It felt so good to get some sleep last night. I barely remember my head hitting the pillow. We woke up this morning and met with our team for breakfast at 7:30am. It was already 90+ degrees outside. I was so excited to see bananas on the breakfast table! We also had hard-boiled eggs and bread with peanut butter (which someone on our team was genius enough to pack and bring with them). This would be our last meal until dinner, so I said a quick prayer that it would be enough to give me energy for the day. After breakfast, the 15 people on our team piled into the school bus and headed to the Light and Peach Church and school.
The children saw us coming as we walked along the side of the church, approaching the classrooms behind the building. Their faces lit up with excitement. A little group of children followed me to the side of the school yard and began talking to me. I was instantly kicking myself for not studying more Creole before we came to Haiti. I’ve never been so frustrated with a language barrier as I was at that moment. I wanted, so badly, to know what they were saying and asking. They laughed at me when I asked (in very rocky Creole) what their names were. They laughed even harder when I tried to pronounce their names. The kids were watching every move I made and listening to every silly thing I said. Now I know what it feels like to be the minority in a very unfamiliar setting! Just before our group organized to enter the first classroom, I caught a glimpse of a giant trash pile in the corner of the school yard. My heart stung again at the realization that its not abnormal for these kids to be playing amidst the garbage.
We visited each classroom, beginning with the youngest children, and distributed school supplies. We left boxes and bags of coloring books, math worksheets, crayons, pencils, rulers, glue, stickers, and posters. The pre-school aged kiddos smiled so big. Some of them hid their faces in their arms, smothering their giggles. They sang us songs. We had prepared a couple of bible-school songs that we could sing in both English and Creole. The kids thought our Creole singing was pretty funny. As we worked our way up through the classrooms with the older kids, a few groups challenged us to a sing-off. They always won. Here's a video of our lovely singing (notice, I'm hiding in the corner... Sara singing + Sara singing in Creole = a reason to hide in the corner).
I couldn’t get over how small the classrooms were… the size of my kitchen at home. These children must get used to the heat… As we stood there, dripping in sweat and rationing the oxygen (in fear that it might run out before we got out into the open air again), the kids sat, unphased and unsweaty, at their desks.
We handed out candy to each classroom and hung a world map on each wall. We showed the kids where Denver, Colorado was and drew a line from our home to theirs, in Haiti. We gave each of the teachers a toiletries bag with bathroom supplies as a gift.
After visiting each classroom, we moved outside (open air, finally!) Ashley and I sat down, for a few minutes, with our Haitian security escorts while we watched Tony and Sean played soccer with the boys. I further embarrassed myself among the children as I attempted to speak their language. One of the little girls pointed at my bracelet; a leather band with “Marley Jean” engraved into it. I tried to explain to her that “Marley” is the name of my daughter. A crowd quickly gathered when I pulled out a few wallet-size photos of Marley that I kept on me every day during the trip. It felt good to talk about Marley, but hurt a little when I put the photos away and thought about the 7 remaining days before I’d get to hold her again.
We got some good pictures at the school. I figured out enough Creole words to ask a group of giggling girls to make silly faces for me. I love this photo...
One little girl ran up to me, pressed something into my hands, then ran off again. I didn’t even see her face. But her name is Luina. It was written all over the envelope she had just given me. There were colorful hearts and flowers drawn all over the envelope. Inside were 9 pieces of notebook paper. Each page had a different flower or animal drawn on them. (Actually, one looked like a homework assignment… hopefully she didn’t need that!) My favorite page had 4 birds drawn across the top and a big potted flower in the center of the page. It says, “Cloc! Cloc! C-est la poule et ses poussine” below the birds, and “Regara le joli jardin” at the bottom. The closest translation I can figure is, “Cluck! Cluck! These are the little chickens” and “Look at my beautiful garden”. I will hang the envelope and this, my favorite drawing, on my desk at work when I return to the States.
After the recess, it was time for us to go. The little boys wanted to help carry our supply bags to our bus. About 8 of them picked up the back of the bag that Chad was carrying. As we left the school yard, we spoke briefly with a man who had been hit by a car that morning. He was sitting against the school yard wall with a bone protruding from his leg. He seemed very calm. I suppose there’s not really an emergency room to rush off to. Some people were helping him to get it bandaged.
Once again, we loaded the humid bus and started off to Pastor Guerry’s school. Pastor Guerry is Pastor Ronald’s brother. The children were playing when we arrived. We got a handful of great pictures as we watched them. For a few minutes, it didn’t feel like I was in a third-world country. These were just normal students playing at recess as normal children.
We corralled them onto the side of the building where we created a “zoo” for them. As we pulled each different animal out of the giant bag of donated stuffed dolls, the kids shrieked with excitement. Tony and Chad acted out each animal, complete with sound effects.
We distributed more school supplies to the teachers and gifts to the kids. I couldn’t help but notice how competitive the children were… they each wanted everything else that other children held in their hands. Its hard to ask them to share when they will likely be fighting to hang onto everything they can as long as they live in this barren country. I helped a little girl put on a multi-colored bracelet. From the expression on her face, you would have thought I had just given her diamonds.
The kids got a really big kick out of hearing Chad and Tony beat-box. I have to admit, it is pretty impressive.
We walked through an alley to get back to our school bus. Kung Fu Panda awesomeness took over Pastor Chad when he passed a goat standing along the wall.
We had one more scheduled stop before the end of the day. The bus pulled up to the Light and Peace orphanage, where children hung out over the balcony awaiting our arrival.
We didn’t even get through the door before the kids were reaching for our hands, one and a time, and kissing our cheeks. It was the sweetest greeting I’ve ever received. It reminded me a lot of my favorite part at the end of each day in America, when I walk into Marley’s classroom to pick her up and she runs into my arms, so excited to see me. These were not my children, but they still acted equally as happy to see us.
One little girl named Ongea (pronounced kind of like Angie, but with an O-sound at the beginning and the accent on the 2nd syllable), latched on to me quickly. We bonded over her Tinkerbell t-shirt… she shares the love of the character with Marley. For the next 15 minutes, she wouldn’t let go of my hands. I felt her urgent need for affection. She had never met me before, but she acted as if I were her mother. The desperation for physical connection broke my heart.
During the next couple of hours, we played games and instruments with the kids. We distributed the remainder of our school supplies and toys to them. I met, and held, a little girl who refused to smile… unless you tickled her feet. She had such a quiet, sweet demeanor. I would have guessed, based on her size and weight, that she was about 4. I later found out she was 6 and her name was Gina. When she was 2, living in a remote mountain village, her parents died. Her brother, who was 5 years old at the time, had heard of Pastor Ronald. He took his baby sister and walked down the mountain and into the city looking for Pastor Ronald. The two children somehow found him and have been at the orphanage ever since (over 4 years now).
The most touching part of this day came when the children performed some songs and dances for us. The shyness went away and their stage-presence came to life. The boys danced to hip hop music… these kids actually had some moves! (What I wouldn’t give to bring them back to an American dance studio!) The tears broke loose again when the children sang “Worthy Is The Lamb”, a song by American Christian band, Third Day. They sang it first in English, then in Creole. Here is the video…
When it was time to return to the compound for the night, we walked back to the bus. I noticed an outhouse that I hadn’t seen before. It was the one bathroom shared by the 26 children at the orphanage. There was a raised cement block with a hole in it, surrounded by 3 walls. I can’t even describe how filthy it was… the small room had flies swarming in and out of it and the slimy sludge was running down the side of the “toilet” onto the ground everywhere. Then I remembered, they are fortunate to even have this… many Haitians don’t have a place to go to the bathroom. They, instead, use sidewalks and creeks out in public. I couldn’t take much more of this heartache. I wondered if the week could possibly get any more mentally difficult. I obviously had no idea what I had gotten myself into.
I sat with Tony, Chad, and Sean at dinner. It almost felt “normal” and for a short while, I was able to pretend I wasn’t thousands of miles away from my bed, my daughter, my shower, my air conditioning. But when dinner was over, I took a shower in the weak cold leak dripping from a spout in our room. I rinsed off after finally feeling like I had scrubbed the dirt and stink from my hair and skin. As I reached to turn off the faucet, I looked down and saw a cockroach the size of a small mouse crawl up out of the drain and sprint across my toes. I was too startled, or too exhausted, to scream. So I quickly jumped away and dried off with Marley’s beach towel that I had brought with me. Before I crawled into bed for the night, I remember having a brand new understanding for the words uttered by a small-town Kansas girl, “There’s no place like home”.
Want to help? Email me at sarajeanwrenn917@yahoo.com for more information.
Rejoice in confident hope. Be patient in trouble. AND KEEP ON PRAYING!!!
-Romans 12:12
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