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.
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
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...
Monday, January 18, 2010
God's clarity or my insanity?
I've been looking at my children a lot lately. I walk around in a fog. Contemplating. As someone put it...I am physically here in America but my heart and spirit are in Haiti. It is physically difficult to exist knowing that a part of me is not doing well. The bible says it the best...when one part suffers, all the other parts suffer with it. I know for some, we are dying inside. We are grief stricken, some depressed, others helpless, we are weak yet trying to be strong and faithful..looking for the silver lining and a time to catch our breath.
I look at my children. I am looking them over with different eyes. What are my children wearing? Why do they have so many clothes? They have more clothes than me. What are they saying? What are they talking about? What are they interested in? Are they too self centered? Do they watch too much television? Will they be compassionate people when they grow up? What matters in their little world right now? AND THEN I ask myself. Well, who needs me more? The people in Haiti or my own flesh and blood. I ask myself, at what price am I willing to go and help? I have heard stories..maybe fables?...tall tales I pray...of the earthquake...of volunteers being shot at and some killed. As I'm shaking my head in disbelief, my sadness and empathy turn to anger and disgust. Biting the hand that feeds you? Come on! But couldn’t this be me? Couldn’t I go into Haiti with my heart gushing, desperate to help and to encourage and end up medi-vac'd out or worse...dead?
I last went to Haiti more than 10 years ago. Even then, my friends and new acquaintances could tell that I was "not from around there". They would ask me where I was from and take turns guessing. They would say Guadeloupe? Martinique? Why you ask...because of my accent, the way I dressed, the way my skin looked and the texture of my hair, my feet, even the heels of my feet and the whites of my eyes! My whole demeanor, posture, all of it was a dead giveaway. They did not recognize me or accept me as one of their own. Another young university student in Haiti once asked why I came to Haiti. I told him that I came with my church as an intern. What he said in response to that I will never forget. He said, " You are Stooopeeed, You left der U-niiiiigh states to come to dees gabeeege Kontwee?" (you are stupid, you left the united states to come to this garbage country?!). I didn’t feel bad that he said that to me or the fact that I was there at all. I wondered though...do other Haitians feel this way? I know many are wondering why is Haiti the way that it is? Are we wasting money and resources on this "garbage country"? Some are like yes lets help but whoa, whoa, whoa...many years of help? That's not our problem.
So, here I am, mother of two toddlers 3 and 1. I am faced with a true dilemma. What IF I go to Haiti? I have friends who see how badly I want to go and they say, I am praying that you get to go. I have friends who are saying, I hope you get to go, Katty. And when I actually hear that people GET me and know how hot this desire burns on my heart...I AM AFRAID.
I look at my children with all of this in my heart. I say to myself, they have the world at their feet. They are beautiful, they are intelligent, they will have every opportunity available to them. The world will deny them nothing. What about the children in Haiti? What about the mothers in Haiti? What about the sons and the fathers who do love their country, who are proud to be Haitians, who are proud of the victory they had when they fought and WON for their freedom. It didn’t hit me till recently that the Haitian people have been FREE from slavery for the last 206 years (Jan 1,1804). 61 years (Dec 18,1865) longer than blacks in the America. This means an entire generation of Haitians were free before the first black slaves were free in America. It was because of the Haitian revolution that any talk of freedom could be had. It was because of Haiti and help from the Haitians that other nations fought for their freedom and won. I don’t know enough of my Caribbean/Haitian history to expound but I will be doing some homework and we can have a book report. The dates are solid though and the facts amazing.
In 1994, I was interviewed by a young couple to go on a mission team to Haiti. I was asked all types of questions about my background and my desire to go. My response to all the questions was this...If it is God's will for me to go, who am I to stand in his way? I never said yes to anything directly. When I left the interview and thought about the possibility of me NOT going, I called some friends. I knew they had direct influence on the results, and I made sure they knew that I wanted to go.Not going was not an option. The interviewers called me shortly thereafter and said they were surprised because they really couldn't read me. They wanted me on the team but weren’t going to invite me.Thank God I spoke up. I have that same sick feeling in my heart. I want to go. I need to go.
So why am I contemplating all this? If I "get to go", I may quite possibly be saying goodbye to my family and friend for the last time. Saying goodbye to my husband and children forever. If I return, I return to my country as foreigner,a guest,a traveler. Am I willing to die for my people? Why shouldn’t I be? Is it insane to want to? Should I leave that up to someone else? Another nation? If I and others won't...then who will...who should? This is a real question. Who decided when the Haitians would get their independence? Was it a plan or were they met with insurmountable odds and opportunity? I know there are individuals living the answer daily. I don’t yet have an answer.
I look at my children. I am looking them over with different eyes. What are my children wearing? Why do they have so many clothes? They have more clothes than me. What are they saying? What are they talking about? What are they interested in? Are they too self centered? Do they watch too much television? Will they be compassionate people when they grow up? What matters in their little world right now? AND THEN I ask myself. Well, who needs me more? The people in Haiti or my own flesh and blood. I ask myself, at what price am I willing to go and help? I have heard stories..maybe fables?...tall tales I pray...of the earthquake...of volunteers being shot at and some killed. As I'm shaking my head in disbelief, my sadness and empathy turn to anger and disgust. Biting the hand that feeds you? Come on! But couldn’t this be me? Couldn’t I go into Haiti with my heart gushing, desperate to help and to encourage and end up medi-vac'd out or worse...dead?
I last went to Haiti more than 10 years ago. Even then, my friends and new acquaintances could tell that I was "not from around there". They would ask me where I was from and take turns guessing. They would say Guadeloupe? Martinique? Why you ask...because of my accent, the way I dressed, the way my skin looked and the texture of my hair, my feet, even the heels of my feet and the whites of my eyes! My whole demeanor, posture, all of it was a dead giveaway. They did not recognize me or accept me as one of their own. Another young university student in Haiti once asked why I came to Haiti. I told him that I came with my church as an intern. What he said in response to that I will never forget. He said, " You are Stooopeeed, You left der U-niiiiigh states to come to dees gabeeege Kontwee?" (you are stupid, you left the united states to come to this garbage country?!). I didn’t feel bad that he said that to me or the fact that I was there at all. I wondered though...do other Haitians feel this way? I know many are wondering why is Haiti the way that it is? Are we wasting money and resources on this "garbage country"? Some are like yes lets help but whoa, whoa, whoa...many years of help? That's not our problem.
So, here I am, mother of two toddlers 3 and 1. I am faced with a true dilemma. What IF I go to Haiti? I have friends who see how badly I want to go and they say, I am praying that you get to go. I have friends who are saying, I hope you get to go, Katty. And when I actually hear that people GET me and know how hot this desire burns on my heart...I AM AFRAID.
I look at my children with all of this in my heart. I say to myself, they have the world at their feet. They are beautiful, they are intelligent, they will have every opportunity available to them. The world will deny them nothing. What about the children in Haiti? What about the mothers in Haiti? What about the sons and the fathers who do love their country, who are proud to be Haitians, who are proud of the victory they had when they fought and WON for their freedom. It didn’t hit me till recently that the Haitian people have been FREE from slavery for the last 206 years (Jan 1,1804). 61 years (Dec 18,1865) longer than blacks in the America. This means an entire generation of Haitians were free before the first black slaves were free in America. It was because of the Haitian revolution that any talk of freedom could be had. It was because of Haiti and help from the Haitians that other nations fought for their freedom and won. I don’t know enough of my Caribbean/Haitian history to expound but I will be doing some homework and we can have a book report. The dates are solid though and the facts amazing.
In 1994, I was interviewed by a young couple to go on a mission team to Haiti. I was asked all types of questions about my background and my desire to go. My response to all the questions was this...If it is God's will for me to go, who am I to stand in his way? I never said yes to anything directly. When I left the interview and thought about the possibility of me NOT going, I called some friends. I knew they had direct influence on the results, and I made sure they knew that I wanted to go.Not going was not an option. The interviewers called me shortly thereafter and said they were surprised because they really couldn't read me. They wanted me on the team but weren’t going to invite me.Thank God I spoke up. I have that same sick feeling in my heart. I want to go. I need to go.
So why am I contemplating all this? If I "get to go", I may quite possibly be saying goodbye to my family and friend for the last time. Saying goodbye to my husband and children forever. If I return, I return to my country as foreigner,a guest,a traveler. Am I willing to die for my people? Why shouldn’t I be? Is it insane to want to? Should I leave that up to someone else? Another nation? If I and others won't...then who will...who should? This is a real question. Who decided when the Haitians would get their independence? Was it a plan or were they met with insurmountable odds and opportunity? I know there are individuals living the answer daily. I don’t yet have an answer.
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