Haiti Trip 2013, An Introduction

This morning after I woke up, I lay in bed a long time, filled with nervous energy. I was, I believe, overwhelmed. Overwhelmed thinking of a day during which no one was going to shove food in front of me, tell me where to go and what to do, put me in a car, and make sure that I got there. Overwhelmed by once again being the "madame" of a house, where if we are going to have dinner or clean clothes or an absence of dust kitties, or lights because the electric bill got paid, it was up to me. Overwhelmed by my exposure to a new reality to which I feel responsible.

How do I juggle responsibility for myself, my family, and my newly-acquainted brothers and sisters and children, and do it all well?

Do you know much about Haiti? I didn't. I actually still don't. I probably should have done more research before we went. Briefly, Haiti - or Ayiti in local Creole - is the western (left) part of the Caribbean island of Hispanola, just southeast of Cuba (as you can see from my shower curtain). It was the first black-led republic in the world, and the first independent country in the Caribbean and Latin America. Whoo, Haiti!

Sadly, the US has a history of butting into Haitian affairs, about which you can read in this Wikipedia entry. None of that affected my trip, although I wonder if it lingers in the minds of older Haitians, and whether they see all of the "blancs" as trying to shoehorn "improvements" where they're not welcomed.

One thing I loved about this week's philosophy is that this was not a "we're coming to save you!" journey. It was specifically billed as a learning trip. I soaked up as much as I could about my surroundings, but that wasn't .05% (an official Jacob Vanhorn statistic) of Haiti, and I'm not even close to being an expert on the encapsulated experience.

To go on this trip, we each needed to raise $2200 in support. We raised a tiny fraction of that and paid the rest ourselves. Although it was initially somewhat discouraging, I'm now very grateful that I got to pour as many resources as I needed to into Haiti. I could not have spent our money better on any comforts or groceries or bills or anything else. For those of you who contributed financially, I again thank you with gratitude that words can't express. Because of you, a house is being built for a Haitian family by Haitian laborers and artisans. You helped provide a week's work for our incredible interpreters Dario, Jay, John, and Yvens and our intrepid driver, Gary (so glad he was the one transporting and not me!). And for those who prayed for our trip, thank you. Everyone stayed safe, we got to go everywhere and do everything that was planned, and it is my belief and hope that everyone involved was blessed.

We hung out with orphaned children who connected with us on so many levels that didn't require common language: photos, stored videos, animal sounds, crafts, piercings and tattoos, futbol, percussion, and hair styling. We did grunt work so that experienced builders could put together a house for a family headed by a woman who served as a foreman for our operations (again, without being able to communicate verbally, for the most part), who hauled rebar and gravel and who still managed to tend her farm and even enjoy a well-deserved shower in the rain at the end of one of our work days (although I suspect she went back to work after we cleared out and the rain let up). We visited with families and churches and communities, and we heard so many stories that I want to share with you... But I'm still unsure how best to honor those stories. They deserve to be told. They are incredible, and life-affirming, and faith-challenging. And I'm not confident yet that I know how to convey them, giving them the attention and respect that they deserve.

So, for now, I can only tell you my story. I hope you'll indulge me, and I hope you'll find that this journey means something to you. If you will, allow me to start with some notes I took on the airplane ride from the United States to Haiti. It's the beginning of my Haiti story:

6/8/13 - Saturday, en route
When Jacob announced this trip, I knew that I needed to come. For years, I have longed to go, to meet people from a different culture, and to experience life, not as a tourist, per se, but alongside of its people. I have entertained different theories as to why I haven't been able to go before, but now I realize that God has been saving this trip for when I needed it.

When I committed in my heart to go, I asked James and he was all for it, and for coming with me. We were not yet engaged. It feels like a lifetime ago.

At that time, my back pain still loomed so large in my life that it was my primary travel concern.

Since then, it has taken a turn for the worse (and hopefully worst). I have gotten married. We have transitioned into marriage and co-habitation. My back has either improved or I am becoming accustomed to the constant pulls and shooting pains. Last month, in a shocker of epic proportions, I had a positive pregnancy test. Weeks later, having settled as a family into this new development, I miscarried. Actually, because I have let this progress naturally, I am still in the middle of the process.

This trip has forced me to spend the last week quickly dealing with the loss while looking forward. Bags to be packed. Travel items to be bought. And I needed that. I think maybe we both did.

Because of the busy-ness of life leading up to this trip, I haven't had a lot of time to think about it. We are being reminded to be flexible, but I have no expectations. I am open for this week to be whatever God will make of it. As for now, I am sitting beside my husband, and that is enough.




Pictures are here, if you're interested.