There And Back Again: The Journey Home

     But where is home? As I prepare to leave Haiti ( I have one clinic day left) some thoughts rush through my mind like a tidal wave: will I be able to adjust?--yes--, will I do the 'mandatory' closet-cleaning?--yes--,will I miss the people I've met in Haiti?--YES--, am I excited to be home?--yes--, will I miss Haiti itself--. . . that's where I start to stutter.
     Will I miss Haiti itself? . . . Honestly? I don't know. I promise that I will miss the amazing relationships I've forged from adults to babies since I've been here. But let me take you on a bunny-trail, dear reader, to explain why I might not miss Haiti itself. A few weeks ago, Becca (a fellow 21-yr old and the girl in the photo with me) came and joined me at Mickey's and Liz's. Quickly, we created a relationship that was based on being in a mutual location but it continued since I genuinely enjoyed her company. And, if you know me, that's saying something because I don't actively dislike people but I don't often like them. As I got to know Becca, her heart for Haiti burned bright. She loves Haiti and knows that this country is part of her future.
     . . . So, Becca loved Haiti and here I was serving but not feeling my heart break for the country. Was something wrong with me? Obviously no. What I've realized is that everywhere has needs. Everywhere. So, Becca's heart is for Haiti and mine for somewhere else. And that's okay. I don't think I'll be in America for always and I don't think I'll be in Haiti. But I do now understand that I am perfectly fine with living in a third world country--and that opens up so many possibilities. God has a country for my heart and I simply need to follow His plan to find it. I'm excited.
     That's my answer to whether I'll miss Haiti or not. Make of it what you will.
     This will likely be my last blog post before I return home. Thank you to those who have read my thoughts --be it once or regularly. And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day:)

xxLeah

P.s: want to know something weird? My ears smell like cheese to me and I don't know why.
P.p.s: if you still want to donate to Brisley (read July 15th post if you want to know his story) go to: http://www.gofundme.com/hopeforbrisley

So Close, So Far Away

     When people told me that going to Haiti: 1) for the first time alone and 2) for an extended stay was crazy, I didn't believe them. Now? I totally believe them. It is insanity to visit a country like Haiti which you don't know for over a month but thankfully God put some even crazier people in my life down here. It wasn't long before I met Hannah, Mickey, Liz, and Becca. Each of these woman played a pivotal role in my time in Haiti--I've been shown God's heart for this country through their actions.
     The first few times I went to the malnourished children's clinic and the two orphanages I visited here it was . . . difficult. But then again not. I felt so disconnected from these dying children that I just didn't care. After all, I would be home soon-- living in luxury once again. But here's the thing. That solid wall of not caring was just a facade and it took one little girl to break it: Venessa (pictured to the right). Venessa was a very sick baby girl who, without Mickey and Liz's clinic and Real Hope For Haiti, would have died. It took Venessa peeing on me for my heart to be opened to her--and she still hasn't left. Now when I see the kids, I see her. I wonder how many of these children will grow up "normal" yet the odds aren't in their favor. But I hope anyway. And I can hope because of the work being done in Haiti by organizations such as Children's Health Ministries, Real Hope For Haiti, partnerships with local orphanages, and so many others.
     But now it's time for my crazy time here to end and for me to return to America--land of the fat (but maybe still unhealthy) children. Of course I plan to do the almost-mandatory-third-world-country-closet-cleanout upon my arrival home. More than that though, I plan to be more aware of my resources and how I can help others with them. What I'll take away to push me harder is the simple memory of the kid's faces. When I don't want to finish out school strong, don't want to clean, want to complain about first-world problems (be honest, we all do it)--I'll remember them and do the right thing (even though I'm sure I'll fail many times) because they won't ever have the chance to do these things. I'll fight a little stronger for the orphaned, widows, and children.
    Haiti, so close to America, is still so far away in almost every way possible. But like I said, I harbor a flame of hope for Haiti because of all the good I've seen down here. It hasn't all been good though--there is much evil going on simultaneously. But here's the thing: the devil is working so hard to push back against the good because he sees it as a threat--as is correct. Haiti's got a long and difficult road to haul but I wouldn't bet against her.

Daily Life

     So, here's a thought: there is a skeleton inside everyone of us. But, that skeleton is pretty easy to see in some of the kids at clinic. Also, I realized that most people reading my blog (the few of you that exist...) probably don't know what I do on a daily routine so, ready?
     *I wake up to the sound of cars honking/dogs barking/children's voices - - no alarm clock needed, ever.
     *I get off the air-mattress and collect my water bottle to go brush my teeth.
     *I eat some toast, get dressed in a skirt and t-shirt, gather my journal and write for about 20 minutes.
     *I go rinse off my face (first time) to get the dust and sweat off
     * On clinic days, I now go outside and hop on the back of a motorcycle  and take a ride
          --on clinic days, I then sit for anywhere from 5-8 hours seeing sick children and internally cry
     *Around 3 pm, I wash my face for the second time and I become instantly twice as pale
     *If I want to shave, it's around now and I take a baby wipe and a razor and go at it--I once again turn from tan to pale in about 5 minutes
     *Around now, my body tells me I'm tired so I fight to stay awake (sometimes I don't win . . . )
     * It's now about 5:30, I've probably eaten dinner/lunch (it's the same meal here) and I'm about to shower --third time I've washed my face
     *Now it's anywhere from 6pm onward and I'll start my skyping, blogging, picture updating, processing the day, trying not to cry, talking with Liz/Becca, and watching toddler Tally wonder around
     *9 pm hits and bedtime has finally arrived
        --I grab my water bottle and go and brush my teeth again and wash my face for the final time
     * And now? My favorite part of the day: I turn the fan on in my room and breath a sigh of relief as I feel the air breath across my tired body.

     Well, there you have it. That's my day and I'm so sure I've left so much out . . . my sincerest apologies but I can't remember everything but everything that would be weird to an American just seems normal to me now.
     I hope everyone is doing splendidly,
xxLeah

P.s: the photo is just a photo of me with Louissa and her siblings!

Oh, Look Mom, A Blanc!

     Well, let me tell you, if you're going to have malaria and throw up you might as well do it in the Caribbean ocean. The photos you see are from today and it was marvelous. Well, the first hour and thirty minutes were great and then my body quit. But even when I was feeling crappy, the view was drop dead gorgeous. It's so easy to forget that Haiti is in the Caribbean and truly is marvelously beautiful.

   
     I got to ride in a rustic boat and swim in turquoise waters while being turned red by the sun. The Haitians loved talking to us because we're white girls in the ocean--so basically we stood out like a shark in a kiddie pool.

As you can tell in the foot photo, I got some tan today! The Haitian housekeeper/best-person-ever was laughing at my tan and when I explained I got burnt because I'm white, she laughed and said "no, now you're pink!".  Well yes, now I am pink.
     I'm just glad that today was amazing and I got the chance to relax and spend the day at the ocean:)

 I hope you guys had as fabulous a day as me . . . except that's not possible so good luck trying!

xxLeah    

Warning: This Is Not A Feel-Happy Post

  Guess what folks?!? I have malaria! I haven't felt very good the past few days but last night was even more so of an exception. I woke up at 3am shaking and shivering--now, that shouldn't happen in Haiti. Now here's the stupid part: I wasn't going to say anything about feeling poopy. Becca (the other girl here), however, convinced me to take care of myself. Therefore, I told Mickey and Liz I wasn't feeling super duper and then quickly got tested for malaria and the test was positive.
     But here's the thing: as much as you might want to slap me for ignoring my symptoms for days so many people in Haiti do just that. At the lab center where I got my test (oh sorry, did the word 'lab' give you an image of a clean building? Scratch that. It was a falling apart concrete building with sheets hung up as walls) there was a woman who had taken a fall. She was sitting stiff with her legs and core not moving but she was having a seizure. Here's the killer thing though: she ended up going home because "it wasn't that bad". What?! What Becca inadvertently reminded me of is that our body is our temple. We need to take care of ourselves and it's just sad when people do not possess the resources to take care of themselves.
     It's horrible that we live in a world of such inequality but hey, that's life! Oh, do I sound callous? Sorry, maybe it's because my heart has broken just one too many times in seeing Haitians unable to care for themselves. But no, it is horrible. So be thankful that you're sitting pretty in your home reading this and thank the Lord that he's given you so much--but remember, He also told us to take care of the poor, children, and widows. Speaking of taking care of children . . .
****Do you remember Brisley?? If not, please check out my blog from July 15!!!! I've launched a fundraising campaign and would love it if you would consider donating. If you have questions about it, feel free to leave a question in the comment section or email me at: loswald1@vols.utk.edu.
To donate, copy&paste the link: https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/2p8Cd 
Also, please share this with as many people as you know. Please!****

    **This paragraph of the blog was added in later and that's why it doesn't flow as much**: You know what? My friend--shout out to Hannah Clark!--just reminded me of something that makes me cry (literally, I'm crying right now). All of this poverty, all of this illnesses, all of it--somehow, it is and will glorify God. I'm not sure how but I need to remember that it does. It's not that the actual suffering and pain is glorifying, but it's how we respond and act in it that is capable of giving glory. This is His plan, not mine and ultimately that gives me so much assurance and peace. 

"Some people are worth melting for . . . "

     You recognize the quote? It's from the movie Frozen. If you don't, don't sweat it. But if you do, then you'll understand the feeling I've experienced today all thanks to the little girl in the photo (Louissa).
     A smile makes everything better, right? Right. And Louissa's smile? That makes everything seem right. Louissa is one of five children and beyond believably sweet. How did she come to the house today? I pinkie-promised her mother yesterday (and as we all know, a pinkie promise is as good as crossing-your-heart-and-hoping-to-die--pretty much infallible) to bring her today. So, picture this: me stumbling into the kitchen this morning for coffee when I was beautifully assaulted by Louissa's smile and a solid 5-minute hug. Yup, I didn't need coffee then because she was just as good.
     That was almost 12 hours ago and Louissa's smile is still going strong.
     And you know what? I think that Louissa was much needed today. I've been mentally and emotionally stressed the last few days and Louissa was the heart-adjustment that I've been subconsciously craving but too afraid to voice. I'm thankful that I've gotten to spend the day simply enjoying her presence. It's funny because she brought me a letter from the last time we hung out saying that she loved me. Just like that. She loved me. No conditions, no exceptions. Why don't we love like that in America? Does it really take extreme poverty, death, hopelessness, and so much else just to bring out the simple emotion of love? Maybe. But I don't think so. I think in America we get caught up in the whirlwind of possessions and forget basic humanity. Or maybe we just shove down the 'loveable/vulnerable' side of humanity and we bring to the forefront the constant desire for "more". Either way, we forget to say 'I love you'. So, here's a challenge for you readers: before going to bed, tell someone important in your life that you love them. You know what? You might've had a massive fight with them today. That's okay. Just let them know that you care about them and you're thankful for them.
     Hope everyone feels warm fuzzes tonight,
xxLeah

****Do you remember Brisley?? If not, please check out my blog from July 15!!!! I've launched a fundraising campaign and would love it if you would consider donating. If you have questions about it, feel free to leave a question in the comment section or email me at: loswald1@vols.utk.edu.
To donate, copy&paste the link: https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/2p8Cd 
Also, please share this with as many people as you know. Please!****

Home Again Home Again . . .

     Oh wait, it's not home again for some kids. For some kids in Haiti, home can be as grand as a luxury house to a tin-roofed shanty. For the children I visited at the orphanage today--if you recall, I visited about two weeks ago and the owner starves the children--home is a term that apports little joy.
     But something was different today.
     A little boy, Eddie, (he's the one in the photos) noticed me. With trepidation Eddie slowly approached me. I called out "bonjou cherie" and he took one more step. I reached out my hand and what'd he do? He took ahold of it and didn't let me go the remainder of the time. Eddie maneuvered into my lap--all while holding my hand--and sat there. We didn't talk, we just sat together. The estimated rate of physical or sexual abuse among these children in this orphanage is a minimum of 50%. I wondered what his life story has been to this point. I wonder what his life story will read in 10 years. I hope that it's radically different in the best way possible.
     This orphanage is always means I'll have a difficult day. I'll have difficulty knowing that they don't have clean water. They don't have food. They don't have sanitary living conditions. Heck, let's just call it what it is: they live in crap and their lives are abysmal excuses for living as they try to scrape by on nothing.
     Some days are difficult. Some are great. Some are just 'meh'. But in all of these days, there is hope for tomorrow. A sliver of possibility exists that something great will happen and that's what keeps me going. Well today? Something great happened: Eddie grabbed my hand. Through holding onto me, Eddie revealed that he wants to be loved and he still has the emotional capacity to make bonds with other humans. There is hope for him and I'll be thinking of him even when I'm thousands of miles away, hoping for him.

****Do you remember Brisley?? If not, please check out my blog from July 15!!!! I've launched a fundraising campaign and would love it if you would consider donating. If you have questions about it, feel free to leave a question in the comment section or email me at: loswald1@vols.utk.edu.
To donate, copy&paste the link: https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/2p8Cd 
Also, please share this with as many people as you know. Please!****

xxFromAGirlWhoNeedsYourHelp,

   

A Web of Relations

   Everyone has a story. Today, I intertwined mine with that of Brisley, a little boy (you remember the one with I last blogged about with the 104 fever, worms, and stomach?). He won't remember me. But I'll remember him. He was diagnosed with worms as well as a perforated bowel. His survival rate post-op? 10%. During the surgery he went into cardiac arrest. The doctors removed a significant section of his bowel.
     He survived.
     But he needed blood. Enter me.
     The next morning after his surgery, I went with three others to donate blood for him. And during the process, I began to pass out. I knew what has happening to my body: the nausea and faintness, the loss of hearing, the loss of vision. But the kids face kept flashing in front of me so I kept squeezing the ball. Each pump got harder. But Brisley. His life. Eventually my body forced me to stop and the nurses splashed water on me to get me back to full consciousness but my goal was complete: I had given enough blood for donation. I felt fine 5 minutes after. But Brisley won't feel better for months.
     In fact, he needs another surgery but the money isn't there. So, here's a question. Will you consider donating to Brisley? The cost of the surgery is $800 U.S. -- in the U.S. it would cost thousands upon thousands. If you're interested, please email me at: loswald1@vols.utk.edu. Why not intertwine your story with Brisley's? Or donate at: https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/2p8Cd
     That's all I have to say for this blog. Today was supposed to be a beach day but it wasn't. Instead, I was given the incredible opportunity to cross life-story paths with that of Brisley.    
     The photos are of Brisley pre&post-op.

xxLeah

In, Out, And In, Out

     That's the mantra I slowly mentally intone to myself as I'm driving on the streets of Port-Au-Prince (PAP) and Carrefour. The air is thick with burning oil and plastic, casting the city in a semi-haze. The smells assault you like an old-friend-turned-enemy. But I must keep breathing so I keep chanting my mantra of 'in, out, and in, out'. These were my thoughts before and after this morning's church service in PAP. But I wouldn't stay put and forego the church service because getting out into town can make a massive mental difference.
     On a more positive note, after the church service we went to pick up a dresser and the man who was selling it was from Knoxville! How small is the world? Answer: pretty dang small. He actually has visited my home town of Oak Ridge and we talked about the local book stores--a nice little reminder of something to look forward to upon my return. Also, I got hit on the head by an almond that fell from the tree. That woke me up. Another amusing thing that happened is that Becca--if you remember, she's the other 'intern' here from Rhode Island--bought a bag of spinach for $12. Obviously this was an accident because she didn't realize how much it cost but I sincerely doubt she'll ever make that mistake again.
     Alright, now that I've regaled you with some amusing stories, here's an example of how daily life in Haiti is full of the unexpected. You see that boy in the photo? He came to our house in the middle of a day (we weren't having clinic or anything, just working at home) with this litany of problems: 104 fever, 3.6 glucose count --12 is considered normal and 6 critical--, a distended stomach, and had been puking worms. Thoughts? Mickey and Liz did as much as possible before sending him to the hospital. We were all anxious. His results? His organs are completely switch around on the opposite side of his body as well as having intestinal blockage. After obtaining some blood, the boy will have surgery and hopefully be okay. And this isn't the first child they've seen like this and nor will it be the last in all likelihood. Something Becca said really seems apt to Haiti: Haiti is heart-breaking and breath-taking. So true.
     Well, on that cheery note, I'll head off now! I hope all is well on the homestead--where ever that may be.
xxLeah

Insert Your Own Witty Title Here

     Baby Joanne (recently left because she was healthy and still is) is back! If only for the night, but she makes my heart smile.
     But, on another note, I still hope that Vennessa lives. She was sent to Real Hope For Haiti and I worry. I know, I'm such a 'newbie' at this and kids die all the time. But should they? Blah, blah, blah, is what most people are going to be mentally thinking when they read the above. That's sad. Don't be that person. Mickey (and all those sociology classes I've attended at university--what a great way to spend my parens money!--) say that 5 billion people live on $1-2/day. Y'all, there are only around 7 billion people in the world. Want a quick reminder of how blessed you are? Go here: http://www.globalrichlist.com
     As always, don't get me wrong. I am not saying that having money (a lot or a little) is wrong. It's great! It's awesome! . . . depending on whether you value your money more than the needs of others. Money can't make you happy--unless you're buying chocolate ice-cream, in which case a direct positive correlation exists to happiness so yes, money can buy you ice-cream which makes you happy (in my book at least).
     Anyway, I'm approaching my 3 week benchmark here. Woo!! :D
     Hope all is well,
xxLeah
P.s: I tired a local beer called Prestige and the verdict? Yum! It won in 2002 and 2012 an award amongst the 'World Beer Cup'. Ha, okay, that means nothing to me but it was a good so thumbs-up!

Life Happens

     A new girl is arriving today, she hails from Rhode Island and goes by the name of Becca. She'll be here the entire time that I am so that'll be fun having a new face around--though, in all honesty, meeting new people is kinda hard sometimes.
     Anyway, today was interesting. I visited MyLIFESpeaks, a non-profit organization with a heart and focus on special need kids. They have a vision of making the community self-sufficient and really are just amazing folks working their hearts out. Also, a little one-year old who has been hospitalized for 3 weeks died today. The mom is 16 (she was 14 when she was pregnant) and devastated. Although it's tragic that the child died, in some ways, isn't it a relief? The kid had numerous health problems whilst the mother didn't have the ability to properly medically care for the child. It's strange that death can be the unexpected answer.
     Hope all is well,
xxLeah

"Not All Who Wonder Are Lost"

     Anyone recognize that quote in the blog title? Going once, going twice, and . . . gone. It's a Lord of The Rings quote. And, I agree. But let us move onto other matters, shall we?
     At the Demichel clinic today, I got peed on by a 1-yr old. I then proceeded to emotionally connect with this baby girl (Vanessa) who was so malnourished - - she's the girl in the photos. Yup, that's right folks. Apparently getting urinated on by a baby does the trick of emotional bonding for me. What's killer about Vanessa to me is that her mother seemed disconnect from her. It made me wonder if she would even give a passing thought if she died. Yeah, I don't have any funny comment or smooth transition into another part of this blog because cases like Venessa's aren't funny. It's real life. What cracks me up though is when I'm talking to someone back in the States or to some short-term missionary here and they say "oh, just wait till you go back to reality (talking about returning to the USA)". And here I am, talking to people who are older than me and thinking, "but isn't this reality? Isn't this how so many more people live comparatively?" Haiti. Haiti is reality--or switch it for any number of countries! The United States is a dream world that I'm thankful to call home but that's not reality.

     Are you tired of my wonderings yet? Hopefully not because here's a happy one! Yesterday, Mickey, Liz, and I went out to the grocery store when  it stared to rain. Naturally all the Haitians scattered like cockroaches but not us brave 'blans' (whites--this is what people call you down here). We were riding in a tap-tap (old trucks that have modified their trunks with wooden benches for people to sit on and usually have a covering of some sort with the words "Jesus Is Coming" colorfully printed on the front of the windshield). Well, Mickey and I were sitting in the back when the rain started and one Haitian was so concerned that we were getting
wet that he had me switch seats with him for better protection. Furthermore, he took a rag and wiped the rain off the seats whenever it started coming towards us 'blans' so we wouldn't get wet. However, in a truck that has as many openings as Swiss cheese, the Haitians attempts to keep us dry were futile but it's the thought that counts.
     Another strange thing I saw at clinic today was a little baby boy who seemed fined but he had badly swollen testicles which must've been causing a tremendous amount of pain to him. He seemed fine. But he wasn't. If he was a little American boy, you better bet your bottom dollar he'd be complaining but this little kid wasn't. Just something to chew on . . .
     Hope all is well,
xxLeah

 Ps: how would you like to be this man??

It's A Crazy World

     Disclaimer: I know that the photo of the little girl is sidewise but I can't figure out how to rotate it because I don't understand Macs! There. It was said. A young person doesn't understand Apple products/computers. I know, that's practically blasphemy these days. Oh well, sue me. Now moving on . . .
     Honestly? Sometimes it is hard to see the good in people. Today I visited an
 orphanage which appalled me. However, the Haitian government considers this orphanage and the woman who runs it to be top-notch. I'll leave that up to you, here are the details: there are 24 kids, all of which sleep in a room that is no bigger than two-average sized bathrooms combined (meaning, when one kid gets sick, they all do), they have a fungal infection running rampant (due to their sleeping arrangements almost all the kids have it), they eat food! . . . but only one time a day (meanwhile, the woman who runs the place --as well as her family--are quite, umm, how should I put it?, very well fed). The woman complains about a lack of money but honestly I don't care for any metaphors, illusions, etc., but let's just call that a bold face lie. She gets the money but she spends it on her own kids while the orphans starve--because that's what is happening. A penny for your thoughts on her? Of course there are worse places, but this was pretty abysmal--you could see the pain in their eyes.
     But! There is a plan in progress by a local Christian man here to get the kids adopted out and then shut down her program. I only hope that some of the kids don't die waiting for that to happen. But not all is gloom and doom. You see that
woman I'm standing beside? Her name is Yasmine,  she's a Haitian nurse who works with Mickey and Liz. She is a angel (although her medical skills need a bit brushing up on. . . ). She literally will sit down with these kids and practically force feed them if she has to, anything to make sure they eat. It's a horrible yet wonderful sight to see.
    Well, so far I've had an incredible experience and I'm sure there is much more to come. Thanks for sticking with me through all of this, readers. And, if you are American, then Happy 4th of July to you!
Prendrez-soin
xxLeah

Another Day, Another Opportunity

     Every day, I have opportunities to engage people and it's up to me to take those chances. Of course, knowing the language would help but that's really not an obstacle.
    Today I went to the other clinic here that Mickey and Liz run but in Bwajoit. It was emotionally draining. The kids just look . . . sick. But there's something more than that, you just know in your heart that some of these kids won't be alive next week--and they know it, too--their eyes tell you that. Yet they're resigned to their fate. They've accepted that life has felt them a crappy hand and that's what is hardest to witness. However, not all is woe. When a kid comes in that the program has worked miracles for, instead of sinking, the heart leaps and it makes the world go around again.
     On some random side notes:
     You know what's funny? Haitians do not like my nose-piercing. They have an obsession with keeping their faces/bodys 'clean' of marks. I spoke with a Haitian for about 40 minutes about his culture and why my nose piercing was not acceptable and it cracked me up. Also, this particular Haitian friended me on facebook and immediately proceeded to go through my photos . . . he actually called me fat in one of them! I'm not even kidding. Haha, it cracked me up . . . but only slightly.
     Haitians also have a fascination with clean shoes. I don't comprehend this but hey, not my culture so that's okay. Also, some of them do not like white people because of their skin color. I've had Haitians ask to marry me because I'm white and American but I've also had some tell me that they would never want to marry a white girl (not that I had even asked . . . ). Also, they literally put mayo and hot sauce on anything they get to chance to. Even on crepes. Another culturally Haitian thing? The belief that 1) pregnancy can last up to 2 years, 2)vampires, zombies, etc., really do exist, and 3) that Haiti will improve with time. The first two are comically and strange but the third conviction is what will eventually get Haiti back on its' feet.
    P.s: my computer has completely and utterly died on me. So! I will be updating when possible and let y'all stay updated. Oh, tomorrow I go to an orphanage and I'm excited!
    Hope all is well,
xxLeah