Inspiration

I had posted a blog back in January about Jacquiline and how much she gives me encouragement and continues to inspire me in Haiti. http://angelicaheartforhaiti.blogspot.com/2011/01/being-part-of-creative-process.html I shared about how she had this idea for a bag made out of coffee bean sacks. The bag was quite a good idea but needed some tweaking. I searched out ideas and ran across a bag from another missionary from Canada, her bag was exactly what I had, had in my head. I showed it to Jacquiline not knowing what she might come up with. Well like I shared the bags have been a huge hit among team members, I have also sold many in the US and am searching out other places she may be able to sell them. I also had been hearing through the ‘grapevine’ that HAPI has
an order for over 2000 of the bags. I passed by the Co-op the other day to visit Francoise and say hi to the other artisans and was amazed at what I saw.
Four of the artisans were busy at work that day making Jacquiline’s messenger bags! Incredible! Way to go Jacquiline I am so proud of you. Even still Jacquilne searches out new projects and new things she can make to make a living at to provide for her family. I look forward to sharing other projects she comes up with in the future.

Building is 'man's work'

After tearing apart the old house I was looking at one of the doors for the window of the house. It really was quite beautiful but needed to be worked on. I thought it was a shame for these old boards to just be tossed aside so I decided I was going to make a table out of it. We took out several of the cross beams of the ceiling too so I searched through the scraps to find something that would be suitable for the table. It would be a lovely little end table for beside the bed. However most of the Haitians thought I was crazy for wanting to salvage this old yucky door; they thought it might be ok if I painted it. But I wanted it the natural wood color and instead of putting new 2x4’s for the legs as they suggested I wanted to use the old wood. I wanted to celebrate the life of this old house. Any work with ‘tools’ in Haiti is ‘man’s work’. So I was determined I was going to build this table without the help of the boys. They watched me puzzled not sure that a girl was capable of doing this, or at least she would need help. It became increasingly obvious I was at least going to need another set of hands so I pulled in Gabriel to help me out. She was intreiged by the idea, and when her older brother who had not been there all day stepped into help she proudly and teasingly told him ‘No, only women are making this table.’ You could tell she was excited about this project so the two of us sawed away making the legs for the table.

We had finished and shortly after I looked over and a proud smile came across my face. Gabriel had jumped into help shovel cement when one of her brothers left. She just had this look of determination and empowerment on her face as She did the ‘man’s work’. I am a very independent woman and take pride on being able to do ‘men’s work’, I am also always encouraging the men to do the ‘women’s work’ such as washing dishes and clothes. There are definitely still specific roles that each gender play in Haiti similar to those roles we have in the US but you don’t see them being broke as often as you do in the states. (As a side note one of our staff for Living Media the other day informed us that men can’t be nurses in Haiti. He knew that it is not true but that is just the way it is here. I have also heard one of our students say she wants to be a doctor and one of the young men in the class said you mean a nurse and she said very confidently, ‘no, a doctor’.)
Sometimes we don’t ever know how a little thing we might do, have an effect on someone or how it might affect the future. Yesterday Gabriel was looking for the other scrap piece of wood that was in my house because she wanted to make a table for her pati selling business in the market. I looked at the scraps of material she had and thought there is no way she can make a table that will stand out of that. As I heard her sawing away I wanted to step in and say something but I decided not to. It was more important that she had this idea and was following through with it, then whether or not it would work. And who knows no one thought I could build a table either. (of course mine isn’t exactly finished yet, but it has a really nice top.)

Travel in Haiti

Travel in Haiti is unpredictable and often times unusual you never know how you might travel. The other day we waited for Tigo to show up with the truck to ride down to Jacmel to clean out the Art Gallery. After waiting a little over an hour for the truck to come, it arrived very full and we wondered where we would sit, since there was three of us. The truck already had 16 people, 14 goats, 6 large bunches of bananas (the way they hang off the tree not the little bunch you buy in the store), and at least 6 large bags of produce of different sorts about double the size of the large charcoal sacks in the United States. All this was in Tigo’s little Toyota pick-up truck. I was ready to ride up on top of the cab with two other people there, there is a rack you can sit on; but a woman in the cab gave up her seat for me. I was grateful but I have rode up on the top of that rack before. You never know what will be carried on a truck. This is a picture of a truck we passed by when I was driving through Port-au-Prince last week.
Other unusual travel, the other day we went down to Jacmel on the motorcycle we almost always travel with 3 people on a motorcycle and I have seen as many as 6 people (some children) on a motorcycle before. But as we were down at the Texaco getting our internet a huge storm rolled in. The sky was dark grey, the wind was blowing and it was pouring down rain. I was already making plans in my head to stay at the gallery down in Jacmel but the guys were definitely ready to head up the mountain. I was out voted. When the rain let up a bit, we packed up our things and walked out the door only to find the rain had picked back up again. As my heart raced, I thought about going up that slippery mountain on the motorcycle getting drenched in the rain. Then Kenson (our driver and friend) pointed out that, the ambulance in front of us were going to Bainet which is about twice the distance. I thought about it and Lee and Kenson encouraged me. The next thing you know I was tapping on the window of the vehicle. Excuse me sir I said, Do you think you could give us a ride up the mountain to Mizak. He asked me some questions back, how many people, where are you going again, then, he said he wasn’t sure his boss would agree. Finally I asked, “Aren’t you here to help people? Well, I need help.” Finally he agreed. He said we could look in the back for where we could sit. There was just a little bench back there and a girnie. We all squeezed on the little bench. I was so grateful when we got to the river and saw the water rushing over the road. There is no way we would have crossed on the motorcycle. We would have had to turn back to Jacmel having already been soaked. I gave a little ‘mesi’ to God; especially after crossing the river and seeing all the streams of water coming down the road making its own rivers, washing rocks away in the process. I was so relieved to be finally be home safe and sound.

A work day

Why do I feel exhausted sometimes even though I am not ‘working’ that much. For example like today, I taught English for 2 hours and then spent a few hours working and communicating with family on the internet. But I feel exhausted. In the United States I can easily work a 10 hour day, so why does it seem that 10 hour day is equivalent to a 5-6 hour day in Haiti. I realized the answer to this question the other day when I was writing my brother and bel-suer (sister-in-law). I was telling them that I don’t have physical labor here but I feel emotionally drained.
Everyone around me has nothing. They have nothing to do, no jobs, few opportunities and little hope for the future. Because I have money to buy toilet paper and water and eat twice a day, I am rich. On a regular day I walk to English class and pass children wearing rags sometimes no shoes, carrying water on their heads for their families to bathe and cook. Some of the children are as young as 4 or 5. Then I see men working in the fields of their gardens and when I return at the end of the day they are still there throwing a pick ax, digging up all the land by hand. I then work with young adults who are eager to learn English in hopes that it might give them some sort of future, or some have said, ‘because I have nothing else to do, there are no jobs’.
After class I walk through the market area where an old lady from another zone, may hold out her hand in desperation hoping I give her 10 goudes (25 cents) to help her family. I walk back to my house to collect all my things, to then go down the mountain for internet on the motorcycle praying for our safety on the bumpy road that has loose rocks and parts that are washed away from the rain. Praying all the way home, as I look out over the beautiful land that God has created and wonder about the people’s lives in the little huts below and about Haiti’s future.
At the day end of the day I sit down to a wonderful meal that has been prepared for me, while the rest of the family eats plates full of rice and beans sometimes with a hunk of ‘meat’ (we would probably throw away these parts in the US – I am not sure). I feel guilty eating me chicken leg, lettuce, carrots and Kool-Aide; and yet I know other families that will not even have that plate of rice and beans. When I lay my head on my pillow in my little 8’ by 9’ foot room, I think about the people that still have to sleep in tents and those that sleep on the floor because there are not enough beds for everyone in their house. It is a hard life in Haiti, no doubt. I often wonder how the Haitians survive, but they do. They are inspiring and determined to work toward a brighter future, even when there seems to be little opportunity. I am happy to work alongside with them to find that glimmer of light and contribute what I can to help them find what they are looking for to have a better future. I just have to remind myself that the ‘work’ is not the same as in the United States and some days when I am do and visit with my neighbors it may be some of the most important work I do. And sometimes it is exhausting being faced with the harsh realities of this world on a daily basis.

Peace and Happiness

Today, Sunday, was International Peace Day celebration at the Peace Park in Mizak, with the theme of peace and happiness. Unfortunately, we didn’t stay very long in the services. There were many people there young and old, the new playground equipment and the blown up beach balls for decorations added lots of colors to the celebration. But I had a bit of a headache so I decided I might be of more use and more at peace myself if I could help out in the kitchen. Selene was happy to see me and handed me a grater and a bowl of coconut. I grated the coconut for a short time until my hand got tired and I asked for another job. I was given a tub of boiled carrots, potatoes, and beets to cut up. I was happy as the people and the kitchen festivities moved in rhythm around me; but soon we had to go to English class.
In class, I read a book, “Small Pig”, by Arnold Lobel about a pig who found his home in the ‘good, soft, mud’. A story about the comforts of home and the peace in your soul that comes “[When you] sit down, and sink down into the good, soft mud.” At the end of the second English class we sang Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ in brought my heart happiness as I sang along and watched the students singing along and jamming out, proud that they know all the words in English.
After four hours of English class I waited around the center for Lee to finish the poverty intervention meeting. I sat in on the Creole Literacy Classes watching as all the students wrote their names on the board; after the angels sang a beautiful little song, that reflected the rhythm of the county. I couldn’t understand all the words but the rhythm of the music spoke to my soul and reflected the cadence of this beautiful country. The voices moved with the march of the tired madam carrying water for her family. I felt Haiti inside of me and that was peaceful and filled with happiness.

Blessings in Disguise

There is always room for one more and we take care of people

Finally we were heading down to Jacmel after making a side trip of 2 hours. A man in the street stopped us in Mizak to see if we were going to Jacmel, he had things to load up and take to there. We pulled up the road to the Dispensary. They had been working and had all their tools plus cement bags, planks of wood, and a wheel barrow. A few people got out of the truck as we loaded up all these supplies. We were not sure how everyone was going to fit on the truck but it worked, it always seems to work. We were off down the road again, with that sweet baby girl in the red dress beside me fast asleep. Just a little bit down the road we had to pull over; one of the gentlemen in the back had passed out. They poured water on him and asked him how he was doing. He threw up over the side of the truck. Some of the other men were asking him questions, the rest of the people were waiting patiently and wondering what would happen next. After a bit the man came to and said he had to go to the bathroom, right away people started making small references to Cholera. But this was not cholera, they reassured. I think the man had not had anything to eat today and probably little to drink. Then he was riding in the blazing sun in the back of a truck down bouncy miserable roads. We set off again; Tigo stopped by his house just a bit down the road and had his sister bring the man 2 packages of saltine crackers. Sometime later we arrived at the ‘bus station’ to go to PaP. The man who was sick got out; others were shouting he needed to go to the hospital in Jacmel.
I just watched, wondering what they were all going to do. The man walked down a steep hill and lay down against it. I told Tigo “We can’t just leave him here.” he said the man was going to PaP; he didn’t want to go Jacmel. I was frustrated, what to do? It didn’t seem right and yet what can we do so I whispered to Tigo ‘Then get him something to drink before we leave.” Tigo wondered off between the crowds of people going to PaP. He came back with a Sprite and a little bag with some sort of food in it and took it down to the sick man. The people left on the truck were happy saying ‘oh bon chauffeur, bon chauffeur’. I felt better too, we did what we could and we planned on checking on him when we came back to see if he was still there. We could have taken him to the hospital but he didn’t want that. But we could have left him there with nothing, too. Sometimes you just do what you can do for a person at the time.