Bonswa!

Today has been my favorite day yet. We set up a minor medical clinic in the courtyard of a lady we met. We didn’t hand out anything stronger than cough syrup & Advil, but there is a tremendous shortage for these kinds of medications here. We also treated eye infections, scabies, ringworm, and intestinal worms. Fun times!

I actually didn’t treat any of the patients or hand out any medicine. My job was to hand out other items. The Dollar General on Harrisburg Road gave us a huge bag of flip-flops and some other items. There is a lady in our town who felt like she needed to do something for the people of Haiti, but due to her age, she couldn’t travel. Instead, she made 7,000 pairs of children’s shorts (YO!) and we took probably 200 of them down on this trip. It was my job to give these shoes, shorts, and some basic toiletry items out to the people. I’ve never seen people who were so grateful for a bar of hotel soap. Of course there were a handful of people who wanted anything and everything & more of that but not that color and can I have more please – but you’ll find that in any country on earth. Overall, it was really great to meet so many needs with such basic things. At one point I was splitting up boxes of off-brand crayolas & giving each kid 5 or 6 wrapped in a hair band. American kids would think “Hey! I’m not at a restaurant needing to color a placemat with disposable crayons to keep me occupied! I don’t need this crap!” But these kids were really upset when I ran out.

We saw about 200 people today for everything from headaches to fevers, but the patient I was happiest to see was a man we met yesterday in the jungles. We were walking through the villages and a man was sitting in the back of the truck. He had large, open sores all over his legs that were festering and nasty. I didn’t have anything to give him. We tried to talk to him, but some people explained that he was mentally retarded & had difficulty speaking. We told him about the clinic, but I don’t know how much he understood. We came back for lunch & I got some neosporin & large waterproof band-aids. Then, I prayed that we’d find him again. That afternoon I recognized the path and the huts near where he was, but the truck he was sitting in was gone. We went to talk to a family and while we were there, he walked up. Without knowing it, we had walked up to his house. I pulled out the items and told a woman (maybe his sister?) that we had prayed to find him and bring him something to help him. I wanted to help them put the band-aids on then because flies were all over these terrible wounds. But, they said they’d help give him a bath first. I wasn’t planning to help with that, so I told her how to apply the neosporin & we went on our way.

In the Bible, we are told that God loves the least of these — the ones that society overlooks. In other words, regardless of your station in life, the amount on your paycheck, or the number of degrees on the wall of your office, God loves you and sees you as equal with all of His creation. I think it was beautiful that He answered this prayer to find a mentally-challenged young man & help him. Does this help build up His church? Maybe not directly. Does this honor the heart of God? You bet!

The thing is: You don’t have to go to Haiti or Belize or Afghanistan to find the least of these. You don’t even have to look in poverty. I want God to help me notice the outcast, the lonely, the forsaken, and the poor around me in Arkansas. And, I know this is a request that He will grant.

At the end of the clinic,  I met a woman. Some people told me she also had mental problems, but that wasn’t the case. She was deaf. It’s not like there are schools for the deaf or even an official sign language in Haiti. So, I can’t imagine the difficult life this woman has had. But, this woman used motions and signals and she and I had a lovely conversation. She has 6 children, 3 boys & 3 girls. None of them are hers by birth, but all given to her by God through adoption. She lives in a lovely home with one of her daughters. She even brought me over to meet this daughter. I showed her pictures of my girls and shared about my family. We didn’t have the same language — and she couldn’t have heard me anyway, but it worked. And what an amazing story she has! She was a social outcast, but instead of feeling sorry for herself or playing a victim, she took in 6 orphans. In Haiti, the living conditions for an orphan are horrible. Their future is bleak. This woman took in these children and provided for them and loved them and now they have a future. I was honored to spend time with this lovely woman that some local people said was crazy and deaf and not to be bothered with. 

What a blessing I would have missed out on if I hadn’t spent time with her! In the picture above she is with one of her daughters. You can see the pride on her face and the love on her daughter’s. I seriously wish you could all have met her.

Tomorrow we’ll visit a school and then we’ll get to go see the beach. Then, very early Friday morning we’ll head to the airport & start our journey home. I’m glad I’ve been here, but I am missing my family like crazy cakes! So, it will be good to see them and hug them and spend an entire day loving my sweet sugarbabies.

I do feel sorry for the people we will share the plane with. It’s been HOT. We’ve sweated. We really stink. Our clothes stink, our hair stinks — we STINK. The other people on the plane may decide to get off once we get on. I brought a can of Febreeze, so we currently plan to spray ourselves down before we try to board. We consider this to be a public service.

P.S. Bonswa (Bonn-swah) means Good Afternoon/Good Evening. Now you know Kreyol Ayitian tu piti!

Tags: haiti, the least of these

Notes from Today

Today we went to a Haitian church service. Many of the hymns were the same, so we were able to sing along. About 30 minutes before the service, the pastor asked Bobby (one of the ministers from our church who is the leader of this trip) to preach the sermon. Then, when he got up there and introduced Bobby, he also asked each of us to come up and speak. It was humbling to think that I had anything to say to these fellow believers — most of whom had been through much more than I have.

After lunch they drove us to a village where we were going to tell some stories from the Bible and talk to people about Jesus. Hundreds of years ago, Haiti was owned by the French. The plantation owners brought in African slaves and told them that they had to be Catholic. However, the forced baptisms and conversions of the time were not genuine (or desired). So, the African religion of VooDoo was hidden under Catholicism so the slaves could continue their own religion. I’m sure if someone tried to take away my faith, I’d do something like that to keep it as well. Over the years, the version of Jesus’s story that most Haitians have heard became a confused, combined, and corrupted thing mixed with Voodoo and old pagan practices. There’s many untruths that have to be picked out. So, it’s not enough to ask someone if they know about Jesus. So, we’ve been telling stories about Jesus that come straight from Scripture — no additives.

We met several people who were willing to hear us, but three women stick out in my mind.

Odette was injured in the earthquake. After some debris hit her on the head, she developed hearing problems and blurry vision. We prayed for healing for her. The Bible tells many stories of how Jesus healed people (and even brought them back to life) and I’ve heard many modern-day stories of how this continues. I’ve even seen His healing in my own life and the lives of people I know. So, I believe that Odette can receive healing for her injuries through prayer. (Would you join me in this?)

Sylvia was a mother of three kids who is barely making it. They still live in a plastic-tarped temporary shelter built by Samaritan’s Purse. She has a job, but I could tell it was difficult for her to scrape by. She told us that she believed in Jesus and used to go to church, but not any more. When I asked why, she said that at one time she did not have any money for food. Some people had given her a Bible and she treasured it. She went to her pastor and asked him to help her find food. He said he only would if she would give him her Bible. I could see the anger and resentment in her eyes as she told the story — and I understood it. Here was a man who represented God to her and who should have been a servant. He was fallable and messed up. I don’t know the man, so I don’t know if he’s corrupt or if he’s a fraud or any of the other things I want to assume about him. One thing did come to mind: How many people all over the world in all cultures won’t allow Jesus to bring hope and renewal to their lives because they met someone who claimed to be a follower but acted like a jerk? These people who hurt us — because they are human and fallable and make mistakes — are not God. Their mistakes are not His. It grieved me to see how she was angry at God for the mistake of a man. I didn’t have a Bible with me, but we told her about the church and about the good pastor we knew. We also prayed that God would send her a new Bible. We’ll try to get one to her, but there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to find her again. Will you pray that God sends her a new Bible and a church where she can learn to trust the people again?

The last woman we met was named Alchemy. She listened to my friend tell her story about how Jesus changed her life. She listened to some stories from the Bible. The entire time she was glued to us and I could tell that the stories were connecting with her. But, she was there with a man. I’m not sure if he was her husband or boyfriend or brother or whatever. He was not interested in Jesus – which is his choice and it’s not my job to push him. But because he was there and wasn’t interested, it was keeping her from asking these questions we saw she wanted to ask. You could tell she had something to say, but was having to sit on it. The sad thing was her face as we left. She kept craning her neck to watch us as we walked away. I knew she wanted to talk more, but didn’t feel like she could. However, at the end of our time with this couple, several more people came up. One was a man who holds a type of Vacation Bible School right there every week. Would you pray with me that he would have a chance to talk to Alchemy and this man? I know she wanted to hear more.

Sorry that there are no pictures from today. I didn’t feel right whipping out my camera and taking pictures of people. I mean, if someone came door-to-door at my house and talked to me and then asked if they could take my picture, I’d say no. So, I wanted to respect the Haitians we met as well. Instead, I’ll show you a picture of where we are staying.

There’s a set of 3 small buildings with 4 beds in each. It’s not fancy, but it’s very clean and I have great roomies. We have actually named our little house The Hut of Awesomeness.  It’s the one on the left in the picture. The trees behind the buildings are papaya and coconut and something else. At night the fruit will drop on the tin roof and it makes a loud bang. Until we got used to it, it would really startle us. The worst are the mangoes — they sound like a shotgun going off!

The girls asked me tonight on the phone if they could see my bed. Here’s a pic of the inside of The Hut of Awesomeness:

Did you guess that the one with all of the crap on it is my bed? How did you know?!?!

Beanie, I have the picture you drew me right above my pillow. You can’t see it well in this picture because of the mosquito netting. Because I’m a nerd who is freaked out about malaria, I pull it down every night. But, I haven’t really seen a ton of mosquitos. My bug spray seems to be all I need.

I’ll post more pictures of the compound later. For now, I’m going to bed!

Foto! Foto! Foto!

Today we had the chance to go to an orphanage and hand out some flip-flops, shorts, and basic toiletry items.Before the quake the orphananage was a building. Now it is a few cinderblock buildings and a large tent that serves as their schoolf the kids did not have shoes and more than one toddler was running around without any pants. There were 90 kids and I saw only 3 or 4 women there to care for them. They were doing their best, but with the limited resources and the large number of new orphans due to the quake, it is difficult. The kids were mostly very affectionate & loving  many of the little ones just wanted to be held. All of them wanted me to take their picture and then let them see it on the camera screen. A kiddo would come up and grab my arm and say “Foto! Foto! Foto!”

 

These two met me at the car & claimed me as theirs for awhile. They wanted to hold my hand and ask me any English question they knew. Of course I wondered if they were wanting attention so they could get something or if they were just hungry for any human interaction. I know that with so many kids and so few caretakers, that these older girls were basically raising themselves. All I could do was pray for their future and that they would actually have one.

 In a country where 85% of the population is unemployed, what kind of jobs will these girls be able to have once they are no longer under the care of the orphanage? They do go to some sort of school, but I’m not sure how many skills they will have learned from a few broken chalkboards under a tent. A church in Arkansas (not ours) is building them a new permanent home, and that will be good.

Many of these children don’t have birth certificates for themselves or death certificates for their parents. This makes them unadoptable according to government regulations. But in a place that was so poor before the quake and is now poorer, it is a genuine tragedy that these children do not and cannot have a permanent place. Once the church builds the new orphanage, only those with proper documentation will be able to move there. The rest of the kids will stay with the tent and the cinderblock huts with no possibility of a family taking them in — Haitian or otherwise.

The little boy in my arms is Patico. He’s the same age as Peanut. He kept this angry look on his face the entire morning. He would hold me and hug me, but all the time hisbrow ws furrowed. It’s no wonder — in his 3 years he has known loss and poverty and mud and the concrete walls around his orphanage. My Peanut is a ray of sunshine — but how esy it is for her to be so. She has an abundance of food, family, attention, chances, and more toys than the 90 kids at the orphanage combined. Her room is the size of the huts that many families live in.

I don’t write these things to put you on a guilt trip. There is no benefit to be had from guilt trips. I want to take away from this trip a renewed sense of gratefulness and compassion. The next time I get frustrated that my laundry room is so narrow, I want to stop and realize how fortunate I am to have a washer and dryer and mounds of clothes to choose from. I want to have compassion for these children who were born into another country and another situation from mine and therefore won’t have the choices that my girls will have.

I also really want to be able to do more for people in need than just a baggie with a toothbrush and pencils. I can’t solve Haiti’s problems. This country has been given over 3 billion in aid since the quake, but the only real evidence of change we’ve seen so far are a few building projects and a diplomat’s $130,000 imported diesel Land Rover. The good news is that before the quake unemployment was at 90%. So, there’s actually been a 5% improvement.

Right now, to battle the cynicism that so easily sets in, I’m praying for a leader to be raised up from his people — someone who will enable these kind and strong people to move on and build their country’s infrastructure. It would also be nice if this leader institutes a system for taking away garbage. Imagine an entire country with no garbage trucks and no landfills. Trash piles were everywhere in the city — just sitting there until they rotted down.

I’m also praying for God to show me beauty everywhere I go. It’s too easy to see only the trash and only the mosquitos and only the mud. But this land and these people were created by our mighty Creator and were created in His image the same as I am. He has been faithful to answer this prayer. I honestly didn’t notice the mud and the ick that was surrounding the orphanage until we left. All I saw were the precious lives He has created and their beautiful smiles.

Tags: haiti, traveling

Not the Destination I Was Anticipating…..

“Peanut, where is Mama going?”

“She’s going to Hades!”

We are working on Peanut’s pronunciation and her theology. But, she is right that I’m heading out. No blog posts, no answers to texts or emails, and no phone calls from me for a week. How will you all ever survive?

My parents & in-laws will be at my house with my kiddos.  I will be in Haiti. Pictures & stories to follow…..

 

Time for a Video Break

I saw this video on another blabby blog I enjoy reading and wanted to share it with y’all. It reminded me of the beautiful necessity of grace in our daily life as well as eternity. Loved it.

 

Omie’s Quilt

I’ve been working on a quilt for my bud Britty’s daughter Omie. (No, her real name is not Omie. ((No offense to anyone actually named Omie.)) But my kids mispronounced her name like that and we like it. And here on The mab Blab, you know that everyone gets a nickname. Everyone. Because that’s how I roll.) Omie’s grandmama had some fabric left over from a project and asked me to make a quilt from those prints. I ordered a few other fabrics to coordinate (because we didn’t have quite enough to make a good-sized quilt) and I’ve been working on the blocks this week. I think it’s going to turn out well! Here’s a shot of the fabrics:

Some of these were from my stash and I ended up tossing them out (the dots & the solid green) because I thought there were too many prints for the pattern I’m using. The blue on the left and the red on the right are actually tiny houndstooth prints. Here’s a fuzzy closeup of the red & pink one:

I’ll take some pics of the final project when it gets done.

I’m also finishing up the binding on a baby quilt that I started before the child was born. She’s several months old now. Several. Several. But not quite a year old! This is better than the other quilt in my Works In Progress pile for a baby that is now 2 years old. And I started months and months before he was born. So, see! I’m improving! And as long as I don’t think about the 2 other babies I wanted to make quilts for (but haven’t started them) and the 2 babies on the way that need quilts (I’ve gotten as far as buying fabric!) and the 10 other WIPs stacked up in my crafting room….. Sigh. Ok, that’s brought my heartburn back.

What crafty projects are you working on? Do you have a pile of projects you still need to finish?

Parenting Requires a Thick Skin

The other day I was watching What Not to Wear while folding a massive amount of laundry. Bean walked in at the beginning where they were confronting the bad dresser. She looked at the lady wearing unfashionable clothes and said “Mama! You have that shirt! That lady looks like you.”

Stacy & Clinton, if you are reading this, I’m ready for my $5,000 makeover. If my 4 year old recognizes my poor fashion choices, then they must be pretty terrible. Then again, she dresses more like Fancy Nancy than a fashionista.

Yesterday we had a day where we all just stayed at home and hung out. We painted, we played games, we watched My Little Pony. Raylo was just thrilled with that, you know. At one point Peanut put in an annoying kids CD. Then, she started dancing around the room to the song We All Dance in a Circle. “Dance with me, Daddy!” she said. So, Raylo got up and began dancing around in the circle. She stopped, looked at him, and said, “No, you can sit down.”

Bad dressing & bad dancing followed by insults from preschoolers. That’s what you’ll find here.

Memory Story: Stuck in the Bathroom

I told y’all about my upcoming trip to Haiti. I’m still stinkin’ excited. I’ve even downloaded audio lessons so I can learn a few phrases. I actually just want to learn the phrase “Help, I’m stuck in the bathroom!” There’s a very very very good reason for this. When I had been in Turkey only 2 weeks (and prior to the start of language classes), we went across town to a Chinese restaurant for a friend’s birthday. I ate, I drank, and then I had to visit the little girls’ room. (Or kucuk kizlarin odasi if you want to be Turkish about it…. except that they never call it that….) Well, after I took care of business, I tried to leave the bathroom. But the door was stuck. STUCK. It wasn’t locked. It wasn’t blocked. It was just stuck. Of course I had left my phone at the table, so I couldn’t call anyone. And at that point I only knew how to say hello, one, two, three, chicken shish kebab, rice. (You can tell what I ate for the first two weeks there…..) Well, none of those words would help me to get unstuck. So, I started banging on the door.

I heard people laughing on the other side of the door, and I heard the waitstaff walking around, but no one was helping me. So, I started to yell: “Help! I’m stuck! I’m stuck and I don’t know the Turkish word for help! Help!” They did nothing.

At the time I didn’t know that this was very unusual for Turkish culture. In the years that followed, I found the people to generally be hospitable and kind and gracious and willing to help a person obviously stuck in a bathroom. Apparently these Turks were just having a REALLY bad day.

Finally I just got quiet & waited. I knew someone would eventually either have to use the bathroom or come see why I was still in the bathroom. Sure enough, Raylo came and knocked on the door. “Are you ok? Are you sick?” he asked. “Nope. I’m stuck. And the people hear me, but they keep laughing at me,” I replied. Well, he got one of our bilingual friends to ask them to open the door. “Oh, I guess it’s broken,” was their response.

That night, as we were leaving the Chinese restaurant, I asked my bilingual friend how to say help. The Turkish word is spelled imdat, but is pronounced M-dot. From then on, if I thought there might be a need for it, I imagined a dot with an M in it.

I propose that this becomes the new international symbol for “Help! I’m stuck in a bathroom!”

Whew. That trauma is obviously still fresh with me. So, I plan on knowing how to say hello, how to count a few numbers, and most importantly, how to say “Help! I’m stuck in the bathroom!” before I enter a different country ever again.

Picture Post for the Grandparents

The girls started ballet classes today. Although Bean looks very serious, she was absolutely giddy!

In other news, Peanut has a new big girl bed. She loves it. We wish she loved it enough to stay in it all night instead of coming in at 3 a.m. to our room and begging to get in our bed & screaming “I DON’T LIKE SLEEPING BY MYSELF!”

Bean had to get in the pictures, too. We’ve picked out a bedspread online, but it hasn’t arrived yet. However, I have a feeling that the nice bedspread I buy will end up on the floor & she’ll sleep with this pile of quilts & blankets she loves. How do I know this? Because Bean’s $90 pink quilt is on the floor by my chair right now. Instead she’s sleeping with a bunch of other blankets. But, that includes the quilt I made her, so I’m actually very happy about it. Someday Peanut will get a twin-sized quilt from me. But, I have to work through a few other projects I’ve already started before I can justify starting a new one.

So, there you go. There’s some new pics of the girlies. You’re welcome.

 

Finchley Lane

To help earn the funds for my upcoming trip to Haiti, I’ve opened a new Etsy shop called Finchley Lane. In it are some items I had made for various craft fairs in New Orleans. Since I haven’t found a craft fair yet here, I figured it would be a good time to sell those items & save the cash-o-la for my trip. So, from now until I leave, 100% of the profits from all sales go directly to pay for my trip.

What am I selling? Here’s a few pics….

These Wristlet Keychains are the bomb. I’m not really sure how I lived without mine. Seriously. If you don’t buy one from me, that’s fine. But, if you ever have to tote a whole mess of groceries, kids stuff, babies, or just junk and still need to keep your keys handy, then these are the ticket. Buy one from somewhere. They will help keep you sane. Or, in my case, they will inch you closer towards sanity.

I have several fabric flower pins and clips. Some are single flowers and some are in bunches. This one is my fave right now. I thought about just keeping it. But then I realized that I won’t exactly pay for my airfare if I keep all of the stuff I make and only sell the orange ones. So, I’ll keep it in the shop. *sigh* Being responsible and stuff isn’t always as much fun. Wait. I own all of that fabric. I can just make another one for myself. Woooo!

Today if the lighting is still good, I’ll photograph the tote bags and a few zipper bags that I have and get them added to the shop.

Oh, and local peeps: I offer free delivery for you! I mean, why pay shipping charges if I can just meet you at our church, at the library, or at Chick-fil-A? Sorry, I don’t meet people for deliveries in dark alleys, the Wal-Mart parking lot, or inside Red Lobster. Unless you’re buying my dinner at Red Lobster. Then I’ll deliver there for sure. Anyway, you can read how to get this amazing once-in-a-lifetime special offer in any of the item listings or in my shop policies section.

*end new Etsy shop plug* Thankyouverymuch!

Tags: Finchley Lane