Getting Coconuts

Luc's Haiti toy

Our shelves that C put together with his Leatherman, some string, four rocks, and a lot of patience for my birthday.

Corey and Elisabeth turn 32 in Haiti!

C got a cake with "Korey" written on it in pink icing from the people of Wozye- quite a gift considering they do everything over an open fire.  And C went shopping from some American goodies for me- oreos, doritos, cheese, vienna sausages, and peanut butter.  

Luc and Anna Ray helping Manita, our housekeeper and best friend, shell the beans.

My sister Mia bravely arrived in Wozye on Saturday.  Luc and Anna Ray spent the days before her arrival counting minutes and hours until she arrived.  I counted along with them.  They were anxious to teach her some Creole, show her the ocean, the pigs and the chickens, and the tiny kitten at the house down the road.  Mostly they were anxious to see a face they know and love.

Having her here brought our reality- living on a busy road, no lights, no water, no car, no phone, no privacy- home in a hard way.  Corey and I stayed up late last night discussing how to make this time in Haiti work as I was ready to hop on the plane with Mia when she leaves.  Last night we had a game plan- get a car and move to Port Salut where there is the hope of electricity, phone contact, and a yard.  Corey was on a mission this morning when he left us at 7:00a.m. to discuss our plans with the mayor and our good friend Philippe.

As word of our possible departure to the nearby town spread, we started receiving gifts.  Pierre and Philippe sat us all on their front porch offering to buy us cokes, find a car, build a fence, fix the water all in the hope that we will stay.  Our neighbors brought us their two eggs as they had also heard we might leave and want us to be happy here, to stay here, to have hope here.

I was moved to tears partly because I thought we had it all figured out.  Mostly, though, because of the true generosity and welcome that we have received from those who have so little.  Even when we lose hope for Haiti, the people continue on hoping and praying that life will get easier and last longer for them and for their children.

As I sit here writing, a young man named Sonny is climbing the outside wall of our home with bucket after bucket of water- filling the cistern for running water- asking us to stay.

I'm not sure where we will end up or if I will fly out of here on the next available plane.  But, I do know that I am moved and that I am the witness to great grace and generosity in my life.

Life in Wozye, Haiti

Getting Gas

The price of gas here is still around US $8.00 a gallon.  There appear to be somewhat conventional gas stations in Les Cayes.  Although, at this point, I have yet to see the pumps open.  So, gas is sold on the side of the road by various "vendors" who sit in front of their homes with a gallon oil jug filled with gas.  To make the trip from Wozye to Cayes requires approximately ten gallons of gas and we seem to manage to keep the car running- one gallon at a time- as we happen upon these varied vendors.

Life is difficult in the developing world for lots of reasons.  But, the lack of infrastructure or any structure seem to make commerce the hardest.  To get somewhere- you need gas.  But, you must first search up and down the roads and hope that the gas you already have will last you that far.

Corey attempts to travel to Port Salut every two to three days to return e-mails, update the website- work.  This has proven more difficult than we ever imagined as they have the correct equipment but often don't have gas to fuel the server.

It's hard to imagine until you get here how difficult day-to-day tasks become for the Haitian people just to live, let alone succeed.

We are well and can't thank everyone enough for your continuing thoughts, prayers, and support for InKind's goat project.

New friends

Elisabeth goes to market

M'ap Souffri

Today is Sunday and the only day of the week that we have a commitment involving an exact time and place- Church.  Church starts at 10:00a.m. inside Wozye (undun Wozye).  We got out our church clothes and Anna Ray's beloved gold shoes and headed out.  By 8:45 we were on our way- holding hands as we walked the 45 minutes to the Church.  Walking is a part of life here that Luc and Anna Ray have not learned to enjoy yet.  I encourage them to walk by discussing how big their muscles will be and singing Disney princess songs with Anna Ray.  They are somewhat willing with good conversation.  The church involved lots of singing and the beautiful drums of Haiti.  I understood very little which in some ways was more enjoyable.  It started raining during the service and the deacon had to stop speaking and everyone sang as the rain on the tin roof made it too loud for us to hear anything else.  The walk back was hard as the roads were full of ponds and mud.  We made it, though, and congratulated ourselves with a cold Sprite and Coke (the cold part being the most special of all).

Everywhere we go people greet us with "Bonjou!  How are you today?"  The response that comes first to my mind is, "M'ap souffri."  I'm suffering.  Of course I never utter that as our lives are good and I am most definitely one of the most well fed women here.  But there are times that I would be willing to cash in our 401K for central air, running water, some 409, and a salad with blue cheese dressing.

Yesterday we spent the morning at the weekly market here.  The vendors all sell essentially the same goods- rice, beans, oil, chicken bouillon, spaghetti, onions, soap, barrettes, and candy.  You can also find local remedies and amoxicillin in plastic baggies.  One of our neighbors, Madame Micheline, was selling the clay cakes that we have often read of in the US papers.  They are "cakes" made of clay, oil, and salt.  The villagers who can not afford food eat these.

So, M'ap souffri... Luc has picked up on this common Creole phrase too.  As we walked back from the market yesterday our hands slipping out of one anothers because of all the sweating we were doing, he told me "Mama, I'm suffering."

The hardest part of living here intellectually is realizing how much we have given up to live here and still how we have so much more than everyone around us.  My eyes are different this time in Haiti as I have children too.  The struggles of the families to survive hits much closer to home than it did before.  More than anything, I am hoping to be a witness to the life and the struggles here.

We miss you all- Elisabeth

Corey assembles the kerosene stove

Our kitchen

Grandpa Ray hung the broom handle.

Meeting Luc

A Whole New World (This is Anna Ray's theme song for our life here)

Greetings all from Les Cayes, Haiti.  Corey and I rode into Les Cayes today with a good friend of ours, Philippe, to do some "shopping."  We spent three hours in the busy market in Les Cayes and were able to purchase a metal pan, a bucket, a camping stove burner, a palm branch broom, a juicer, a coffee mug, a cup, and some Louisiana hot sauce.  We had a much longer list of needs, but it became shorter and shorter as the sun and sweat and crowding and chaos got the better of us.

As you all know, the kids and I made it safely to PAP where Corey met us and then made the trip to our new home, Wozye.  Luc and Anna Ray are adapting much better than we had hoped for.  We live on the second floor of a concrete home and have a balcony that looks out onto the road and the ocean.  Haitian children often crowd the road by our house to watch our movement.  Luc and Anna Ray take great pleasure now in standing on the balcony and singing, talking, and playing for the delight of the Haitian kids.  After several hours of entertainment yesterday, Anna Ray wanted to share a piece of her bubble gum with one of the little girls.  She brought the gum down to give to her and we all watched as the child took the gum and split the one piece between ten kids.  

The heat here finds us sweating at 9 in the morning, so the kids and I have very much enjoyed swimming twice daily in the ocean.  There are several little boys who join us to build sand castles and swim with Luc.  Yesterday Luc was observing the naked body of a Haitian boy and his own naked chest and remarked, "I'm really white aren't I?  And we don't carry things on our heads either."  

So, life is good.  I am doing my best to make some sense out of our dirt floor kitchen and how to keep clean without running water.  When I'm feeling sorry for myself and dreaming of air conditioning, I try to open my eyes and look around.  The poverty in Wozye is astounding. People are very very thin and have very very little.  So, my job, as always, is to attempt gratitude.  Monday C will start work in earnest on the goat project.  We will post again soon.  Much love from HAITI!!!