Haiti 2014, Day 1: Three Airports, a Pool, and a Guitar

Sometimes it felt like this day would never come. After a few years of traveling to Haiti each winter, last year I stayed home. I struggled with the decision, but just didn’t feel God was calling me to go with the team… even though my hubby was.  But this year was different: A new community. A new church. And a new adventure.  We began planning last year about this time as we were arriving to Marshall to begin a new relationship with our new faith family.  We offered the opportunity to join me and Darryl on a journey to Haiti to help some friends of ours at the Ile Aux Enfants Orphanage.  Ten new friends took us up on the offer. 

My son had visited this orphanage many years ago and his heartstrings were tugged. Each time he returned to Ile a Vache (Island of the Cows) to help other friends at one of the two Englise’ Methodiste Churches there, he would take a walk across the island to spend a little time with the children at the orphanage.  The first year my son invited me to join him, my heartstrings were more than tugged… they were yanked to the depths of my heart. And the next year, they were forever tied in knots.  And so this year we are not visiting for a couple of hours one Sunday afternoon, but instead are spending our entire trip there.  We will be assisting with several building repair and maintenance projects.  And of course, we’ll be loving on the 60 plus kids who call it their home. I’ve held a one pound baby here and I’ll rocked toddlers to sleep. I wonder what blessings God will place on me this year.

So today, we gathered at the church and took our first shot of this year’s team. Many more will follow.  We packed and repacked, weighed and adjusted until we could fit not only our own necessities for the twelve days away, but also about 40 adorable dresses some of the ladies at our church made, a bunch of tee shirts for the boys, over 1000 toothbrushes an awesome local dentist gave us, and a bunch of kiddie cups we found at a yard sale.  It’s hard to not bring along some gifts when you begin falling in love with these kids.  But we made it and flew out of Bishop Airport in Flint this year. That landed us in Atlanta for a short layover; just long enough to get a bite to eat, then arriving in Haiti.

 

There is something about looking out the window of an airplane seeing the beautiful aquas and blues in the waters surrounding Haiti. It is stunning. I have never found those colors in paint tubes.  As we enter the capital city of Port au Prince, the land is dotted with plots of soil and foliage, small houses and flat roofed industries. There are still some tents scattered from the old tent cities, but so much has changed. The airport is magnificent now. Luggage carousels, customs counters, escalators, and large oversized tourism posters line the walls. That may not seem like much, but the first time I came through this airport just a few years ago, luggage was taken off the planes and tossed into a large pile on the floor in a pole barn. People surrounded you like bees swarming their honey as they hoped to make a few dollars for their family while assisting you with your baggage… hundreds of bees.  So proud to see all that the people of Haiti have accomplished.

As we drove through the city, life was as vibrant and colorful as I had remembered with walking pharmacies and mobile furniture stores lining the streets.  But no one ran up to our bus to try to sell us anything. No pop, no fruit, nothing.  I almost missed it.  As we wove in and out of the streets, climbing the mountain toward Petionville, there were signs of poverty, yes… but there were also many signs of hope. I saw new businesses, freshly painted signs, new construction underway and new life dotting the landscape. 

As we arrived at the Englise’ Methodist Guest House, we saw previously earthquaked and tumbled walls both rebuilt and painted. They were never painted before, unless you call “concrete” a color. A new ramp had been built to assist teams with their luggage and the pool was cleaned for our swimming pleasure.  I have never seen it clean and usable before. And we did find pleasure. Although the temps weren’t too bad today, topping out in the mid to upper 80’s, we enjoyed the plunge. As I jumped in the deep end for a good cooling, Darryl actually said “I’ve never seen her do that before.” I’m one of those who creep into cold water over the period of about a half hour, only to tip toe around the water attempting to keep the next possible inch of my flesh both dry and warm.  But something was different today. I never thought twice. I just jumped…. and it was… well, like dropping a warm pan in a cool sink of used washing water. It just felt good. 

We also met up with another team from the West Michigan Conference of the UMChurch. Mona, David and others had brought a team of young adults down for some work. Fancy running into them here. It just isn’t a strange place anymore. Familiar faces surfaced all along today’s journey.  Dinner was splendid, as always, and then we settled into a time of devotion and worship. Lindsey brought her guitar and led us in praise songs. She also sang her song about the kids in Africa, the one she wrote. [sigh…] I saw love surface in her face. It turned her skin from fair to red, but she kept singing.  A tear welled up in my eyes as a reflection of that “love, love, love…” she sang about so passionately.

Most of us are turning in early tonight. Getting up at 2:15 this morning and traveling all day does that to you. Tomorrow our wake-up call is at 5. By 6 we’ll be loaded back in the van and headed into the heart of Port au Prince to be dropped off at the bus station. Another full day of travel ahead.  You might label tomorrow “Busses, Boats, and Brand New Experiences.” But tonight I smile. Fan in my ear, giggling teens downstairs playing cards, and memories of a journey begun, simmering in my deepest being.

God is good. To draw each of us away from an overscheduled, goal focused, busy life, to slow the pace… reconnect with friends… and capture new heartstrings in the palm of our hands.  “Good night” friends in Michigan. “Good night” friends in Haiti. “Good night” friends in heaven. The world just got a little smaller tonight.