Hello from Haiti!

Hello from Haiti!  We are limited to words...we wish we could share the sights, sounds, smells, feelings and emotions we have experienced. It is our goal to make our experience as real as we can for you.  The adjective that best describes everything about this week is INTENSE.  As we approached Haiti in the air, the beauty of the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea and the island were incredible.  A tropical paradise.  An unexpected sight.  This, was such a contrast to what we were about to experience once on the ground.  

To be honest, after 2 days, I felt a very strong urge to go home.  I knew Haiti was the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, but I didn't know what that looked like.  I shared my feelings with our team, and one member suggested waiting a day to make my decision.  The next day we had the opportunity to attend a local Haitian church service.  On the way to church, I talked with God about needing to make my decision and for His help.  Reflecting back, God seemed to really be talking to us.  Any effort that is for His purpose, always bears fruit. You will never grow unless you step out and trust God.  That was it, I had my answer.  God wants me here and He has got us covered.  It's not about us, but what our purpose is here.  I am a "safety susie."  To be here in Haiti is not by my doing.  This is way out of my "box."  

For me, Val, my specific role for this time in Haiti is to represent the Education committee for LTR.  Much of my time is being spent in the orphanage that LTR is connected with here in the heart of Port au Prince.  Again the word intense comes to mind.  As our team stepped through the metal gate to enter the orphanage we were greeted by Mama with such graciousness despite her compromised living conditions.  Mama is this incredible 70 something year old Haitian woman that radiates warmth and love.  Every day, 24/7, she cares for approximately 50 children in a tremendously challenging environment.  With the help of Mama's immediate family, each of these beautiful children have a safe place to exist in the midst of such devastation.   Then there's the children!  They are precious and beautiful, hungry for physical touch, hot and sticky from the Haiti heat, physically hungry with their distended tummies, and yet they are joyful and they are God's children.  Some smile and some cannot.  Some have parents and some do not.  All the children have their own unique life story that we may never know.  For Monday, June 27th I made this journal entry, "The Bastien family (Mama's family) is such a kind hearted family, so bright, so nice looking---Frantz and his sister's speak some English.  I wonder what their true potential is and I wonder if they will every have a chance to reach it.  Their challenge is just everyday life.  Finding food, keeping the water coming in, finding a way to make money in a 90% unemployed city and staying safe."  These same thoughts go with the children as well.  So many eager, enthusiastic children but their environment doesn't allow the potential to come out.  

I was surprised by just how little space there was at the orphanage.  The first day we brought jump ropes along and realized it was very hard to find room to play.  However it did not seem to be a hindrance to the fun we had.  The floor is rugged, crumbled concrete.  The roof over the main activity area is simply a worn out tarp.  There are separate girls and boys sleeping rooms that do have a tin roof for protection.  The hardest thing to see is that, for safety reasons, the children don't have the chance to run and play outside.   There are many encouraging aspects that have been evident.  Mama will start all the kids with a song for them to join in singing.  The joy that is shown is incredible.  We see some 'spunky' behavior such as Natacha, a sweet little preschool aged girl, leading the whole group of kids, singing, dancing, laughing.  Marie Clare, who has some sort of visual impairment, is extremely malnourished.  And then she brings this great surprise by counting past 200 and revealing her ability to identify color on the developmental assessment that was given to each child individually over the course of the days we have been here.  The children would crowd around us as we were doing each assessment with eagerness for their name to be called so they could 'show their stuff'.  It is so evident that they crave individual attention.  One of the most rewarding things is that we have begun a relationship with the Bastien family.  Even with the language barrier that exists, we are able to have unbelievable communication with them, laugh with them, and let them know that their help was so valuable to us as we hope and pray that what we are doing is a benefit to them.   

How exciting it has been to see what God has brought for each day, new emotions, new anticipations, new people across our paths.  The bond our team has formed since arriving in Haiti has been icing on the cake for this experience.  

There are so many needs.  The task of prioritizing them is the next challenge. We realize that things don't happen overnight, especially here in Haiti. The best approach will be to ask God to guide and direct the discussion and decisions that are to come.  We hope our efforts here are beneficial to the next team that travels to Haiti, to have a baseline of information and carry on from here.  God is good!

(As Barb says....Grateful!)

Val Silliman

and Christi too

Haiti Experience

As a graduate student, I am annually blessed with the beloved Spring Break.  Throughout undergrad, I made a trip each year to some warm and southern locale – Florida, Texas, and Costa Rica.  Each trip was generally filled with typical Spring Break debauchery: libations, tanning, friends and bad decisions. 

Now that I’m a graduate student, it is time to class it up a bit.  Last year’s spring break brought me to Ireland for Guinness, sightseeing, and St. Patrick’s Day.  This year, I decided to take on a much different spring break destination: Haiti.  My connections to Haiti are great.  Not only is my hopefully-soon-to-be-brother the cutest Haitian to ever live, but my parents also incepted a foundation, along with many in my fantastically supportive hometown, that provides administrative and financial assistance to an orphanage devastated by the earthquake.  This trip to Haiti was one of learning and growth, experience and education: a far cry from spring break trips of yesteryear.

As I entered the country through the ramshackle Port au Prince airport last Friday, I was filled with a variety of emotions.  In a few seconds, I would be walking the streets of a devastated capitol city, spending my days at an orphanage protected by tarps with rooms sectioned by the few standing walls that still remained, and meeting inspiring people that would forever change my worldview.  But I also felt capable.  Capable of absorbing this experience, wandering this city, and understanding a new perspective.

I have not only witnessed but also lived in the developing world and thus expected Haiti to feel like the rest of them.  I have perceived the sadness and desperation that so comfortably partners up to a life of poverty.  I have strolled the Killing Fields and been a spectator of eerie rooms of the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum.  I have helped children into the hospital in Cambodia, unable to walk or cry or eat because they are so ill.   Food that to many seems inedible has been swallowed with a forced smile.  I have seen the name of a child I spent the past week making paper cranes with erased off of the white board in the ICU, signifying their death.   Tents as houses and shacks as shelter are things that not only have I seen, but have found refuge in myself.  But Haiti was different.

Debris, cement, and rock from a devastating earthquake more than a year ago still cover the streets.  Tent cities spread across blocks providing asylum for thousands.  There is no denying the immense loss experienced last January as you walk through the streets.  Yet, it is a country filled with hope, relationships, family and love.  One can feel the passion and resiliency rising from the rubble.  The desire to experience success, overcome adversity, to rebuild homes and lives, and to provide for those without palpates throughout the sweltering city.  The dichotomy of what you physically see and what you spiritually feel can be overwhelming and immensely empowering.

I spent the week subsisting on rice and beans, fried plantains, and tough chicken.  I’ve never enjoyed being adventurous with food and if I don’t have to eat it, I’d rather not.  The kids at the orphanage introduced us to all sorts of things through their ‘Creolenglish’.  How I wish I could pick up a language as quickly as those children.  To witness bilingual children in an orphanage when I myself, boasting a Masters degree, can only speak one, is humbling. 

Days were spent at the orphanage, handing out toothbrushes and Dum Dums (entirely Western and perfectly ironic of us, I know), school supplies and fruit snacks (Vitamin C for all!) books and t-shirts.  I sang songs until my throat hurt, played cards for hours, and greatly expanded the number of handclaps I know.  At this point, I’m pretty sure I rival any other American girl, even the 3rd graders who spend all of recess practicing and learning.  My lap and hands were fought over, something I thoroughly enjoyed.

The beaches of Jacmel were visited via curvy mountain roads through beautiful countryside.  Indeed, it is possible to live in the mountains and at the beach if you live in Haiti.  I enjoyed ice cold Prestige and the warm waters of the Caribbean, as perfectly ripe coconuts freed themselves of trees.  Jacmel provided me with a glimpse of what Haiti could be – and perhaps, was.

I have yet to process through all of the emotions and experiences of Haiti.  Sometimes, I have an aversion to sharing my experiences with others because it makes my time there seem less sacred, less important, less real, less MINE.  At other times, I feel as though I can only express this trip through contradictions and oxymoron, making it impossible for anyone to understand what the experience was like and what it meant to me.

Haiti has altered me.  If only I could alter Haiti.