This is Haiti

As I settled into my window seat on the plane, I looked outside and saw the beautiful, green mountains in the distance. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest, my stomach was in knots and tears welled up in my eyes. The cold air conditioning fell from the vent above my head and I placed my forehead on the window. I wanted the Haitian heat on my skin as long as possible. As the plane began to move down the runway, tears fell down my cheek. My eyes followed the rolling mountains and captured every color from the houses in the Port au Prince streets. When I could no longer make out houses and details below, my head fell into my hands and I began to weep.

Was it possible for six weeks to go by that fast?! When would I be back in Haiti?

The night before, I contemplated losing my passport with one of my roommates. She even suggested flushing it down the toilet. She was joking, but I honestly wouldn't have minded being "stuck" in Haiti. That night I hardly slept. Not from excitement of going back to the States, but from dread of leaving the country that has captured my heart. The heartbreak of leaving children who I was supposed to be teaching, but taught me so much more. The sadness of not talking to Sophede every day in broken Creole. Missing the feeling of the breeze coming off the lake and the laughter from orphans at CAD. Or missing the heartfelt Creole worship at Eve's. I would even miss the fun and frustration of sharing one bathroom with six other girls. Most of all, I was going to miss waking up in a place I completely loved and surrounded by the people who had become family.

At the beginning of the summer we were strangers, but I left with an enlarged family and an enlarged heart. Every single intern had a connection or calling to the nation of Haiti, which is why we had such a great time living, serving and worshipping together. We shared testimonies, laughs, tears, MANY games of Uno and inside jokes.

One thing the girl interns did together was make a list of things we discovered throughout the summer and titled it, "This is Haiti." When most people think of Haiti, they think of extreme poverty, voodoo, starving children, the heat, shanty houses and corruption. That's not the Haiti we saw. This list consisted of funny things we saw, things we loved about Haiti and things that we did in Haiti that you wouldn't do in America.

• Take navy showers...but still run out of water in the mornings
• Wear bug spray to bed. And reapply multiple times a day (Nobody wanted to catch "the fever")
• Put toilet paper in a trash can, not the toilet
• Being called, and answering to, "blanc" because of the color of your skin
• React to getting a coke or a cookie as if it were treasure
• Take a risk and hold a naked baby. It's poop roulette!
• Cold showers aren't bad at the end of a hot day and lukewarm drinking water is just as refreshing as cold
• Singing Disney songs makes daily duties like washing the dishes and cooking more enjoyable
• Lose your table manners to have the extra hand on the table to swat bugs away
• Hand sanitizer is a lifesaver on the mission field
• A baby goat sounds like a screaming child in the mornings and late at night
• Kids playing with toys made from trash
• People and animals hanging off a tap tap
• Security guards with huge guns isn't alarming. Neither are men carrying machetes.
• Three people and a goat on a moto is acceptable and "safe"
• The hug from an orphan makes every other thought melt away
• No road rules=cars all over the road, constant honking and traffic when there shouldn't be

That's only a snippet of the list. Is that what you expected or not? Look past the images of extreme poverty and hopelessness and this is what you'll see: the joy of an orphan as you paint her nails, laughter from a child as you try to learn his language, dreams of becoming a nurse or a teacher. You'll see hope rising from the ashes. Children who are hungry to learn, people lining up to be baptized and people learning of and accepting Christ. Behind the dark eyes and skin is a lot of turmoil and sadness, but I choose to see hope. Haiti will rise up and prove to the world they aren't a lost cause and I believe this will happen through the world changers I loved and did life with for six weeks. 

I took this internship in Haiti because I selfishly wanted to change a nation and see if I was called to be there full-time. Returning to the States, those six weeks did more work in my life than I intended to do in Haiti. I learned more about myself and my faith in six weeks than I have in the last 25 years of life. God performed miracles in front of my eyes and children began to see how they were truly loved. Healings happened, I danced as a form of worship, sang a special in Creole in front of a church and my heart was shattered. The Holy Spirit covered Fond Parisien and me like the sun rays covered the mountains and lake at sunrise. The Lord revealed new things to me through the eyes of a child and taught me new meaning of being unashamed of my faith. I felt His presence in the wind every day as it whipped through my hair and gave me goosebumps in the Haitian heat. In those six weeks, God allowed me to see Haiti and the people as He sees them: not broken and hopeless, but as children of God, worthy to be loved and beautiful. I already saw Haiti and Haitians as God sees them, but my eyes and heart were opened wider. I am forever grateful for being able to live and serve in Haiti this summer and am anxious for when I can go back to where I left my heart.