Journals from Haiti

Pat advised us not to let anyone carry our bags. One man took a couple before we could do anything, so the men tipped him. The security people searched through our bags, unwrapping souvenirs as if with great suspicion. I accidentally checked my carry-on but Allan helped me get it back.

We said goodbye to Pat with hugs and thanks, then went to get our passports stamped and wait. The people who had come with us were leaving with us also. We went out to wait under the wing. I took a few more photos and we boarded the plane.

This time I had a seat by the window, and I kept my eyes on it for a long time. I took a few last photos, then settled in and listened to NeedtoBreathe’s “The Heat,” comforting myself with the thought that even though I wasn’t in Haiti anymore, I wasn’t anywhere else yet either. Maybe I’d be back someday. “Si Dieu vlé.” If God wills.

I observed the unknown islands below and thought about who I’d miss. I read Psalm 84, reminding myself that wherever I am, I am in the Lord’s dwelling place. That is all I need.

I went downstairs to have coffee while Jovite ate. This would be the last time. He asked when we were leaving and I told him. A small rodent scurried along the edge of the kitchen floor, and he pointed and said “sourit,” then asked “rat?” and I nodded. He asked if I would come back next year - I hope so. Then if I liked Haiti and why - the people, and it is very beautiful. Pat reminded him not to forget his tie as he got up to leave for seminary. He shook my hand and said goodbye, and something in Creole. Pat translated, “greet your family for me.”

Soon the rest of us gathered at the table for blueberry pancakes, bananas, and juice. We paid Pat for our stay and gave her our extra money to use as she saw fit. She mentioned Jovite’s house and a roof for Pastor DeGonzaque’s house and was very surprised and thankful.

I’d been very careful about water but caught a bug anyway, so I told Pat. She told me what meds to take but said it happens a lot here and I’d be fine.

Enoch came up to say goodbye. He had to leave for something but knew we were flying out today and wanted to see us first. He hugged me. I will miss his kindness and funny comments.
I finished snipping threads off the new curtains, got ready, packed, and read the Bible, then went downstairs.

Clark showed me, on a map, some of the places where he looks for artifacts. He is very much into archaelogy and had told us about Columbus’s landing on Haiti. Someone asked if it was safe to say no one had gotten sick. I reluctantly admitted that I was, and Abby, ironically, had gotten a cold.

Pat took us to a store to get more vanilla for a few of us, and a woman named Suzie came with very nice wares that a few of us bought some of. The daughter of Claudette, the cook, also visited.

We had our last meal together - spaghetti with meat sauce, peas, and cole slaw - and about five minutes later it was time to load the truck. We gathered for one last photo and said goodbye. I tried to take in everything as if for the last time, but said to myself, “God willing, I’ll be back again.” We saw one last U.N. tank on the way to the airport.

Back at the Moores’ I finished the curtains and read the Bible. We met a Canadian missionary family at La Kay for burgers. I got a “sandwich au poulet” (chicken sandwich), which was really good, and we got ice cream afterward. We hurried home because it looked like rain, and the Canadian family came with us for a visit.

Abby and I went upstairs but were soon called down to show the curtains. Jovite and Mène had come too. She greeted us with a proper kiss on the cheek (”la bise,” as I later learned in French), and thanked us. I think she liked them. David took pictures of Jovite and Mène together and they laughed. They prefer serious photos, but their smiles were so big and beautiful.

Jovite went to get wedding invitations and gave one to each of us. We wouldn’t be there, but I was delighted to have one anyway.

The guests soon left, except for Jovite, who came back looking slightly dejected. He sat while we conversed (in English of course). Allan read to us, from a book whose name I forget (but I think I would like it), about not only doing what God wants, but wanting it ourselves, and how that can change your whole walk with Christ. We should be honest with God and ask Him to change our desires when they don’t align with His.

We discussed the study, shared thoughts about the trip, and worked out money details. I gave Clark my last chocolate bar. Apparently it was the perfect thing, and I hadn’t even planned that. I also gave Pat the soaps I’d bought as gifts, and they both really appreciated them. David and I shared information about other projects.

I heard another U.N. tank and ran to the doorway to watch it pass. Much of the vehicle was obscured by trees, but I could distinguish camo and blue helmets. I returned with a smile, and soon left to get ready for bed, glad there was still power so I could see.

After coming home, we decided to rest for about an hour before going to the market where we’d buy most of our souvenirs.

The market, a little way down the road from the Moores’ house, was a long line of small connected stalls, each with a number. Some shops were completely full of paintings - beautiful, vivid masterpieces of varying colors and styles. Others had clothing, jewelry, stone carvings, and other trinkets. Some had a variety.

I looked at the jewelry and carved turtles in a few shops and said I would keep looking and come back. I wanted to see everything before I decided. I ended up buying some jewelry for my mom, my sister, and myself, and a carved stone turtle, both in other shops. The stone merchant carved my name in the turtle.

We were heading toward the entrance to leave when one of the previous merchants ran up to me with a turtle all ready in a bag, offering it at a lower price. I hadn’t come back, and now I had no money left. I apologized but felt horrible. I’d spoken casually, not meaning to lie, but you really have to mean what you say here.

As we walked out, Pat said there was a U.N. tank approaching. I called “hola!” and waved. Most of them only looked at us and maybe smiled. My eyes followed the vehicle, searching for someone I recongnized. In the back of the tank, one soldier with sunglasses and a familiar face raised his hand in salute.