Haiti Happenings 5 - The End

Our last moments in Haiti. We woke up at 4:30 am (2:30 our time) so that we could have breakfast, say our goodbyes, load up the car, drive to Port au Prince and do a little souvenir shopping in town before heading for the airport to fly home.

I was shocked to find the little ones up at this time in the wee hours of the morning (though the sun was peeking out). A few were still asleep and I prayed that they would wake up soon enough so that I could kiss their little faces and say goodbye.

After breakfast, it was time to say goodbye. I kissed each beautiful "timoon" and said "mwe reme ou" (I love you) with quiet tears streaming down my face. I meant every word. Oh, how I loved these wonderful, strong little humans. Little Anna sat on my lap with tears in her eyes. Was there really an adoption freeze in Haiti? Couldn't I just take them all home with me? Okay, so the Lord knows me well enough to know that I can't even handle three... none-the-less 25 more, but I hated to simply walk away from these dear friends. We said our goodbyes to everyone there... they each made this trip absolutely unforgettable. From Carole's amazing hospitality and meals, to the helpers who insisted on making our bed each morning... they will never know how much of an impact they had on us.

We put our luggage in the truck and hopped in. I tried so hard not to think about driving away. I was actually thinking about my own darling children that I missed so dearly... that helped the tears disappear as we drove away from the orphanage. I was so excited to see my own little timoons!

Saint Marc was full of people sweeping the dirt off of their mats, riding their bikes, setting up their merchandise for the day, picking fruit, getting water from the wells, and anything else they could before the heat of the day set in. It was beautifully quiet... a perfect way to exit Saint Marc.

As we drove along the now familiar street to Port au Prince, I loved watching the cute kids walking to school in their crisp, clean uniforms. I was always in awe of the amount of people that would fit into a tiny truck, or on top of a huge bus. The scooters were crazy no matter what time of the day it was, and even in our last moments, I was praying that we would live through the drive.

We came upon a familiar spot I called the "farm land". Most of the stretch from Saint Marc to Port au Prince had some huts or markets which lined the main road, but there was a point right before we hit Port au Prince which was open land. It also smelled weird (like some farm lands do).

All of a sudden it hit me... I quickly asked where the dead bodies from the earthquake were buried and Richard (the security guard) pointed out the window. The smell burned my nose. The smell was worse now that I knew what it was. Tears appeared in my eyes for the millionth time this trip. Hundreds of thousands of bodies, piled on top of each other in a mass, impersonal grave. Unbelievable.

My heavy heart became even heavier as I saw the tents on the hill.

This was a new living community of people who lost their homes and wanted to escape the city Port au Prince, yet be close enough to be able to get some supplies. What happens to those poor tents on the hill when the torrential rains come? What do they drink without any water sources nearby? How can they stand the smell that lingers just down the hill from them? I had so many sad questions that I almost didn't want to know the answer to.

We arrived in Port au Prince. I always knew when we were in Port au Prince because of the little kids that would come and beg at the window for money. Their face and my face so close, just separated by some glass. I couldn't look into their eyes or else I may have given them everything I owned. Some kids would even start cleaning the outside of the truck so we would pay them. Shouldn't I pay them for trying as hard as they knew how to earn a couple of dollars? Once again my hand was slapped (not literally) as I reached in my pocket... I understood it was for our own protection, but so what? How bad could the mauling for money be? Were they that desperate? As I looked around once again, I realized that answer to that question was yes. Amputated individuals limping over rubble, people suffering in so many different ways. How can they be saved? How are they going to get their lives back to "normal"? What can we do and where do we start? I asked Peter these questions as we neared the airport and he said "one person at a time". That was a good answer. I felt a peace knowing that we (and so many others) were able to help Fritzner and bring some joy to their lives (although incomparable to the amount of joy they brought to ours). As we continue to raise money, pray for, and help Fritzner, we are helping one person in Haiti who will, without a doubt, go on to pay it forward.

So, in all of my rambling, I want to thank everyone who contributed to the supplies for Danny's Eagle project. Thank you to Danny and the Duvalls for putting everything together in such an organized manner. Thank you to 1-2-3 Learn Preschool and Nicholas Valley Elementary students for donating so much money to help these dear friends. Thank you to Dallin for having such a great idea and a kind heart. Thank you to my husband who would take me with him on a journey such as this. Thank you to my parents and sister for watching our kids so we could take this journey. Thank you to everyone who keeps the people of Haiti in your prayers. All of these things have made a positive difference in a country that needs it... how blessed I am to have witnessed it first-hand.

As we pulled up near the airport, we grabbed a couple of souvenirs and then were dropped off. We had another set of goodbyes as we thanked Captain (our driver) for keeping us alive and Richard for making sure that this American girl wasn't stolen for ransom. Our last goodbye was to our dear friend Fritzner as he helped us pull all of our empty suitcases out of the truck. Here is a man that I have admired from afar, but now have a deep respect and love for. He is truly a dear friend and brother. It wasn't actually a goodbye, it was a see you soon. That felt better.

We went through about a dozen security screenings and finally made it into the waiting area. We were 3 hours early for our flight, and as I felt the sweat drip from my brow and smelled the smoke from the woman sitting next to me, I knew it was going to be a long afternoon. It was so freakin' hot in there and the large fan in front of us was not helping at all. At any other time in my life, I would have been miserable... a complaining mess. This time, it was different. With all that I had witnessed in the past few days, I was incredibly grateful to have a husband to sit by, a computer to play with, a water bottle to drink, and enough funds to be able to fly home. Eventually the air conditioning kicked in and Peter and I enjoyed our Battleship battles.

As we waited, I went in to use the restroom. As I was washing my hands, a beautiful little Haitian girl (probably 7) handed me a paper towel to dry my hands. As I said "merci", she grabbed my hands and began to stroke them. She touched my face and then hair. She held my hand as we walked out of the bathroom together. We smiled at each other as I walked back to my chair in the waiting room. I will never forget how beautiful, kind and strong the Haitians are.

Although I have used thousands of words to describe this most memorable trip, there is no way to truly convey the experience we had. It was unbelievable. It was hot. It was wonderful. It was horrible. It was emotional. It was beautiful. It was sad. It was humbling. It was strengthening. Most of all, it was life-changing. A short journey with long-lasting effects.

I can't wait to go back...

(If you happened to read all of these lengthy Haiti posts, I hope you don't have a headache :). I would love to hear who has been reading, so please leave a comment. And thanks for reading.)

Haiti Happenings 4

Day 4 (May 5)- This was our last full day in Haiti. We woke up to the same wonderful noises as yesterday. Some of the older kids were already at school (it costs money to attend school in Haiti, so only a few from the orphanage are able to go... to rest are taught in the orphanage). The younger timoons were eating breakfast around the big green table.

We ate another delicious breakfast as well (I had Peter tell Carole that she needs to write a Haitian cookbook... it was amazing food).

I held baby Lovely for a little bit. She started to get fussy, so I laid her down in her bed and stroked her little face. She became drowsy and eventually fell asleep. It was a memorable moment for me. Little heaven.

We spent the whole day in Saint Marc. I loved getting out of the car and mingling with the people. There is an energy and point of view that you just can't feel from the car. We walked up and down the streets and alleys, watching men haul wheelbarrows, women tend for their children, merchants trying to sell anything (mostly used clothing... it was like one huge garage sale), teenagers hanging around, motor scooter taxis dodging each other on the road... a word comes to mind that describes it best - mayhem. No rhyme or reason... just lots of things happening at once.

We dodged through the main market. It was mostly women selling things. There were a few canned things, but the majority of the food being sold was from the land... fruits, veggies, meats. It was the meat part of that equation that made me dry heave. As we walked through the "meat market", everywhere I looked I was that much closer to throwing up. There were intestines in a bowl, crabs crawling out of the bowls, fresh meat just chopped covered with flies, bloody things, chopped chicken feet hanging out on the table, every single part of the animal displayed on a table in the 100 degree heat surrounded by millions of flies. The stench was nasty and I was praying that Carole didn't buy her meat here :). Oh, how grateful I am for the Albertson's meat department.

As we left the meat section, Peter showed me a bowl filled with grey, circle-shaped discs... they were dirt cookies... made from dirt... and people ate them. My heart became heavy as I thought about how destitute one must be to resort to eating dirt. It really was a whole different world.

Just as I felt tears swelling up in my eyes, we came upon some women selling clothing. One woman looked at us and proceeded to give us "blancs" an Oscar-winning performance. She rolled on the ground, pretending to be dying, at one point pretending to be having enormous seizures, all the while saying "help me, blancs... I am dying." Please don't think that this was serious in anyway. Everyone around us (including us) was dying as well... of laughter. It was hilarious. She gave everyone in that market a good show and oh, how I wanted to send some money her way. Heaven knows she earned it. Both Fritzner and Peter warned me again to not pull out any money in a crowded area, and it was most definitely crowded. Darn it.

Near market was a Deli Mart where we ate lunch (the same fast food chain that we ate at yesterday in Port au Prince). I have never been more thankful for air conditioning (I'm sure the employees appreciate the generator as well).

Something that I never really got used to was the amount of "security" walking around with loaded guns strapped to their torso. We were sitting, enjoying our sandwiches when a young security guy (18 years old or so) walked in with his gun. Because Haiti has been under Martial Law for quite some time, people with guns is a common sight. Peter told me that when he was on his mission, he would see dead people lying on the street who had been shot because they were trying to steal something. If you are driving and hit and kill someone, people will immediately burn you while you are still in the car. All of these stories had me a little on-edge the entire time we were there. Especially as we were driving through crowded streets and hanging out in the marketplace.

Our next stop was at a local school where Fritzner is on the board of directors (yep, something else). A squeaky gate was opened and we entered into a little courtyard... lots of stares for the blancs :).

We met the kind principal who took us into every classroom to meet the children (K-12). Peter spoke with each class, asking them what grade they were in and usually told a Peter joke.

My favorite was in one of the older classes, they asked Peter how it was that he spoke Haitian Creole so well and Peter retorted "I AM a Haitian, my mom just drank some bleach". We all thought that was pretty funny. In the last class, Peter shoved me to the front and translated my blabberings to them. They were all so gracious.

We went back outside to the courtyard to find the Kindergartners at recess. I walked up to them and taught a little group how to give me a high-five. I turned around to find some more darling faces to high-five. Within a few minutes, I was surrounded by the sweetest little group of kindergartners.

Once again, I was entranced by their deep, beautiful eyes and infectious smiles.

I took photos of them, they sang and danced for us, we gave more high-fives and then it was time to go. I can't think of a way to express in words what a beautiful experience this was. It just was.

After visiting this school, we drove down some of the main roads. At one point, I quickly saw the ocean and never realized how close we were to it. It was literally a stones throw away. The crazy thing was, it was almost impossible to see. I kept trying to get a picture as we drove past little alley ways, but I was unsuccessful. Here in California, ocean front property is out-of-this-world expensive... in Haiti, it is apparently where the "crazy people" live. Because they have so many hurricanes, people block the ocean, and generally try to steer clear of it. Such a shame seeing as how beautiful it was.

We drove north for about a 1/2 hour to one of the only "resorts" in Haiti. It is called Club Indigo, and compared to what we had seen the past few days, it was pretty nice. The greatest part about it was the open beach... it was beautiful.

There was sand, lounge chairs and ocean as far as the eye could see. It was also desolate... I swear I heard crickets chirping. If anyone wants to go on a vacation to Haiti with us, we can stay there and give that poor place some business. Next time.

We had some time to kill before picking Kemley up from school, so what does a Stake President do when there is some time to kill? Visit members. We pulled up to a tiny home with dirt floors and a gorgeous garden out front. We were introduced to Roseth, a woman in her 80's and one of the first members to join the church in Haiti. She greeted us all with a warm embrace and kisses on both cheeks. She was radiating love. She lived with her daughter and granddaughter who both joined us on the patio. Every once in awhile, someone would peek from behind the sheet door. It was someone different each time and made me wonder how many people actually lived in this little home.

We sat on their porch and all of the beautiful foliage provided nice shade relief on such a horribly hot day. I hated that I didn't speak Haitian Creole. It killed me when I desperately wanted to ask the orphans something, when I wanted to tell Fritzner and Carole how amazing I think they are, and in this situation, wanting to hear all about Roseth's life experiences. I just had to sit there, smiling, hoping that they knew I was genuinely interested in all they had to say... whatever it may have been.

After our visit, we took a photo out in their garden and Rose, the granddaughter, had never had her picture taken before. She was so excited that we took one of just her... she didn't say anything, but her eyes expressed all of her excitement. Another lesson learned... enjoy and appreciate the small things (like a photo of yourself).

We picked up Kemley from school and headed back to the orphanage. Once again, I loved the honk of the horn, one of the older kids running down to open up the gate and all of the little smiling faces up above on the second floor as we pulled in.

As we walked in, we saw the kids coloring and playing with the goods from their backpacks.

Maya had taken a washcloth and wrapped it around her baby bear. They were having such a great time.

I sat and watched while holding little Lovely.

We ate dinner and then prepared to give them the rest of the items from Danny's eagle scout project. We locked ourselves in our room as we pulled out all of the clothes, toys, towels, medication, hygiene supplies, shoes, etc. We brought it all out and placed it on the kid's bunk beds for Fritzner and Carole sort through.

Before letting the kids come in and see it all, we presented the envelope filled with money from Dallin's fundraiser to Fritzner and Carole.

Dallin raised over $850 for their orphanage. They were overwhelmed. Fritzner told us over and over again to thank Dallin and let him know how grateful and amazed he is that a 7 year old boy would do something like this for others. I have to agree... Dallin is one special kid.

The kids then lined up and walked into their room one-by-one to find all of their new stuff. They were each able to pick out a toy (which they were super-excited about)! There were jump ropes, frisbees, soccer balls, etc. They went right to it. The boys were passing the balls to each other, the girls were jumping rope together, and some of the older women were using the frisbees to fan themselves in the Haiti heat :). It was fun madness in that little room and we could tell that they were thrilled to have something besides dominoes and blocks to play with.

Okay, so it was my turn to play... dress up. Little Anna came up to me and wanted to look at the new clothes. She chose a darling little dress (one of Claires) and I helped her put it on. She looked beautiful.

I looked up and found that a line of little girls had formed... all wanting to play dress up too. One by one, they would come over and I was able to help them find something lovely to wear. We were all in girl heaven.

It really wasn't dress-up though, it was an outfit to call their own. An outfit that they would probably have on for the next week or so.

After I was done with the little ones, I saw the older girls standing there with hopeful eyes. All of the clothes collected were for kids, so we had no adult or teenage clothing. I could tell they were disappointed.

I went into my suitcase, grabbed whatever shirts I brought and showed them to the girls. Their faces lit up and they immediately went into the back room to put them on. The phrase "giving the shirt off your back" had a whole new meaning for me... and it felt so good. Anyone in that situation with those girls would have done the same.

We all gathered in the main room, all dressed in new clothes and sang "We are the World" together. I cried again, but this time because it was our last night to be there... with them... witnessing such beautiful children who have so little, yet have so much.

I had such mixed emotions as I watched them sing. I was happy to know that these kids have such a nice, safe home... one free of disease and heartache. I felt peace knowing that Fritzner would find wonderful homes for each of them. I was thrilled to have been able to see them play, interact, and live their day-to-day lives. I was also sad to know that our journey was over and that I may never see some of these beautiful faces again. Peter and I talked about how the next time we visit, it will probably be a whole new group of orphans (Fritzner is very good at placing kids in good homes). I cried harder. I loved these kids. Kids that I have never had a conversation with, kids that I had only spent a handful of hours with, kids who somehow touched our lives in such a short period of time but will remain with us forever.

We were not ready to say goodbye just yet...

Haiti Happenings 3

Day 3 (May 4) - We slept in (dang time change). I don't know HOW we slept in considering what we were surrounded by. To the right of our room was the kitchen and laundry "room" with the women chatting and cooking (there were just screens, no glass windows), behind us was an alley way that the kids would run through right next to the clucking chickens, there were the goats making their goat noises up on the hill, and to the left of the room was the kids room (and they get up around 5:30 am).

I actually laid in bed for a few minutes when I was finally fully awake just to take it all in. We toweled off, put some clean clothes on and emerged from the room. The kids were happy to see us this time which thrilled me (since I was deeply in love with them at this point).

We walked in to find a wonderful breakfast. The only thing I was confused by was the spaghetti... Peter quickly educated me. Apparently spaghetti covered with ketchup is a popular breakfast food in Haiti because it is filling and sustaining and may be someones only meal that day. I felt guilty knowing that an incredible lunch and dinner were carefully being prepared for us, and that the person across the road may not have anything else for the rest of the day.

It's a hard pill I had to swallow many times while we were there... the feeling of guilt. Who am I to have such a beautiful home, healthy kids, a full pantry, money in the bank, a knowledge of the gospel, on and on and on. I looked around and I was no different from anyone else. We were all living our lives, trying to do our best, trying to be happy and yet, somehow I have been richly blessed. It was on this day that I knew I could never turn my back on these people we now called family.

Right before Peter and I got on our flight to come to Haiti, we attended our sacrament meeting at church. I felt so nervous sitting there in the chapel pew, thinking about the unknown journey we were about to embark on. I was wondering if we were crazy to go to Haiti at such a dangerous time... I was having hesitations. The closing hymn brought tears to my eyes and I knew it was a tender mercy from the Lord. We sang:

Because I have been given much, I too must give

Because of thy great bounty, Lord, each day I live
I shall divide my gifts from thee
With every brother that I see
Who has the need of help from me

Because I have been sheltered, fed by thy good care
I cannot see anothers lack and I not share
My glowing fire, my loaf of bread
My roof's safe shelter overhead
That he too may be comforted

I shall never be the same. I knew that this was a journey to help our friends in Haiti, but I then realized that this was also going to be a journey to help myself as well. I was learning and my teachers were the humble, wonderful people of Haiti. I needed a good dose of reality. In all of my complaints such as: my house is too small, I don't get to be with my husband enough, my kids are driving me crazy, why do I have to pay a $20 co-pay each time we go to the doctor, my carpets need to be cleaned, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc. I have learned to shut my mouth. I never heard one complaint from anyone while we were there (even if they did, I wouldn't have understood :)), but they were content to be alive and have some food on the table... even if it was just a plate of spaghetti for the day.

Okay, off my tangent... here is what we did on day 3:

Captain (our brave driver) took us back to Port au Prince to see the devastation. We drove through this city for hours and the destruction was never-ending. "Sa trist" in Haitian Creole means "so sad", and I think Peter and I said that about a million times while we were there.

It was unbelievable. People were still buried under the rubble.

There is not enough equipment to move the rubble, so people are going about their lives as usual, except they are now living in a horrible tent on the side of the road and having to walk around and over buildings that have fallen.

Again, no one was sad or complaining, just happy to be alive.

The kids had make-shift schools made of sticks and tarps, people were literally living on top of one another in the "tent cities".

They were bathing themselves on the same street that their neighbor just went to the restroom on.

Not much seemed to have changed in the 4 months since the earthquake and it made me wonder how long these wonderful people were going to have to live like this.

As tears streamed down my face and my lips uttered "sa trist", we pulled up to a gate. We hopped out, listening to some darling kids recite words at a "school" in the middle of the road we were parked on. Fritzner opened the gate and we emerged into a beautiful, quiet and clean place. It was the Port au Prince stake center and I cannot even begin to describe the stark contrast from the two sides of that gate. To the left were church members volunteering of their time to keep the grounds looking beautiful. To the right was the church filled with missionaries, members cleaning the chapel, sisters, brothers... all in this quiet refuge on a Tuesday afternoon. If I lived in Port au Prince, I would have been there too. It felt so good. I love that the church is the same no matter what country, what language, or what circumstance you are in... we are all studying the same Old Testament gospel doctrine lesson this week. It is amazingly wonderful.

Peter looked over to see a man pulling weeds and called out "Alexander!"... a good friend from his mission more than 13 years ago!

A few miles away from the Stake Center was the mission home. We pulled up to it's gate, honked and the gate was opened by the security guard donning a large, loaded shot gun. The church doesn't mess around :). I was a gorgeous building and it's where Peter and Fritzner lived for some of their mission and spent a lot of their time. (picture below was Peter's bedroom when he first arrived on his mission)

It was currently vacant (under renovation), but it was so fun to walk around and see where "my missionary" worked and slept. I could sense Peter's excitement of being back on some old stomping grounds (that hadn't been destroyed). I loved finally getting to see what I have always heard so much about.

We drove around some other parts of the city. We got out of the car to witness the damage to the capitol building. Unbelievable.

It felt like we were on a movie set in some action scene that just destroyed the most important building in the country. Not a movie, but complete and utter reality. Sa trist.

Here are a few of the 100's of photos I took of the devastation and living conditions in Port au Prince:

Along our journey, Fritzner stopped and bought some sugar cane on the side of the road... one of Peter's favorite snacks from his mission. As you can see, it's not one of my favorites :).

We did stop off in the middle of the city to eat lunch at a fast food place. It was very Americanized... pizza, cheeseburgers, ice cream, chicken nuggets... you know, all the stuff that makes us the most obese nation in the world :). We opened the doors to find Haitians with money, and blancs.

Again, I felt so guilty being in there with all that was going on "out there". Was it really impossible to buy everyone in Port au Prince a pizza? Those thoughts consumed us our entire trip.

Our journey through Port au Prince was difficult on the eyes, but tender on the heart. Something I will never forget and something we will never be able to turn our backs on now that we have witnessed it with our own eyes. It's like knowing CPR and not helping someone. We were now educated and with that knowledge comes responsibility. We began concocting little ideas on our drive back to Saint Marc.

When we arrived at the orphanage, we were greeted (as always) by Mido, the crazy guard dog. I wanted to pet him, but I think he would have pounced me to death.

We ran upstairs to find the darling "timoons" (kids) playing with the only two games they owned... dominoes and blocks. They would sit around that green table all day taking turns, playing those games, never fighting or arguing. I wish my kids could have witnessed it.

We turned the corner to find another delicious meal by Carole. I was a little nervous to see a whole fish sitting on my plate, head attached and the eyes staring at me. I sat down, didn't think too hard about it and dug into my friend the fish... it was delicious.

After dinner, it was time for Peter and I to hand out the backpacks that our friend and ward member, Danny, put together for his Eagle Scout project. We were both so excited to play Santa Claus. Peter explained to the kids where the backpacks came from and how much love was put into them, and then we handed them out. Pink for the girls, blue for the boys. The backpacks were filled with school and art supplies, hygiene kits, a stuffed animal, etc.

I was a little disappointed with their reaction at first. They just sat there, opened up the backpack and quietly thumbed through its contents. We took some photos and then went into our room to tidy up.

When we came back out, we saw a differernt story...

they were smiling, coloring, cutting, putting on hand sanitizer and deeply smelling their hands... they were happy. I realized they were overwhelmed at first. I honestly don't think any of them have had their own anything and now they had their very own bag filled with amazing things some had never seen before. One of the youngest boys (3 years old) even fell asleep holding his backpack that night. Maya made a purse using paper, scissors and glue. Fritz-Carl was tracing from his coloring book. DJ brought me his coloring book and literally forced me to color one of the pages in his book. I then taught them how to make snowflakes with their paper and scissors and many spent the rest of the night doing just that.

While Peter and Fritzner were up on the roof chatting, some of the girls pulled me into the other room to teach me dominoes and clapping games. I honestly don't think they ever caught on to the fact that I don't speak their language. They just jibber-jabbered to me and I would smile and say "enfom"(meaning "cool"). They probably just thought I was dumb... and yet they still liked me.

Each night, we were able to experience a recent "Foyer Coin des Cieux" orphanage tradition. Somehow, they had a DVD of the recent remake of the "We are the World" music video made for Haiti. Fritzner would turn on the generator and the tv and the kids would sit in their little chairs and belt out the words to this song as they watched their fellow Haitians highlighted in the video. I cried every night. It was nothing short of touching. Enjoy...