Random words whirl through my mind but I'm still at a bit of a loss on how to describe this last week. Incredible? Amazing? Even life changing for some. Words fall short. Pieces of conversations, emotions, and memories blend together, making it difficult to put it in words. Sure, I know the stats. 13 houses completed. 400 children fed. Over a hundred pairs of shoes handed out. A 1000 articles of clothing distributed. And most importantly, 185 Bibles given out. But how can I describe what it was like to hug Jen, a fatherless boy, always angry and mean, who cried and covered his eyes just because I broke through his armor and showed him I cared? Or the way Joceleyn's eyes lit up at the possibility of having her own Bible? Or clearly seeing God working in the lives of members of our team? It's been truly an incredible time experiencing Haiti with a team of nine people we barely knew and growing so close in such a short time. Seeing time and time again evidence of God working in and around us. To be part of this was truly beautiful and although you may not get an opportunity to experience Haiti like they did, these pictures will give you some idea of what it was like. |
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Watching them drive away this morning all piled up in the pickup truck, I knew they each had their own story to tell, but it was special to know that for one week their stories were intertwined with ours.
10 houses complete. 57 people now have a place to call home.
I look at the filthy stream and then at Shelley.
She takes off her sandals and wades across, so I follow her example. I clutch my bag in one hand and my flip flops in the other. Today is report taking time. Armed with my camera and notebook we visit each one of the ten homes that MAF has funded and write down the information. With the help of a team from our home town Chilliwack, BC, each home is now completed and all the families have moved in. Since the homes are spread out over a large area we hike a trail on the side of the mountain, walk through ditches and gullies and cross over polluted streams.
Everywhere we go we are welcomed and each family proudly shows us their home.
“How many people sleep in your house?” I ask each family and am amazed at some of the replies. “11 people,” A girl tells me as she sits on the concrete porch rocking her baby.
"Eleven, really? Wow, that’s incredible."
“Can you spell your name for me," I ask a young woman who tells me her name is Faswas. She shakes her head. She can’t write or spell. “But my son Donaldson is going to school," She tells me proudly.
What a blessing these homes are to these people, who now live in a town fondly dubbed Chilliwack.
Shelley can't help but laugh as she holds up the sign.
“Thank you, thank you,” I hear over and over again as we go from one house to the next.
Once we’ve visited each home and I’ve taken down all the information I need, Shelley and I head back to the Apparent Project. Eight new prefabricated homes have just arrived today and are now sitting in pieces, waiting to be put up. With 8 more coming next week that makes a total of 26 homes MAF will put up. Working together with the Haitian people a team of 9 people from Chilliwack hope to arrive November 23. How exciting to be part of this, to have opportunities to witness while working alongside the people. To help the poor who’ve lived in tents for 10 months now, and learn from them.
If you would like an email copy of our latest newsletter regarding the housing project we are working on, and MAF's involvement with the cholera outbreak, please email us at jwkrul@gmail.com.
I push open the small door inside the gate and step through. Dana follows close behind me. Brittany's already here and since there's only one empty seat inside the truck's cab I hop in the back. Jasons' home today since he worked Saturday so it works out great that I can leave Jayden with him. Sitting on the edge of the truck I hold on tight as Brittany fights the potholes and dips in the road. I soon decide to lean a little forward so I don't lose my balance and flip off the side. The sun is comfortably warm as it shines down on me but the roads are dry and dusty so I blink rapidly to keep the dust out of my contacts. We are heading to Child Hope International. Dana's here for a one week visit and she's excited about helping out at the feeding program that she managed for almost a year. It's been several months since I've helped out there due in part to my busy guest housing schedule, and in part to the fact that there's no MAF vehicles available during the day. Thankfully Brittany, another one of my friends, has agreed to pick us up so we could attend. After 15 minutes we arrive at the orphanage and it's fun to see how excited the kids are to see Dana who's been gone for 5 months. |
They crowd around her and hug her and ask how long she's staying. When they hear it's only one week I can see they are disappointed, and I understand how they feel. You just have to appreciate the time you have, I remind myself.I soon get to work organizing the kids so they can participate in games, listen to Bible stories and pray. Once that's going smoothly, I find a spot next to Brittany and spend some time catching up with her. When the kids are finished and the food is ready I get up and help hand out the plates of rice and beans and tin cups of water.No matter how often I do this, it's still always touching to see how thankful the children are for their food, and how quickly they eat it.Once the food and water have all been handed out I spend some time just talking to the kids and patting their shoulders. The kids always love to talk and get very excited when there is a "blan"(white person) who can speak Creole. Many also crave affection and will pull on your arms until you pick up and hug them. What if that was Jayden? I think to myself as I pick up another little child and hold them in my arms. I can't imagine him being so desperate for affection that he would go up to a stranger and beg to be held. I hug one child and then another until it's time to head home. Driving back, my heart breaks as the faces of the children fill my thoughts. Oh Haiti, what a hard place for these kids to grow up.
I bet you've never had your wash machine talk back? I did. What did my machine say? It said, "Hey, that's my blanket! Don't wash that. Let me take that out!"My wash machine really enjoys washing. "This is so fun," my machine keeps telling me, as we both jump up and down covered in soap suds. By the time the wash cycle is done soap suds cover the bathroom floor, walls, and toilet seat. Sigh, I must admit it's messier than most.What is great about my machine is that it's very energy efficient! No big city power bills, not for us, just peanut butter bread and chocolate milk.
Once the machine is finished the wash cycle it does the rinse cycle in a fancy blue wash bin.Washing clothes is hard work. When my machine gets tired it says, "I'll just lay down for a minute Mom."I love my little wash machine!
Isn't she the cutest girl ever!
It's 6:30 Sunday night and already dark outside. As I put the last few dishes in the cupboard I hear a knock on the gate. Maybe it's Denise? The thought flashes through my mind but I hardly dare hope. We have been unable to contact her since Friday morning and with no money how could she get back? Still curious, and half hoping I crack open the front door and slip out into the darkness. Anoud has already opened the little door in the gate and I hear voices on the other side. Walking towards the gate a voice that sounds just like Denise's reaches my ears. I run the last few steps as the little door cracks open. Sure enough there she is. I run towards her and give her a hug. "Mwen sal twop." (I'm too dirty) she protests, but I don't care. Am I ever happy to see her back. "I prayed so much for you Denise," I tell her, "and I'm so happy to see you. But how did you get back?" "Well after the tap tap that was supposed to take me back to Port au Prince turned around and didn't refund my money, I had exactly enough left for one more ticket. So I promised myself, no matter how hungry I got, I wouldn't use it for food, because otherwise I'd never get back home." I take a step back and look her over as she steps under the light. Wow, she really is dirty. Black unruly hair sticks out in all directions around her head. Dirt smudges her face and arms. Her clothes are filthy and clearly portray how thin she's become. "Ou tro piti Denise!" (You're too small/skinny") I exclaim, and she laughs at me. "Mwen pa mange anyen." ( I didn't eat anything) she replies matter of factly. Anoud lifts the sack of whats left of her belongings and she makes her way up the steps. The kids who've been singing for days "Mama ap vini" (Mom is coming") seem happy to see her, but she insists on washing up before touching them. As soon as her belongings are put away she gets to work heating some water. "Let me do that for you I tell her and take the pot out of her hands. I'll make you something to eat too, you go sit down." She laughs at my bossy tone, and then thanks me. I quickly get to work boiling water for her bath, making grilled cheese sandwiches, ice tea, and for dessert a big piece of reeces pieces chocolate square. As soon as everything is ready I hand over the food and she finally sits down to eat. Once she's finished I question her more about her trip. "How come you didn't just fly back from Jeremie?" is my first questions. "I couldn't hear Mr. Jason on the phone when he was talking to me," is the reply. "All I could hear was loud rushing noises." "Were you scared during the storm?" "I was really scared, and the bus station, or tap tap rendezvous, was right by a river and it kept rising and rising." "Where did you sleep?" There was a little building where they parked the tap taps at night, that's where I slept, but it was so horribly dirty." She shudders. "The first night we tried to get back, our tap tap got stuck on the side of the road, so we all slept sitting up in the tap tap." I sigh. I honestly can not imagine what that would be like. "If I don't go back to visit Jeremie for another five years that's soon enough for me," she then tells me. "Next time we just have to time it right with flights," I tell her. "Five years is a long time to not see your family!" She agrees, and then I ask her more about her visit. I'm happy to hear her family is doing well health wise. Her Dad although "very old" according to her, still has a garden to supply food for the family. "My Mom bought a goat with part of the money I gave her," she tells me proudly. "What is she planning to do with the goat?" I ask. "Well, it's their emergency fund. In case of an emergency they can sell it and get a good price for it or they can eat it and use it for food." I'm quite impressed by this since most people don't plan ahead. "I bet it was nice to see them and your brothers and sisters." "Yes," she replies, "the visit was really nice, but the trip, well that's another story." She then looks closer at me, as if to see if I've worked myself to the bone while she was gone. "I really worried about you doing all the laundry by yourself," she tells me. Seriously? She's stuck in a hurricane and she's worrying about how I can do all the laundry by myself? "Well scrubbing hours by hand didn't go so great," I finally reply, "but then Christine came over and helped me with her wash board and rapid washer, and I've just heard about a new, even better method. "What's that?" she asks curiously. "Fill the bath with water and soap, put the laundry in and let Jayden jump on it." "No way!" She exclaims. "Oh yes," I reply grinning.
