Amazing Moments

So, I have these amazing days. Even my ordinary days have amazing moments. It's not just that I love my job, although I do work with wonderful people who are doing all they can do to transform their communities. But I also live in a place of amazing beauty and laughter and dignity and tragedy.

My days are very full and I do not take the time to jot down the special moments. I then forget them. Over the past few weeks I've been translating for a writing workshop and I've been reflecting on what a loss it is to not record these moments. Here's a slice from today:

Today we were in Bas Duty for our sixth writing workshop. The participants were a mixture of trainers, committee members, and house-to-house volunteers from the Community Health Evangelism programs in Bas Duty and its neighbor, Haut Duty. As usual, the work that the participants did was remarkable, both in content and style. Amelina, a trainer, wrote about a trip she took to neighboring Dominican Republic and her thoughts on the two countries. She wrote, “Our country is charged/loaded with riches, but all those riches turn into nothing.” St. Hiloine Platiny commented on how important it was to have written stories, not just oral stories. “If we do not remember where we've come from, we cannot have a future tomorrow.”

During the training I was reminded that my job description includes the need to be physically strong. The site only had a semi-latrine -- a hole low on the back wall extending down to the sloping floor – for men to urinate. It was a huge leap to get up to the latrine. One reached the latrine only after navigating a slippery, muddy path. Thankfully they had loaned us a bucket for the women to use. There were lots of mosquitoes, and I'd only thought to put repellent on my lower legs, not on my behind. Itchy.

We had to work to overcome the noise from the soccer game during the second half of the workshop -- the television for the community was right next door to the building in which we were meeting. There were a lot of people watching the game since Real Madrid, a favorite team, was playing. Some kids lounged in the branches of a mango tree to better see the TV.

As at the conclusion of the other trainings, after several of the participants commented on how much they enjoyed the training and the effort of the facilitators, then it was our job to thank the participants for their time and thank the trainers for their preparations. Then the trainers and the committee presidents spoke. (I'm very please that I'm finally getting better at this sort of thing – I used to forget to do it but now these formalities come naturally.) The first part of the ride home was in the Hamilton's truck, with four extra passengers who were at our training. Hitching a ride is called a wou lib, or “free wheel.”

The second part of the trip home was in a taptap, a small pickup that has the bed fitted with benches and a roof. It's only 10 gourds, or 25 cents, for the 30- to 60-minute ride. I love riding in taptaps. Yes, it's true, the roofs aren't exactly rainproof. And everyone is squished in, and one's head hits the roof or other body parts smash painfully into things due to the bumpy roads. But, as my supervisor once remarked, during the short time of the ride a small community is formed. People discuss politics, yell at other passengers for littering, provide laps for other people's children.

Traveling here is never boring. Today, as we started out along National Highway #1, a man was leading seven cows home. They were tied to walk all seven abreast, taking up most of the road. Then we passed a funeral procession – people slowly marching in front of and behind the hearse. This procession included a choir that was singing beautifully.

Across from me was seated an older woman, wearing a mauve scrub top with the logo of an American homehealth agency and a leopard print skirt. After we passed the procession she started singing the same song that we'd heard from the choir. After a minute my co-worker, the other end of the taptap, said, “You'll make me cry.” He said it several times, albeit with a smile on his face, but she didn't stop. Someone else said, “Madam, maybe he just had someone die, he says you'll make him cry.” She kept singing the rest of the trip, different hymns in Kreyol and French.

Soon we see people streaming down the street, some laughing and shouting and running. Someone in the taptap says, “The soccer game must be over.”

I get off at the end of the line in downtown Cap Haitien. I start to walk home since it is only 30-some short blocks. I love walking, there is so much to see. As usual, I pass by the Boy Chill Barbershop, its doors painted with combs, a hairdryer, a razor, and also painted heads of men with very neat haircuts and trimmed beards.

I love living here.

Traveling Again!

I just got back from northeastern Haiti -- we're doing a series of workshops for some of our Community Health Evangelism volunteers. I hope to write a post on these workshops soon, but till then I'll leave you with links to others' posts about them:

Deborah Carr, writing coach and our workshop facilitator

Rhonda Hamilton, intern with Medical Ambassadors Canada

Both of these women are great photographers, so I encourage you to go to their blogs not just to read but also to see!

I, on the other hand, am not a talented photographer. I could not even seem to get a great picture of my leg -- and I so wanted you to be able to appreciate my latest drama.


Both of my lower legs are covered in two kinds of bites: these bites surrounded by red halos, and smaller punctate bites (in clumps of 20-ish). Yup, I didn't think I needed to take insect repellent to the mountains because of the lower temperatures there. Oops.

A couple of days in the Dominican Republic

It was phenomenal to stay at Marie's brother's place in Santo Domingo. (Marie is the wife of our Haiti director, and I accompanied her back to the Dominican Republic for more medical tests.) It has been great to get to know her better, and this trip I got to spend two nights at her brother Filone's place. The house is in a nice neighborhood but was left unoccupied for some years, so it was stripped of electrical wiring and doesn't have running water. A nice neighbor, Ito, fills buckets with water for Filone. So we took bucket baths via cell phone light in the evenings. Marie's three other brothers and her sister's husband also live in Santo Domingo and the evenings were filled with visitors – including Marie's adorable 16-month-old twin nieces and some of Filone's Dominican neighbors.

Marie with her brother and his twin daughters

Filone took me on a run the last evening. I haven't run for months, so it was awesome. He really should be an athletic trainer – he kept encouraging me to add in all sorts of Rocky-like moves to my run.

Ito supplied a book so that I could help one of Marie's nieces, Franchesca, with her reading. She's been held back in school and so I'd asked Ito if he had any children's books. At first he said no, but then he came back with a manual on aqueducts and water systems! It had some nice cartoon pictures of community meetings and wells, and we actually did use it for a bit.

Franchesca and I played games with letters and then she did some drawings. She made a lovely drawing of the two of us as princesses in a castle, dancing! Marie later told me that after the first night she and her parents visited, Franchesca – who had seemed rather shy – had asked her mother if I “like black people.” The need for her to ask kind of depresses me, but I love that she was apparently satisfied enough with the answer to play with me that second night.

Franchesca with her mom.

There is no kitchen in the house so Ito, the neighbor, provided coffee the first morning that we were there. The second morning we had to get up at 4:15 am to take the bus to Santiago for another medical appointment, so at midnight the night before Ito brought over a thermos of coffee – what a sweetheart!

In the Santiago hospital the next day I was reminded of Dominican manners, which are similar to Haitian ones in some ways. When you walk into a waiting room you say “good morning” to the people already there, and you also greet people when you get on an elevator.  I think I might make some people nervous in the US if I start doing this....

The next day Marie and I went to the bus station so that she could go back home to Haiti. God really provided for us – Genson and Claudia, two acquaintances of mine, were there waiting for the same bus! So she wasn't alone on the trip, and they were able to help her at the border crossing. Also, a mutual friend came to pick up Genson and Claudia from the bus station and also took Marie home. What a blessing!

After seeing Marie off, I got on a bus to go up to the north coast for a few days of vacation. The bus dropped me off in the bigger city down the road, and I was informed by a fellow passenger that a carro would be cheaper than a taxi to get to Cabarete, my final destination. The taxi drivers at the bus drop-off nicely told me where to wait for a carro, and that I should look for one with a blue gorrita (that means ball-cap, but in the DR apparently also means a little plastic sign on top of the car). A van pulled up and I got in – 25 pesos for me and another 25 for my carry-on-sized bag, since it would be taking the space of a person. I got a little over half of my behind on the seat, and held on to the outside of the roof with the sliding side door open beside me. The cobrador – who assigns people to their places, signals the driver when to stop, and takes the fares – was standing in the open doorway. At one point as we were curving sharply he held up his leg to block me from falling out!

Other posts I'm in

Yay for friends! My new friend and ministry colleague, Rhonda Hamilton, has a blog that is well worth reading if you want to learn more about missions, cross-cultural adjustment, or hear a unique perspective on Haiti. She has written about our Grand Goave trip, including many hilarious details that I didn't put in my posts.

In addition, she wrote a lovely post about me! Once again I say, yay for friends!

All in all

Three things:

1. I read a little prayer in a tract found at a mall in the early 80s and I asked God to forgive me of my sins. In January of 1992 I sensed the presence of the Holy Spirit. Over the next couple of years I started to learn what it meant to both love and serve God and also to learn the truths about who I really was: loved, significant, made in the image and likeness of God, a person with a purpose. I learned that there was healing for past wounds.

2. At church on Sunday the pastor said that when we talk about God, it shows that we are thinking about God. And when we talk about other things more than God, that shows that God isn't a priority in our life. I've been reflecting on that, particularly tonight when I just wrote a Facebook note that didn't mention God at all except in a song title -- and then only in brackets.

3. I haven't dated since Valentine's Day, seventeen years ago. The only thing really memorable about that relationship was its ironic ending, actually on this holiday.  I hear very frequently that the struggles and joys of marriage and parenting are a significant way for one to grow closer to God. The struggles with our spouse or the challenges of parenting lead us to rely on God more and we learn hard lessons in submission and service. Viewed positively, the relationship with our spouse shows us the miracle of true intimacy, our unqualified love for our children teaches us God's inexhaustible love for us. I don't dispute any of this, and I am glad that God uses marriage and parenting to deepen people's walk with God. Over Christmas, though, I was skimming through a book written by someone in a Bruderhof community. The author mentioned that it says in the Bible that single people are primed to grow close to God. In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians he says that unmarried people can have their attention fully focused on God, undivided, wholly devoted.

What's the relationship between these three items? God is my all in all. Sure, I sometimes take my eyes off of Jesus. Sometimes I forget who I am. But, really, the truth is that God is my all in all.

How does this play out?  I told someone from my Minnesota church last summer that I had decided that I was going to take more time off because really, I was 40-years-old and it was time to do what I wanted. Now, I didn't know this person very well, and he very appropriately questioned what I meant. I mean:

• It was for freedom that Christ has set me free. I serve God, and my relationship and service to my supervisor and co-workers is a reflection of that – but not taking the time off that my organization gives me because of fear of disapproval or misunderstandings is not right.
• God has beautiful ways of doing things, and wants me to live abundantly, spending time with family and friends both in rest and service to them.
• God has actually designed me to work better with periods of rest, both in the day, week, and year. There is wisdom in living within the rhythms of life.
• While it is true that I have been created for good works (Ephesians 2:10) I have been created to do these works in multiple contexts, not just at my job.
• My heart (again, when I'm fully me) is to do what God wills. I have tasted and seen that God is good -- over and over. So when I say that I'm going to do what I want, I mean what God has for me. And remember, it's been just Jesus and me for a long time.
• Until this earth is fully redeemed/renewed/remade (depending on your eschatology), there will constantly be a lot of work to be done that seems urgent (the Bible seems to indicate work even on the New Earth, but I don't think the sense of urgency will be there). Just because I see a need it does not mean that I am necessarily the one to fill it. My role may be to find the right person to do it. Or weep for the injustice and hardness in the world. Or pray that others will be inspired to get involved. Or wait.
• God is sovereign, and the work that needs to be done will get done:

1) likely much better if I work in God's way

2) possibly regardless, because God can do that

3) I will be living out the glory of God as I trust.

So, I don't know. Tonight I wrote a whole joyous Facebook note about being free and running and loving where I am in life. Jesus was in there the whole time. I didn't say his name, though. And maybe I should have; I'm still thinking about this. If you didn't see Jesus in that post, I'd be happy to expand on it, just like I did with Charlie at the church retreat last summer.

Grand Goave, southern Haiti, part 4

Those of us staying in the village (three trainers and two interns) were given a “first breakfast” of boiled plantains and yams. This was served with a different sauce each day, sometimes with fish or hot dogs in it. Our “second breakfast” was later in the day with the Training of Trainers (TOT) participants, and was spaghetti nearly every day. This is a traditional Haitian breakfast, and we were offered canned tomato paste, ketchup, Tobasco, and mayonnaise for toppings. Lunch was rice and beans with either fried chicken legs or a meat and vegetable sauce.

After the participants went back to their mountain homes, we would pack up from the day (we emptied out the training center, a local church, each night), discuss the day, walk down the back of the mountain to get water, bathe.

Above is one of our master trainers, Erigeur, with the indefatigable Gena.

Here is the local watering hole: kids collecting water in buckets on the left, people of all ages bathing on the right (including me the day before -- every other day I elected to bucket bathe on top of the mountain).

Then we were served my favorite meal of the day: labouyi. This is a porridge made of plantains, milk, and sugar. Mmmm..... They turned on a generator for an hour or so, then it was bedtime.

Above you can see an intense game of dominos being played (center) and a girl having her hair done (left). The guys are wearing hats because it's cold.

We stayed in a one-room cabin which was normally used as a meeting room and which, as you can see, allowed all the cool air to blow in. It wasn't so bad at 8 pm (the time of this picture), but got really chilly as the night wore on. The first night none of us really slept due to the cold and pain -- most of us were sleeping almost directly on the concrete. And have I mentioned the donkeys and their bizarre, loud braying? The second night we hung up extra sheets to block the wind, and we were loaned hooded sweatshirts and more blankets and padding. I should have taken an early morning pic of my fellow trainers looking like mummies -- covered from head to toe to block out the cold.

At the end of one of the days I used up my laptop battery correcting one of the supplements we use. A lot of our materials need revision, and this one was difficult to read due to several translation and spelling errors. I could have revised materials every evening if I would have charged up my laptop while the generator was running each night. (One night I did request to charge my cell phone – they had to remove one of the 13 cell phones that were plugged in at the house with the generator to make room for mine.)

I didn't ever re-charge my computer, though. Our days were already long, and I was really tired at the end of every day – when I wasn't facilitating a lesson I was interpreting everything (both what the facilitators said and all of the participants' comments) for our Canadian interns.

So, I thought I might end up here (one of many tiny cemeteries dotting the landscape) due to my rigorous schedule of late. However, the mountain air and walks were so refreshing -- God is gracious and his love is never ending!

There were lots of challenges with this training. Several of the participants had a hard time grasping the volunteer nature of our program. In addition, I think a lot of them went away thinking that Community Health Evangelism (CHE) is exclusively spiritual. This happens a lot – people either think that all we do is community health and development, or all we do is evangelism. It takes a mental shift for people to see that, in a kingdom of God mindset, they can all happen together. This mental shift can happen during a TOT, and many of our lessons are about the holistic nature of the gospel and examples of how CHE works practically.

Yay! Here we all are at the end of the training! And one final big thanks to Lydia Hamilton, who took most of the pics in this blog post.

Grand Goave, southern Haiti, part 3

Adorable children! These girls frequently stood outside the building where we had the training and often would start dancing when they perceived that they were being watched. ;-)

At one point we separated the class into two groups to put the steps to implement a Community Health Evangelism program in order. Then a couple of "moderators" from each group were chosen to look at the other group's responses as they were discussed.

It got a little heated! Each group wanted more "right" answers (not really the spirit we were going for).


Above you can see Gena (pink shirt) laughing at it all. She got our water every day (see the first post in this series), something that was one of her daily tasks anyway for her extended family.


This is where Gena lives with her extended family, which includes her uncle, a prominent leader in the community and our host. We stayed right next door.

Above you can see another donkey. Again, I would like to ask, what is up with the braying?

Once more I would like to thank Lydia Hamilton who took most of the pictures used in this post.