A New Hope and a Huge Dream

It is Friday night. After spending 9 hours at the office, I returned home to follow up emails with members of my church mission committee, began the process of preparing letters and stuffing envelopes to friends, family, and anyone I think might have a heart for my plight(s).

Since my return from Haiti two months ago, much in my life has changed. There is never a dull day, and I thank God that He is keeping me driven. I made a huge decision on a leap of faith that I no longer wished to be a candidate for the full-time marketing manager position at my company, giving up opportunity for a wealthy living, exciting travel, and a respected career. My heart became light and happy upon this decision, but it is only the beginning of my trials as I begin the next step. I spent many nights reaching out to organizations, seeking positions that would allow me to progress in the field of humanitarianism. At one point I seriously considered returning to school for a second bachelor's degree....in nursing. Considering my weak stomach for blood and inability to watch televised surgical procedures, I knew I was reaching. Yet I was strong in the mindset that I wanted to find a skill that would be beneficial in Haiti, because it seemed clear that nobody needed an entry-level marketing professional in post-earthquake Haiti. I looked into Americorps programs, submitted applications to the UN Foundation, and nagged all those I was barely acquainted with how to go about starting my own non-profit foundation.



Proposed Food for the Poor Housing for Jacky & Manno's Families



I was able to maintain a facebook-friendship and communication with much of the staff at Wings of Hope including Jacky, Manno and Alcindor. It kept me connected, and I shared with them my frustration about the complications that my culture creates for itself. Then they shared with me their frustrations that they could not fully provide for their family. Jacky's children are sick because they are still living in tents in Port-Au-Prince. Manno's greatest fear is that he will not have enough money to send his two children to school, which costs roughly $200 each every year, and his wife cannot find a job to help support. At some point, God put it in my mind that there might be a way to build a house for each of their families. I knew I could not do this alone, so I reached out to Habitat for Humanity, Building Goodness Foundation, and finally I came to Food for the Poor. There response was positive, and they have agreed to match our support and ultimately supervise the building of proud, stable structures, but only if we match the support to reach the $12,800 total goal. 





I also had a crazy idea to organize an event that would provide some care for the children at Wings of Hope. With little to no budget, I met with another boy apart of the youth who attended our mission trip, and we planned to hold a carwash in the area. I figured, if cheerleaders and boyscouts can do it, not too hard, right? Wrong. I now know the meaning of "hittin the streets", and that's just to secure a location. Then we had to put a $60 down payment to use the Sunoco gas station, and now I'm not even sure who's going to do the actual "washing" since all those originally enthusiastic about helping now have other plans. It will all work out I'm sure, but I've grown into a leader, planner, organizer, graphic designer of brochures and letter-writer overnight. 

Now I've saved my biggest "cause" and life-changing phenomenon for last. In my search for work opportunities, I came to find Partners Worldwide in an online search. An organization that operates in over 20 developing countries around the Globe, there vision is for "business as a ministry for a world without poverty". Their mission is to "encourage, equip and connect business and professonal people in global partnerships that grow enterprises and create sustainable jobs, transforming the lives of all involved."  They had one available position listed: international program management internship based in Port-Au-Prince for a period of 12 months. There have been times in job searching where I thought, "wow, that would be a good match!" This however, felt like God had heard me ask, and said, "Ok here you go." The one downside was that I had missed the cutoff date by 2 weeks. Well, can't hurt to try, right? The following day I received a call, and followed up the next day with a 4-way conference call between myself, their local coordinators, and the partnership manager in Haiti, calling in on Skype. It was, to date, my hardest interview ever. The questions were tough and deep, and I truly had to search within to find the words to show my strengths, and even my weaknesses. I received my offer letter 2 days later.

Long story short... I am now about to embark on a year long journey, improving and implementing the 100,000 Jobs initiative- creating 100,000 jobs in Haiti by the year 2020. I will utilize my skills in marketing, and connect with people native to numerous areas in Haiti while living with a local family, and I couldn't be happier. Here's the catch, I have to raise the entirety of $17,250 by pleas to family, friends, churches, businesses, anybody with a heart. At times when I have wanted nothing more than to remain anonymous, escape from my past, and stay private in my affairs, my drive to make this dream a reality is pushing me to reach out to anyone and everyone, and check my pride at the door. 

Many of you may have been forwarded to this blog based on letters you received. Thank you for reading through to the end. I know from experience how frustrating it can be when people are always asking you for money to help their cause, when you just spent the last hour sitting in traffic, staring at the "empty gas" light on your dash, wondering if today will be the day that you have to push your car home in 100 degree heat because you can't afford a drop of gas. Or waking up at 7 am for three days straight to see if your paycheck was deposited yet, only to see that
 -$248 staring back at you because you underestimated the banks ability to clear checks you wrote for insurance, car payments and student loans all at the same time. Life is hard. Making the decision to give up dreams of financial success and take on dreams of "global human success" sometimes feels impossible. But nobody can do it on their own. Pride a tough attitude won't get you through life. And nobody ever went into poverty thinking, "if I only hadn't donated that $20 to charity". If I am wrong, I apologize- and let me know, I will give you $20...do you take personal checks?  

Please keep checking in, and I promise to stay more faithful in my updates, rather than unloading 2 months of crazy happenings, for thats where I am about to embark...insanely inhabiting a developing nation with the hope that just maybe I will do a little good, but most definitely I will do my best.

To partner with me in support of my next 12 monthes building connections in Haiti, please go to donate.partnersworldwide.org/. Select a Type of donation- scroll to "People".  Once selected, scroll down the "Choose a Program" tab on the right to "Lara Baldauf (Haiti)" You may then choose a one-time donation, or to make life easier and allow for a greater assistance, pledge a smaller monthly amount. All donations, prayers and encouragement means more than you know, and I am grateful for your role in my development. 

The Return from Heaven

I am back in the United States. I am back in the world of annoying alarm clocks versus nagging roosters in the morning. Deadlines and tough decisions at work versus the slow pace of watching the rain and waiting for the bell to ring at lunch. Terrible reality tv shows and news content featuring political hypocrits versus praise-dance parties and heart-wrenching love of youth.

Upon my return to work Monday morning, I spent my time waiting to hear if my position with the company is guaranteed permanent, while sharing with anyone who would listen about my experiences and joys of "roughin it" in Haiti. I took lunch sitting near a fountain, reading a book on the history of Haiti, wondering if Haitians would consider a fountain for aesthetic appeal to be a cruel joke in the face of their limited water supply. This book I am reading has confirmed my praise for the St. Joseph's foundation: Haitians need to come to the realization that the solution to their problems must come from within, not from the saving grace of another country. In establishing St. Joseph's, Michael Geilanfeld knew this secret as well. He began with a few small boys, and gave them the tools, education and ability to grow into leaders. From here they took on the Wings of Hope Orphanage as leaders, and within that home, disabled children are helping other disabled to learn and grow. Michael is that small mustard seed, from which nations may one day arise.

This sculpture was carved out of the tree trunk that supported the weight of collapsed building,
 saving the life of a member of St. Joseph's.

Today, I spoke with my marketing director, and after some discussion, I'm realizing the position I was once so excited about, may not be the route for my passion afterall. I must make a decision within hours, and I've never felt so torn about anything. How do I support a company that ultimately provides technology used in war, when my own mission is to foster love and improvements to a third-world country? I need this position as a financial means to support myself, or else I would serve no good for anyone. I shouldn't turn down the only opportunity I have right now for a career, when I have not located any other existing opportunities to serve in Haiti.

The night before we left, KC came to our devotion to share the future plans of Wings. She passed around blueprints for a $4 million facility to house all the children, the staff, a school for other disabled children, and an indoor therapy pool! Her dreams are huge for this compound shaped fittingly shaped like a butterfly, and I admire everything about this woman whom is so similar to myself. She shared with me during our breakfast-prep Saturday morning that she felt her life is more compatible with Haitian culture. God had called upon her for service, and she came upon this opportunity. Almost envious, I hugged her good bye and let her know how much she inspired me. She said, "I know you'll be back, that's not even a question," then showed the children how to blow kisses as our van pulled away. I know they say you should never look back, but I couldn't help but glue my eyes to the 2nd story balcony at Steve, biting his nails, too upset to come say good bye. Or at Josephine, practically sprouting wings from her wheelchair on the top balcony to come with us. Jacky rode with us to Port-Au-Prince, so at least I felt I could save one last good bye until I reached the airport.

So I'll leave this post with some things I learned from Haiti, hopefully continuing my ongoing efforts in future posts as I attempt to carry out my passion:

1)  Living in even the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere is no excuse for bad fashion
2) The term "act your age" is totally irrelevant in any context
3) Justin Beiber is famous....everywhere whether you like it or not
4) Beyond mountains are.....more mountains
5) You don't need money to be rich
6) Sanitation is a rarely afforded luxury
7) Toilets don't have to flush clockwise, counter-clockwise, or in any direction if they don't flush
8) Guys like girls who cover up and don't show too much skin
9) Earthquakes lead to as many miracles as they do tragedies
10) In faith, God will always provide what you need, not always what you want

I hope you've enjoyed my attempt at social networking through blog. I ask that you assist me with my life's passion by sharing a gift of your choice to the Wings of Hope Sponsor-a-child program, or to the Building Fund.

Click on link:
https://npo.networkforgood.org/Donate/Donate.aspx?npoSubscriptionId=1003031

Foggy Friday

Oh how I dreaded Friday since it is next to Saturday, when we leave. The rain (lapli), let up enough that some of the children were able to attend their weekly therapeutic riding session. At around 8 am, two large vans pulled up, and the eager children were carried or escorted down for their one escape from the facility that week. Steve came out wearing a brand new pair of riding britches. Almost all of my "visitors" group chose to accompany them, so I stood with Jacky at the balcony, watching and sending them off with waves, air kisses and au revoirs!

Those of you who know me may wonder why I would give up the chance to see my children riding horses, two of my favorite things in the world. It was simply because I couldn't fathom leaving the other children in wheelchairs, dirty blankets, and trapped in their own disabilities behind. The staff had a pretty good remedy for these children anyway.

Everyone was wheeled downstairs after their breakfast, and gathered in the main dining room. The Brad Pitt of Haiti, Gary, who happens to be the second assistant director (next to Manno), was already at the house, and ready to take to his guitar. Manno also proved to be a master of guitar and jembe drum, and we began our dance/praise party. The songs and chantings were mostly of the Haitian song book, but the beautiful Gary had a few classics we all knew in his repertoire. "This is the day...that the lord has made/ sa se jou a, segne ya fe ya".

Haitian Brad Pitt Gary and Manno at the guitars

I spent two hours dancing, attached to Baby John. He is a verrry special case and may be responsible for my motherly protective instincts. The first day we were given a tour, I saw a small rascal crouched in the corner, detached from the rest, grubbing on his plate of food like a chimpanzee with his hands. I knew I wanted to get to know this one on first sight. He has a temper, and often runs away crying. He sits in the autistic class every day, crazily beating two sticks on the table (he would make for a very intense drummer in a heavy metal rock band). The background pamphlet on each child I had read mentioned he occasionally has a very endearing laugh and extraordinary smile...if you can find a way to seek out his joy. This was to become my new challenge. I had that opportunity realized one morning after breakfast, when I went to wipe his hands and face clean after his mad feeding frenzy in the corner. As I approached him with a towel, he began to wimper and cry, but I gently stroked his chin, pleading, "pou souple, zanmi mwe, ou remnen / please, my friend, I love you" It worked, as the next thing I knew, John leaped into my arms, wrapped his legs around my waist, and was not seen once the rest of the week without clinging to myself or one of the other female visitors. He became obsessed with that attachment, screaming and crying anytime he was pried away from his captive. Later, during my ride to town, Jacky told me that he had never seen John connect to anyone in such a way, so we had indeed made a huge difference. Although I now have bruises on my waist, and massive arm muscles from holding him, the staff refer to John has Lala petit gason, or Lala bebe. "Lala's son".

So during our makeshift dance session on Friday, I was wrapped by John, and danced for hours, with the two of us patting out the beat on each other's backs, until I was blessed by his laughter and smile. For one miraculous moment, bebe John released himself from my grip, joined the circle, and began dancing his praise with the others. My heart and pride literally exploded, and I cried at the sight, thanking God I was witness to that joy. The dancing followed with the resident minister leading devotions and passages from the Bible, in Creole. I slowly progressed around the room, holding hands and stroking each confined child until I was sure they had received an adequate amount of the love and attention they desperately desired, then I would move onto another, to repeat my therapy. "Brad Pitt" Gary followed in my example until lunchtime, when we feasted on the most delicious cuisine, which Cendo had slaved away for 5 or 6 hours to prepare. The other children returned, and we shared some downtime for awhile, until it came time to say our goodbyes.

First we attempted to prepare the children for bed. There was a lack of clean dry clothing, as the rain had made it impossible to hang clothes out on the line to dry. Many of the children were still in their riding britches, and some were simply left in the soiled diapers and pants they had slept in the night before. Our group had left a huge pile of clothes for donation in the guest house, so I methodically went back and forth between the houses, matching each child in need with an item of ours that might hopefully fit their tiny frail bodies. My hope is that in wearing these clothes, each child remembers who of our group they belonged to, and will feel they are still encompassed by our warmth.
It was while I was removing Josea's shoes, a technical genius (he has his own Best Buy stored under his bed, I swear), that he did something unexpected. He began to stroke my back, as I had been doing for the others all week. I was shocked by how comforting and tender it felt. There was an immediate release of stress, and although he isn't able to speak, rather he grumbles sounds, I knew how much he appreciated our work that week.

Junior...the 26 year old rescued from trash.

The other children were not quite as forgiving that we were saying goodbye, some, including Steve, ran away as I approached. They seemed so hurt, as though they were being abandoned. It made me cry, and I was mad at myself for showing them my pain, when they spend everyday living in the world of that pain. As our dinner bell rang, I sat with Junior for awhile. He began his methodical self-picking, and grinding his teeth, as though he was severely stressed. I kept repeating to him that he was special, loved for the rest of time, and no body would ever forget about him again. I assured him he is a handsome man, and he mattered to everyone in the world.

I sat with Cendo til it became dark, confessing my own fears, worries and thoughts about the kids. He reassured me with promises that my work will make a difference, and I left him to depart for my group's evening devotions, where KC shared with us, the Orphanage's plans for the future. This I will save for another day, because now I must go through the process of determining how I may best offer my service to assist them with this massive $4 million dream project for Wings.

Jacky's Story...Thursday Delight

I will tell you of my new brother, Jacky, as I am writing online in the dark, at 3:30 am, listening to "I wanna be a billionaire" coming from next door. It's rather ironic when you're listening to that song with a strange stench of urine, baby vomit, and who else knows what coming from....yourself.

I love the natural progression in relationships of this experience. As promised, I will explain my new brother, Jacky Asse. Instead of writing online Thursday morning, I chose to help Jacky, Manno, and the residentual house advisor, KC, with cooking breakfast. As I cracked eggs in the bowl, the guys stared at my me with a strange look of fascination. KC explained that they had never seen anyone quickly crack each egg over the bowl, rather they pain-stakingly cut a hole in the top of each and pour it in. Each meal prepared for the "visitors" has taken upwards of two and one-half hours. In many cases, the meals are prepared in the dark (mom I donated those LED touch-button lights to the pitch-black cooking-cause). The scrambled eggs we had that morning, prepared by contributions of 3 staff and myself, were the best I've ever had, no joke I tasted love in every bite.

At some point on Thursday, I asked Jacky how to make the coffee...meaning, where do you keep the beans. This turned into Jacky not only making a whole pot of coffee for me, but going down 2 floors to turn on the solo gas-guzzling generator for 15 minutes....just for my coffee. I kept telling him he was making too huge of a fuss, not to go to the effort. His response to me was completely serious, "I am here to serve you, Lala." Please don't read into this as myself being a prissy, needy American. It is the manner of hospitality here. Even the most poor will still break out the best china, give you their finest of everything as their guest. I will do my best to serve Jacky now in return as he has requested, by sharing with others, the story he so eloquently came to speak at our devotions on Thursday evening.

Born in the countryside, 30 years ago, Jacky's father was a "Tonton Macoute" (a militant organization that terrorized the people for political gains), who left Jacky and his mother with nothing more than a bucket of milk, to pursue his chase of many other women and money. Without a man to provide, Jacky's mother turned to the streets. After awhile, a christian woman noticed them and took them in. Unfortunately, Jacky's mom later got involved with another man, so they left the christian woman's care, only to discover this other man had infected Jacky's mother with AIDS. She died in the early 1990s. Jacky, was taken in by his aunt and uncles, not as a member of family in need, but as a "restavek", or a child abused and used to do work, left to sleep on a pantry floor...a child slave. He was eventually reunited with the christian woman, and she referred him to St. Joseph's Home for boys. This is the original organization of Michael Gellenfeld, a member of the Mother Theresa order, who eventually took ownership of the orphanage in which I stay. There, Jacky found his love for dance in their dance troop, and found passion in receiving applause by others. He moved onto another part of the organization, Trinity House school for streetboys, where he was dance teacher. It was here at Trinity house in Jacmel where Jacky was present during the 2010 earthquake. He was kept safe, but spoke of a miracle he was witness to. A 15-day old infant was buried in the rubble of a building collapse. 7 days after the quake, the child was discovered, untouched, without a speck of dust or scratch on skin. This, he proclaimed, was God's protection. (I will also mention that miraculously, not a single orphan of Wings was harmed in the earthquake either...in fact, Carlyn, a severely challenged and mute girl, spoke her first words shortly after the event as though she was shaken out of her shell). Continuing Jacky's story...he was asked by Michael to serve as Director of the orphanage shortly after the earthquake. He felt overwhelmed, worried he wasn't properly equipped, but knew he was being called to serve, and saw the importance of his background of abandonment and lack of worth to that of the disabled, abandoned children, who some compare to as "living pieces of furniture". Jacky now has two sons of his own that he can only see on weekends, as he resides in the house during the week, ensuring each child is properly fed, bathed, clothed and educated. His daily tasks include managing both orphanage and guest house, ensuring there is enough power from the generator, and rain water in the cisterns to operate, all appropriations of funds and donations, traveling the dangerous route into town to gather supplies for all 35 children, full team of staff, and the particularly "needy" visitors who arrive fairly often. Jacky is in awe that as an abandoned boy living on the street, used by his family, he has been chosen as a leader. Most haitians, he says, leave for America once they are able, never to return. He knows the awesome power and special secret of love that Haiti holds, and he realizes that it is vitally important that he stay and do his best to teach others to lead, inspire others to hope, and God will continue to provide. 

Since I have been offline a few days and writing this in retrospect, I will let you know that when I came to assist with breakfast on Friday morning, I walked in to find Jacky cracking the eggs over the bowl, as he had learned by watching me. I am so proud and have such awesome love for my new brother... and he is now the proud owner of a new "boom-boom" music box. You can find him on facebook, and he will be coming to the states this fall, where he will share his story, and powerful speaking capabilities in person.

Rainy season and Wednesday

This post will start with me telling you how excited I am that I just took a shower outside in the rain! No joke. Shampooed, conditioned, shaved... and it was freezing. I'm feeling extremely rejuvenated!

Since I'm beginning with the last event of my day, I'll go ahead and continue the backwards-trend of this post. After our evening devotions, I came down to see Mano, the assistant director, fallen asleep with the bi-lingual english-creole book of poetry I had brought over his chest. It was one of many sights to tug at my heart strings this week. He has the kindest smile, a loving demeanor, very handsome features, and only one leg. He lost the other while riding in back of a truck that was rear-ended. Quite a common occurrence due to the crazzzy driving here. So Mano usually hops around on one foot unless he feels the need for his prosthetic, but I keep attempting to trick him and his strong pride into letting me help him with those mundane tasks that 2-legged people usually take for granted.

During dinner, I realized that Peterson, an autistic boy who keeps to himself with a helmet and paces on the porch where we eat, was still outside, standing in the rain. I approached him, asked (in creole!) if he was ready to go up to bed. He simply nodded, and we made our way back to the children's compound. I wasn't aware he needed as much direction as he did, but I literally had to guide him up the ramp-stairs, to his bed, remove his helmet, his shoes, tuck him under the blanket, and kiss him on the forehead to go to sleep. Doing this, I didn't realize how many of the boys were watching, and in turn expected the same attention. So I made my round, tucking in 39 children of various ages and abilities, kissing each one of the forehead, and feeling the tears trickle down as I realized that my heart has exploded with intense motherly love for such a huuuuge family of children. Even Junior came out of his world just slightly enough to attempt to kiss my cheek.

I sat with Cendo for awhile, watching the rain. He continued to confess his love, saying he chooses me. I explained that I did not want to break his heart, and I was leaving Saturday. He says he respects me. He sees how I am with others, and God is very happy with me. Love as big as the Sun has been radiating from everyone, including myself in this country. It may be the richest country in the world, with the greatest lack of monetary wealth. That cannot be a coincidence.

During afternoon chill-out time, I sat with a group of 12, listening to my boom-boom music box, and the sound of the rain. Each child was desperately seeking to have a physcial touch connection to at least some part of my body....but I'm not very big so I felt a bit stretched out.

The morning began with a small group of us going into the town of Petionville to pick up necesseties from market. I value the experience, as I was riding up front with the director, Jacky, who is a total blast. He loves my boom-boom music box also, so we attached it to his ipod, and sang Rihanna or Wyclef at the top of our lungs the whole way down the mountain. He speaks great english, so he was able to answer all my questions about the children and the orphanage. He is coming to speak to our group during devotions tomorrow night about his life and hopes for the orphanage, so I can't wait to share about this amazing person.

Tuesday

Steve

Ohh Tuesdays. I always say they're my least favorite day. Maybe in Haiti too... I began the morning with a quick breakfast, then headed over to see the children. They were still being bathed, many of them looked as horrified as I did about cold water poured over their heads. I went to the balcony to sit with Josephine, who was already wearing a beautiful pink shirt we had brought as a donation. I gave her my ipod so she could hear some super-cool tunes, and we were quickly joined with my best zanmi, Steve.

For breakfast, they were to be fed a soupy mixture of beans and rice. I was assigned to feed BJ, who has severe autism and cystic fibrosis. He was soooo excited for "manje", he knocked the plate out of my hand, all over Clifton, his buddy in the wheelchair next to him. As helpers rushed to clean up Clifton for the second time that morning, and I hastily tried to clean soup from the floor, BJ began to cry and wail, thinking he had ruined everything, mostly his precious breakfast. I found my twin, Soni, and was graciously given another bowl of the food, and once I returned to BJ and had him well fed, I felt I had fixed that pwoblem. As I walked by him a few minutes later at prayer time, he grabbed my hand, and laid his head against my side, smiling hugely. It gripped my heart, and I knew he felt loved as well.

As I was walking around, attempting to wipe faces after breakfast with one of few washclothes they have, I noticed a small boy rocking in his bed, with a helmet on. I recognized him from the book we had as Junior. I also remembered reading that Junior was found abandoned and living in a forest. He prefers to keep to himself, he has a problem with self-mutilation (hence the helmet), and he is a cuddler. He is also 26 years old...same as myself. Age and number of years are being defined in a new light this trip. Most of the "babies" we spend hours rocking here, are actually 5-11 years old, but were so malnutrioned during the time of their abandonment, they are miniature. So I coaxed Junior out to prayers, by stroking his hands, and telling him what a special "zanmi" friend he is to everyone.

During prayer time, I was asked to begin our prayers. Its funny....I didn't know what to say...I think I mentioned something about a good day, a good meal, and for lots of love and laughing. With Steve by my side all day, that wasn't a pwoblem at all.

Alcindor "Cendo"

I was assigned to the kitchen to help make the children's lunch. There I got to meet the resident cook, Cendo. He speaks english almost fluently, but claims he needs a lot of work. I told him my name, but it turned out it is much easier here for me to go by my sister's nickname for me, "Lala". Cendo and I talked about everything, including his broken heart. I told him we're going to go out in the village and find him a lady! I hope his english is clear enough to understand that I didn't mean we're going to go out in the village, and I'm going to be his lady... for he kept telling me the rest of the day to never forget that I am special and beautiful.

I've discovered as true with most autistics, Steve has a hidden brilliance...in music! His singing voice is gorgeous, although the only thing he sings is "JEZI, HALELLUJAH, BEF!" (Jezi=jesus, Bef=beef???) Often time we have impromptu music beat sessions- either with a toy harmonica, or make-shift drum pots.

The afternoon gave us a bit of a break, so some of our group broke off to take a walk through the jungle mountain. You'd be amazed at the length people travel with objects the size of refrigerators, wait, let me rephrase, actual refrigerators on their heads, up steep hills. Meanwhile, us blancs were slipping and sliding, stopping for photo ops. Hidden away, in the side of a rocky slope where the pigs, cows and goats freely graze, we found a group of locals playing a game of soccer...with an old basketball, in a pit of mud they had cleared especially for the occasion. I could just hear the dramatic music in the background of my head, as the dirty, muddy blancs took the final score... and launched into a crazzzzy victory dance that looked more like a seizure of the limbs. We said our "au revoirs!" and headed back down the slippery slope towards the orphanage. Once at the bottom, we looked back, and found the group of locals had adopted our victory dance, and the new seizure-limb craze has spread across the island already!

The rest of the afternoon I spent either washing more dishes by hand, and playing a huge role in bringing in the fun in bike-time. There are some pretty cool "wheels" available to the children who can use them to fly in circles around the patio. Some with less abilities were brought out for the fresh air and attention, and the rest were being serenaded by guitar in their compound, while girls fixed them up with stick on tattoos. Every ounce of individual attention they receive is soaked up completely, and even those with very little cognitive or verbal skills are able to show in the most minute ways how important we are to them.

Papa,                                                               Father,
yo di m' se malere.                                           They say that I am poor.
Mesi, Papa.                                                     Thank you, Father.
Fe m' pov an espri tou,                                   May I also be poor in spirit,
pou m' sa erite wayom bondye a.                    that I may inherit the Kingdom of God.

Monday Fun-day!

Sara with Belinda

Yesterday we took the day to explore the area, go to a nice restaurant in Port Au Prince where we were treated to french fries, ice cream, and coca cola. We then spent hours bargaining with vendors for street art, and dining on my favorite for dinner, pumpkin soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Wow, doesn't sound like we're roughin' it yet, huh?


 Monday began with another call of the rooster, and another fight to the "shower". Then after breakfast, it was time to feed the children. The majority of the children are in wheel-chairs, most have severe mental challenges, but all have the ability to look you in the eyes, and grab you with their infectious laughter or other sounds of joyful appreciation.

Choupy with Lazaar and me

I had the opportunity to shadow the Occupational Therapist yesterday, Choupy. He pulls 1-2 kids out of their regular classes at a time, and gives them each personalized attention to increase their hand/muscle coordination. The first was Steve. Since arrival, Steve was one of the first to get my attention because he is never seen without a smile, his laugh is infectious, and not confined to a wheelchair, Steve loves our dance parties. Choupy was challenging Steve to button up a shirt, and tie shoe laces. God bless him I've never seen anyone concentrate so hard, get so frustrated, yet keep smiling so big. Choupy's patience conveys to me they've probably been working on this task for a few monthes now.

Throughout the day, the levels of ability were way much less: cases of cerebral palsy where the most you could do was squish play-dough between their hands, and massage out the stiffness in their joints. Choupy spoke English very well. He inquired of me how one gets a scholarship to study in the states, how much it costs to buy a car, and what college was like. I would like to help him at least research different scholarship opportunities, but one of the leaders on my trip told me I must be cautious that Haiti can't afford to lose it's trained native medical professionals to the states, or it would suffer greatly.

I also had the privilege of meeting Soni, he was the original disabled orphan, who learned to walk, and eventually became an integral part of the St. Joseph's boys dance team, who travel on tours in the states. He has become so high-functioning, and such a great example of what these kids could eventually become, he is now one of the many caring teachers in the school, as well as the celebrity who had a children's book published about himself. We joke that we are ice-cream twins...he is chocolate, I am vanilla. Inside humor I suppose?

After classes, and the very difficult task of feeding a girl who doesn't quite have the use of her tongue rice and beans for lunch, I volunteered to wash their dishes with some of the boys who are paid "allowance" to do this chore. I practiced my creole more: pwop-clean, sal- dirty. Travay- work, Jwe- play. Easy enough. However, pulling water from a 15-foot deep basin in the side of the house, using a fraying rope tied to a bucket was not so easy. I wonder how many people have fallen in, and who might still be down there.

After my chore, I brought over my "boom-boom" aka. ipod and travel speakers, where the dance party began. I am still worn out from all that dancing and shaking...phew! Later in the afternoon were more classes, where I assisted Josephine, an 11 year old very intelligent, bi-lingual little girl, in pulling herself up 2 stories worth of stairs. She is learning to walk, and I really believe she may be independent of the orphanage one day, where she will live out her hopes as a famous singer.

 I have already monopolized the computer for far too long, so off I'll go to another day, with many more challenges, and I already think it's going to be a hot one, but no where near the 90 degree heat wave your experiencing at home, I'm sure! Love and good thoughts, wish me luck as I attempt another battle for the "shower"!