to the right.

Reflection

2009-10-21T18:30:00.000-07:00

The past five months that I have been back in Seattle have caused much reflection and prayer on my part. I have needed to drawer nearer to God to heal my heart, to strengthen me, and to learn how to live in America again.

I have also been praying to know if it is the Lord's will for me to return to Haiti long-term again. I had asked Susette (who started the Maison de Lumiere ministry with her husband, Bill) how she knew she was called to live in Haiti. She said she first knew when she felt the plane was going the wrong way after her first visit to Haiti and she was leaving. She feels more at home in Haiti than she does in the states...not that she loves her friends and family in the states any less. It is painful for her to leave them. But, she feels more passionate about serving in Haiti than she does anywhere. And, she had a heart for the boys since she first met them when some of them were living in a terrible situation. This conversation has been resounding in my head since we had it. I knew that all these things applied to me when I was still in Haiti. Yet, I felt like I needed to be back in the states to really know it and for other reasons. As I've said before, I have loved being back with my family and friends. It has actually been an easier- not easy- adjustment than I had thought it would be. However, the faces of the Haitians, especially the children, flash through my mind a thousand times a day and I think of all the memories we created together. My heart feels like a big hole has been cut out of it and left behind in Haiti. I have never loved doing anything as much as I have loved "doing" Haiti. My church is excited to financially and prayerfully support me and the Manasseros have asked me to return. For these reasons I see that the Lord has called me back. Additionally, I am convicted by these verses:

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27

I am NOT saying that Christians obtain their salvation or a relationship with God by works or looking after orphans. I am saying that looking after orphans (and widows) is a fruit or sign of our relationship and salvation by Christ. And He commands that we do it. How are we looking after orphans and widows? How are YOU looking after orphans and widows? What does this look like to you in your life?

I am NOT tooting my own horn. It is only by the grace of God that I have a desire to do what I am doing. He has given me these dreams and put His love in me to love Haiti and its people. I give Him the glory. I wouldn't be doing this of my own volition. I am thankful I won't be doing it alone or by my own strength.

Change of Venue

2009-09-24T19:33:00.000-07:00

Hi Faithful Readers,

I've had some issues with the Mac format for blogging, so I have switched to using blogger for my ramblings. You can still read my old updates at http://web.me.com/brookerenee
I thank you for still reading!

-Brooke