Tuesday, February 5, 2013

First day of second week, First day without Americans


There so many things I have touched, smelled, tasted, heard, and seen this past week such as;


Smelled: This I have to admit is probably the most challenged of the senses in Haiti. It’s very difficult to find a pleasant smell in Haiti. I was really looking forward for the jasmine tree in the compound to be in bloom this time as it was in August that gave me a great escape then. Here goes, I have definitely smelled every odor the human body can produce more than I care to admit. Moving on….


Tasted: I have tasted every way beans and rice can be possibly made, I have tasted goat in various ways but I have to say last night’s was the best, fruit juices made of “grenadia”, pineapple, and grapefruit (yummmm), fried okra which I enjoyed a little too much and the awesomeness of Coca Cola in a bottle.


Heard: I have heard cows, goats, hammers on a tin roof, men cheering the Super Bowl game, children singing every morning and every night, drums, car horns galore and worshipping like I will probably never hear at home.


Touched: I have felt the hugs and kisses of many children every day, dirt everywhere, and have held the hand of a woman as I walked (something very common in Guatemala and Haiti as I am sure many other countries).


Seen: I have seen generosity in many areas from different people. I witnessed a four year old share his half slice of bread with peanut butter shared with three of his little friends during recess. Also I admired a teenager save his granola bar we gave them one night for a friend, to gift it as a birthday present. I have seen two teams from CCC one caught vision and one built a goat farm. I have seen beautiful mountains make sunrises and sunsets much more stunning. I also have seen an eight year old girl get dropped off (abandoned)  at a Children’s Home because it is safer to let her go to an orphanage than to have her live in a tent city risking to get raped. She has never gone to school, she saw her mother walk away and not know if she’s coming back or who she is living with at the age of eight. I saw her walk into the girls’ room get a bunk assigned to her as she carried one tote with all her belongings.


I’ve also had great conversations with Madame Yanik, the pastor’s wife. We have talked about life, ministry, and she has shared many stories about the kids. Sometimes I have walked away laughing but many times I have walked away wanting to hide in a corner, weep and not know anymore of their hardships. The stories of these kids are hard, ugly and beyond what my mind can process. I have definitely proved that ignorance is bliss, I have only been here a week and sometimes wonder if it had been better to not know.


Please continue praying for my safety and my health. I write this as my knees, ankles and toes are throbbing through the swollenness from the hardship of walking in the rocks and dirt.






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