I had a golden glow, and not because of the sun...

I can't believe it's already been over a week since my last blog post. These days are flying by quickly. But honestly, I'm not too sad about that.

I haven't written too much in the last month. Here's the real low-down. The life of a missionary, or any humanitarian doing work like this I suppose, isn't as romantic as you may imagine it to be. Or I imagined it to be. Your days spent helping the downtrodden, sick, and poor. It seems like more time is spent overcoming the irritations and frustrations of working in a foreign country. Because when you live and work in a country that is foreign to you, things just happen.

I have been utterly useless the past 3-4 weeks. Among other things, I got jaundice. Who gets jaundice??? Well, babies do. I did. But when you are an adult...? I'm in a foreign country. Things just happen. One day, I was hanging out with some of the boys. For some odd reason, I took a look in the mirror. Odd reason because these days, there's absolutely no need to look in a mirror. I notice the outer whites of my eyes were yellow, so I asked Junior, "Do you see this? Are my eyes yellow?" His response, "Oui Mami Jamie. Jaune." Yes, yellow. So I looked it up, and jaundice appeared first, and the other major symptoms it listed fit me to a T. I wasn't too worried, until a made a comment about it on facebook. Jaundice itself isn't dangerous. Just inconvenient because it makes your skin itchy, and creepy because my eyes were yellow, though I did have a nice golden glow to my skin. But it means that something else is really wrong, and with your liver. So while I had my suspicions about what was going on and believed I was going to be fine, I felt like I was getting death threats. "Your liver is shutting down!" It didn't help that the family doctor wanted me to fly home pronto. Yikes.

Now, my skin no longer itches and I've gone back to the white girl in Haiti status. And except for a minor part of my eyes, they have cleared up. But I was knocked off my butt for a while, and so it's good to finally be feeling better.

This run in Haiti has been a bit rough for me, in many ways, yes. I've heard people tell me, and I've heard of people saying, that I shouldn't have to be living under these circumstances (no plumbing, being so sick here...). I actually get mad when I hear these comments. It would seem to me that some of the first posts I had written while here would deter those comments. Having no running water is...well...it's just different. Never in my life have I claimed to be entitled to have running water. And if you really know me, you'll know that I really don't care about that part too much. I am the girl who dared myself to go a week without showering while working at a camp - and succeeded. I am the girl who walked 75 miles through the desert for a week and took only one shower that entire time (I relied solely on baby wipes. I didn't even have a bucket bath). Maybe you didn't want to know this about me, but being dirty doesn't scare me. Especially when being clean only last for 10 minutes. Today I was driving past a tent city. There was a person bathing outside their tent, wearing only shorts. It was a woman. She was right next to the road. I'm grateful to have privacy. Running water, as it turns out, is not a necessity, and I am not entitled to it. And neither are you. *Note I said "running water" and not solely "water."

My health. I remember learning about missionaries traveling by boat to other countries. More of them than not would die on the journey there, and never even start what they had purposed to do. They knew what they were getting into. Whatever their aim, they risked their lives for it. Today we worry that experience "won't be smooth." If I risked my safety while here, I would be lectured. I'm not asking for a death sentence, but I didn't sign up to have a smooth year. You don't decide to live in a third world country for a year expecting things to go as planned. Things happen. Jaundice, weird fungi growths, muggings and threats. In my opinion, setting out to value human life, to add value to others' lives, is worth some discomfort. I wish we could be a more compassionate people and be willing to bear some discomfort to make other peoples' lives a little better. And I'm not even talking about people in third world countries, though certainly they have need more than anyone else perhaps, but I'm talking about the family across town in the ghetto and I'm talking about your neighbor. But, I suppose, if you really want that $400 new Apple gadget rather than spend that money so that a child can go to school, well, I guess you are entitled to it, right?

Happy Birthday Rosemanite!

This is Rosemanite. Today was her birthday. She turned 8. I find myself wondering if this is the first birthday she has ever celebrated.

Yesterday I took the kids in small groups to make cards for Rosemanite, and today we presented them to her, and sang Happy Birthday. At first, she showed little emotion, but as time went on, it was clear she was having a good time. As we taped the cards and pictures on the wall by her bed, I asked if she was happy. Her eyes opened wide and she gave me a big, "Oui!" I felt bad that I had no gifts for her, so I rummaged around my room for something for her. Every time a kid is in my room, they are constantly asking for things of mine, so I gathered a couple things, miraculously found some tissue paper to wrap them in, and she opened gifts that were for her. I feel immense pride in presenting things to the children that they can call their own. Perhaps it is an American mindset, but I can't fathom not having a single thing to call my own. These kids share everything, so as I see it, they are finally given something to call their own. Although, what is humble to watch is that though they love acquiring things, they are often quick to share whatever they have with others. I really hope that today, Rosemanite felt special and loved.

I think I shouted it out every ten minutes that it was her birthday, and busted out singing to her several times (which, if you know me, is a big deal. I don't sing in public). Of course the other kids were going to ask me when their birthday is. It was disheartening to me when Robert and Belo asked me. Not only did I not know off the top of my head when their birthday is, but I have no way of knowing at all when they were born. From what I've been told, Robert was found on the street and brought to us by a security guard. Recently, I sat down with Robert and learned some of his story. His father and mother had both died. He has a younger brother, but has no idea where he is (Robert is 7 or 8 I believe). He had been living on the streets. He can be a bit rougher than some of the other kids, though by that, I am simply saying he is a young boy. He needs to learn to knock when he comes in my room. Today he walked in at the most inopportune moment. He didn't care, but I did :-) But he has a heart of gold. He is a good boy who really has a desire to learn in school and make a better life for himself. Personally, I love him so much because he reminds me of my brother, the way he's always running around making funny noises, doing cartwheels and crazy jumps wanting people to watch him. I'm in the process of teaching him how to walk on his hands. If all else fails, he could become a great circus performer :-)