Kouri

A week ago yesterday, I went for a short run early Saturday morning near the convent where I stayed for the last few days I was in Haiti before returning to the US for the summer break.  Here is a poem I wrote about my brief encounter with a Haitian American woman, who was in Haiti visiting family and out running along the same road that morning.

Running on the same side of the road in opposite directions, 

we meet.  

I greet you in your native tongue, as you greet me in mine.  

You currently reside in the country of my birth, and I in yours.  

Our encounter brief, our connection deep,

Our conversation flows naturally 

between the two languages we both now can claim. 

though strangers, spontaneously we embrace,

then continue running

on the same side of the road in opposite directions.  

This morning as I ran through the streets of New Orleans, I passed a group of men, speaking Haitian Creole on the sidewalk by their parked taxi-cabs.  I said "bon jou," asked how they were, wished them a good day as I continued on my way.  

It is good to be back in the states. Since arriving very late Tuesday night, I have been able to visit with many Marianites here in New Orleans and in Opelousas Louisiana yesterday.  I am so grateful that I have a little bit of time to catch up and visit with people.  

Of course, I have been in the throes of reverse culture shock.  Sometimes especially the first couple of days, I would randomly respond in Creole for example when a sister knocked on my bedroom door.  A guy asked me for directions in New Orleans and since I did not understand his imperfect English, out of habit I caught myself beginning to respond to him in Creole; he was probably Latino, and clearly not Haitian.  When I was not sure where he was asking for directions to, he asked me if I live here; most likely he was simply wondering if he should be asking me or someone else for directions.  I probably looked even more puzzled as that simple questions seemed more complicated than the straightforward "yes" or "no" response anyone would expect.  I could not give him directions but I had empathy for him.  

I found myself admiring the roads, since they are paved and have sidewalks and then realized that nobody else walking, biking or driving, in New Orleans' Ninth Ward is likely to be the least bit impressed by the condition of these streets.  I also noted the lack of goats; I have not yet seen a single kabrit, not in the street, or in anyone's yard, not even tied to the roof a tap-tap, which are also notably absent.  Sometimes I have to smile at my own thoughts.     

During the next month and a half I will update from time to time, but am not committing to my usual weekly goal.  I hope you are enjoying the summer.  Take care.  Many blessings!     

  

Activities and Travel in Haiti

I am writing this on Saturday July 4^th, although since there is not an internet connection at the convent where I am staying, I am not expecting that I will be able to post it any time soon. 

Last Saturday evening, those of us who were still residing at the orphanage convent, attend a liturgy with the men of Holy Cross.  The liturgy was the ordination mass for two new priest, the celebration of their congregation having been in Haiti for 70 years, and the feast of Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  I was very touched during the ordination when every member of the Congregation of Holy Cross (men’s congregation) blessed each of the two young men, just before they were officially ordained, and then soon after each one greeted the new priests with welcoming hugs and handshakes.  It was a joyful (and quite long) celebration.  I am grateful for having attended.

Early on Monday morning, I closed my room at the Orphanage convent.  That day along with two sisters (one Haitian the other Canadain) a Canadian volunteer, and a driver, I made the trip to Portauprince.   Very soon after leaving the city limits, just as we were beginning to ascend the first mountain, the jeep stalled, for the first time.  Every now and then it seemed to suddenly stop, but most times it started again after a brief pause, only on a couple of occasions did starting it require that the chauffer open the hood and make some kind of adjustment.  We stopped for a while to rest at the beach house of the Sisters of Holy Cross.  I was grateful to walk the beach in the middle of the long journey and for a final conversation with the young woman who had been volunteering at the orphanage for a few months, whom I will miss.  When we arrived in Portauprince, they dropped me off at St. Damien Hospital.  I enjoy a catching up with a friend that evening.

The following morning, after mass, (which was a funeral) I visited the children at St. Anne and St. Louie.  The young girls at St. Anne enjoyed playing with my hair, as they had done frequently when I worked there.  The group of children who have disabilities now also residing there seem to be integrating well into the house.  One little girl who has been living at Kay St. Ann since before I left was tenderly sitting with achild, probably not much younger than herself, who appeared to have visual and intellectual disabilities.  “Is that your friend?”, I asked in Creole of the girl who held the smaller child.  While she was nodding in agreement, another young child responded, “Frè ak sè nou ye,” which means, “we are brothers and sisters.”   The children there are not just friends, they are family to one another. 

That afternoon, I traveled with others who were heading to St. Helen,  the large NPH orphanage in the mountains of Kenskoft.  Often I have wondered about the group of children who were brought there nearly four years ago now ( http://kmnhaiti.blogspot.com/2011/08/ke-kontan-ke-kase-happy-heart-broken.html  )  I am glad to report that they are doing well.  I was very happy to see them.  One child reminded me that I was present when she was baptized ( http://kmnhaiti.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day-to-my-mother.html )  Another, recalled a little exercise I had started one day when I was first at Kay St. Anne, when I felt the children would benefit from a little activity. A few of the children were so young when they resided at St. Anne that I did not expect that they would consciously remember me.  I introduced myself to them, telling them that I knew them when they were babies.  The next day, as I was walking into a celebration that had been planned for an employee’s birthday, one of those little children took me by the hand.  While waiting for the program to start, I chatted with her; she seemed to like that I remember when she learned to walk.  At some point during the prayer, and performances, she briefly fell asleep leaning against me.  While awake every now and then she would look up at me and smile.  

  

On Thursday I obtained my passport with the exit visa stamp in it and then returned to my friend’s home behind the hospital in Tabarre.  That afternoon, I was again able to spend a little time at FWAL.  Friday morning, after mass, I went to the bus station.  Very soon after departing the station, just as we were approaching to rotary by the entrance to the Portauprince airport, the bus had a very minor accident when it scratched a small pick-up truck.  We were delayed a bit, and probably caused a blokis (traffic jam.) I watched through the window as many cars rode on the sidewalk to go around the accident.  Soon enough we were on our way.  I returned to Cap-Haitian, to the convent where I plan to reside next year, feeling very grateful for many experiences and many people, and also feeling a little tired.