Frustration was growing in our evening meeting. Each night we had a debrief to discuss the days events. In this particular meeting we came to realize that the one doctor on our team would possibly be leaving the following afternoon. This would severly impact the works of the next few days. The group could not consult with patients if there was no doctor on duty. Our doctor was willing to start the day earlier and work hard for half a day. Our Host/coordinator was showing some reluctance. The group cautiously offered suggestions. All were in favor of starting earlier. All were in favor of going hard for half a day. Another team of doctors would not be on sight after her departure for almost 3 days. The doctor and coordinator went back and forth like tennis match. Each carefully giving their reasons and stating their position. They were not yelling or fighting but you could feel the tension in the air.
As we are watching this unfold there was the faint sound of a large commercial plane in the air but it was night time and unlikely that a plane would be flying over Haiti at that time. The plane was getting closer and closer and louder. At once all of our eyes were as large as saucers. It wasn’t a plane! It was an aftershock snaking up the mountain. We all stood up and raced down the stairs. We were on the second floor of a concrete structure. I was looking around and running for my life. We all were.
It was just seconds to get down the stairs and out of the house. I remember vividly as we were rounding the corner of the stairs and going down, I didn’t hear anyone talking or screaming. No crying. Only giggles. The little orphans were all, collectively giggling. This was exciting and fun for them. They had not seen the destruction nor death in Port-au-prince. They had not smelled any stench. As a matter of fact, that area is reported to only have suffered 4 deaths as a result of the earthquake. They were way up high in Fort Jacques/Calbasse. This was like a school fire drill to them. No imminent danger in sight. Just a drill. A nice break. Fun. I felt a little silly myself until my friend said her legs were shaking. Mine were shaking too. My whole body was shaking. It was just a drill, just a warning from the earth.
So many people were caught off guard just as we were, sitting around talking, eating, showering, sleeping, working. They must have heard that "plane" and not paid it any mind until it seemed it was right overhead. Some in my group said that they felt the house tremble. I didn't feel anything. I just heard the warning from the earth. The moans from within were like the tinkering of a ruthless killer at a bedroom window, showing his face before he strikes, no remorse, arrogant, full of hate.
This moment was frightening and exhilarating all at the same time for me. I, like the children, was not familiar with the face of this killer. I did not know, first hand, the destruction and heartache associated with this sound. Many are submissive to this sound, they are traumatized and gripped with fear whenever they hear it. I see why now. They should be.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Round Trip Ticket
While in Haiti, I cried a total of 3 times. The first time occurred while wrapping up our first day of serving the displaced earthquake victims. It seemed out of nowhere a man appeared with an 18month old baby boy. About the same age and size as my daughter. The child was in distress. He couldn't breathe. His eyes were rolling into the back of his head. Right away our only physician on duty went into action. She said don't let him fall asleep! Keep him upright! She was patting his back and asking that we find a suction bulb for his nose. We searched frantically but could did not have any. He was in bad shape. You could hear the congestion in his nose and chest. His eyes still rolling. Then she yelled. He's seizing! He began vomiting. All I could think of was God...Please don’t let this baby die. One of the young men extended his hand and just did what he knew to do. He began to pray. I put my arm around him, then another joined the hold and another...They prayed. My mind froze. All I could do is cry at the sight of this child near death and at the sound of their prayers. The doctor said all he needed was a nebulizer and oxygen. We were under a hot tarp on the side of a mountain. We had no life saving instruments. We could only offer a ride to the hospital. A group of Spaniard doctors picked up where we left off. He was somewhat stable at the hand off. Though we all wondered and prayed, we never learned the outcome of this child's ordeal.
The second time I cried was when I said goodbye to some of my orphaned friends.Christina, a 3 year old. Sony, an 8 year old wise guy. Carlo, a hip teen. Maroul, a wide eyed, sweet soul,8 and her sister Sarah 10. I learned firsthand from Maroul that their mother nor father was dead. They were abandoned. Woodnor and Jonas. I wanted to take them all home with me. As I hugged them a lump filled my chest. I choked down the cry and tried desperately to hide my tears.
The third time was while I was administering over the counter meds and vitamins to a group of people. A woman on my line was explaining her ailment to me. I always spoke of the earthquake experience in terms of "we". I told her what you are suffering from seems to be stress related. Many of us are having trouble sleeping since the earthquake. I can give you these pills but what you need to do is try to rest, pray and think of other things. She began to cry. I cried with her and held her in my arms. I felt in that moment, what will all these pills do for her? For anyone on this line? These sandwiches? What will they do to make a real difference for these people? When we broke our embrace. She wiped her face and with dignity and complete composure she said. If you can give me the pills for my headaches and the vitamins that will be fine. I gave her the bags and she went on her way. Why was I crying? Yes, it hurt to feel powerless. To feel that there was no significant change I could offer these people right away. Wishing I was richer, wiser, more influential. When I left that baby boy, those orphans, that woman and the countless other moments, no matter how bad or gruesome, the fact was I had a roundtrip ticket in my pocket. I had an easy life back in the USA. I owned a home, 2 cars,had a job, food, water and shelter. My daughters will each be sleeping in their own beds in their own room. I will end the day scraping the food from their plates into the garbage. Who am I to cry when none of these people are crying? They are not feeling sorry for themselves. They are boiling water in pots with salt and spices to make rice outside on an open fire. They are carrying buckets of water to a semi-private area and bathing themselves, getting dressed everyday and living. They are doing what they can to survive. Why am I crying? The time for crying is over. The shock of the earthquake is turning into many a Haitians' reality. Now there is much to do. There are real sacrifices to make and real lives that need changing. They can't say, next stop,or click their heals or up and up and away. This is their reality. I know many are feeling the call. The tug at the heart and mind that says, I can do more. I can do something.
The second time I cried was when I said goodbye to some of my orphaned friends.Christina, a 3 year old. Sony, an 8 year old wise guy. Carlo, a hip teen. Maroul, a wide eyed, sweet soul,8 and her sister Sarah 10. I learned firsthand from Maroul that their mother nor father was dead. They were abandoned. Woodnor and Jonas. I wanted to take them all home with me. As I hugged them a lump filled my chest. I choked down the cry and tried desperately to hide my tears.
The third time was while I was administering over the counter meds and vitamins to a group of people. A woman on my line was explaining her ailment to me. I always spoke of the earthquake experience in terms of "we". I told her what you are suffering from seems to be stress related. Many of us are having trouble sleeping since the earthquake. I can give you these pills but what you need to do is try to rest, pray and think of other things. She began to cry. I cried with her and held her in my arms. I felt in that moment, what will all these pills do for her? For anyone on this line? These sandwiches? What will they do to make a real difference for these people? When we broke our embrace. She wiped her face and with dignity and complete composure she said. If you can give me the pills for my headaches and the vitamins that will be fine. I gave her the bags and she went on her way. Why was I crying? Yes, it hurt to feel powerless. To feel that there was no significant change I could offer these people right away. Wishing I was richer, wiser, more influential. When I left that baby boy, those orphans, that woman and the countless other moments, no matter how bad or gruesome, the fact was I had a roundtrip ticket in my pocket. I had an easy life back in the USA. I owned a home, 2 cars,had a job, food, water and shelter. My daughters will each be sleeping in their own beds in their own room. I will end the day scraping the food from their plates into the garbage. Who am I to cry when none of these people are crying? They are not feeling sorry for themselves. They are boiling water in pots with salt and spices to make rice outside on an open fire. They are carrying buckets of water to a semi-private area and bathing themselves, getting dressed everyday and living. They are doing what they can to survive. Why am I crying? The time for crying is over. The shock of the earthquake is turning into many a Haitians' reality. Now there is much to do. There are real sacrifices to make and real lives that need changing. They can't say, next stop,or click their heals or up and up and away. This is their reality. I know many are feeling the call. The tug at the heart and mind that says, I can do more. I can do something.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Trip to the Moon
Have you ever been to the moon? Have you ever wondered what it would be like on the moon? I actually have sat and pondered that thought. I have watched sci-fi movie after movie and placed myself in the center of the action. What would it be like?
Going to Haiti for the first time in fifteen years, for the first time after the earthquake was like going to the moon. A place where nothing exist. Time stands still and the days are long.
It started with a non-stop flight to Santo Domingo . When we arrive we are not clear if we need to meet a contact person at the airport or make our way to the Caribe Tours bus company. We take a moment to clear our minds, take breath and then I decide to exercise my Spanish to inquire about the cost of a taxi to Caribe Tours. Not convinced by the price OR the driver I return inside the airport. I see a clean cut gentleman standing in near my party with a giant green army duffle and a clear bag which contents clearly appeared to be a tent. I walked up to him confidently thinking that maybe he was a part of the group we were meeting and asked if he was a part of our group. He said no. I asked him what group he was a part of. He said none and that he was there alone. Alone and on his way to Haiti. Would you like a ride? I went to the girls and introduced them to him. We talked for a while about why we were all there. He shared that he was meeting a team in Port-au-Prince and that we were welcome to take ride with his friend to the bus stop, about an hour away. I wouldn't dare do this had it been JFK but I didn’t think twice in Santo Domingo. We shared a common bond right off the back and this made us family. His name was Marc Baptiste. Photographer. Google him. Wow.
In the car with Marc Baptiste, his old Haitian friend, and my companions, inside an old beat up Mercedes Benz. We were in the back seat drinking up the exhaust fumes that filled the car and the surrounding air outside. This was nothing compared to what we will smell in Haiti according to the older man. Marc's friend gave us a rundown of how we should "conduct" ourselves in Haiti. The debrief was something out of raiders of the lost ark. He said we should spend the week virtually fasting. That we should not eat ANYTHING in Haiti . The whole country was filled with (in French)"Microbes". Germs. He warned us to only eat and drink when it was absolutely necessary. As I type these words, I am recovering from a nasty stomach virus. Vomiting and Diarrhea. I must have surely forgotten these pearls of wisdom. Now we are flying down the road, noisy wind and motor, we are all yelling to be heard. He continues with the debrief and says that we should wear mask because the smell is so bad. This man, who was born in Haiti, had not been back in over 30 years. His hair was permed slick and wavy. He played merengue in the car and barely spoke Creole anymore. Living in Santo Domingo he was only 150 miles from his birth country. Seemed he didn't care much to remember.
We finally make it to the bus after a crazy ride through the busy morning commute of Santo Domingo. We board the bus and are on our way. I'm killing my camera with videos of the beautiful mountains and lakes, people talking. We soon cross the border and the landscape immediately changes. It’s like crossing over into an alter existence. The mountains are brown not green. The roads are eroded and unpaved. Dust swirls around the air. It was as if no oxygen was flowing through my country. Like a human body completely depleted of all nutrients,food,water with no love,no sun and no air. Deserted. Desolate. Alone. The land itself was just sad.
As we entered in our big shiny yellow bus. We begin to see the first glimpses of the city. The crushed buildings that my aunt described as being put through a grinder. In my mind I had to wonder if a dump truck hadn't just backed up and dropped these rocks or if this were really a house once upon a time?
On our way to our final destination, I would have never imagined the wonderful and amazing people I would meet while in Haiti. I saw first hand that the world was responding to the cry of my people. There was young man,Brad,a 16 year old, who traveled alone to join our group in Haiti. There was Jackie a 40 something year old woman who came alone with her 16 year old daughter. There was Daywee and Joshua a dating couple from Vancouver.They were only 18 and 20 years old. There was Tex,Andrew and Krista,mid twenties from Ohio. Bogdan a medical resident from the Netherlands and others. I was floored by their compassion for Haiti. There were Haitians who dared not make the trip but here they were sacrificing their money,vacation time, comfort and health to offer help and a loving hand. Sitting on that bus I had to pinch myself mentally and say. I am here. I made it. I am in Haiti . I AM REALLY HERE.
Going to Haiti for the first time in fifteen years, for the first time after the earthquake was like going to the moon. A place where nothing exist. Time stands still and the days are long.
It started with a non-stop flight to Santo Domingo . When we arrive we are not clear if we need to meet a contact person at the airport or make our way to the Caribe Tours bus company. We take a moment to clear our minds, take breath and then I decide to exercise my Spanish to inquire about the cost of a taxi to Caribe Tours. Not convinced by the price OR the driver I return inside the airport. I see a clean cut gentleman standing in near my party with a giant green army duffle and a clear bag which contents clearly appeared to be a tent. I walked up to him confidently thinking that maybe he was a part of the group we were meeting and asked if he was a part of our group. He said no. I asked him what group he was a part of. He said none and that he was there alone. Alone and on his way to Haiti. Would you like a ride? I went to the girls and introduced them to him. We talked for a while about why we were all there. He shared that he was meeting a team in Port-au-Prince and that we were welcome to take ride with his friend to the bus stop, about an hour away. I wouldn't dare do this had it been JFK but I didn’t think twice in Santo Domingo. We shared a common bond right off the back and this made us family. His name was Marc Baptiste. Photographer. Google him. Wow.
In the car with Marc Baptiste, his old Haitian friend, and my companions, inside an old beat up Mercedes Benz. We were in the back seat drinking up the exhaust fumes that filled the car and the surrounding air outside. This was nothing compared to what we will smell in Haiti according to the older man. Marc's friend gave us a rundown of how we should "conduct" ourselves in Haiti. The debrief was something out of raiders of the lost ark. He said we should spend the week virtually fasting. That we should not eat ANYTHING in Haiti . The whole country was filled with (in French)"Microbes". Germs. He warned us to only eat and drink when it was absolutely necessary. As I type these words, I am recovering from a nasty stomach virus. Vomiting and Diarrhea. I must have surely forgotten these pearls of wisdom. Now we are flying down the road, noisy wind and motor, we are all yelling to be heard. He continues with the debrief and says that we should wear mask because the smell is so bad. This man, who was born in Haiti, had not been back in over 30 years. His hair was permed slick and wavy. He played merengue in the car and barely spoke Creole anymore. Living in Santo Domingo he was only 150 miles from his birth country. Seemed he didn't care much to remember.
We finally make it to the bus after a crazy ride through the busy morning commute of Santo Domingo. We board the bus and are on our way. I'm killing my camera with videos of the beautiful mountains and lakes, people talking. We soon cross the border and the landscape immediately changes. It’s like crossing over into an alter existence. The mountains are brown not green. The roads are eroded and unpaved. Dust swirls around the air. It was as if no oxygen was flowing through my country. Like a human body completely depleted of all nutrients,food,water with no love,no sun and no air. Deserted. Desolate. Alone. The land itself was just sad.
As we entered in our big shiny yellow bus. We begin to see the first glimpses of the city. The crushed buildings that my aunt described as being put through a grinder. In my mind I had to wonder if a dump truck hadn't just backed up and dropped these rocks or if this were really a house once upon a time?
On our way to our final destination, I would have never imagined the wonderful and amazing people I would meet while in Haiti. I saw first hand that the world was responding to the cry of my people. There was young man,Brad,a 16 year old, who traveled alone to join our group in Haiti. There was Jackie a 40 something year old woman who came alone with her 16 year old daughter. There was Daywee and Joshua a dating couple from Vancouver.They were only 18 and 20 years old. There was Tex,Andrew and Krista,mid twenties from Ohio. Bogdan a medical resident from the Netherlands and others. I was floored by their compassion for Haiti. There were Haitians who dared not make the trip but here they were sacrificing their money,vacation time, comfort and health to offer help and a loving hand. Sitting on that bus I had to pinch myself mentally and say. I am here. I made it. I am in Haiti . I AM REALLY HERE.
Die laughing...but die waiting?
I have spent the past few days in "silence". Silent with my thoughts. Guarding the matters in my heart. Waiting. I realize that every waking moment was spent thinking about when I would leave for Haiti. When would I have the chance to witness for myself what had been done to Haiti? Waiting, waiting. Checking and waiting. Chatting and talking but waiting. Then I get the email on Friday morning.
"If I get the funds and the contacts I will leave on Sunday.....so if I call you let me know if you can come"
My reply, of course I can come
I had nothing burning on my heart. It is in those moments that my heart is full that I need to speak. I am here now. Ready to share. I haven’t watched much news. I haven’t listened to much of the radio. I am waiting. Waiting for word on this trip. I don’t believe that God would lead me this far and not go to Haiti.
My sister came to my house on Saturday with money and a tent. She and her husband dropped everything to come and see me. If you are from Haiti, you know you can't announce your trip to everyone or else you will be laden with items to pack in your bag. Once upon a time you could bring a larger than life suitcase to Haiti. Any time I would spot one I would say, that is a Haiti Suitcase! It was long and tall usually fake brown leather and you could bring like two or three of these on the plane. They were always full of cooking oil, rice, and sometimes frozen meat, shoes, clothes, soaps. You name it. When someone heard you were going to Haiti...Watch out because soon after came the "Can you bring this to my mother?", "Can you bring this envelope to my cousin?" Can you bring this bag to my Father?". I think it was because of us that the Airport started asking...did you receive anything from someone you didn’t know.
First my sister with the money and the tent, then my brother with more money then my father with more money then my cousin with more money! I feared a bit for my safety but I couldn’t refuse the request. Sunday I went to church and said goodbye to some people. I told them I was on standby. I was right? Someone is going to call me and tell me that I am going to Haiti right? Right??? Monday I go to work. Nothing. Tuesday I got to work. Nothing. Wednesday I got to work and then to church again that night. NOTHING! People are now feeling bad for me. "I thought you left already" they would say. I put on my strong face, stretched tight and straight smile and raised eyebrows....""I'm on standby", I would tell them. What that meant I didn’t know, but it was better than trying to explain that the organization we were going with was not getting back to us and that we really weren’t sure if we were going at all. Thursday...I woke up...bags still packed. I went to work again. I chatted and emailed again. I even told people that the trip was postponed. All my friends were like maybe its not meant to be. I agreed. It wasn’t happening smoothly. It wasn’t falling into place anymore. I posted a note on my facebook to the effect that I was moving on and I was resolved. The messages and comments poured in about the prayers and how maybe it wasn’t God's will....yes, yes, yes...I know. I was resolved in my heart however. If it wasn’t meant to be, why force it and end up dead or injured. I stayed at work a little late, went to pick up my daughters from my in-laws house. Hung out there for a while. Took my time and made it home. I was going to a wake that night and possibly going to be singing a song for the late father of a dear friend. When I got home I took a shower. Googled the address for the funeral home and had about two hours to get showered and get there by 6pm. I get showered and wrap a towel around my body. Then...the phone rings. Its my dear friend the doctor. She says "I have good news" I knew at that moment that I was going to Haiti. All I needed was the details. She told me there was a bus leaving for Haiti from Santo Domingo on Friday morning at 9am. My mind did the quick math. We had to leave TONIGHT! Wow. Like this? A week ago, I had a perfect schedule made out for coverage at home. A friend would watch the girls for me, my sister would cook a meal for Eric, my niece would sleep over to watch the girls, and my in-laws would pick them up on Friday. I did laundry and the house was spic and span. A week ago. It was later that week now and I cancelled my niece because I was sure I wasn’t going. I let the house go a bit and my friend was working early the next morning. Instead, my husband had to take the next day off, there was a snow storm coming, I had to drive an hour and a half to JFK airport instead of Newark, I had to pay 2x's as much for my ticket and I just got my period!!! All of this just hours before I was leaving for earthquake torn, no water, hot as the equator, Haiti. nooooooooooooooo! This is not how I planned it.
Time and time again I have seen that this is the way God prefers to work. Had I gone when everything was all perfect and planned perhaps I would not been as in tune with how he worked out every detail. How in those moments everything came together.
I had just few hours to get ready. It was 5pm and I would be leaving in 4 hours to get to JFK airport. Still wrapped in my towel, I sat down and booked our flights. I paid with the credit card of a team member I had never met. I sent them the itinerary. Called them and said we are leaving on the 1255am flight. TONIGHT. With that I started to get myself ready. I told my husband that I needed $200 cash, my antibiotic prescription (to give away) and a box of power bars.
I called a friend to give me a ride to the airport. Check. I called my sisters and brothers to tell them that I was definitely going. Check. I got dressed and debated whether or not to bring sandals. I left them behind. Check. I had to get the girls bathed and ready for bed without crying. Check. I gave the 3 year old a Princess Tiana flashlight to keep her busy and happy. I told her that I was going to Haiti to help the little children and their families. I told her that if she got scared she could turn on her flashlight. She was so happy. She went to be without a fuss. I sent an email to my family with website and some phone numbers and my itinerary. Send. Check. I planned to leave at 930pm. at about 915 I decided that I really should wash my hair before I left. It was filthy and I didn’t want to go with filthy hair. I stood at the sink and washed it while my friend waited. It was just one of those things I HAD to do. With hair slicked back, smelling good, dripping...I was ready to go. I asked my friend to wait outside while my husband and I took a moment to hold each other and pray on the loveseat. I drove to the airport. My hands were shaking a bit. I was hungry and didn’t get to eat anything until I got to the airport. I paid $10 for a flimsy salad. I thought...It may be my last good meal till I get back so may as well. They finally begin boarding and I realize that I forgot to call my job and tell them that I am leaving for Haiti!!!...With bags in hand, on line waiting to hand over my boarding pass...At midnight, I call my boss's cell phone and leave him a message of by the way....I'm leaving for Haiti RIGHT NOW and I wont be back until next Thursday. (He knew I was leaving just not at that moment!). I board the plane and we are OFF...I'm going to Haiti...we are OFF...I'm going to Haiti...
"If I get the funds and the contacts I will leave on Sunday.....so if I call you let me know if you can come"
My reply, of course I can come
I had nothing burning on my heart. It is in those moments that my heart is full that I need to speak. I am here now. Ready to share. I haven’t watched much news. I haven’t listened to much of the radio. I am waiting. Waiting for word on this trip. I don’t believe that God would lead me this far and not go to Haiti.
My sister came to my house on Saturday with money and a tent. She and her husband dropped everything to come and see me. If you are from Haiti, you know you can't announce your trip to everyone or else you will be laden with items to pack in your bag. Once upon a time you could bring a larger than life suitcase to Haiti. Any time I would spot one I would say, that is a Haiti Suitcase! It was long and tall usually fake brown leather and you could bring like two or three of these on the plane. They were always full of cooking oil, rice, and sometimes frozen meat, shoes, clothes, soaps. You name it. When someone heard you were going to Haiti...Watch out because soon after came the "Can you bring this to my mother?", "Can you bring this envelope to my cousin?" Can you bring this bag to my Father?". I think it was because of us that the Airport started asking...did you receive anything from someone you didn’t know.
First my sister with the money and the tent, then my brother with more money then my father with more money then my cousin with more money! I feared a bit for my safety but I couldn’t refuse the request. Sunday I went to church and said goodbye to some people. I told them I was on standby. I was right? Someone is going to call me and tell me that I am going to Haiti right? Right??? Monday I go to work. Nothing. Tuesday I got to work. Nothing. Wednesday I got to work and then to church again that night. NOTHING! People are now feeling bad for me. "I thought you left already" they would say. I put on my strong face, stretched tight and straight smile and raised eyebrows....""I'm on standby", I would tell them. What that meant I didn’t know, but it was better than trying to explain that the organization we were going with was not getting back to us and that we really weren’t sure if we were going at all. Thursday...I woke up...bags still packed. I went to work again. I chatted and emailed again. I even told people that the trip was postponed. All my friends were like maybe its not meant to be. I agreed. It wasn’t happening smoothly. It wasn’t falling into place anymore. I posted a note on my facebook to the effect that I was moving on and I was resolved. The messages and comments poured in about the prayers and how maybe it wasn’t God's will....yes, yes, yes...I know. I was resolved in my heart however. If it wasn’t meant to be, why force it and end up dead or injured. I stayed at work a little late, went to pick up my daughters from my in-laws house. Hung out there for a while. Took my time and made it home. I was going to a wake that night and possibly going to be singing a song for the late father of a dear friend. When I got home I took a shower. Googled the address for the funeral home and had about two hours to get showered and get there by 6pm. I get showered and wrap a towel around my body. Then...the phone rings. Its my dear friend the doctor. She says "I have good news" I knew at that moment that I was going to Haiti. All I needed was the details. She told me there was a bus leaving for Haiti from Santo Domingo on Friday morning at 9am. My mind did the quick math. We had to leave TONIGHT! Wow. Like this? A week ago, I had a perfect schedule made out for coverage at home. A friend would watch the girls for me, my sister would cook a meal for Eric, my niece would sleep over to watch the girls, and my in-laws would pick them up on Friday. I did laundry and the house was spic and span. A week ago. It was later that week now and I cancelled my niece because I was sure I wasn’t going. I let the house go a bit and my friend was working early the next morning. Instead, my husband had to take the next day off, there was a snow storm coming, I had to drive an hour and a half to JFK airport instead of Newark, I had to pay 2x's as much for my ticket and I just got my period!!! All of this just hours before I was leaving for earthquake torn, no water, hot as the equator, Haiti. nooooooooooooooo! This is not how I planned it.
Time and time again I have seen that this is the way God prefers to work. Had I gone when everything was all perfect and planned perhaps I would not been as in tune with how he worked out every detail. How in those moments everything came together.
I had just few hours to get ready. It was 5pm and I would be leaving in 4 hours to get to JFK airport. Still wrapped in my towel, I sat down and booked our flights. I paid with the credit card of a team member I had never met. I sent them the itinerary. Called them and said we are leaving on the 1255am flight. TONIGHT. With that I started to get myself ready. I told my husband that I needed $200 cash, my antibiotic prescription (to give away) and a box of power bars.
I called a friend to give me a ride to the airport. Check. I called my sisters and brothers to tell them that I was definitely going. Check. I got dressed and debated whether or not to bring sandals. I left them behind. Check. I had to get the girls bathed and ready for bed without crying. Check. I gave the 3 year old a Princess Tiana flashlight to keep her busy and happy. I told her that I was going to Haiti to help the little children and their families. I told her that if she got scared she could turn on her flashlight. She was so happy. She went to be without a fuss. I sent an email to my family with website and some phone numbers and my itinerary. Send. Check. I planned to leave at 930pm. at about 915 I decided that I really should wash my hair before I left. It was filthy and I didn’t want to go with filthy hair. I stood at the sink and washed it while my friend waited. It was just one of those things I HAD to do. With hair slicked back, smelling good, dripping...I was ready to go. I asked my friend to wait outside while my husband and I took a moment to hold each other and pray on the loveseat. I drove to the airport. My hands were shaking a bit. I was hungry and didn’t get to eat anything until I got to the airport. I paid $10 for a flimsy salad. I thought...It may be my last good meal till I get back so may as well. They finally begin boarding and I realize that I forgot to call my job and tell them that I am leaving for Haiti!!!...With bags in hand, on line waiting to hand over my boarding pass...At midnight, I call my boss's cell phone and leave him a message of by the way....I'm leaving for Haiti RIGHT NOW and I wont be back until next Thursday. (He knew I was leaving just not at that moment!). I board the plane and we are OFF...I'm going to Haiti...we are OFF...I'm going to Haiti...
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