Wednesday, January 11, 2017

"You Were Born For Such a Time as This."

Today is day two of waiting. Gun shots this morning. Hiding. Mackenzy, Jacques and I wake up and pray together. We listen to worship music and just sit in the golden sunlight I am not allowed to be seen outdoors. If God is trying to teach me patience this would be the way to do it. Doing nothing. The worst. Stuck inside. I wash dishes, clean, help cook and organize my things over and over. I make another coconut shell necklace. Every motorcycle we hear, every gunshot, has everyone in a panic. I feel calm and prepared. If I am out of anyones site for too long I hear my name being called. I like my space on the roof. I think about the people at the hospital. I told them I would be back the next day. Another day. It was a little chilly on the roof last night. I am so grateful for Justa and Jacques and Mackenzy. They are my heroes. Justa makes sure I am kept busy with chores around the house and Jacques and Mackenzy bring news from town. They sit and talk with me and make me laugh so hard. Mackenzy says he was in town and someone came up and asked him where I am staying. He said I’m safe and left. So they know I’m here, they just don’t know where. More blan leave every day and I guess theres only a handful left. My wonderful friends Natasha and Rose hike all the way up here from town to visit me. I am so happy to see them. I’ve missed them. We talk about Guy Phillipe and their opinion and mine. They say they miss me and are ready for this to be over so I can visit them. What wonderful friends I have. I am grateful. So so grateful. Mackenzy and Jacques come to me with some news. All the blan have left. They are all at the UN base waiting to fly to Port. I am the last one here. This could go either way. Either everyone will be looking for me because they know I haven’t left and I will be a sitting duck or, they will think I’ve left and I am safe. Do I want to hide up here for another week? Will it pass? What should I do? I don’t feel endangered at all. Do I go to Port? My cousin lives about 4 hours from here and she said I could stay with her. I’d still have to fly to Port and then she’d pick me up there and take me to her house. I wish I had her skin color and hair. I wish I didn’t look so white. Am I putting my friends in danger by staying here? It is getting late and the wind has picked up. I won’t be sleeping on the roof tonight.

Another night. Jacques and Mackenzy are always with me. Their lives are at risk. Hiking that mountain every day. Being with me. I am grateful for them. The weather is bad and getting worse. Heavy winds. Rain on and off. The tarp snaps and we can hear the tin being ripped off the roof. This is quite the storm. All of our most precious things are in plastic bags. Justa pounds on the door yelling with her arms full of dishes. We all work together to move everything to a safe place. We re-arrange the beds and make beds all over the floor in my room so we can all sleep together safe and comfortably.


The roof in my room only has a few leaks so everyone will stay dry for the most part. We all laugh so hard and can barely hear one another over the wind and the rain. Justa yells at the kids falling asleep and tries to wake them up. I ask her why she is doing that and she says “We will all fall asleep together. One person can’t fall asleep before another.” I tell her she’s annoying and to let them sleep. We laugh ourselves into exhaustion and try to sleep through the storm. 


Morning comes and Fre Ejen's little daughter comes to snuggle with me. She is cold and so I scoop her up into my bed and she cuddles on my chest. This moment. This absolutely perfect moment.


I rub her little hands and tuck a warm blanket around her. She used to cry when she saw me because I’m white but now she visits me every day. She is beautiful. She is in a little ball and I just hold her and talk to her. I sing her a little song and she smiles up at me. If huge storms meant I could hold her every morning, I’d pray for a storm every day.


The house is a complete mess. The tarps are shredded and whipping up into the sky barely still attached. Everything is muddy and soaked. I help Fre Ejen outside nail boards over the spaces cut out of the walls where windows will someday be. The wind threatens our ladder so we take turns steadying it while the other patches. We wash dishes and hang clothes to dry. We all work together until we are finished. Fre Ejen and the guys have fixed the roof with the leftover tarps. The tin that ripped off is set aside in a pile for another day. Mackenzy has things to do so Jacques and I hang around the house.

My heart is heavy. I wish I could do something. I am sitting here. Its been days. Hiding. Waiting. Worrying for the safety of my friends protecting me. I pray. I have an idea. I don’t know if it will work. One of my all time favorite books in the bible is Esther. She stood up for her people and her country even though she could be killed. She listened and she acted. She did what she knew was right no matter what might happen. “You were born for such a time as this.” I believe that we are all born for such a time as this. Every single day, to stand up for what's right no matter what. No matter the cost. If I go and speak with the leaders of these protests and it goes well, then I will be safe and the other plan (white people) will be safe. If it doesn’t go well, I could be severely hurt or maybe even killed. Guy Philippe might be all that the media says he is, but he is also a hero to the people here in Jeremie. He has led them and saved lives because of his bravery. Whether he was carrying drugs 12 years ago or not, does not change the way the people of Jeremie feel about him. He was to be their senator in four days when he got extradited. I want to stand with them. I want to show them that Americans aren’t against them and I want the people in the states to know he wasn’t just a drug dealer. I tell Jacques I want to speak with the leaders and tears come into his eyes. I call Poppyseed (Dad) and Behbehghull (Mom) and Aunt Beck and talk to them about this idea. They are for it. I know they are afraid for me because they love me, but they know this could change so many things. They believe in me. I tell Jacques to get all the contacts he can and see if I can meet with them. He makes phone call after phone call and they want to meet with him face to face. He leaves. What if they hurt him for hiding a blan? In less than an hour he calls me back and tells me to get dressed. He said to wear jeans and boots and a jacket. I get dressed and as soon as I’m finished Jacques is back. He takes his jacket off and we switch. Him wearing my hot pink jacket and me wearing his big red one. We walk to the bottom of the hill. It is dark. It is rainy. We meet a motorcycle at the bottom of the hill. I pull the hood over my head and clutch the bottom of it to keep it wrapped around most of my face. We go to an area that I’ve never been in town. It is dark. The buildings we stop in front of are pitch black. No light. This can’t be right. This can’t be where everyone is. We walk up to a door where a guard sits in a chair in front. Jacques asks for the people we are looking for. The guard points to the next door over. There are two big metal doors that are more like the doors to a garage than a building. We enter and are in a room totally empty except for a generator and a small dim lightbulb hanging from a wire. We continue through and there is a long hallway with a light at the end. We walk through the long hallway and into a room full of men sitting in a circle. They are big and strong. Tight t-shirts. Gold chains. A huge beautiful Haitian flag hangs, covering the whole wall. A short haired woman greets us at the door. She is tough. She is like a soldier. She brings us into the hallway and we discuss everything and are brought back into the room. I am not nervous. I am not afraid. I was made for such a time as this. I tell them I want to stand with them. They ask me to join them in the rally the next day and to meet them in the morning. I ask if I can interview them and they tell me to do it tomorrow during the rally. They promise safety over me, all my friends and all my family. I will have three guards tomorrow as well. They say they will not burn things anymore because I tell them it doesn’t do anything but ruin their town. A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. No more hiding. These people are the high leaders of this protest. God gave me favor with them. Jacques and I leave for home. We pick Mackenzy up and tell him everything that happened. I am nervous for tomorrow. I am relieved at the success of tonight's meeting.

Morning is here. My questions are ready for the interview. Jacques, Mackenzy and I head to town. Mackenzy doesn’t believe in politics or being involved in them so he leaves us. He’s the smart one I suppose Politics in Haiti are really bad. Rioters burned my mom's house in Haiti because Papa Dieudonne was protesting against them. He was big into politics. After that he said he will never join in them again. My jeans are on. Boots laced. Black t-shirt and hair in a french braid. We arrive at Wadson's (Leader) house and he is wearing my same boots and jeans but he has a white t-shirt along with his crew. He immediately sends someone to buy a white shirt for me. This is a rough part of town. Scars don most of these men's faces. Army boots and mohawks. Chains and tight shirts. We start the march outside of his home. I am standing in front with him and his men. Only about a hundred people march behind us. As we march more and more follow. Two hundred. Three hundred. Four hundred. People stare at me. No one kisses and winks at me like they usually do. They just watch me with respect. I am for them. We arrive at the town square and hundreds of people are packed tightly together. Holding signs high and cheering for the freedom of Guy Philippe.


I have never experienced anything like this. We get on a truck and Wadson speaks and sings into the microphone. There are thousands of people following. The march lasts for six hours. Speeches and songs. It is powerful. Everyone stands together.


The march comes to a close and I am given the microphone to interview a senator and other leaders. I am in front of three or four thousand people. I ask my questions. They answer. I tell them I stand with them and that the Americans are not against them. I stand with Guy Philippe. The crowd goes wild. But now, everyone has seen me, everyone knows who I am. I am safe. Our people are safe. I am exhausted and I get on a taxi to go home. The taxi drive says my nickname in town is Solda which translates to soldier. I am not sure if Guy Philippe is as bad as they say he is, but what I do know is something Wadson said into the microphone which was “He was a friend to me. He was a brother to me. He was a father to me. He is my hero and he is my liberator.” He represents bravery for the people of Jeremie. He stood up against Aristide when no one else would. They need him back. They feel like the Americans attacked their sovereignty through the extradition of Guy Philippe. They feel like they are walked on because they are a small country. They will continue to stand up for themselves nonetheless.

I had a very serious meeting at a restaurant with the leaders. We talked for hours. Mackenzy and Jacques helped me when I couldn’t find the words. I love these guys. The committee spoke and said that they will keep us safe, but after Friday they can’t promise my safety. Friday is when Guy Philippe will be judged and they will decide whether he is released or not. I am currently involved in two groups in Haiti. The upper class group that is fighting for Guy Philippe and the ghetto group. There is another group outside of town that gets really wild and they will not listen. They could kill me. The committee asks that I leave for a few days and that I not be here Friday when everyone finds out because it could be really really bad.

I do not feel terrible about leaving now. I have done what I can with the time that I have. Everyone knows me now. My friends and family will be safe when they come down. It has been a very wild last few days. A lot of it does not feel real. I feel like I just watched a movie. God protected me. What I did could have gotten me killed. What Jacques and Mackenzy did could have gotten them killed. However, we tried. I will continue to stand with them, I will just be in Port. For real this time :)

2 comments:

  1. There are no words. Only prayers for your safety

    ReplyDelete
  2. My thoughts n prayers are with you Kate. God bless and keep you.

    ReplyDelete