A Meeting With the Leaders of the Riots

I'm in a meeting with the leaders of the riots (protesting the arrest and extradition of Senator Guy Philippe). It's getting late. This is unreal. Safety for everyone in my family and anyone with me. If I want a personal escort or three to go to Port or anywhere they are for me. They said they are for me. I am going to be walking at the front of the march tomorrow with the three main leaders. Get your contacts ready because videos and interviews are coming. If God is for us then who can be against us?!? I am beyond excited. I will have three bodyguards tomorrow as well. They were elated. I will write more tomorrow. I need my phone charge. Love you. Bye

The Longest Night

The later it gets the more uneasy I feel. I still haven't heard from Mackenzy. The last thing he said was he was in town and there was tear gas and shooting. I am worried. I am sure he is fine. He's probably fine. It's been an hour since I heard anything. Now an hour and a half. Still waiting. Still hiding in my room. We turn the generator off so the lights go out. Two hours pass. I call him and he doesn't answer. Mackenzy shows up at the door. He is here! I immediately feel better. We have decided that I should stay here at Papa Dieudonne's. Jacques and Mackenzy are going to stay here and so is Fre Ejen. I carry my bedding to the roof and lift the ladder so no one will know where I am if they come in and if they start to come up I can crawl down the other side. There is a window that I can slide my foot in as a ledge. It's high up but I have a clear landing area. The stars are my ceiling. 

Bright and sparkling. The moon is beautiful. 

It is 1 am before I can fall asleep. I'm awoken to the dogs growling deeply. Rocks are thrown over the fence and roll on the cement out front. Mackenzy is up in an instant along with Jacques and Justa. We all hold our breath to listen. I can hear Fre Ejen go outside. It sounds like someone is walking around the back side of the house. They said they didn't know who it was but at least it wasn't a group. Every twig that snaps has everyone up. Every dogs bark has my hair standing on end. I feel terrible that everyone in this house has to be awoken because I'm here. I feel good about being on the roof though. I stare at my sparkling ceiling and play escape routes over and over in my mind. I could crawl down the side of the building and go through the neighbors yard. If I step on the tin roof surrounding me it will make noise. No, I can't do that. If I hang on the cement ledge of the house I can inch my way to the back of the house, drop down and run through the bush. Aunt Beck kindly thought of the jumping down into the outhouse hole. Thanks Beck but I'm Praising the Lord it's too small. Sleep will not be happening tonight. Doze off. Wake up. Every sound wakes me with a start and then I hold my breath. It's been a long night but the sun is rising above the mountains turning the sky and ocean to gold. I made it through the night. The sun is rising. The sun is rising.

"Call Upon Me in Your Time of Trouble."

What a day it has been. We locked the gate and the doors. I am not allowed near the windows. I have been inside all day. The rioters are kidnapping blan (white people). They say since the blan kidnapped their senator they will kidnap the blan. 

They ransacked La Caban where a group of blan were staying, but the blan had enough time to have a helicopter evacuate them. They went though the whole hotel. They also went to an orphanage where they knew blan were staying and stole suitcases and passports. The blan had already left. 

I will stay here until it gets dark. The hours are passing slowly. The rioters and kidnappers are close. The next street over. I can hear them. I can hear their yelling and chanting. We shall see. I am not afraid. Not in the least. My cousin Abby sent me a verse "Call upon me in your time of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me."--Psalm 50:15 She told me to remind Him of His promises. I am thankful for family that rocks. God's got my back. It'll be fine :) My boots are on and ready. I have a bag packed. My knife is in my sock so I can reach down and grab it if need be. Tonight I will sneak out the back and through the trees. What's left of them anyway. I will cross the street and have Mackenzy pick be up on his bike go to Justas house. We will take a back road. The air is tense. Everyone talks quietly. Everyone has a plan. Everyone has an idea. Everyone is helpful. Everyone wants to help me hide and protect me. The man that hauls water up the mountain for Dieudonne came to the gate and said "We love you. We don't want you to be afraid. We will protect you. You have helped us and now we will help you." It is a powerful feeling to have people stand behind you. To care enough about you to want to protect you and be there for you. The sun is almost set and I am preparing my things. Mackenzy will come and he will help me decide what I should do.

Urgent Prayers for Safety

Manman and Papa have left for PAP and Justa has come to stay in the house along with three kids. We drink coffee and talk sitting behind the house. We cut vegetables. Justa and I talk about life, Haiti and food. People and the way they are. God and how he blesses and provides for us. I really like her. I've only known her for four or five years but she is always the same. She takes care of these three children and they're not even hers. They are her family's and they don't have the funds to care for them. She gets a phone call and leaves us. I hear her say she is going to try her best and her voice is stressed. I sneak around the corner to snoop. I am my mother's daughter. I don't always snoop but I felt like I needed to. She is talking about paying someone it seems. She comes back and acts like everything is fine. She hands me a chunk of flabby meat. She says it's delicious and I ask what it is. She responds by saying it is cow stomach. Yum. Nothing like steamy cow stomach for breakfast. At least it's better than the intestines. 

While waiting for things to cook I work on carving a circle out of coconut to make a necklace.

I want to visit the hospital today so when we finish cooking I get my things together to leave. Justa has to go sing for a church so she walks with me. I visit her home and she takes a bucket shower. When she is done a precious man enters her house and is asking for rent. She hasn't payed them since July. She pays around 600 dollars a year for rent. The average salary is 50 dollars a month if you're lucky enough to have a job. She hasn't found work since she worked at the hotel so I know money is tight. She looks at the ground ashamed and says she can't pay it yet but she's working on it. He is kind and says thank you and leaves. I want to pay the whole bill but I won't. I will let this sit until morning and give her what I feel is right. She owes 300 dollars still. We walk down the street and she goes one way to sing and I go another to the hospital. Upon arriving Jacques pulls up on a motorcycle. As we enter the hospital hallway I notice it is fairly quiet which I am thankful for. In the first room there is a little girl laying on a dirty hospital bed. Her leg is swollen and bloody and puss oozes out and onto her sheets. 

I kneel beside her bed and ask if I can pray with her and Jacques and I pray over her. I sing her a song and tears are streaming down her face. I talk to her and tell her she will run again and play with her friends. She doesn't need to be discouraged. God is with her and her family is with her. She needs to stay strong so she can heal faster. I wipe her little tears and tease her that she is spoiled because she gets to lay in bed all day. I get a smile out of her. Walking into the next room a woman lays on a bed staring at the ceiling. Her eyes are hollow and drained. A man sits beside her holding her hand. I ask what happened and he tells me her baby died during the delivery. 

My heart sinks. I can't even begin to imagine her pain. Laying there staring at the ceiling wishing he baby was swaddled and snuggled up next to her. Months of waiting to see its precious face. Her boyfriend holds her so gently. I kneel beside them and sing and sing. Her eyes have a little life in them and she turns to look at me. I sing with all my heart. I sing and pray that God heals her little heart. When it's time to enter the next room, I see that it is full of women, some pregnant and some holding their newborns. They all greet me with huge beautiful smiles and are fighting over who I am going to pray for. I tell them I will pray for all of them and they relax. They depend on prayers. They depend on God. It is so easy for us to not believe in anything in the states because even if we're homeless there are shelters. Even if we have no food there are food banks and food stamps. We sing and pray together. We laugh and I look at their small perfect beautiful babies. I tell them I'm going to steal them away for myself and they tell me I better not. One little girl is 14 and about to have a baby. Another is in labor. She has no one with her. I hold her hand and she squeezes it so tightly. I just squat beside her bed for a long time and sing gently while holding her hand. She moans and tears stream down the side of her face. I will be back tomorrow to check on them. Jacques and I go into the hallway and sit. It's empty and the smallest noise echoes. He starts to sing. At first his voice is quiet and cracks. As we continue to sit and he continues to sing he gets lost in his song and he sings loudly and powerfully. It brings tears to my eyes. I see a different side of him right now. A feel love for God and worship. He finishes his song and we leave the building in silence.

Jacques and I walk down the road and I feel a tension in the air. I can't explain it so I look at Jacques and ask him if he feels it too. He says he does and so we grab a taxi to head downtown. We are heading down a road when all of a sudden hundreds of people are running towards us yelling and screaming and waving pieces of paper in the air. Jacques yells at the driver telling him to turn around the crowd is running straight for us and Jacques is tense. He screams at the driver to hurry up and we drive off into an alley. Jacques tells him to pull over so he can explain to me what is going on. They are protesting for their senator to be set free. Supposedly some blan (white person) took him captive. Jacques says there are rumors that this group will kill blan because they are blaming all blan for what is happening. I want to run with them. Jacques manages to get one of their papers and hands it to me. He says as long as I am standing with them they can't do anything. So we run. We run right into the middle of this insane protest. Hundreds of people sprinting through town. Chanting and waiving anything they can get their hands on. So loud. I can't believe I am in the middle of this. A little hand grabs mine and I look down at a little boy running beside me with a mischievous grin. We are obviously a team now and work together to dodge motorcycles and cars and people. We run and run. I haven't ran for this long since I was a little kid. It feels good. I feel wild and free. The sun has set and lights and flames fill the street. The group running gets bigger and louder and more tense. My adrenaline is pumping. Some Haitians tell me I'm going to get killed and others run beside me telling me they are happy I stand with them. What an experience. Jacques and I hop on a taxi to to the bottom of The mountain and hike from there. I am drenched in sweat and covered in dirt. I shower and rinse off before I take Jacques home. Mackenzy comes to pick us up to take Jacques home. Burning tires litter the streets and the town is covered in thick billowing smoke. Flaming tires block the road to Jacques' house and so he gets off the bike to take a side path. As we drive Mackenzy says "Haitians are passive until they are mad. Then they are like fire." He walks me home and I get ready for bed. What an experience. I've always watched Jose wild rally's but never been a part of one. I am not allowed to leave the house today. The town is fiery and tense and if they see a blan they will take them. I can hear gun shots and wilds roars from town. But don't worry for me. I am sitting in the roof of Papas house on the mountain.

This blan is locked inside today

He Calls the Stars by Name

Papa makes us spaghetti for the morning. Haitian spaghetti isn't even remotely similar to what we know to be spaghetti. After breakfast we clear out Manman and Papa's bedroom to start painting. It is a beautiful day. Papa mixes the paint with water so it goes farther and we paint their walls.

Papa had things he had to do in town and Manman is out and about so it is just Claeme and I painting. She has been so helpful. She copies everything I do. It's so cute, but I'm not sure if it's a good thing haha. I feel like God continues to put little girls like sisters in my life to give me patience and improve me. I am really starting to love this little Claeme. She works diligently on her painting. The paint is so thin and it looks terrible, but it is what it is.

Papa returns and Claeme and I go to the orphanage. The kids look good and are happy. We talk and laugh and they say they want to go to the beach again. I'll take them one of these days. We walk all over the town. We visit Marie Claude. Claeme is getting tired and so we head home. James and Chancley drive by and pick us up. They give us a ride to the bottom of the mountain and we meet Manman halfway up the hill. I stand outside with Papa and we look up at the stars. I show him the Big Dipper and Orion's Belt. I explain North Dakota and how big and flat it is. There is something about Haiti's sky that is bigger than the North Dakota sky. I ask Papa why I feel like that and he says because Haiti is so small the sky swallows it up and in North Dakota the earth is bigger than the sky. That's exactly how I feel as we stand on this mountain. The sky surrounds me. It swallows me up in its great deep sparkly mass. I look at Papa as he stares at the stars and my heart is full. Holding Claeme's hand all day through town. Making sure she didn't fall.

Manman bringing home fried fish for a treat. Papa always taking the time to talk and to listen. The stars here are so big. So bright. So beautiful. There is no buzz of electricity. Crickets chirp and dogs howl. Life. Isn't it absolutely beautiful? It's moments like these that make me so thankful for living. "Look up into the heavens. Who created all the stars? He brings them out like an army, one after another, calling each by name. Because of His great power and incomparable strength, not a single one is missing." --Isaiah 40:26 Calling each by name. Every single star has a name. A beautiful perfect name. Every single one created just as it should be. Just like every single one of us. Haitians and blan. All created perfectly just as He sees us. Beautiful beautiful people. Everyone has a place. Everyone has a purpose. Not a single one is missing. I love that. God sees us and He is with us. He counts us just as He counts the stars. He knows how many hairs we have on our heads and He has given us a name. So let us get up. Go where we are called. Be where our hearts are because if we really live with purpose, knowing we have a name, knowing we have a place, what can we miss? I love this simple and complex, perfect and tragic life.

First Day in Jeremie

Another beautiful day. First day waking up in Jeremie. It's much better now than it was. It's beginning to feel like Jeremie again. The trees are green and flowers are everywhere. These trees are so much like the Haitians themselves. It doesn't matter what storm or tragedy knocks them down they will bud. They will bloom. They will stand tall and proud and continue on.

Helping Manman Clanide in the kitchen. We sing and cook. Charcoal smolders. She is teaching me a new song. I balance a neighbor's baby on my knee while using a pilon (mortar and pestle) to mix the garlic, onion and so on together into a paste.

Manman and I squat in the dirt and pick the feathers off of a chicken that was sitting next to me alive just minutes ago. Poor little fella had to get eaten. Fre Ejen came and killed it for Manman Clanide. She doesn't have the heart to. I suppose when there aren't any men around this will be my job. As long as I don't give it a name I don't mind butchering things. Life is simple when you live simply and I absolutely love the perfect simplicity of this morning.

Today is a day for visiting. I forgot my medical bag and was reminded quite a few times to bring it next time. Everyone is well. They have made so much progress. It was amazing to see shiny tin on my friends' roofs. New cement. What a wonderful thing. Thanks to you and to God. Papa Dieudonne finished a beautiful room for me. He even made me a bed! I'm going to be spoiled I swear. I have a little place to put my clothes. A roof over my head. I am just so happy.

I am laying here in my bed. It doesn't smell like dead animals anymore! I have a fever. My nose is running and so I'm holding a tissue under it. It's almost 2 am and I still haven't slept. I can barely swallow. I wore myself down and now I'm sick. I should be ok by morning...except it's 4 am now. Nose is still running.

Today I am resting. I hate resting. Manman Clanide made me some tea. It seemed to help. I have had a fever on and off and can't swallow very well. Delice came to visit. Papa Dieudonne and Manman Clanide went to town so it is just Claeme and I for the day. She plays dolls with the neighbor girls. I rest until late afternoon but I am going stir crazy so I go to town with Mackenzy. Manman Clanide doesn't have any minutes on her phone and neither do I. There is an ATM here and it works! I'm not sure if this is a good or a potentially bad thing for me I'll just have to keep it under control. We go to the Digicel store and they put a plan for a month on my phone. Can I even explain my joy at having a one way ticket? I am so at ease. Darkness comes and we walk up the mountain to Papa's. Jacques is there to greet me. He can't wait for Aunt Beck to be here and neither can I. I am feeling better now. I don't have a fever anymore. I will get some sleep tonight and go to the orphanage tomorrow. Night everyone!

The small joys of Haiti: I enter my room to find two baby goats jumping on my suitcase and roughhousing. They were the cutest kids. I shoo them out.

Papa Dieudonne asked where Claeme (7) was and Manman Clanide said "she went next door to buy you a beer." I laughed so hard. I love the freedom here. Claeme is not a drunk because she can buy beer whenever she wants. She is not sneaking around. She is just a kid buying beer for her Papa. When we don't make things a big deal no one wants to "break the rules" to do them.

Geckos climb on my walls. I enter the bathroom and there is a huge cockroach nestled on top of my bar of soap. Thank you Kayla for making this soap for me. I love it...and apparently so does Mr. Cockroach.

A New Year

If I'm being honest, I wasn't ready to come back. I have had a crazy past two weeks of traveling, visiting family, Christmas shopping etc. I needed a couple days of rest, but After looking at the cost of changing my flight I decided to just go. I get on the plane and my seat is in the very last row. I'm surrounded by loud Kreyol and my heart is immediately content. I sleep for the full three-hour flight from Atlanta to PAP after getting up at 3 am with Native and my youngest brother, Bear, to drive to the airport. Landing. From snow to palm trees. I suppose I won't be needing my flannel. Thamar (my best girl friend in Haiti) picks me up at the airport to take me to her house. Thamar and I haven't seen each other for a year and I am so happy to be with her again. She is doing really well. She is confident. She is beautiful. She is strong. She is a single mother. She has her own business. She can cook better than most anyone I know. She is so kind. One of the most genuinely kind and loving people I know.

Everyone knows her and tells me how wonderful she is. I am honored to be her friend. I truly admire her. It is the eve of Haiti's Independence Day and Americas New Year's Eve. Thamar has a lot of cooking to do and I join in to help. We are both really tired but we are doing our best. We talk and talk as we slice meat and smash bañan peze.

The music is pounding and as the night goes on it gets crazier and crazier. The streets are filled with hundreds of people and everyone wants food. Thamar, two other girls and I are running the kitchen and the waitressing. Of course I would get roped into this. It makes me laugh. The kitchen is thick with the smell of frying meats and plantain.

The music is so loud we have to yell just to hear one another. The doors are wide open and there is a constant flow of people. Everyone is wearing fun clothes. Everyone loves Thamar's food and rightly so. I am in Kafou which is one of the most dangerous areas in Haiti. I don't feel endangered at all. I feel safe and content. I just feel comfortable and like this is all second nature. It is wild here tonight. So wild. I love it. I am tired though and now after taking my bucket shower and writing it is almost 2 am. Goodnight.

4 am comes early. My eyes are burning. Thamar wakes me up because she said the bus has almost arrived. Jacques is waiting for us. We rush into the car and are on our way. She has been working all night and hasn't gone to bed yet. She's so tired. Poor thing. Hopefully she will get some rest soon. We arrive just after 4 and I am still sitting on the bus. It's 5:30. I wouldn't have minded another hour and a half of sleep, but I got to see Katy and I'm happy for that. Sitting on the bus. Totally packed with people. You thought this bench seat was made for two? Think again. Four of us squeeze together on this bus seat.

The diesel fumes are thick. I look out my window and can see the shadow of the man fixing the suitcases on top of the bus. His shadow is dark and strong against the worn once white building doors. He moves and organizes everything with ease. There is something so powerful about his shadow against this building. Konpa, traditional Haitian dance music, blasts from seemingly every direction. People are still celebrating. We are finally leaving. 5:40. Nice. The breeze is wonderful. Even if it is smoky and dirty, it's still way better than the diesel fumes.