Return to Hades..I mean, Haiti

It's been a month and a half since my last post. I have much to catch you up on. To give you a brief summary of the past month and a half, here are some facebook status highlights:

I think I just had the most awkward situation I've ever had in my life... October 12

It's raining. Which means I must take advantage and shower in it. Here's hoping no lizards find themselves flying out the pipe on my head! October 17

visited another orphanage that houses around 200 sick/abandoned children, and I'm feeling a little wrecked....Our kids at the home here are fortunate.... October 18

Out of the house 4 times in one week! That's a record! October 23

It makes me so happy at night to hear the kids shouting out the English they had learned in class that morning :-) October 25

spent the day in heaven. Also known as the beach. Pleasantly pooped :-) October 27

Honeymoon is paid for...too bad you can't have a honeymoon without a wedding.... October 28

I blame going from 200% to -100% on visiting the voodoo house... October 28

Spent 20 minutes on my walk to the orphanage convincing a guy why he doesn't really love me and shouldn't marry me. Keep in mind, these are the only 20 minutes I've ever talked to this guy... He still insisted I meet his mother tomorrow... Nov. 2

The boys got into my makeup. They were too pretty to get mad. Pink goes well on them :-) November 7

And today's:

Today I had my bum bitten by a child, I was de-skirted, and had a couple huge hogs stampede towards me on the street. I'm not sure if that makes for a good day or a bad day...

It's been an interesting month and a half. I'll slowly try to catch you up.

Some things have changed. Some haven't. I now have the swamp thing living in my bathtub, which still leaves me praying for rain to shower in. I still haven't developed a love for beans, and this time spent in Haiti has pretty much cemented the fact that I never will.

I don't go stir-crazy as much any more. And I finally feel a little productive.

On my way back to Haiti from Michigan, I had a layover in Miami. I noticed a girl waiting for the flight to Port-au-Prince that had also been on my flight from Detroit. White people on their way to Haiti are almost never going on vacation. They have some sort of humanitarian purpose, and so you feel you have the okay to step out of your American bubble and pry into the lives of others and find out why they are going. Well, maybe that's just me. But I can see it in their eyes, "There's a white girl going to Haiti. By herself. I wonder what she's doing." I just open up the conversation. It turns out this other white girl, Keyti, would be doing something similar to what I'm doing. She was also going by herself and would be there alone part of the time, so we both decided that this was the perfect opportunity to have a friend in Haiti. We exchanged information, and soon after we got to Haiti, we met up at another orphanage that is close to where I live. I have a better understanding of what people probably think about when I tell them I'm working at an orphanage. The orphanage we met at is a Missionaries of Charity orphanage, a Mother Teresa orphanage.

Finding that orphanage has added infinitely to my experience here, and I have gone back at least a couple times a week since. Now when I leave, they don't say good-bye. They say "A Bientot," see you soon.

I used to wonder if we were taking good enough care of our kids here. I mean, they ate rice and beans EVERY SINGLE DAY for lunch. Surely they deserve more than that? Visiting the sisters has made me realize how fortunate our kids are, and grateful that they are here instead of another orphanage, or on the streets. The other orphanage has anywhere from 120-200 young children. Children come and go, and most of them come because they will die otherwise. The bottom floor is reserved for the sickest. I almost didn't want to go down there. I was told that the orphanage has a worker there whose sole job is to make coffins for those children that die. They need being held too. Even if it looks like they are going to fall apart when you pick them up. The upstairs is composed of three main rooms with about 20 cribs in each, each crib holding a child, and some of them two. These children may not be about to die, but some of them still have IVs, and they are skin and bones. Literally. Arms, thighs, and bums just folds of skin hanging off the bones. I really was afraid to pick them up, afraid I would break them. But as soon as you do, they cling to you: wrap their arms around you and lay their head on your chest. And cry and hold their arms out to you when you put them down. It's feeding time when I go visit, so I help to feed the children between 10-20 months old, though I'm surprised I haven't been banned from feeding them. I'm pretty sure I have the record for messiest feedings. The women who work there are very gracious with me :-)

The first child I fed, Maniolita, is one of those skin-and-bones children. I fed her mashed potatoes that first day. After cleaning her up, I picked her up. Then, she vomited on me. A lot. And all over. She's had a place in my heart ever since. Every time I go back now, I always look for Maniolita. The sisters always point her out if I haven't found her, and let me feed her. She's 18-months old, and beautiful. She sucks on her two middle fingers non-stop. So much that they remain pink and wrinkly with skin coming off. If you're not fast enough with the spoon feeding her, she'll have her fingers in her mouth between spoonfuls. I've gotten smart and do the holding before she eats now :-)

After making rounds and make sure to spread out some Jamie lovin', I sit with my other favorite, Soinrilia. I noticed her the second time I went. When you walk in, you are bombarded by kids between the ages of about 3 and 9 who all want to be held, and all want attention. I noticed Soinrilia sitting on a bench against the wall, quietly. Just sitting, looking around, demanding nothing. I wanted this quiet, gentle-spirited girl to know that she's loved and that someone looks forward to seeing her. She doesn't say much, and I only get a little smile every now and then, but she smiles when she sees me.

It's not all lovey-dovey with the children. There are a few I fear. Those are the biters. A few little girls that I will literally move if they sit next to me because you never know when it's coming. Like today. I was feeding a child (which I was really excited about because it was my first really clean feeding!). Augustin came up behind me and was hugging my legs. All of a sudden, she's biting my butt cheek! I move, of course, and tell her no, and she sits down. I go back to feeding. Then I feel her pulling on my skirt. Kids do that. But then I feel the waist of my skirt under my butt. She de-skirted me! We gave the sisters a good laugh and Augustin was sent out of the room. You gotta watch out for those biters...

Visiting this orphanage has given fresh life to me being here. I'm positive that I benefit from it much more than the kids do. It's a 15-minute walk from my home, and it's the one place I can go by myself. It gets me out of the house when I need without having to rely on anyone else, so it gives me freedom. It's also been great for me because there are always other missionaries there from different organizations who are just visiting a week. While it's mostly the same conversation every time, it gives me an opportunity to speak with other Americans in my own language. It also gives me a sense of purpose that I'm able to be a constant visiting face for the kids. For Soinrilia. I'm not just here for a week on a mission trip. I keep going back, and I will for the remainder of my time here, because I genuinely look forward to seeing them.

I may be convinced to become Catholic just so I can adopt one of them one day...