I've never been one of those people that can hide my emotions. I wear my heart on my sleeve, I wear my disappointment on my face and in the slump of my shoulders, and if I'm angry, well, look out! I've got dagger eyes for sure!
I know this is not ideal. I know that this is something that by my age, you'd expect me to have learned a thing or two about at least disguising my feelings for the sake of argument, but I have not.
And I don't think living in Haiti is going to benefit me any in developing that ability.
I feel like I could live in Haiti for another 100 years and I won't get any better at it.
And yes, I know that disappointments are all about perspective, and that I am in control of how I react to issues in my life. I've read all the books, taken all the workshops, I even do yoga and meditation/prayer every day to keep my balance.
Yet, here I am, long in the face yet again.
I keep setting myself up for failure because I keep counting on others. I should know better, right?
The Psalmist reminds us not to put our faith in princes, or man, for there is no salvation there.
But isn't part of growing in the community about putting some trust in your fellow man?
Maybe I am reading things out of context because a. I am not so awesome that I can do everything and 2. occasionally I am not capable of doing everything for myself and I MUST ask others to help.
So, God please grant me the patience to see the lessons these occasions offer, instead of the disappointments. And please help me to disguise my disappointment when I fail at seeing the lessons offered. Amen
My Year in Haiti
It's All About the Children
Monday, July 23, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
How poor is poor?
Yesterday I had the privilege of visiting one of the settlements north of Port au Prince. Some friends of ours have a little chunk of property out there and they had 5 houses built for some of the earthquake survivors they knew. I really thought I'd seen the worst of it. Then I went there.
The drive out to the settlement takes us through several other small villages that I've seen on the 2 trips I've made up the coast. Then we take an abrupt right and head out to the plains, just before the mountains to the north. This is seriously land that good men have forsaken.
To begin with, Haiti has long been victim of massive deforestation and over farming, leaving the land blanched and dried, and desert-like. Next, there's really no moving water to help take away some of the waste, so the entire area is much like the back end of a flea bitten dog, and just about as loved.
There are tracts of houses built by odd NGOs here and there. Some structures are extremely temporary, not meant to be lived in for more than a few months. Yet here are families, 2 1/2 years after the earthquake, still living in these tents and stick and tarp homes. There are wooden structures, which are not very practical for Haiti's climate, meant to last about 3 years, so, let's say they are on their last 1/2 year of life expectancy. There are some tin shanties, and occasionally a brick and mortar structure, usually unfinished.
Apparently, the government is intending to survey the land, and plan out the roads and turn this into a permanent community. They even have their own police station. But even if they put up street signs and create a mapped community, this will still be little more than a tent city, with a few schools and many churches and very little infrastructure.
There are wells with pumps spread sporadically throughout the area. The water must be riddled with parasites. Every so often we would pass a clean water vendor. I wonder if they really are selling clean water. The roads are nearly impassable, resembling more of a baja bmx bike course than a village or subdivision. I can only imagine how much more difficult it must be to go in and around there during the rainy season.
Most people have no access to waste facilities, and simple do their business in a bucket, the contents of which is then strewn about their yard.
We met one woman who has a 3 year old son, born by emergency c-section that took too long, who now suffers from severe CP. He just lies on a tarp on the floor of her one room house, naked from the waste down, covered about the head with flies. He cried nearly the whole time we were there. The woman's daughter had just passed away a few days before, they suspect either from AIDS or TB. Her brother lives with her, he's deaf. Also, she is taking care of her grandmother, who looked like a stick figure in a dress, sitting on the floor of their home, tracing circles in the dust around her feet.
There were a lot of young ladies around, many had small children, some where pregnant with more souls to be sentenced to this hard life in Haiti.
We met some young men that had created a few "art" pieces by carving either stones or large chunks of ceramic. A few of them looked like birds and one of them I think we voted it was an addidas soccer shoe. Funny. They tried to hawk their wares, and one of the ladies visiting from Indiana decided she would make a mercy purchase.
"Konbyen sa?" How much for this?
"Fifty dollars"
Wow! The laughter that ensued.
We finally settled on a price of 50 Gourdes (fifty goods) or about $1.25 USD.
We had gone out to meet the biological mother of the daughters of the woman from Indiana. Unfortunately, because none of the ladies out in this desolate place have cell phones, she wasn't around while we were there.
Back in the trucks we went. Humbled and perspectives sharpened.
It's hard living in Haiti. Harder still to think of the millions of dollars that have flowed in since the earthquake and how little actually got spend on programs or processes to help the people of Haiti to create a more sustainable life.
Such waste in teaching these people that God wants them to propagate at such alarming rates.
Depoprovara, that's what Haiti needs, in copious amounts. And clean water. And public bathrooms. And better sources of fuel. And roads. And schools, real schools, schools that teach skills that can be used to obtain income, financial support. And prayers, lots of prayers.
The drive out to the settlement takes us through several other small villages that I've seen on the 2 trips I've made up the coast. Then we take an abrupt right and head out to the plains, just before the mountains to the north. This is seriously land that good men have forsaken.
To begin with, Haiti has long been victim of massive deforestation and over farming, leaving the land blanched and dried, and desert-like. Next, there's really no moving water to help take away some of the waste, so the entire area is much like the back end of a flea bitten dog, and just about as loved.
There are tracts of houses built by odd NGOs here and there. Some structures are extremely temporary, not meant to be lived in for more than a few months. Yet here are families, 2 1/2 years after the earthquake, still living in these tents and stick and tarp homes. There are wooden structures, which are not very practical for Haiti's climate, meant to last about 3 years, so, let's say they are on their last 1/2 year of life expectancy. There are some tin shanties, and occasionally a brick and mortar structure, usually unfinished.
Apparently, the government is intending to survey the land, and plan out the roads and turn this into a permanent community. They even have their own police station. But even if they put up street signs and create a mapped community, this will still be little more than a tent city, with a few schools and many churches and very little infrastructure.
There are wells with pumps spread sporadically throughout the area. The water must be riddled with parasites. Every so often we would pass a clean water vendor. I wonder if they really are selling clean water. The roads are nearly impassable, resembling more of a baja bmx bike course than a village or subdivision. I can only imagine how much more difficult it must be to go in and around there during the rainy season.
Most people have no access to waste facilities, and simple do their business in a bucket, the contents of which is then strewn about their yard.
We met one woman who has a 3 year old son, born by emergency c-section that took too long, who now suffers from severe CP. He just lies on a tarp on the floor of her one room house, naked from the waste down, covered about the head with flies. He cried nearly the whole time we were there. The woman's daughter had just passed away a few days before, they suspect either from AIDS or TB. Her brother lives with her, he's deaf. Also, she is taking care of her grandmother, who looked like a stick figure in a dress, sitting on the floor of their home, tracing circles in the dust around her feet.
There were a lot of young ladies around, many had small children, some where pregnant with more souls to be sentenced to this hard life in Haiti.
We met some young men that had created a few "art" pieces by carving either stones or large chunks of ceramic. A few of them looked like birds and one of them I think we voted it was an addidas soccer shoe. Funny. They tried to hawk their wares, and one of the ladies visiting from Indiana decided she would make a mercy purchase.
"Konbyen sa?" How much for this?
"Fifty dollars"
Wow! The laughter that ensued.
We finally settled on a price of 50 Gourdes (fifty goods) or about $1.25 USD.
We had gone out to meet the biological mother of the daughters of the woman from Indiana. Unfortunately, because none of the ladies out in this desolate place have cell phones, she wasn't around while we were there.
Back in the trucks we went. Humbled and perspectives sharpened.
It's hard living in Haiti. Harder still to think of the millions of dollars that have flowed in since the earthquake and how little actually got spend on programs or processes to help the people of Haiti to create a more sustainable life.
Such waste in teaching these people that God wants them to propagate at such alarming rates.
Depoprovara, that's what Haiti needs, in copious amounts. And clean water. And public bathrooms. And better sources of fuel. And roads. And schools, real schools, schools that teach skills that can be used to obtain income, financial support. And prayers, lots of prayers.
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