Then, of course, there's the down side...

Note to my dear Readers: Today is Tuesday, the 19th of June and I am presently in Gonaives at the Internet Office. It seems that the box that connects the cables for the Internet service at OFCB is in need of repair. It has been out of commission since last Friday and hopefully will be restored by tomorrow. Until then, I hope I haven't caused concern for anyone and that this posting will do for today. It is a long letter so please get comfortable. I have had plenty of time to write the past few days. I will have more fun pictures to share with you the next time. Need to get them organized. As always, thank you for your interest and your prayers. My Love to All!

Today, on the 18th of June, marks the end of the second month of my living in Haiti. I have already seen and experienced quite a bit but still have so much more to learn about and explore. Some things I have found fascinating and others leave me shaking my head in confusion. Of course, everybody would love to have a glorious time no matter where they are or what they do but the truth is, life is not designed that way. There are some very real issues that can be upsetting and change the way you think or feel. I heard a saying in my twenties that I have always liked: Life is what’s so, but it’s also, so what! The whole key is attitude and how you view life.
This brings us to the next topic: Stress. It seems that the human body finds a way to deal with stress in any way that it can and it usually results in an illness of some sort. Sometimes it can take up to a year before an illness or an accident occurs because of stress. My body decided it was time to display the results of all the stress I have been through in the past few months. What I thought was a simple heat rash seems to have manifested into something a little more annoying and potentially serious. My previous personal experience tells me that I now have a real case of Shingles. I experienced it in my thirties but only on the tops of both of my thighs. My doctor explained that Shingles are simply ruptured nerve endings, which can happen when one is under constant stress. Once you have had it, you can be susceptible to having it again. Looking back over the past few weeks, I can now understand and recognize the strange tingling and random numbness I was feeling in my arms and legs prior to the physical outbreak. Currently, the only part of my body that has not been affected yet is my face and the bottom of my hands and feet. I have known people who had it in their eyes and inside their mouth. I am hoping that it won’t go that far. Of course, the heat only aggravates it and seems to stimulate the skin eruptions. Fortunately, I have a ten-day supply of Amoxicillin that was prescribed for me in April after some dental work, but I kept it “just in case”, which I have decided is now! I am hoping that this will help to minimize (too late) the severity of the rash. Aveeno, Benadryl Gel, and Calamine have not been effective. (If anyone has any suggestions or advice, I am open to them). The most difficult part of having Shingles is that it is painful to have anything touching your skin. To give you an idea of what it feels like, I can only compare it to the sensation of how your skin feels when it is covered in fiberglass. It is the very same sensation, only constant. There is also the frustration of resisting the urge to scratch when every part of you has an itch. Scratching is very painful and disturbs the clear tiny blisters that tend to multiply. The ice cold showers offer relief but only while I am in it. If I were an African-American, I would gladly shed my clothes, submerge myself in the cool river, and blend in for the day. Unfortunately, that is not the case.
For my next not- so- good-news, I am still uncertain as to how I should feel about this. I was very upset and angry at first but now I guess I am just somewhat numb. Last week while I was working at OFCB, someone, or several some ones, took it upon themselves to use my bicycle for their own use. I noticed a couple of times that my bike had been moved and the gears were changed. When I came to work last Friday, I asked one of the staff members where I could purchase a lock for my bike. He offered to get one in Gonaives for me over the weekend. Later in the afternoon, I had that “feeling”. I went to check on my bike and saw that it had been moved. I went downstairs to move it back to the place where it was parked. That is when I discovered that the right hand gear shifter was broken. The entire mechanism was separated from the round plastic housing on the handle bar and the cable had been stretched out. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the front reflector was missing and the hardware that held it was twisted and bent to the side. I noticed the mud on it and on the brake handle. There were also a couple of dark patches of rubber on the rear tire where the tread used to be. It became obvious that the bike had been wrecked as well. Now I was seething with anger. I had so many thoughts rushing through my mind. How can someone just take my bike without my permission? How can people just damage someone’s property and put it back without saying a word to the owner? What makes them think that they are entitled to use my bike? What gives them the right to do such a thing? I felt like I did when my apartment had been broken into and my possessions were stolen. So violated! It shattered my trust. Then there was the other side….Well, I knew it was a problem. I saw that the bike had been moved before, that’s why I mentioned the lock. It’s too late to worry about it now! Then the thoughts went back and forth. It’s only a bike. Yeah, but it’s MY bike! I was really enjoying the times I was riding it. Well… I kept saying I was giving everything away. Yeah, but in GOOD condition… not damaged! Well, I did make the decision to not be attached to my possessions. Maybe God was saying, “Okay, let’s see if you are serious. I’ll make it easier for you”. Suddenly I noticed that I was holding my breath so I let out a deep sigh and just shook my head. It’s just stuff! Outwardly, I appeared very calm so no one seemed too concerned. When I showed the damage to a couple of people, they just shrugged their shoulders and smiled. Others thought it was very amusing. I heard my name along with Creole chatter, giggles and laughter, more than I care to count. I had a real sense of being a stranger in a strange land. I finally found Actionnel, who found the guilty party (a ninth grade student), and then confronted him. They spoke for several minutes and then the student walked away. He did not even attempt to apologize to me. The only apologies I received were from Actionnel and the brother of the amateur bicycle rider. Actionnel said he would take the bike to Gonaives to see if he could have it repaired. I looked at my bike thinking that it would never again be the same. I doubted that they could find the right parts to fix it if they could fix it at all. (Hey Bubba, all we need is wire and some duck tape….an inside Redneck joke). I told Actionnel that if it was not possible to repair it, I would be willing accept his Toyota truck as a replacement. He had a very good laugh over that statement. So did I. Ah yes, another lovely day in Haiti. The anger is gone but I am still a little sad. I know when I leave here, the bike will remain in Haiti along with the rest of my possessions, so this is just part of the “letting go” process.
It is unfortunate that this had to happen but it happens everywhere. I cannot judge a country or it’s people by the behavior of one. However, in the short time I have been here, I have observed some attitudes and behaviors that are labeled by the Haitians themselves as “the Haitian way”. A lack of apologizing is one of them. I actually know someone here who is in the habit of saying, “I did that, but it’s not my fault!” In this small community of Bayonnais, there seems to be a general lack of respect for personal possessions because most of what they have is not worth having. They are not accustomed to “taking care” of something valuable. They are familiar with the fact that Americans are usually the ones who bring “the good stuff” from the U.S. and some feel that they are entitled to it. Whatever they desire to have, they expect you to give. Quite a few are under the assumption that because I am from America, I must be rich. I have had to use caution in my dealings with some of the local residents. I have already been confronted by a few who have demanded that I give them money or something I possess and they are not shy about being aggressive. They do not have a problem with “getting in my face” or grabbing my arm or the object that they want. I just have to stand firm and let them know with my body language, facial expressions, and in some cases, their own language, that they will not get what they are asking for. Again, it happens everywhere. It is particularly disheartening when faced with the reality of the situation. I just need to ignore the few bad seeds and keep my eyes on God and my purpose for being here.
Now I would like to give you the down side of actually living here. I have been asked more than once, “How do you like living in Haiti? What’s it like?”Well…if I don’t pay any attention to the heat, the dust, the constant rains, the mud, the mosquitoes, the greasy food, the hot beverages, the dripping perspiration, the body odors, the other odors, the variety of continuous noises (made by animals and humans) and the lack of privacy, it’s not bad at all. I have yet to meet another American who knows what it is like to “live” here in Haiti and call it home, but I would love to have the opportunity. The ones I have met were just “visiting” for a short time and were treated as visitors. They also had electricity 24-7 (when it was working) and fans! Oh, the luxury!
The fact that we are living as a family in a home with young children, makes my situation a little different. I am playing the roll of mother, father, teacher, friend, and disciplinarian. I am using my skills and experiences as a homemaker, educator, spiritual guide, nurse, nutritionist, carpenter, and mechanic. I am limited with the tools and supplies that I currently have for my use. I have eleven children that both love and resent my presence. I have staff members that feel the same way. It is the desire of the founders of MMM for me to teach everyone who lives here or is involved here how to speak English. They also want me to teach them proper etiquette, personal hygiene, care of self and their environment. Again, when you are dealing with a group of people who have never seen a real toilet, much less used one, or a house with a real floor, separate rooms, actual beds, furniture and electricity, it’s hard for them to understand what or how they are suppose to care for it. They love that I am there to show them the way but they resent when I have to correct them or confront them. They love the attention and devotion but resent the discipline and the fact that things need to be done daily and sometimes according to schedule. We have fun but we also have our differences just as any family does. The children are actually more accepting and easier to deal with than the adults that are set in their ways. It is very common. You know, old dogs, new tricks. It has been a challenge and sometimes very frustrating. Especially when dealing with the same important issues repeatedly. I hear myself saying, “I did not come here for this!” when in fact, I did. I just don’t like what goes along with it. I have had to change the way I approach things. I have had to exercise more patience for the fact that they are not aware of many concepts and never had to be. Some examples would be to use the eating utensils and not their hands to eat. The way to hold a knife and fork and how to cut the meat (not very common, but it happened once). Only a small amount of liquid soap (not the entire bottle) is needed to take a bath. The same goes for the toothpaste, shampoo, lotion, laundry soap, dish washing liquid and household cleansers. The cardboard dustpan (that I introduced because they used their hands to gather the trash and dust) does not hold up in water. The trash goes in the trashcan, not on the ground just outside the door. The dishtowel is for drying “clean” dishes only. The potholders are not for grabbing hot coals of charcoal to return to the stove. Because the radio knob goes up to level 10 does not mean you have to set it there. It is not okay to spit inside the house or cough in someone’s face. The fact that the boxers look like shorts does not make them shorts. The book is not for squashing spiders. Words like “please, excuse me, thank you, and I’m sorry” need to be a part of your everyday vocabulary. I am happy to say that I am starting to see results among the children with the concept of manners.
Because I am dealing with a wide range of ages and personalities, my job is continuous and I am constantly moving from one situation to the next and from one person to another. Sometimes several will have a need that requires my immediate attention and my name is constantly called. I have exhausted myself on occasion. Mishaps or disagreements tend to happen when I am in another room. (Gee, I wonder why?) On the days that I am at OFCB, I have to remind myself to take the attitude of “So what!” My absence gives everyone a break and allows him or her to discipline themselves or each other. It allows me the time to regroup and catch my second wind for when I return. It is a slow process, but as a teacher, I am well aware of the stages of the process and the joy of the positive results. Therefore, at the end of the day, when I am saying goodnight to eleven precious souls or kissing the forehead of a five-year-old that is wrapped in my arms, sleeping in my lap, it makes it all worth it. I love being here. I thank God for this moment in time.
Great News!!!
My bike has been repaired and was returned to me this afternoon. The original parts are still there and all looks very well. Yippee! Thank you, Actionnel, for your help in getting it done so quickly.