The few days leading up to a volunteer trip to Haiti are always the most challenging for me. More challenging than packing up my family to go to the beach, more nerve racking than getting ready for a cruise. My checklist are numerous and loooooooooooong. Going to Haiti is such that you literally have to pack everything AND the kitchen sink. Do I have my passport? Is my will up to date? Did I leave enough money for my in-laws in case of emergency, I have to record the bedtime story book for the girls before I go to bed, Contact list for in –laws…is it printed out?, My daughter is going to kindergarten orientation while I am away..I have to lay out two outfit options for her and make sure the paper work is clipped to it for my sister-in-law who will be taking her for me. Did I pack all the pieces to the projector? Do I have the right size batteries for the speaker, should I bring my zinc or leave it? Is the house clean, gotta wipe the counter down or the ants will invade. Gotta text my cousin for my uncle in Haiti’s phone number, Reviewing, reviewing, double checking. I only got 1 hour of rest. The time was pouring out before me like sand. I couldn’t stop it. I laid down on the couch and soon I heard the chirping of my cell phone alarm. Its show time. The airport check in experience will be a bear . We have 40 pieces of luggage t o check in and I don’t want to be rude or snappy so I must breathe, Pray and remain calm for all of us.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Correspondence is good
Hello Katty,
I just got into Tampa. Email did not work well these past days in Haiti. I could not wait to get in the States to check my mail. Did you guys make it home safe?
I brought the camera one of you left back. Can you please find out whose is it? so, I can mail to you or to the person. I am only going to be in the State for a week. I must return for a meeting with the Ambassador and a rencontre with OCHA,. I am so very excited about that. I just pray something will pan out for, I can only do so much alone. Please call or email.
I would like the group email so I can thank them personally. I am still cannot believe you could pull this off. Katty, you are incredible, Words alone cannot express Pastor and I gratitude to you and all the volunteers. Gressier people were amazed that such a large group of wonderful people, would come and be with them. They are talking about you all everyday. You sure have left your mark.
Please hug Eric and the girls for me. Pastor says hi and thank you.
Love,
Marlene
Marlene Berthelot, Executive Director
Haitian Mission Par La Foi
(727) 543-0867
www.saveourhaiti.com
I just got into Tampa. Email did not work well these past days in Haiti. I could not wait to get in the States to check my mail. Did you guys make it home safe?
I brought the camera one of you left back. Can you please find out whose is it? so, I can mail to you or to the person. I am only going to be in the State for a week. I must return for a meeting with the Ambassador and a rencontre with OCHA,. I am so very excited about that. I just pray something will pan out for, I can only do so much alone. Please call or email.
I would like the group email so I can thank them personally. I am still cannot believe you could pull this off. Katty, you are incredible, Words alone cannot express Pastor and I gratitude to you and all the volunteers. Gressier people were amazed that such a large group of wonderful people, would come and be with them. They are talking about you all everyday. You sure have left your mark.
Please hug Eric and the girls for me. Pastor says hi and thank you.
Love,
Marlene
Marlene Berthelot, Executive Director
Haitian Mission Par La Foi
(727) 543-0867
www.saveourhaiti.com
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
HOME
You feel that? Like someone is blowing up a water balloon in my chest. I learned years ago from a doctor that that feeling in my chest is not my heart. I thought I was dying or at least suffering with some type of heart problem. I went to my aunt's doctor because at the time, I didn’t have one. She hooked me up to the EKG machine and then she broke the news to me. I had already finished explaining to her that I was short of breath and that nothing I did could relieve the tightness in my chest. She said to me...I'm sorry to tell you this but that feeling is not your heart...Its anxiety.
I can honestly say that in all my time in Haiti, en route on a sometimes turbulent plane, surrounded by strangers on a mountain sprinkled with voodoo paraphernalia on walls and trees, riding in a beat up truck, sucking down fumes and exhaust, sleeping outside in a tent right next to a gas run generator with boards of wood propped up as my gate, with a group of 21 people depending on me and my husband to make critical decisions, in the heat and relentless schedule...I never ONCE felt this feeling in my chest. Back in the states 3 days and my rib cages is propped up on the imaginary shelf above my diaphragm. It won’t ease down or soften. The anxiety is back.Leaving Haiti I realized that I was completely in my element when I was with the people in hills and by the beach. There was no question I was doing what I loved and enjoying every aching, tiring minute of it.
In the next couple of days and weeks, I will do my best to once again dig into my soul and paint the picture for you. It is literally a physical task for me. It is the reason I haven’t written in so long. I am working on being more consistent. Sometimes I just psych myself out and don’t want to "go there". I know it’s the going there that brings awareness and eventually interest and eventually help and more support and it is why I have returned. Notebook full of notes and points and topics to remember. Stories to remember to tell. I will try to ignore the water balloon in my chest and hopefully take many deep breaths as I put to paper the pain, the joys, the victories and heartaches of my personal experience in Haiti. I can’t and won’t speak of anyone else's personal moments good or bad so please don’t be offended if you don’t find your story here. These excerpts are from my eyes. I hope you will subscribe to this blog and help bring awareness to what is going on in Haiti. I know in the end we are all but a mist and truthfully you may ask, will any of it matter? I find great joy in using my 50-70 stretch on this earth to do what I am doing and when it’s over...well...it’s over and after that...only God Knows. I believe it matters to Him and to that end...I labor.
I can honestly say that in all my time in Haiti, en route on a sometimes turbulent plane, surrounded by strangers on a mountain sprinkled with voodoo paraphernalia on walls and trees, riding in a beat up truck, sucking down fumes and exhaust, sleeping outside in a tent right next to a gas run generator with boards of wood propped up as my gate, with a group of 21 people depending on me and my husband to make critical decisions, in the heat and relentless schedule...I never ONCE felt this feeling in my chest. Back in the states 3 days and my rib cages is propped up on the imaginary shelf above my diaphragm. It won’t ease down or soften. The anxiety is back.Leaving Haiti I realized that I was completely in my element when I was with the people in hills and by the beach. There was no question I was doing what I loved and enjoying every aching, tiring minute of it.
In the next couple of days and weeks, I will do my best to once again dig into my soul and paint the picture for you. It is literally a physical task for me. It is the reason I haven’t written in so long. I am working on being more consistent. Sometimes I just psych myself out and don’t want to "go there". I know it’s the going there that brings awareness and eventually interest and eventually help and more support and it is why I have returned. Notebook full of notes and points and topics to remember. Stories to remember to tell. I will try to ignore the water balloon in my chest and hopefully take many deep breaths as I put to paper the pain, the joys, the victories and heartaches of my personal experience in Haiti. I can’t and won’t speak of anyone else's personal moments good or bad so please don’t be offended if you don’t find your story here. These excerpts are from my eyes. I hope you will subscribe to this blog and help bring awareness to what is going on in Haiti. I know in the end we are all but a mist and truthfully you may ask, will any of it matter? I find great joy in using my 50-70 stretch on this earth to do what I am doing and when it’s over...well...it’s over and after that...only God Knows. I believe it matters to Him and to that end...I labor.
A match made in Haiti
Marlene Berthelot’s visit to the Central Jersey Church of Christ was truly inspiring. From the moment she arrived on Thursday evening the planning and discussions regarding the future began. Marlene is a savvy business woman with 20 years of experience owning and operating 3 Florida Nursing Homes. She holds a Bachelor of Science and master’s degree from Boston University. She has known the sweeter side of the American dream and even owned the Florida home of the famous Babe Ruth. She is no stranger to hard work and managing challenging and difficult situations. 36 years ago, she and co-founder Marie Jessie Pierre promised each other they would return to Haiti some day to help. This pact was made over a cup of tea.
Marlene met with volunteers and supporters to discussed her vision for the upcoming April 30th trip to Haiti. Plans include mentoring young men during a community project to construct a new park with recycled materials. There are plans for a daily women’s group to teach and train women about various health issues. Volunteers will have many opportunities to leave their mark in Gressier, Haiti. They will start planting a garden on a portion of a 15acre property donated to the orphanage by the Gressier, Parish. This will be the future site of a 60 plus bed orphanage, presently only a dream! There are other projects and plans too numerous to detail like daily eco-tours, painting of school bus, English instruction and more.
On Sunday morning, after our worship service, we viewed a CNN video briefly covering the work being done in Gressier by Marlene Berthelot with the help of volunteers from HOPE worldwide. Soon after, Marlene was introduced to the church and was presented with a banner that read “This work is supported by Hopeworldwide, Central Jersey Chapter”. It was truly an electric time and more than anyone could have hope for. In that moment it was no longer a handful of people championing this cause but an entire group united for this great and worthwhile cause. The weekend concluded with a meeting of members of our board of directors. During that time Marlene shared her heartfelt story detailing the moment she arrived to the United States 44 years ago all the way up to how the orphanage began along with the help they are seeking. When the meeting was over, it was clear that everyone now shared a passion for seeing this effort succeed. With God…anything is possible.
Marlene met with volunteers and supporters to discussed her vision for the upcoming April 30th trip to Haiti. Plans include mentoring young men during a community project to construct a new park with recycled materials. There are plans for a daily women’s group to teach and train women about various health issues. Volunteers will have many opportunities to leave their mark in Gressier, Haiti. They will start planting a garden on a portion of a 15acre property donated to the orphanage by the Gressier, Parish. This will be the future site of a 60 plus bed orphanage, presently only a dream! There are other projects and plans too numerous to detail like daily eco-tours, painting of school bus, English instruction and more.
On Sunday morning, after our worship service, we viewed a CNN video briefly covering the work being done in Gressier by Marlene Berthelot with the help of volunteers from HOPE worldwide. Soon after, Marlene was introduced to the church and was presented with a banner that read “This work is supported by Hopeworldwide, Central Jersey Chapter”. It was truly an electric time and more than anyone could have hope for. In that moment it was no longer a handful of people championing this cause but an entire group united for this great and worthwhile cause. The weekend concluded with a meeting of members of our board of directors. During that time Marlene shared her heartfelt story detailing the moment she arrived to the United States 44 years ago all the way up to how the orphanage began along with the help they are seeking. When the meeting was over, it was clear that everyone now shared a passion for seeing this effort succeed. With God…anything is possible.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Night
By sundown we had over 50 children gathered under the almond trees. And the singing began. A chant with no name, “I said a boom chica boom!” response “I said a boom chica boom”. When English is your second language this song took on many translations. “Acera boom chica boom” and it wasn’t till we all tried singing it together that the debate began…What were those kids singing? We were completely clueless as to what was going on. A woman arrived with a humongous pot of spaghetti transported in a wheelbarrow. There was a pitcher of lemonade and 2 large industrial cans of vanilla and chocolate pudding. This was dinner. The singing strengthened while the plates of food were being served. It was a wonderful scene until it began….”I didn’t get any food”, neither did I, I didn’t get any….Yes you did, you were sitting right there. No, I didn’t get any food. Yes I gave you food. Those who persisted got more while some truly may not have gotten any. We couldn’t tell after a while. This behavior applied to any level of distribution of any value; from supper to a piece of gum. Sadly, at such a young age, these kids knew all too well, that everything is about survival. You have to get as much as you can until there is nothing else to get. Thus the new rule; No one gets served until everyone is seated and no one leaves their seat until everyone is done with their meal. The children leave for the night and we get ready for our first night in the Gressier.
We trimmed our supplies down right before our departure. There were things that simply weighed too much. Denim, specialty items, and air mattresses. We took them all out and sent them with another team of volunteers who could accommodate the weight. I would have given my left foot for an air mattress then. We made due. There were some sharp objects like rocks and broken glass underneath the floor of the tent that made it hard to get comfortable. There was the baying of a nearby goat, a barking dog just randomly running though our camp, the croaking of frogs and sometimes footsteps or a cell phone ringing. We had a running joke that whatever animal we heard the night before became dinner the next day. Our theory proved to be true for the most part. If there was a sound to be heard, I believe I heard it. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t rest my mind. I was truly afraid. I had heard of and read many stories. Stories of women getting raped. Stories of gangs cutting through tents and robbing each other. I was waiting for the moment where I would have to defend myself from some perpetrator. There was a gate right beyond the yellow plastic wall. It was “secured” with a piece of wire.
Next to the gate was the row of stone latrines. The smell of raw sewage would flow through like an invisible green fume, a handkerchief flowing in the wind. It was sickening and menacing. There was no ceiling on the toilets or the showers so the smell was free of charge all day and all night. Through the watches of the night I would think…surely its morning…but it was still dark. I must have done this 5 or 6 times. I learned in the morning that most of us did. The days and nights are long in Haiti. Long when you don’t have a cool shelter to relax in by day and a comfortable bed to sleep in at night.
We trimmed our supplies down right before our departure. There were things that simply weighed too much. Denim, specialty items, and air mattresses. We took them all out and sent them with another team of volunteers who could accommodate the weight. I would have given my left foot for an air mattress then. We made due. There were some sharp objects like rocks and broken glass underneath the floor of the tent that made it hard to get comfortable. There was the baying of a nearby goat, a barking dog just randomly running though our camp, the croaking of frogs and sometimes footsteps or a cell phone ringing. We had a running joke that whatever animal we heard the night before became dinner the next day. Our theory proved to be true for the most part. If there was a sound to be heard, I believe I heard it. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t rest my mind. I was truly afraid. I had heard of and read many stories. Stories of women getting raped. Stories of gangs cutting through tents and robbing each other. I was waiting for the moment where I would have to defend myself from some perpetrator. There was a gate right beyond the yellow plastic wall. It was “secured” with a piece of wire.
Next to the gate was the row of stone latrines. The smell of raw sewage would flow through like an invisible green fume, a handkerchief flowing in the wind. It was sickening and menacing. There was no ceiling on the toilets or the showers so the smell was free of charge all day and all night. Through the watches of the night I would think…surely its morning…but it was still dark. I must have done this 5 or 6 times. I learned in the morning that most of us did. The days and nights are long in Haiti. Long when you don’t have a cool shelter to relax in by day and a comfortable bed to sleep in at night.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Aid is Here
By the time we arrived I was already exhausted, thirsty and drained. I hadn’t seen one child yet and was almost ready to get back on the plane and go home. I couldn’t make heads or tails of where we were. We had driven through a gate into what looked like an open lot. A filthy lot. Full of debris. Random people. We sat in the SUV waiting. Was this a private road? A pit stop? What were we doing here? Are we picking something up? From where I sat I could see the ocean. I love the ocean but this one looked sad as it peered into this deserted lot. There were almond trees providing shade. And some palm trees. People working and some music playing.
It was then my observing was interrupted by the unloading of luggage. So,this is it. This is home for the next 6days.
I could tell everyone was exhausted but there was much to do. It was extremely hot already. There was a “welcome” area that our friends had set up. A large bright orange plastic sheeting, strategically wrapped around several trees. This was the left “wall”. On the other side was a long bright yellow plastic sheet also strategically wrapped around several trees. This was the Right “wall”. This was the wall to our enclosure. The area where our tents, fourteen hundred pounds of supplies, and our sleeping bodies would be. This was our “secure” campsite. We were amongst strangers. Amongst people who had lost everything and had nothing to lose and this was the only thing that separated us from them. When we went through the rigorous exercise of collecting our luggage in the convection oven airport fourteen hundred pounds surely passed through all of our hands easily. We were spent. We now had tents to pitch we had luggage to sort through and we had children to greet. Day 1 began that moment.
None of us had ever been to this location but we made ourselves useful right away. Some began pitching tents. Our campsite laden with rocks, debris and broken glass. In an effort to get all of the equipment out of site we put all supplies in my tent. Leaving us only about 6 x4 area of living space. We walked to the beach which was a zero minute walk. We sat under the almond trees and then it began. Out of nowhere it seemed there appeared the children. They came with smiles on their faces. They came close, full of trust and love. They were eager to tell us their names and ask us ours. I shook the hands of the boys and if they gave me the limp fish hand I demanded that they give me another handshake, this time more firm and with confidence. I told them to look me in the eye and tell me their name. We did this all week. We had a list of participants but most of the children who came were not on our list. We gave them all wristbands. The wristbands said Hopeworldwide. They were categorized by age and each age had a corresponding color. The more bands we handed it out the more children emerged from the wall. The wall extended from the main gate and ended at the beach. There barbed wire, thorn bush and branches failed to block the way. The children would twist and contort themselves in order to get to us. The “aid” had arrived.
It was then my observing was interrupted by the unloading of luggage. So,this is it. This is home for the next 6days.
I could tell everyone was exhausted but there was much to do. It was extremely hot already. There was a “welcome” area that our friends had set up. A large bright orange plastic sheeting, strategically wrapped around several trees. This was the left “wall”. On the other side was a long bright yellow plastic sheet also strategically wrapped around several trees. This was the Right “wall”. This was the wall to our enclosure. The area where our tents, fourteen hundred pounds of supplies, and our sleeping bodies would be. This was our “secure” campsite. We were amongst strangers. Amongst people who had lost everything and had nothing to lose and this was the only thing that separated us from them. When we went through the rigorous exercise of collecting our luggage in the convection oven airport fourteen hundred pounds surely passed through all of our hands easily. We were spent. We now had tents to pitch we had luggage to sort through and we had children to greet. Day 1 began that moment.
None of us had ever been to this location but we made ourselves useful right away. Some began pitching tents. Our campsite laden with rocks, debris and broken glass. In an effort to get all of the equipment out of site we put all supplies in my tent. Leaving us only about 6 x4 area of living space. We walked to the beach which was a zero minute walk. We sat under the almond trees and then it began. Out of nowhere it seemed there appeared the children. They came with smiles on their faces. They came close, full of trust and love. They were eager to tell us their names and ask us ours. I shook the hands of the boys and if they gave me the limp fish hand I demanded that they give me another handshake, this time more firm and with confidence. I told them to look me in the eye and tell me their name. We did this all week. We had a list of participants but most of the children who came were not on our list. We gave them all wristbands. The wristbands said Hopeworldwide. They were categorized by age and each age had a corresponding color. The more bands we handed it out the more children emerged from the wall. The wall extended from the main gate and ended at the beach. There barbed wire, thorn bush and branches failed to block the way. The children would twist and contort themselves in order to get to us. The “aid” had arrived.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Give Thanks
I am spoiled because I woke up today. I can type that means my fingers are working and I have access to a computer. I can SEE! I am not blind. My stomach doesn’t grumble and I can DECIDE what I would like to have for lunch and dinner. If I am sick…I can go to my choice of doctor. I drooooooooooooove to work today. I did not have to walk. OH right..I HAVE a job. I am soooo stinkin rich. I have a TV and a bathroom INSIDE my house. I have clothes and shoes to give away. I have food to throw away because I can’t eat it all fast enough. It goes bad in my fridge. That’s right…I can keep food cold in my refrigerator inside my house. I slept in my warm bed last night. Sometimes because I’m just too lazy I sleep on my couch. It’s so cozy and big. I numerous warm and cozy places to sleep at night. I am safe. I can lock my door and be relatively sure that I will not be violated or killed in my sleep.
Every moment I complain, I forget about the other 80-90 percent of the world that doesn’t have what I have. Some days all I can think about are the things that are not going right. How I wish I were closer to my brother and my sister. How I wish we were not so divided in my family. Is it my fault? How I wish I had a better job, a better house, a better car, a bigger house. I wish, I wish I wish. These are the real muses of my mind in the car, while cooking, doing my hair. Obsessively thinking about the things I want to have complete control of. When I counter those poisonous thoughts with the things I am thankful for. It’s like a sword cutting through foam. When I pray for those who appear to be my enemies, be it my own family or strangers…SLICE…the hate is vanquished.
Unlike me, my brothers and sisters in Pakistan, in Haiti, on the streets in NY can’t just kick off their shoes and grab the remote when they want to relax and unwind. Many will die trying or just give up and give in to despair. My heart aches, at all that I can’t do to help. As I sit with my family and friends at Thanksgiving dinner I offer a special prayer for all those around the city and around the world. I wish they could be sitting with me. I pray like them…that I may find the blessings in the little things. They may not all get rescued or adopted or given aid but they may survive. They may live another day. Survive to tell their story. Survive to give someone else courage and strength to carry on. Sometimes when the material things are lacking, we may feel that that’s all we have and even that is not enough. It’s time to change our perspective.
People of earth…If you can read these words…you can see, you have access, you are more privileged than most people on this planet, you still have time to right the wrong, to start new, start fresh, go back to school or drop out and see the world, It’s not over till you breath your last breath…most importantly…YOU ARE BLESSED….YOU ARE ALIVE….
Have an amazing day of GIVING THANKS
Every moment I complain, I forget about the other 80-90 percent of the world that doesn’t have what I have. Some days all I can think about are the things that are not going right. How I wish I were closer to my brother and my sister. How I wish we were not so divided in my family. Is it my fault? How I wish I had a better job, a better house, a better car, a bigger house. I wish, I wish I wish. These are the real muses of my mind in the car, while cooking, doing my hair. Obsessively thinking about the things I want to have complete control of. When I counter those poisonous thoughts with the things I am thankful for. It’s like a sword cutting through foam. When I pray for those who appear to be my enemies, be it my own family or strangers…SLICE…the hate is vanquished.
Unlike me, my brothers and sisters in Pakistan, in Haiti, on the streets in NY can’t just kick off their shoes and grab the remote when they want to relax and unwind. Many will die trying or just give up and give in to despair. My heart aches, at all that I can’t do to help. As I sit with my family and friends at Thanksgiving dinner I offer a special prayer for all those around the city and around the world. I wish they could be sitting with me. I pray like them…that I may find the blessings in the little things. They may not all get rescued or adopted or given aid but they may survive. They may live another day. Survive to tell their story. Survive to give someone else courage and strength to carry on. Sometimes when the material things are lacking, we may feel that that’s all we have and even that is not enough. It’s time to change our perspective.
People of earth…If you can read these words…you can see, you have access, you are more privileged than most people on this planet, you still have time to right the wrong, to start new, start fresh, go back to school or drop out and see the world, It’s not over till you breath your last breath…most importantly…YOU ARE BLESSED….YOU ARE ALIVE….
Have an amazing day of GIVING THANKS
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Touch ME...
I could be dying...
I love craigslist. I dont care about the craigslist killer. I think he was improperly donned the title. He was the so and so Hotel killer. He happened to meet the girl from an ad she posted on craiglist. I dont engage in this type of risky behavior. I love a good deal though. I carefully select and hand pick anything that I have gotten from craigslist. My stainless steel grill, the bricks for my patio,my daughters lil tikes kitchen,and now...a friend?
This world is growing colder by the minute. I dont have enough room to talk about texting verses picking up the phone and calling, facebooking verses just spending time with friends and the hours we waste away in front of the television or the internet instead of talking with a friend, our spouses or our children. That could be a blog in and of itself.
There is a line in the bible that says..."You fool! this very night your life will be demanded of you." and this chilling thought whether someone beleives in heaven or hell is a FACT for us all. One day, our lives will be demanded of us. We won't walk this earth forever. We can't beat or cheat death.
When the earthquake in Haiti occurred. There was not just a chasm that opened up in the earth but in peoples hearts. But only for just a moment. A glimmer. People were talking,empathizing with others, mourning the loss of people they didnt even know. Non Haitians were Saddended and compelled by the pain of the people. Making connections. I met a young lady randomly at chuck-e-cheese because of the earthquake. She offered me pizza with sad sad eyes. I tole this story before. I declined and was about to leave but something told me to go back. TOUCH.
People were touching and willing to be touched at this time. It was obvious and evident. But truthfully isnt this the case no matter what the time? No matter what the climate,no matter what the headlines say? People want to be touched. We want to feel loved and cared for. Like we matter. Like if we suddenly died that many would care.
An ad on Craiglist reads...
"my mom has cancer n is not well, i am ridding of items in apt, she starts chemo tom.when she gets better she will be with me, or we buy her all new goods:) please leave name and number, i have 4 tvs, pictures bedding comforters glasses kitchen items etc... couch chairs beding clothes,couch pull out bed... i am the only family member left,and im doin it aLL ALONE N TRYIN TO KEEP SANE YET STAY AFLOAT N HELP MY MOM..... yes shes aware of me ridding certain items........ i would like items to go to a family/person who is down on luck and needs items to get by,god bless and i do hope i can help."
Who can read this and not feel compassion for this woman? But haven't we all cryed out for help at one time or another? We are all losing touch with each other, with our kids, with our immediate and extended families, we dont know how to even talk to one another. I am really saddened by where the world is heading. Did I reach out to this woman. Yes I did. I wrote to her and offered my help. Is this nuts? Why would you think so? She needs help. We are fellow human beings. It is stranger to offer a helping hand than to ignore a need and pretend it doesnt exist. Why am I suddenly the weirdo because I am willing to help a stranger? Shouldn't we be able to lighten the load for a stranger too. I hope she calls.
With just a few hours, myself and a modest group of friends can add years to this young lady's life. Give her hope in a dark and lonely place. I know that my eyes are not always open. I know there are days when I just dont give a dang about myself or anyone else. I know that this very night and any night or day; my own life can be demanded of me. At the end of the day...what does it all matter? How will I use my 60, my 70, 80 or 90. How will I use it? It's moments like this that snap me out of it. They bring me back from the complaining, the belly aching about my life's "troubles". They shut me up and silence me. They humble me. God always grabs me by the neck, gently and says...LOOK! I got my look today. I am reaching out and Touching the same way I long to be touched...to be acknowleged...to be heard...to be loved.
I love craigslist. I dont care about the craigslist killer. I think he was improperly donned the title. He was the so and so Hotel killer. He happened to meet the girl from an ad she posted on craiglist. I dont engage in this type of risky behavior. I love a good deal though. I carefully select and hand pick anything that I have gotten from craigslist. My stainless steel grill, the bricks for my patio,my daughters lil tikes kitchen,and now...a friend?
This world is growing colder by the minute. I dont have enough room to talk about texting verses picking up the phone and calling, facebooking verses just spending time with friends and the hours we waste away in front of the television or the internet instead of talking with a friend, our spouses or our children. That could be a blog in and of itself.
There is a line in the bible that says..."You fool! this very night your life will be demanded of you." and this chilling thought whether someone beleives in heaven or hell is a FACT for us all. One day, our lives will be demanded of us. We won't walk this earth forever. We can't beat or cheat death.
When the earthquake in Haiti occurred. There was not just a chasm that opened up in the earth but in peoples hearts. But only for just a moment. A glimmer. People were talking,empathizing with others, mourning the loss of people they didnt even know. Non Haitians were Saddended and compelled by the pain of the people. Making connections. I met a young lady randomly at chuck-e-cheese because of the earthquake. She offered me pizza with sad sad eyes. I tole this story before. I declined and was about to leave but something told me to go back. TOUCH.
People were touching and willing to be touched at this time. It was obvious and evident. But truthfully isnt this the case no matter what the time? No matter what the climate,no matter what the headlines say? People want to be touched. We want to feel loved and cared for. Like we matter. Like if we suddenly died that many would care.
An ad on Craiglist reads...
"my mom has cancer n is not well, i am ridding of items in apt, she starts chemo tom.when she gets better she will be with me, or we buy her all new goods:) please leave name and number, i have 4 tvs, pictures bedding comforters glasses kitchen items etc... couch chairs beding clothes,couch pull out bed... i am the only family member left,and im doin it aLL ALONE N TRYIN TO KEEP SANE YET STAY AFLOAT N HELP MY MOM..... yes shes aware of me ridding certain items........ i would like items to go to a family/person who is down on luck and needs items to get by,god bless and i do hope i can help."
Who can read this and not feel compassion for this woman? But haven't we all cryed out for help at one time or another? We are all losing touch with each other, with our kids, with our immediate and extended families, we dont know how to even talk to one another. I am really saddened by where the world is heading. Did I reach out to this woman. Yes I did. I wrote to her and offered my help. Is this nuts? Why would you think so? She needs help. We are fellow human beings. It is stranger to offer a helping hand than to ignore a need and pretend it doesnt exist. Why am I suddenly the weirdo because I am willing to help a stranger? Shouldn't we be able to lighten the load for a stranger too. I hope she calls.
With just a few hours, myself and a modest group of friends can add years to this young lady's life. Give her hope in a dark and lonely place. I know that my eyes are not always open. I know there are days when I just dont give a dang about myself or anyone else. I know that this very night and any night or day; my own life can be demanded of me. At the end of the day...what does it all matter? How will I use my 60, my 70, 80 or 90. How will I use it? It's moments like this that snap me out of it. They bring me back from the complaining, the belly aching about my life's "troubles". They shut me up and silence me. They humble me. God always grabs me by the neck, gently and says...LOOK! I got my look today. I am reaching out and Touching the same way I long to be touched...to be acknowleged...to be heard...to be loved.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday Driver
We had spent the whole morning traveling in the heat and dust. We drove down long, bumpy crater filled roads. These roads haven’t seen a paving in years and the earthquake only made worse, Worst. There were areas where literally the hole in the road was so big, traffic had to drive all the way around almost on the “sidewalk” to get through. These obstacles make what should be a short trip in any metropolitan area a long and arduous journey. You really have to ask yourself…do I NEED to go to this place??? Before setting out. A 30 mile ride for example took us nearly 2 hours to complete. From the inside of the vehicle you could see that it was not a long distance. I can close my eyes and plot out all the landmarks to retrace my steps. But the traffic and the roads make it so difficult. On the way to our work site we saw many things. “Street kids” begging in the street. Marlene told us that even if she took them in; they would not stay. They have the street in them and they only know the ways of the streets. She says they are also very promiscuous. This was all explained at a stoplight. As we drove off, my eyes stayed on the children we had left behind. They could not be more than 10 years old. We were keeping track of the other two vehicles with us. One loaded with our valuable supplies the other with our precious cargo, our team mates. We stopped often to let a vehicle catch up with us or vice versa. There was a stop where our driver was getting antsy. He said, this is a bad area, I don’t want to be waiting here too long. We could get attacked. We need to get out of here. I looked around and honestly I couldn’t see the difference from one place to the other. We were up and down streets lined with market plaSome of the merchandise looked really familiar. Are they selling donated clothes? They weren’t new. Are those donated shoes? Food? All I could see was huge mounds of various categories of things lying on a bag or a sheet on the ground. Shirts, jeans, sneakers, you name it. None of if was new. There was an area selling just auto parts. Another area where you could get your engine power washed with filthy water and the service wasn’t for free. There was an overpass for what used to be a river going through a town. It was now dry and filled with garbage. On one side, they were burning the garbage. Paper or plastic? Both! Not a lovely smell at all. We come to what I like to call a beach road. It’s where you have land on one side and you can see the ocean in the distance behind houses and streets. The road goes in and out of towns but there is always the ocean winking at you on one side. I thought oh we must be getting close. The roads here were not as bad. We picked up some speed and were moving nicely through,taking in the sites. This didn’t last very long. There was a huge truck in the middle of the road, just sitting there. Typical Haiti. We go around the truck and there in the middle of the road is a dead man, face down under a sheet. Only his feet and part of his head were sticking out. We drove a little further and there was a large crowd at a bus stop all huddled together. A little farther and there was a tap tap bus in the middle of the road. Empty. No passengers. The top was almost completely dismantled and turned alllllllll the way left. We put two and two together and figured that the truck must have hit the tap tap and flung the poor man out to his death. And there was no ambulance in site. There would be none coming either.
WELCOME TO HAITI!
I thought to myself; this is worse than a black cat crossing in front of your car! This is a bad thing to witness on the day we arrive to Haiti. I couldn’t get the image out of my mind. But like many resilient Haitians we all had to move on because soon we would arrive at our final destination for the week. Like it or not this would be home for the next 5 days. We had a lot of work to do. First on the list was unloading those bags. By the time we arrived we were already spent. It was like an episode of survivor. Do we rest or set up camp? With only 5 days on our lease we had no time to spare. We met our Ohio Partners and we got to work setting up 4 tents.
From that moment all of our bodies were about to embark on a 5 day assault. I can honestly say I have never worked so hard in all my life. The “work” began the moment the gate closed behind us and didn’t stop until we got on that plane and arrived back home. The work, the loving, and the serving the helping the aiding…we did all of it. This trip trumped all others because we were among the people. We didnt show up, set up shop and leave on a daily basis to other towns. Though this type of aid brings much needed supplies, medical help and relief. We set up shop and we stayed. We stayed with the people, we ate amongst the people, we saw what they were going through up close. For some maybe too close. For others we can’t seem to get it out of our systems. The vast disparity between where we lived in Haiti for a week and no matter where we live in the United States is difficult to comprehend. It wakes up a part of your being that rarely gets stirred and leaves you stuck between two worlds.
WELCOME TO HAITI!
I thought to myself; this is worse than a black cat crossing in front of your car! This is a bad thing to witness on the day we arrive to Haiti. I couldn’t get the image out of my mind. But like many resilient Haitians we all had to move on because soon we would arrive at our final destination for the week. Like it or not this would be home for the next 5 days. We had a lot of work to do. First on the list was unloading those bags. By the time we arrived we were already spent. It was like an episode of survivor. Do we rest or set up camp? With only 5 days on our lease we had no time to spare. We met our Ohio Partners and we got to work setting up 4 tents.
From that moment all of our bodies were about to embark on a 5 day assault. I can honestly say I have never worked so hard in all my life. The “work” began the moment the gate closed behind us and didn’t stop until we got on that plane and arrived back home. The work, the loving, and the serving the helping the aiding…we did all of it. This trip trumped all others because we were among the people. We didnt show up, set up shop and leave on a daily basis to other towns. Though this type of aid brings much needed supplies, medical help and relief. We set up shop and we stayed. We stayed with the people, we ate amongst the people, we saw what they were going through up close. For some maybe too close. For others we can’t seem to get it out of our systems. The vast disparity between where we lived in Haiti for a week and no matter where we live in the United States is difficult to comprehend. It wakes up a part of your being that rarely gets stirred and leaves you stuck between two worlds.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Cover me...I'm going in
5, 4, 3 ,2, 1….Its Show time! Got no sleep. My daughters are fast asleep in their beds. My in-laws are in our bed. We are on the floor on an air mattress. Looking at 2 hours of sleep and then off to the airport. I barely slept. We got up and got ourselves ready. At the very last minute I couldn’t find two important things. My prescription Eye GLASSES and my pillow!!! We searched High and low at 4 in the morning…we even got my mother-in-law up to see if she had any clue but to no avail. Gotta call it…okay. Leave it. So out we go, TO HAITI, with my old broken glasses. The ones with one arm. Great! I am not going to let this get to me. We have way too much to accomplish in this one day. Of course we get to the airport and everyone is like…awwww your glasses.
We get to the airport 3 hours early and it seems we didn’t have enough time. The place is packed with travelers, other groups and the lovely customer service of JFK airport. We have to do a self check in first….THEN…we can check luggage…all twenty-eight bags! God please be with us. All of us are lined up, looking dapper with our nice blue Hope Worldwide Shirts, texting each other in the line, looking for updates and holes in this faulty system. We see a group of Asian volunteers with bright RED shirts that say “Jesus loves you” in Creole. Jezi Remin ou. They are all checking in together. Some quick thinking and fast talking and we are checking in together as well. We get an agent who seemed pretty nervous about having to check in 2 groups in a row. We were so meticulous about making sure each bag weighed exactly 50lbs. We even used inactive counters to re-weigh our luggage and negotiate some quick switch-a-roo to make them exact. The agent was so anxious about getting us on the plane on time he actually stood on the scale with the luggage. Every piece of luggage was coming in at 240lbs, 230lb…so we figured he was about 180 or so. We got a free pass on the luggage and God just ushered us on through. From there we had to run to our gate with only moments to spare. When we got to our gate the first thing we hear is an announcement looking for volunteers to give up their spots!!! And they were looking for 14 volunteers. $400 cash per person and a night in a hotel. A tempting offer any other day. But we had no time to spare. Did I mention we were a group of 14 by the way?! Oh no you don’t Satan! For those of us still waiting to get on, I urged everyone to conger up the NY in them and get pushy and make our way to the front of the line. We all got through and on the plane.
We have an uneventful flight and make it to Haiti. It had only been 5 months to the day that I had been in Haiti but 15 years since I had flown into the Toussaint L’overture airport in Port-au-prince. I had no idea what to expect. I was tipped off by good friend Andy on what the possibilities were but I wasn’t sure. We get off the plane and walk through a gate not the tarmac…hmmm…that’s new. Then there is a small local village band playing at the end of ….an escalator! Whoa…that’s new too! I was beaming with pride. I looked to my husband and said…Welcome to my country. Welcome to Haiti. We look down the escalator and there is an officially badged man with Katty Velez on a piece of paper. I didn’t see it, someone pointed it out to me. I know at that moment we all felt so relieved. We were off to such a great start. We make it outside and there is a nice bus waiting to take us to “baggage claim”. The gentleman escorts us through the next phase of getting our luggage and making our way to our vehicles.
We get off the non-air conditioned bus and we walk into what can only be described as a convection oven. It was a giant ware house type structure. Large and spacious. There were fans blowing everywhere but it was hot as ________. (You fill in the blank). It was the hottest place I have ever been to. I have NEVER sweat before like I did that moment. The sweat was dripping from my temples, down my face, pooling under my chin and then dripping on whoever and whatever…everyone was. This was the BAGGAGE CLAIM. So standing still you are sweating this bad. Now you want me to go and find 28 pieces of luggage at 50lbs each? Girls were not exempt. We were all at that turnstile pulling, dragging, swinging and grabbing luggage. We had to count the luggage every so often to know how many more we were looking for. How many!? 15. okay 13 more? Ugh… How many?! 20 okay…eight more….How many?! 23…5 more all the way to none more. Wouldn’t you know it…we found every piece of luggage in this luggage hell. That nervous agent didn’t do so bad after all.
Our dear Hostesses Marlene Berthelot and Pastor Jessie Pierre were both there to meet us. It would be our first times meeting face to face.
We get to our hired vehicles and there is no truck. We were expecting a big truck to take us and our luggage in one shot. INSTEAD, we had 2 vehicles. We had to hire a man on the spot to take the rest of us who didn’t fit. 3 vehicles, more than a ton of baggage, and 18ppl. If you ever saw an episode of the twilight zone (new or old version)…that very moment we were driving away would be the portal to the twilight zone. We were all in la la land. Snapping pictures. Ooing and aaaaing at everything…group pictures galore…We were on a head on collision course with something I dare say would change our lives forever. 5 days in Gressier, Haiti.
We get to the airport 3 hours early and it seems we didn’t have enough time. The place is packed with travelers, other groups and the lovely customer service of JFK airport. We have to do a self check in first….THEN…we can check luggage…all twenty-eight bags! God please be with us. All of us are lined up, looking dapper with our nice blue Hope Worldwide Shirts, texting each other in the line, looking for updates and holes in this faulty system. We see a group of Asian volunteers with bright RED shirts that say “Jesus loves you” in Creole. Jezi Remin ou. They are all checking in together. Some quick thinking and fast talking and we are checking in together as well. We get an agent who seemed pretty nervous about having to check in 2 groups in a row. We were so meticulous about making sure each bag weighed exactly 50lbs. We even used inactive counters to re-weigh our luggage and negotiate some quick switch-a-roo to make them exact. The agent was so anxious about getting us on the plane on time he actually stood on the scale with the luggage. Every piece of luggage was coming in at 240lbs, 230lb…so we figured he was about 180 or so. We got a free pass on the luggage and God just ushered us on through. From there we had to run to our gate with only moments to spare. When we got to our gate the first thing we hear is an announcement looking for volunteers to give up their spots!!! And they were looking for 14 volunteers. $400 cash per person and a night in a hotel. A tempting offer any other day. But we had no time to spare. Did I mention we were a group of 14 by the way?! Oh no you don’t Satan! For those of us still waiting to get on, I urged everyone to conger up the NY in them and get pushy and make our way to the front of the line. We all got through and on the plane.
We have an uneventful flight and make it to Haiti. It had only been 5 months to the day that I had been in Haiti but 15 years since I had flown into the Toussaint L’overture airport in Port-au-prince. I had no idea what to expect. I was tipped off by good friend Andy on what the possibilities were but I wasn’t sure. We get off the plane and walk through a gate not the tarmac…hmmm…that’s new. Then there is a small local village band playing at the end of ….an escalator! Whoa…that’s new too! I was beaming with pride. I looked to my husband and said…Welcome to my country. Welcome to Haiti. We look down the escalator and there is an officially badged man with Katty Velez on a piece of paper. I didn’t see it, someone pointed it out to me. I know at that moment we all felt so relieved. We were off to such a great start. We make it outside and there is a nice bus waiting to take us to “baggage claim”. The gentleman escorts us through the next phase of getting our luggage and making our way to our vehicles.
We get off the non-air conditioned bus and we walk into what can only be described as a convection oven. It was a giant ware house type structure. Large and spacious. There were fans blowing everywhere but it was hot as ________. (You fill in the blank). It was the hottest place I have ever been to. I have NEVER sweat before like I did that moment. The sweat was dripping from my temples, down my face, pooling under my chin and then dripping on whoever and whatever…everyone was. This was the BAGGAGE CLAIM. So standing still you are sweating this bad. Now you want me to go and find 28 pieces of luggage at 50lbs each? Girls were not exempt. We were all at that turnstile pulling, dragging, swinging and grabbing luggage. We had to count the luggage every so often to know how many more we were looking for. How many!? 15. okay 13 more? Ugh… How many?! 20 okay…eight more….How many?! 23…5 more all the way to none more. Wouldn’t you know it…we found every piece of luggage in this luggage hell. That nervous agent didn’t do so bad after all.
Our dear Hostesses Marlene Berthelot and Pastor Jessie Pierre were both there to meet us. It would be our first times meeting face to face.
We get to our hired vehicles and there is no truck. We were expecting a big truck to take us and our luggage in one shot. INSTEAD, we had 2 vehicles. We had to hire a man on the spot to take the rest of us who didn’t fit. 3 vehicles, more than a ton of baggage, and 18ppl. If you ever saw an episode of the twilight zone (new or old version)…that very moment we were driving away would be the portal to the twilight zone. We were all in la la land. Snapping pictures. Ooing and aaaaing at everything…group pictures galore…We were on a head on collision course with something I dare say would change our lives forever. 5 days in Gressier, Haiti.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
A Little Closer to Home
I believe in fate. That God has plans for me. In this world where miracles and good news are scarce; believing that God has a plan for me and my family is reassuring, comforting and exciting. Since the day the earthquake occurred I have been wrestling with a tremendous sense of calling. Many were. Many still are.
On my trip to Haiti I made many new friends. Some people I felt a connection with during the trip but lost it others I didn’t make a connection with until after the trip. One person in particular was a college student from Ohio, driven by her heart to help my people. She met a woman on an 8hr bus ride from Haiti to the Dominican Republic. This woman's story moved her so much that she was determined to return and help her with her cause. Her inspiration soon became my inspiration. I reached out to this woman. She is a teacher and business woman from St. Petersburg, FL. Her faith and sense of purpose have inspired and humbled me. What drives such a person? The young college student reminded me of such faith and determination. I stand between them like a small person looking up to giants. This woman invested over 200K of her own money into starting an orphanage in Gressier. It was an 8,000 square foot building, 15 rooms, 5 baths and plenty of storage...all leveled and lost in the earthquake. The organization kept its doors open with funding from her own pocket. Thousands of dollars. Monthly. They had just gotten the place to where it were looking up after the devastating hurricanes of 2008. They were going to start a school in the area and then the earthquake happened.
She is a business woman with a lot of personal friends and contacts in Haiti. She has a van and a few containers that are being held up in customs. One container is full of lumber and building materials for her orphanage. Customs has yet to clear the materials.
She was down and discouraged and fighting feelings of giving up right before we reached out to her. She and her co-director are convinced that God allowed everything to be destroyed so that he could rebuild it his way. Her faith just floors me. She works with the community to help women and also encourages native Haitians to not sit around waiting for aid but to become the aid and get out and help. Her clinic is run entirely by volunteers. She has 3-4 doctors that do rounds regularly at her facility. She needs help more hands, more bodies to help her.
Is it that we never meet people like her or that we just ignore them when they speak? She made a huge impression on me. Her sincerity for the children, the women and the people of Gressier. Was I looking for something to believe in or was there really something to it?
I called my mother's cousin just to let her know I would be going to Haiti in July. I told her that I would be going to help an orphanage in Gressier. She says oh...you know that is where your grandmother is from? Your mother and your grandfather are from Leogane just a hop and a skip from Gressier. How is it that of all the places, of all the people, that I would be lead to my grandmother's town? Helping friends and descendants of my family? I got off the phone with my late mother's cousin and I just wanted to cry. Until God shows us otherwise, we will press on. I know we can't fix the entire country, but for now, we will take a piece of the problem and make it better...as best we can.
On my trip to Haiti I made many new friends. Some people I felt a connection with during the trip but lost it others I didn’t make a connection with until after the trip. One person in particular was a college student from Ohio, driven by her heart to help my people. She met a woman on an 8hr bus ride from Haiti to the Dominican Republic. This woman's story moved her so much that she was determined to return and help her with her cause. Her inspiration soon became my inspiration. I reached out to this woman. She is a teacher and business woman from St. Petersburg, FL. Her faith and sense of purpose have inspired and humbled me. What drives such a person? The young college student reminded me of such faith and determination. I stand between them like a small person looking up to giants. This woman invested over 200K of her own money into starting an orphanage in Gressier. It was an 8,000 square foot building, 15 rooms, 5 baths and plenty of storage...all leveled and lost in the earthquake. The organization kept its doors open with funding from her own pocket. Thousands of dollars. Monthly. They had just gotten the place to where it were looking up after the devastating hurricanes of 2008. They were going to start a school in the area and then the earthquake happened.
She is a business woman with a lot of personal friends and contacts in Haiti. She has a van and a few containers that are being held up in customs. One container is full of lumber and building materials for her orphanage. Customs has yet to clear the materials.
She was down and discouraged and fighting feelings of giving up right before we reached out to her. She and her co-director are convinced that God allowed everything to be destroyed so that he could rebuild it his way. Her faith just floors me. She works with the community to help women and also encourages native Haitians to not sit around waiting for aid but to become the aid and get out and help. Her clinic is run entirely by volunteers. She has 3-4 doctors that do rounds regularly at her facility. She needs help more hands, more bodies to help her.
Is it that we never meet people like her or that we just ignore them when they speak? She made a huge impression on me. Her sincerity for the children, the women and the people of Gressier. Was I looking for something to believe in or was there really something to it?
I called my mother's cousin just to let her know I would be going to Haiti in July. I told her that I would be going to help an orphanage in Gressier. She says oh...you know that is where your grandmother is from? Your mother and your grandfather are from Leogane just a hop and a skip from Gressier. How is it that of all the places, of all the people, that I would be lead to my grandmother's town? Helping friends and descendants of my family? I got off the phone with my late mother's cousin and I just wanted to cry. Until God shows us otherwise, we will press on. I know we can't fix the entire country, but for now, we will take a piece of the problem and make it better...as best we can.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Gold Rush
I haven't had much to say in a long while. I have been busy working running,pushing, talking, planning,and plotting. The dust is beginning to settle and now I am asking myself. What exactly am I doing and why?
It is estimated that before the earthquake in Haiti there were apprximately 4,000 NGO's in the country. There are now a reported 10,000 NGO's in the country now. This is not counting the non-registered groups and individual volunteers. Many people are flocking to Haiti's boarders for their chance to see with their own eyes,experience with all five senses, and say they helped even one. We have never seen a catastrophe of this proportion before. It has a magnitizing quality to it. We couldnt take our eyes off of the early footage and some were so moved to arrive at its borders to help. Many arrived in the days after the earthquake with just the shirts on their backs eager to help. desperate to do SOMETHING. As the days and weeks continue to add up many are still hurrying to Haiti. Many will return with lofty goals and desires to help...like I did. The question for me now is HOW? I have sat through many a dizzying meeting about Haiti. At the UN, conference calls, presentations and now even a tentative job offer to work in Haiti. (Still pending details) and I walk away dismayed. I know all the sayings...eat a whale one bite at a time...but why would I want to do that!? Why in the world would I want to eat a whole whale by myself? The questions of how and how long become, is this truly what I want to devote my life to? I read the article of a young girl who had just visited Haiti and I could relate to her perspective. She said going to Haiti gave her "Freedom from the American dream. Wreckage of the disgusting idea I used to have of what success looks like. Abandonment of the desire for wealth and the idea that material things will fix us or fulfill us"
I battle this every day! The american dream. My two bedroom house is never good enough. Never large enough. Never nice enough. But, you know what? If I were to airlift this very house and set it into Haiti, It would be like the sight of a crusie ship in the distance. It would be sooooooo nice!
The american dream makes me feel foolish for wanting to go and help in haiti. Makes me feel crazy for wanted to take my children to Haiti and live amongst the Haitians and help them. It makes me want to jump back into the comfy band wagon and try and get an even bigger salary, a bigger house, a nicer car, better clothes. Isnt your favorite daydream the one about what you would do if you won the lottery. It is mine.
Haiti still calls me, she summons me. Sadly, I find that her voice is growing faint. My fears of the unknown are are crying louder than she is. What happened to the fearlessness I had before? Fools rush in. Perhaps just sprinkling a little american sunshine is all I can do? Hand out some food, some bandaids. Like the bible says...you tell your neighbor...Keep warm and well fed...knowing good and well they don't have food or blankets!
Its not our problem right? Their government should fix it,right? So what, a few more thousand people die as a result. What can I do? It's the circle of life right? Like the animal channels. You can never save that poor zebra. You can only sit in the comfort of your home and watch it die.
What is the proper response to this catastrophe? I keep silent because I am overwhelmed by the answer. I waste away inwardly and physically because there really is no right answer. It's really up to me. I find myself running out of steam. Running out of enthusiasm. Running out of ideas.It's much easier not to think. It's easier to to get consumed with facebook, survivor,gardening,food shopping, my husband,kids and travel plans. It's easier.
Can I turn on my heels and continue on with my American dream? A dream my family will never achieve to be quite honest. Unless we win that lottery. Its time for a change. Maybe for a year maybe for a lifetime,but it is time.
It is estimated that before the earthquake in Haiti there were apprximately 4,000 NGO's in the country. There are now a reported 10,000 NGO's in the country now. This is not counting the non-registered groups and individual volunteers. Many people are flocking to Haiti's boarders for their chance to see with their own eyes,experience with all five senses, and say they helped even one. We have never seen a catastrophe of this proportion before. It has a magnitizing quality to it. We couldnt take our eyes off of the early footage and some were so moved to arrive at its borders to help. Many arrived in the days after the earthquake with just the shirts on their backs eager to help. desperate to do SOMETHING. As the days and weeks continue to add up many are still hurrying to Haiti. Many will return with lofty goals and desires to help...like I did. The question for me now is HOW? I have sat through many a dizzying meeting about Haiti. At the UN, conference calls, presentations and now even a tentative job offer to work in Haiti. (Still pending details) and I walk away dismayed. I know all the sayings...eat a whale one bite at a time...but why would I want to do that!? Why in the world would I want to eat a whole whale by myself? The questions of how and how long become, is this truly what I want to devote my life to? I read the article of a young girl who had just visited Haiti and I could relate to her perspective. She said going to Haiti gave her "Freedom from the American dream. Wreckage of the disgusting idea I used to have of what success looks like. Abandonment of the desire for wealth and the idea that material things will fix us or fulfill us"
I battle this every day! The american dream. My two bedroom house is never good enough. Never large enough. Never nice enough. But, you know what? If I were to airlift this very house and set it into Haiti, It would be like the sight of a crusie ship in the distance. It would be sooooooo nice!
The american dream makes me feel foolish for wanting to go and help in haiti. Makes me feel crazy for wanted to take my children to Haiti and live amongst the Haitians and help them. It makes me want to jump back into the comfy band wagon and try and get an even bigger salary, a bigger house, a nicer car, better clothes. Isnt your favorite daydream the one about what you would do if you won the lottery. It is mine.
Haiti still calls me, she summons me. Sadly, I find that her voice is growing faint. My fears of the unknown are are crying louder than she is. What happened to the fearlessness I had before? Fools rush in. Perhaps just sprinkling a little american sunshine is all I can do? Hand out some food, some bandaids. Like the bible says...you tell your neighbor...Keep warm and well fed...knowing good and well they don't have food or blankets!
Its not our problem right? Their government should fix it,right? So what, a few more thousand people die as a result. What can I do? It's the circle of life right? Like the animal channels. You can never save that poor zebra. You can only sit in the comfort of your home and watch it die.
What is the proper response to this catastrophe? I keep silent because I am overwhelmed by the answer. I waste away inwardly and physically because there really is no right answer. It's really up to me. I find myself running out of steam. Running out of enthusiasm. Running out of ideas.It's much easier not to think. It's easier to to get consumed with facebook, survivor,gardening,food shopping, my husband,kids and travel plans. It's easier.
Can I turn on my heels and continue on with my American dream? A dream my family will never achieve to be quite honest. Unless we win that lottery. Its time for a change. Maybe for a year maybe for a lifetime,but it is time.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Learning and Growing
The more I learn about Haiti and after my first of hopefully many visits, my vision for the country is slowly taking shape, it's changing, is maturing. Going to the UN for my country was a moment I will never forget. Surrounding by many passionate Haitians and friends of Haitians. My focus now is bringing people together in my circles, to help them commit to helping Haiti not just with money but with their time. My husband and I are looking deep within. This may be our life’s work. A lot of "somebody's" have got to do it. Why not us? As far as my voice is concerned...I feel like a play "Oprah" in my little. When I share my ideas...for the silliest of things...people listen. I am humbled by that. I look up to the sky whenever I get a call and someone is looking for my input, my opinion. I look up to God and say to myself, what am I to do with this? Why am I in the middle of this? I am not so great. I know it’s not me but God and him carrying out his will. I am humbled that he would consider using me and so many others for his purpose.
I want to use my voice to make a real difference now. Life is truly short and not a minute is promised...I am a visionary now and all the more in light of the devastation of my mother and fathers country; the land of my ancestors.
I want to use my voice to make a real difference now. Life is truly short and not a minute is promised...I am a visionary now and all the more in light of the devastation of my mother and fathers country; the land of my ancestors.
Our Patients in Port-au-Prince
Francis - A little 9 year old with a stomach Ache, sad, yellow, jaundice eyes. He came to see the doctor unescorted by mother or father. He came alone. I asked him where his parents were and he just stared off and said his sister was over there. He didn't look like the typical child of the street. He was well groomed. Clean. Haitian parents are not usually far off from their children. Especially in these camp settings. He said his parents were fine but I suspected otherwise. The most beautiful smile emerged when we gave him a cup of cough syrup. Sweeeeeet!
Mami - 79 years old hypertensive, diabetic. Alive and spirited. There were many like her.
Pasionat - Our little helper who reminded me at the end of the day that I didn’t take her picture. My batteries had died by then.
Baby boy with the sun bleached blonde hair - waited till I picked him up to pee his pants but we got him some formula and diapers. He walked barefoot in the dirt and gravel. He was the same age as my youngest daughter, not yet 2years old. I tried to pick him up but he knew where his mother was and he wanted her back. I should have asked if it was okay to pick him up. I got lost in the moment and started to do what many mothers do when they meet a stranger with a child; I shared about my daughter with her. I quickly realized this was not a cute exchange between mothers. There was an imaginary wall that separated her life from mine. Yes we were standing on the same soil for the moment but we were worlds apart. She held her child protectively and didn't seem interested any story about my child. I don’t blame her.
Woman with the two sons. One who died in the earthquake and the other whose leg was crushed and split in 3 places. We sent the doctor and wound specialist to her tent since he couldn’t come to our location. It reminded me of the biblical story of the paralytic whose friends lowered him down from the roof to see the great healer, Jesus.
There were children nearby, under another tent our group set up. With one page from a coloring book and crayon they were able to forget about the hot sun and their worries. For a few minutes they were able to be kids again.
There was the old woman with the black prom dress; her head had a healed split in it. She said she was having trouble seeing, blurred vision, and headaches. She said she had been hit in the head with a brick. There was the man who suffering from similar symptoms. He also was hit in the head by the rubble. He kept explaining away the severity saying it wasn’t a big rock just a small one. That he just needed something for the pain. Just something to help him sleep at night. Both were describing symptoms of possible concussions. Nothing we could do to help them.
Others with ringing in their ears, lack of sleep, inability to eat, or pain in the stomach after they eat, many skin infections, fungus and yeast from the untreated water. Scalp infections.
One 15 year old girl was walking around with a broken collar bone that had never been tended to. You could see the derailed bone protruding underneath her skin. She was tall and slim with an orange dress on. Someone had braided her hair in large, neat, braids. She was escorted by an old man who did all the talking for her. She was dehydrated and could not eat. She looked severely traumatized. She had a blank stare in her eyes. Like she was still in the moment of the earthquake.
Mami - 79 years old hypertensive, diabetic. Alive and spirited. There were many like her.
Pasionat - Our little helper who reminded me at the end of the day that I didn’t take her picture. My batteries had died by then.
Baby boy with the sun bleached blonde hair - waited till I picked him up to pee his pants but we got him some formula and diapers. He walked barefoot in the dirt and gravel. He was the same age as my youngest daughter, not yet 2years old. I tried to pick him up but he knew where his mother was and he wanted her back. I should have asked if it was okay to pick him up. I got lost in the moment and started to do what many mothers do when they meet a stranger with a child; I shared about my daughter with her. I quickly realized this was not a cute exchange between mothers. There was an imaginary wall that separated her life from mine. Yes we were standing on the same soil for the moment but we were worlds apart. She held her child protectively and didn't seem interested any story about my child. I don’t blame her.
Woman with the two sons. One who died in the earthquake and the other whose leg was crushed and split in 3 places. We sent the doctor and wound specialist to her tent since he couldn’t come to our location. It reminded me of the biblical story of the paralytic whose friends lowered him down from the roof to see the great healer, Jesus.
There were children nearby, under another tent our group set up. With one page from a coloring book and crayon they were able to forget about the hot sun and their worries. For a few minutes they were able to be kids again.
There was the old woman with the black prom dress; her head had a healed split in it. She said she was having trouble seeing, blurred vision, and headaches. She said she had been hit in the head with a brick. There was the man who suffering from similar symptoms. He also was hit in the head by the rubble. He kept explaining away the severity saying it wasn’t a big rock just a small one. That he just needed something for the pain. Just something to help him sleep at night. Both were describing symptoms of possible concussions. Nothing we could do to help them.
Others with ringing in their ears, lack of sleep, inability to eat, or pain in the stomach after they eat, many skin infections, fungus and yeast from the untreated water. Scalp infections.
One 15 year old girl was walking around with a broken collar bone that had never been tended to. You could see the derailed bone protruding underneath her skin. She was tall and slim with an orange dress on. Someone had braided her hair in large, neat, braids. She was escorted by an old man who did all the talking for her. She was dehydrated and could not eat. She looked severely traumatized. She had a blank stare in her eyes. Like she was still in the moment of the earthquake.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
AFTERSHOCK!
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.
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.
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...
Saturday, January 30, 2010
This Time...
Dear _______
....I read your email and now I feel a bit overwhelmed. It looks like I will leaving on Monday or Tuesday for Haiti for medical relief. I am not a doctor or in any healthcare field. I am going as a translator. I am leaving my husband and my daughters behind to do this. I really cant put in my mind that change isnt coming or that the haitian people will not be grateful for my sacrifice to come and be with them instead. I cant go there with this in my heart or else the time, the effort the sacrifice is all in vain. We have to believe that Change is coming. All the eyes of the world are on Haiti right now. Not just here in the "new Haiti Project". May God bless our efforts but I believe there are many new haiti projects all over the world. people are putting their heads together to make a difference. Maybe this time it will stick.
....I read your email and now I feel a bit overwhelmed. It looks like I will leaving on Monday or Tuesday for Haiti for medical relief. I am not a doctor or in any healthcare field. I am going as a translator. I am leaving my husband and my daughters behind to do this. I really cant put in my mind that change isnt coming or that the haitian people will not be grateful for my sacrifice to come and be with them instead. I cant go there with this in my heart or else the time, the effort the sacrifice is all in vain. We have to believe that Change is coming. All the eyes of the world are on Haiti right now. Not just here in the "new Haiti Project". May God bless our efforts but I believe there are many new haiti projects all over the world. people are putting their heads together to make a difference. Maybe this time it will stick.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
For such a time as this...
On Friday,I started the day as I always do; trying to get another ounce of sleep. Lately it’s been hard to get up out of bed. I took the baby from her crib after she woke up. Instead of getting the day going I brought her back to my bed so that we could sleep together for even just a few more minutes. When she got too fidgety to keep in bed; I get up and log into my computer to see what is going on in Haiti and find out if anyone has gotten back to me about anything. While I'm checking, I'm making a lasagna. It's time I cook a decent meal. It has been a while of tuna fish sandwiches and frankly I can’t remember what for the past couple of days. I take some time to make some phone calls, to clean,to take a shower. I come back to check my emails and there it is.
Subject line: Trip to Haiti
From: My dear friend, a Haitian physician
I didn’t have to open it to know what it was about. But I did read it and the email said.
"I was just contacted about an upcoming volunteer trip to Haiti for medical relief. The first flight leaves tomorrow 1/23/2010 and the next will leave in about 1-2 weeks. Please let me know if you would be interested in going as a
Physician, nurse or translator. I need to provide your name, contact number, your role and how long you can stay ASAP. If you are interested in going please visit your physician for travel vaccines(Hep. B, Hep. A, Typhoid, Malaria, Meningitis, Tetanus, flu, H1N1). You will also need a recent passport."
It only took a second for me to hit REPLY with my Name, Phone numbers, email and a short message that said nothing more than "Passport Valid until 2015". Then I just stood there. I sent it off and stood there. It's important to me that you know that I am not reckless woman. I have been known to walk away from many a sale to give myself time to evaluate spending the money or not. Many hear the excitement and enthusiasm in my voice and I can see them getting nervous. They often don't see what takes place behind the scenes. Please understand; I DO NOTHING without weighing, not just the pro's and con's, but everything in between. Ask my husband. It can be very draining. I and my husband have been praying about this moment together since we learned about the earthquake. What we were waiting for was not the IF but the HOW. We both knew that my heart was to go. There was never any question. What we didn’t know was WHO I was going with and HOW I was going to get there. Almost as soon as I pressed send my husband had gotten up from a nap he was taking. (He works over night as a truck driver for a major wholesale warehouse.) I couldn’t speak with him right away. I just took him by the hand and sat him down. I was bursting at the seams. I sat him down and I told him that I had been contacted about a trip to Haiti and that I wanted to go. Right then and there, I had his full blessing to go. Any hesitation, a boo, and I would not have the strength or courage to go. His love and his support mean so much to me. They are a reminder of how big God is. How powerful God is. In this time of extreme uncertainty the fact that he feels comfortable with me going to help my people. I am truly blessed.
In the same day, as if that were not enough, I reached out to some friends to say why don’t we "put our heads together" and see what we can come up with. I have some resources sitting in my inbox that maybe we can turn into something. A group of influential Haitians were already getting together for a meeting and now I was invited to give my input and offer my ideas. Is this really happening? I felt like I had made it to home base. I felt that in that moment I was where I was supposed to be. Doing what I should be doing.
Last year, I partook in an exercise where I filled out a worksheet to determine what my goals were. A mission statement, if you will. At first, I thought the exercise was futile and a waste of time. I couldn’t sit still long enough to do anything with it. I finally finished with help and encouragement from many friends. The common thread we found was that my joy and strengths were bringing people together. As the heartbreaking details of Haiti continue to unfold, my thoughts go right away to the book of Esther 4:14,
"For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews (Haitians) will arise from another place... And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"
Such a time as THIS...I couldn’t escape the idea that God was calling me to use what he has given me to make a difference. It fit and made sense.
Words cannot express what seeing the Hope for Haiti telethon on EVERY MAJOR television station meant to me tonight...If any were still in the dark about the gravity of the situation in Haiti, they are no more.
I spent the rest of the day refreshing my inbox to see what came of my REPLY. I checked and checked until I saw the email. It was the same subject and from the same person. This time, it was not an inquiry. It was statement. A statement to those in charge saying: My team will consist of Translator Katty Velez and blah blah blah after that. I don’t remember. I had to go back and read it again and again. What I do remember is that almost immediately, my whole body reacted to the news. I started to tremble and I started to shake. I would be lying if I said I werent afraid and a bit nervous. When I saw the telethon on every station, I sat and wiped streams of tears from my face. I thought, the world gets it. It was an affirmation and thumbs up to me that I wasn’t crazy or foolish or reckless.
In a week or two I WILL be on my way to Haiti. I don’t say this in a bragging way. It’s in a remarkable way. Like I won't believe it until I am there. I will most likely cry all the way there, the whole time there and all the way back and I will more than likely want to go back there once I return. My focus alongside translating is to encourage those I come in contact with and offer a reminder TO HOPE.
I pray to God and I thank JESUS Christ if I get to go. Please pray for the details leading up to and during this trip. Pray for us to be successful in saving some and for the safe return of me and my team.
Subject line: Trip to Haiti
From: My dear friend, a Haitian physician
I didn’t have to open it to know what it was about. But I did read it and the email said.
"I was just contacted about an upcoming volunteer trip to Haiti for medical relief. The first flight leaves tomorrow 1/23/2010 and the next will leave in about 1-2 weeks. Please let me know if you would be interested in going as a
Physician, nurse or translator. I need to provide your name, contact number, your role and how long you can stay ASAP. If you are interested in going please visit your physician for travel vaccines(Hep. B, Hep. A, Typhoid, Malaria, Meningitis, Tetanus, flu, H1N1). You will also need a recent passport."
It only took a second for me to hit REPLY with my Name, Phone numbers, email and a short message that said nothing more than "Passport Valid until 2015". Then I just stood there. I sent it off and stood there. It's important to me that you know that I am not reckless woman. I have been known to walk away from many a sale to give myself time to evaluate spending the money or not. Many hear the excitement and enthusiasm in my voice and I can see them getting nervous. They often don't see what takes place behind the scenes. Please understand; I DO NOTHING without weighing, not just the pro's and con's, but everything in between. Ask my husband. It can be very draining. I and my husband have been praying about this moment together since we learned about the earthquake. What we were waiting for was not the IF but the HOW. We both knew that my heart was to go. There was never any question. What we didn’t know was WHO I was going with and HOW I was going to get there. Almost as soon as I pressed send my husband had gotten up from a nap he was taking. (He works over night as a truck driver for a major wholesale warehouse.) I couldn’t speak with him right away. I just took him by the hand and sat him down. I was bursting at the seams. I sat him down and I told him that I had been contacted about a trip to Haiti and that I wanted to go. Right then and there, I had his full blessing to go. Any hesitation, a boo, and I would not have the strength or courage to go. His love and his support mean so much to me. They are a reminder of how big God is. How powerful God is. In this time of extreme uncertainty the fact that he feels comfortable with me going to help my people. I am truly blessed.
In the same day, as if that were not enough, I reached out to some friends to say why don’t we "put our heads together" and see what we can come up with. I have some resources sitting in my inbox that maybe we can turn into something. A group of influential Haitians were already getting together for a meeting and now I was invited to give my input and offer my ideas. Is this really happening? I felt like I had made it to home base. I felt that in that moment I was where I was supposed to be. Doing what I should be doing.
Last year, I partook in an exercise where I filled out a worksheet to determine what my goals were. A mission statement, if you will. At first, I thought the exercise was futile and a waste of time. I couldn’t sit still long enough to do anything with it. I finally finished with help and encouragement from many friends. The common thread we found was that my joy and strengths were bringing people together. As the heartbreaking details of Haiti continue to unfold, my thoughts go right away to the book of Esther 4:14,
"For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews (Haitians) will arise from another place... And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"
Such a time as THIS...I couldn’t escape the idea that God was calling me to use what he has given me to make a difference. It fit and made sense.
Words cannot express what seeing the Hope for Haiti telethon on EVERY MAJOR television station meant to me tonight...If any were still in the dark about the gravity of the situation in Haiti, they are no more.
I spent the rest of the day refreshing my inbox to see what came of my REPLY. I checked and checked until I saw the email. It was the same subject and from the same person. This time, it was not an inquiry. It was statement. A statement to those in charge saying: My team will consist of Translator Katty Velez and blah blah blah after that. I don’t remember. I had to go back and read it again and again. What I do remember is that almost immediately, my whole body reacted to the news. I started to tremble and I started to shake. I would be lying if I said I werent afraid and a bit nervous. When I saw the telethon on every station, I sat and wiped streams of tears from my face. I thought, the world gets it. It was an affirmation and thumbs up to me that I wasn’t crazy or foolish or reckless.
In a week or two I WILL be on my way to Haiti. I don’t say this in a bragging way. It’s in a remarkable way. Like I won't believe it until I am there. I will most likely cry all the way there, the whole time there and all the way back and I will more than likely want to go back there once I return. My focus alongside translating is to encourage those I come in contact with and offer a reminder TO HOPE.
I pray to God and I thank JESUS Christ if I get to go. Please pray for the details leading up to and during this trip. Pray for us to be successful in saving some and for the safe return of me and my team.
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