Monday, January 19, 2015

Day 2: From Gwyn, Kevin, and Laura

Day two observations....

From Gwyn:
  • ·       A boy playing with a soccer ball in the midst of rubble
  • ·         Clean clothes drying on bushes and cacti
  • ·         Styrofoam litter
  • ·         More rivers, lakes (reservoirs?) and green than I imagined
  • ·         Bibles being carried, families dressed for church
  • ·         Bathing and clothes washing in the river
  • ·         Huge loads being carried on heads


From Kevin:
  • ·      Sights and smells brought me back 30+ years to my time in Liberia.
  • ·         So much to see and take in - colors, people in their Sunday finest, markets everywhere, vitality, beauty next to ugliness...
  • ·         Meeting so many folks from Haiti and other parts of the U.S.
  • ·         Anticipating the next adventure

From Laura:

There just aren't even really words to describe what this day has been.  I don't think I can, really.  It's not very often that you can feel yourself changing in real-time, and changing in a way that encompasses all of you - your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual self. 

Haiti is so full of contradictions.  It is simultaneously breathtakingly beautiful and hopeful, and also heartbreaking in its poverty and devastation.  Even as I sit here this Sunday evening and have spent the day witnessing all of these things, I am also recognizing that I don't fully know how I am witnessing and holding those contradictions.  And that, perhaps, is the struggle, isn't it?  Is that the thing that is overwhelming?  The way that I am trying to reconcile those polar opposites, or perhaps the way I am trying to make them fit into my worldview - which before yesterday was only big enough to imagine these things, and has now, today, been given the privilege of witnessing them.

I am sitting on the front porch at MPP with Carla, Rob, and Kevin, and it is just an absolutely gorgeous night.  I hear crickets, and dogs howling, and roosters crowing (yep, at night).  A little while ago, we heard singing and drumming for a bit.  Earlier today on a walk, a man and a woman drove by on a motorcycle with big drums on the back.  I think we all wanted to join them. 

It's not nearly as buggy as I thought it would be - likely because of how dry it is and has been.  It is quite dusty and dry...but I won't complain about the lack of mosquitos...and also won't skimp on the mosquito netting or bug spray.  It's delightfully cool with a wonderful breeze.  This moment is so incredibly peaceful.

My favorite moment of the day: Michelle, Alice, Rachel and I went for a walk off of MPP grounds.  We very quickly ran into a group of children carrying water in dirty plastic, leaking containers.  Two of the children were riding a donkey, also carrying water, which was leaking as they made their way down the dusty road.  The children were quite intrigued by us and began following and posing as we took pictures of the countryside and animals.  As they slowly got up the courage (and perhaps we did, too), they began gesticulating and talking rapidly in Creole.  After much back and forth and utter lack of communication, we realized they were asking us if we had a ball, and they wanted us to play soccer with them.

"Blan!  Blan!" they called us to get our attention, wanting to see our cameras, and Michelle's hat, and Alice's hand sanitizer hanging off her backpack.  Michelle, Alice, and Rachel were able to come up with an impressive amount of French to help us through.  I, helpfully, remembered more Spanish than I have recalled since college and tried those words with a little ASL thrown in for good measure...all of which helped me with absolutely nothing.  Turns out Spanish and Haitian Creole are not at all similar.  Shocking, right?

They asked us for money -- "one dollar?"  One particularly savvy little guy communicated very effectively for a picture with Michelle...and then told her to give him $1.00 for the picture.  When we were finally moving away, they called after us, "Blan!  Blan!," trying so hard to communicate.  Michelle, miraculously, managed to understand  that they wanted us to meet them at 3PM tomorrow, somewhere around the bend in the road ahead of us, for a soccer match. 

I'm struck again with this sense of contradiction -- it is both beautiful and complicated to see how incredibly beautiful the people and the children are.  Driving up to MPP today, we passed town after town of people walking to and from church in their Sunday best.  The girls and women were in beautiful bright, white dresses and the men and boys in pressed shirts and pants looking so very handsome as they carried their Bibles and walked along the rubble and trash on the side of the road.  The contrast of the crisp white dresses surrounded by the dust and rubble and trash is startling - and yet the simple beauty of it made me smile.

The ride to Hinche was incredible.  I was in the back of a van...facing sideways...for three hours...with 8 people (plus the driver and the translator in front = 10)...over roads in various versions of paved.  The switchbacks going over the mountain made some folks feel a little ill, even in spite of the Dramamine we all took before we left.  The main rule of the road seems to be "honk, then go for it."  However, the view was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, but beautiful in a complicated way -- beautiful in that you are high up, looking out at mountains and villages, and more mountains.  Someone in the van described it as being a "moonscape" -- the deforestation and devastation is overwhelming and so apparent.  I'm having a hard time finding words to describe this.

For a short while on the ride in, I was moved almost to the point of tears as I was overcome with a sense of my privilege - and guilt.  How is it that I have lived on this planet for 29 years and never had the experience of seeing, feeling, being in the way that so many people in our world live their entire lives?  In this moment now, I feel so incredibly privileged and amazed to be here.  Perhaps, the people who do not have the privilege of having our eyes opened, our visions of the world shattered, and the opportunity to build it anew...perhaps it is those people who experience a true emotional and spiritual poverty.  I cannot name what I am seeing here, but this culture and these people have an abundance of emotional resilience and spiritual wealth, for sure.  The world as I am seeing it feels more accurate, and painful, and beautiful than I ever could have imagined.  There is a quote by Mary Oliver that comes to mind: "This is the world.  I am not in it.  It is beautiful."

I wrote last night that I was working out what my intention is in being here -- and it is so clear to me now.  I am here to be present, and to witness the joy and the suffering, the hope and the transformation, the resilience and the pain.  In the van today, I felt that I could not open my eyes wide enough to soak it all in.  By the time we arrived, I had reached a point of saturation such that I could not absorb any more.  My senses feel physically full, if there is such a thing.  And what a blessing that is. 

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