Port au Prince.

We visited last week. The goal of our trip was two fold. One, we planned to pick up the generator. That’s right!!! It’s been paid for, the wire transfer complete, and simply waiting for us to pick up. This generator is plan G, as it’s one OTB bought in PAP.  This was purchased using funds from the rotary club, in addition to donors who gave as well. (The other generator that nwhcm bought for the entire campus (including a school and housing for teams) won’t make it’s way to us until Christmas time.) Hence why we are on plan G with this new generator. When we arrived in Port au Prince, we learned that the huge army truck that was needed to haul this thing all the way to port de paix was not ready!! We were told it had “cleared customs” and was ready to go. Well, it did clear customs, but still did not have the necessary paperwork to legally drive. And so, we wait. We were told it would be ready by the 30th, then that turned into the 1st, then that turned into the 4th. This is Haiti afterall, and we don’t believe things until we see them with our own eyes!!

The second reason we went down there was to check out a potential partner organization. OTB is deciding if the Lord wants another kitchen in Haiti. And, since this is Haiti, it takes a long time to do anything. So, we are simply meeting with other NGO’s in Haiti-all over Haiti-and seeing if there is a possibility of partnership. We very much want to wait until the pdp kitchen is up and running before we move forward with another kitchen in Haiti. In the meantime, we will start some very preliminary conversations.

We were so thankful for the opportunity to see more of Haiti. God provided safety as we traveled, and we praise Him for it. Port of Prince is a big city-much bigger than Port de Paix-and that city is a lot to take in. Please continue to keep the hundreds of thousands of people in prayer there. They are living in difficult and uncomfortable situations because they have no where else to go. They are moving on with life, trying to make the most of what might seem like an impossible situation. You can see shops set up all along the streets, in front of piles of rubble. Vendors are walking around selling anything and everything. People are hopeful and trying to move on.

Tent cities are everywhere in PAP

And yet, life goes on. Amidst piles of rubble on almost every street, people are still selling, buying, living.

These are my favorite. We don't have these sweet beasts in pdp.. I'm so jealous.

The palace.

Sanitation was already an issue before the quake, and now trash seems to accumulate all too quickly in too many places.

Sugarcane. It's in abundance here!

It is heartbreaking to see this sight down so many streets in PAP. And yet, life goes on right in the middle of it. Haitians are tough and resilient.

Meet Rose. She’s a Haitian woman, married, with seven kids. God has blessed them with the ability to take care of their seven children-including the ability to send them to school, and even two are in college. She doesn’t just use the money God has blessed her with to help her own family, she seeks to find those who need help. And she has found them right in her own neighborhood. Rose feeds about twenty kids ranging from young kids to young adults. She usually feeds them once a day. Once she started doing this, she discovered that several of the younger children didn’t have parents to take care of them. No wonder they were coming to her looking for a meal to eat. So what did Rose do?  Nothing short of what Jesus would do.. she took them in. She converted an extra room they had next to a small shop they own, and made a place for them to sleep. Them. Now there are seven children that usually sleep there at night, because they don’t have anywhere else to go. She can’t just feed them once a day, knowing they pry won’t get food from anywhere else. So, she tries to feed these children three meals a day.  We met Rose through some new friends we’ve made, who teach English right across the street from us. (What a huge blessing they are!!) They introduced us to Rose, and the whole family. As we sat in their home listening to what they are doing, I couldn’t help but cry. Tears flowed as I tried to explain to her in Creole how much I love to hear her heart and all what she is doing for those kids. She started cry too, and told me “how can I not help when I see how much they need it”. What a heart of gold. We hope that OTB can help.  OTB can offer her the opportunity to feed more kids.  And since she just so happens to love the Lord, she can not only tell them about His love for them, but continue to show them how much He loves them by her actions.

Grocery shopping. While I usually don’t mind this task in the States (I know, most of you gals out there just hate it) it is a beast I have not been looking forward to tackling. I am not sure how things work yet, to take on this venture alone. Sure, I can get my point across and tell people what I need, but when they talk back to me I don’t get half of it. So, I asked to go with my neighbor (and I drug our great interpreter Edril with us too.) She is so sweet, and so kind to Brandon and I. Plus, she speaks no English, so it forces me to learn.   My list wasn’t long really. I just needed rice, eggs, butter, garlic, onions, fruit, and ingredients for Haitian spaghetti.  I was pretty excited to venture down town to the open air market. I felt ready with my sun hat and shopping bag. We walked around through a huge maze of people. I had a hard time deciding where to look-at the different food sprawled out over tables and the floor, or people passing by selling things from baskets on their heads, or men mowing people down with their huge wheelbarrows full of goods, or the huge puddles and ditches filled with questionable things that snaked through every single street. My sweet neighbor would look behind at me to make sure I didn’t get swallowed up or ran over. I loved watching her as she would walk through the market scanning the whole area for what we needed. I was confused because it seemed that there was only about 7 different types of booths. Yet, there are ‘booths’ down several streets packed in right next to each other. They all seems to be selling the same thing- Produce stand, rice/beans/grains stand, household items stand, meat stand, fish stand, misc stand, canned goods stand. Then, when she would see something she liked we would stop. And let the haggling begin! I couldn’t pick up everything she said, but I got a lot from body language… and she was good. We walked away from items twice, and once even had a woman come find us down the next street with a pineapple! I did feel sorry for her though, cause one vendor asked if the items were for her or me. I felt like responding something snide back in creole, but instead used some self-control. I know that I will pay more because of the color of my skin (which is a whole separate issue) but it’s not fair that she has to simply because she is with me.

Anywhoo, we made our way through the part I was dreading the most-the meat section. I can’t help but chuckle, hours later, as I tell you this.  We walked in between two stands where the men were hacking away some kind of meat, and I hold my breath and look down as I walked quickly. Splat!! Something smacked my neck and I let out a half gag and half laugh as I pull off a small piece of meat from my neck. I keep moving. When we have to pass it again to get out, I decide I am going to conquer my fears and stare at what is lumped on the tables. I know my vegetarian friends would gag, but even those hearty red meat lovers would be weak in the knees. Before my eyes was a huge table that was holding the massacre of I am not sure what. The first thing I saw was a ‘moving’ stack of meat. Yes, there are so many flies on all of the meat, it looks alive.  Then, I saw a brain. How did I know it was that? Well, they had nicely arranged it just how it is supposed to look inside of the animals head, so I could tell exactly what it was. Next? A long bone that looked see through. After that, I stopped looking. I thought my Vietnamese friends would have been so proud of me, I had my poker face on the whole time-giving the allusion that seeing all that was completely normal for me and not a problem at all. Later, much to my added revulsion, I noticed three small chunks of meat of my skirt and chuckled again to myself as I scraped them off.  But, the day was not complete until the final lap on our way out. I was scanning the tables soaking in all I could, when I felt a wet squishy sensation on my left foot. Yup, my first full foot submersion in a puddle of death. For those of you who don’t know-puddles are a very common thing in Haiti. But, there are some puddles, that if you step in them, you might just drop down dead. This one was somewhere in between. I didn’t want to be dramatic, afterall, I wanted to be invited back to market day. So, I casually walked a little while longer with black funk oozing between all my toes. When we came to a clearing where we could stop I found a girl selling small bags of water. I paid her, ripped it open and poured it on my foot. I felt instantly better. Yet, suddenly, I was very aware that almost all the people around me had dirty feet from the mud around us, and I was that white person-pouring drinking water that most can’t even afford to drink, on my feet. So, I tried to gracefully recover and casually strolled away. Oh, thank you market day. The things you taught me today are endless!!

Thankfully, we have a pretty uneventful trip back to report. God was gracious in getting us here quickly and safely.  We returned home to a campus that had been painted, cleaned more, and still had construction going on. Our interpreter, Edril, ran things wonderfully while we were gone. He had someone clean both our house and the kitchen. Since they both have a whole sections that are “outdoor”, dust (okay, more like soot from the neighbors who burn trash right next to us) and it gathers rather quickly. It was so wonderful to come home to a clean place! We are unpacking and getting readjusted to the heat. I didn’t think it could get much hotter than July-but I stand to be corrected! Yikes. As long as I can resign myself to the fact that it’s normal to have sweat dripping down me all day long, I do pretty well. Also, we do have running water, and unlike the majority of my neighbors, I get to take a shower at night in my house. I’m not sure whether to feel guilty about this or enjoy it. For now, my heart is just very thankful.

What is the most American thing to do??

“Take me out to the ball game.. take me out to the crowd….”

It was a delayed birthday celebration for my brother’s birthday, and what a perfect last night home.  I have to admit, as cheesy as it sounds, I did shed a few tears when we sang the national anthem. Living in another country has made me appreciate so many things I have taken advantage of. I am thankful for this beautiful country we live in. Each country has it’s own individual problems, and our problems are very different problems than Haiti’s-but I have come to appreciate that land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Go Padres!!