Tuesday-Day 4 in Haiti

by Jess

We woke up today on the 5^th of March, excited for what the day had in store. Today would be the second day that we would be returning to Verrettes, a very poor, rural city at the descent  of the many mountains that border the horizon. As you have probably read yesterday, we returned to the carpenter’s house we were working at, only to have another change in plans (typical Haiti, I guess lol), so we didn’t get as much done as we planned. However, progress is being done and that is what matters. I think the Haitians definitely realize that, too. Especially after the earthquake on January 12, 2010 that devastated the lives of millions, and took the lives of approx. 100,000 people.

Though we weren’t doing physical work, I can say that the love we were sharing with these Haitian children at the village of Verrettes was absolutely life changing to me, so I guess emotional work was being done. During group tonight, everyone had to share something that meant something to them. I’ll use some their responses to highlight our day J

Stacey shared with us today the pride Haitians feel in their work. They are by far the hardest working people. Here’s Jacob’s story (A close Haitian friend). When Jacob was nine or ten years old, his mother passed away, leaving him in the custody of his father. Growing up, Jacob’s mother and father had opposing religious views; his mother was Catholic where his father practiced Voodoo.  Jacob didn’t see eye to eye with his father in regards to being a Voodooist, so he was kicked out and left, basically, as an orphan at only nine or ten (not sure) years old. Jacob was blessed, and had a beautiful personality. He was able build a life better than most Haitian adults. He not only had a goat, a very prestigious possession in Haitian culture, but he was able to buy a piece of land in Verrettes for about 500 dollars. With that, he continued to work and save his money. Now he is 17 years old, and lives in a house he built by himself.  He is truly inspiring to me. If somebody can go through something like that at nine or ten years old, I can go through so much.

 Elle shared a really meaningful message today. Coming to Haiti, white Americans are generally viewed as very rich. Little do they know that we would do anything to value the things they do, and to seek happiness and the ability to revel when such happiness is achieved. All in all, we aren’t the rich ones. They are rich. Rich in culture, beauty, passion, and so many other things I can’t begin to describe.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember who said this because I must have gotten side-tracked and didn’t write it down, but today we were blessed with the opportunity to go to a children’s camp called Ti Moun Tete Ansam (children’s heads together) which teaches the kids morals, values, structure, and also feeds them well. There, we were able to meet Sister Josepha, a Puerto Rican nun that came to lead the children at the camp. Also, there was another missionary there from Poland. There were Haitians, Americans, a Puerto Rican, and a Polish woman. Knowing that so many different races and different types of people could come together and love each other, regardless of the fact that most of us just met that day, is something I wish more people could realize. There are no boundaries or no color of skin that can change the fact that we are all human beings and that we all want the same thing.

 If I had to pick the most influential/important/beautiful moment of my day was seeing the children and spending most of my day with them. One of the sweetest little boys there was named Zita. He was probably six years old. These Haitian children were quite poor, but this little boy was by far more impoverished. He was covered in dirt, had no pants on (the only child there without them), and was picked on and terrorized by the other kids. Knowing this, I automatically wanted to help him. As we were leaving, he scratched his arm on a barbed-wire fence and started to cry. Instinctively, I ran over to him, picked him up, and brought him over to our medical equipment. The scratch was hardly noticeable, but I knew he needed positive attention. He sat on my lap for probably twenty minutes as I put Neosporin and a Band-Aid on his little scrape, and washed his arms, legs, and face off with multiple baby wipes. The entire time I had to try and hold back tears. I knew he had no home life, he had the same clothes on and was even more dirty than yesterday. Debbi plans on talking to Joe (A local Haitian friend, responsible for most our mission work), and we plan on bringing him pants. I know how much this will mean to him because it was obvious to see how embarrassed he was because he had no pants or underwear. The fact that someone at the age of 6, not a baby/toddler, but a child who is embarrassed to be in public naked, absolutely broke my heart. Leaving him Thursday will be a struggle.

Before I head off to sleep, I thought I would share something light and humorous to lift the mood a little lol. Many of the Haitians think Melissa is Chinese or Mexican because she is from the Philippines. One little boy even asked her if she knew Jackie Chan or if she had learned Tai-Kwon-Do! lol.

I’m sure you’ll be hearing from one of us tomorrow, but for now goodnight!

Jess