Stitching Together

I've been doing some reflecting on who I am and what my goals are. And, I...again and again...see myself as a bridge.

I have an economic mind, who understands some realities of the world...while, at the same time, my heart is the heart of a social worker, pouring out for the people. I see myself as a bridge between the intellectuals and the grassroot workers. I hope that throughout my life, in school, in work...that I will be able to connect people together who desire to help the poor...but have different ways of thinking.

While I was in Haiti, I was blown away with the creativity of the people and the inventiveness when situations arose.

I gave a soccerball to my friend, Awol, and he shared that ball with everyone. That soccerball saw many feet and many goals! But, due to rocky terrain and rough-play, the ball eventually ripped. It completely deflated, and I was completely bummed. This one ball gave so much enjoyment to so many people in the community! I was so disappointed that it was broked.

The next week, I saw something that lifted my spirits up again! Awol was re-stitching the soccerball. With a needle and thick thread, he was re-weaving the laces in the ball. This broken ball, that so many suburban kids would have just thrown-away, was being rebuilt by my Haitian friend.

While Awol fixed the ball, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment. We were by the beach. The air was warm, but there was a salty breeze coming in through the sugar cane plants. Awol was sitting on a pile of logs, later to be used for light during the dark nights. Four little boys were playing soccer with a homemade ball in their underwear on the dirt ground around us.

And, all the while, Awol was slowing weaving his worn, black fingers in and out of the soccerball, patiently attending to the needs of the ball. He quietly worked, knowing that the meticulous work would require much time and dedication.

Awol, now aware that I was studying his fingers, asked me to photograph him. I, excited to capture this moment on my camera, told him to just keep working. I took four pictures of him, while he continued to work away.


After I stood there for a while, I saw so much in common between myself and Awol. We both see potential in something that so many so easily throw away. So many people are quick to trash Haiti and are easily discouraged when something breaks. They think it would be easier to just buy a new ball, to just invest in a different country. But, like Awol, I will patiently use my resources, I will meticulously work at stitching together the beauty that I see in Haiti.

But, more than that...I hope that someone or something will capture my dedicated work in a timeless fashion. Like the photo of Awol mending the ball, I know that I can have my hard work and my visions captured...I want to make a lasting difference in one individual...in one country...in one neighborhood.

And, that is the connection I see between the first-world and the third-world. The connection is the thread. The connection is the people who see potential in something seen as unfixable.

Lyrics I'm Humming:
Into Marvelous Light I'm Running!

Changing Perceptions

Finally, this morning I felt a gentle peace for the first time since being back in the USA. I went to my Waco church home, Church Under the Bridge, where I was greeted by many warm faces and words saying I was missed. For the first time, I felt not like a foreigner here in America. For the first time, I could breathe a sigh of gladness to be here.

I have been really sad being back here in America. Sadness is the best word I can come up with to expain how I've been feeling.

Things that last Spring I would have laughed at or merely ignored make me cry...

*In my Economic Development class on Monday, the first day of school, I was fighting to hold back tears in the middle of the hour and thirty minute class. Our teacher was talking about the numbers and statistics of poverty in third-world countries...he was using humor to intrigue the Baylor students with matters of Economic Development...he was poking fun at the rural working poor in developing countries. And, frankly, the joke was funny and it was not mean-spirited. This teacher has such an obvious heart for helping poor countries.

However...I couldn't take it. I couldn't stand the students giggling behind me. I couldn't stand how methodical the class was sounding. These weren't numbers of illiterate women...these weren't numbers of deaths due to AIDS.

HE is Emilio. SHE is Linda. HE is Kingston. SHE is Bernadette. HE is Makendy.
They are people and some of them are my family.

I am way too sensitive...but, the sadness has just been overwhlming.

*On Thursday night at Common Grounds, a trendy college coffee bar, I was sitting outside on a really cute patio with one of my friends. We were talking about her life and her new, exciting semester ahead...

...A girl who worked at Common Grounds was outside cleaning up empty cups and straighening up the tables and chairs...One chair was kinda losing the armrest....and, she came up to my friend and I and said something I will never forget. She said..."Man...it's like a third-world country out here." I couldn't believe her comment. WHAT?! I didn't know what to say...I just kinda looked down...very uncomfortably. There is nothing at this hip, upper-middle-class coffee bar that reminds me of a third-world country. What a disgusting comment.

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This morning at church, I finally felt at home.
I finally felt like I was surrounded by others who saw the Kingdom of God with similar eyes.

Jimmy Dorrell, the pastor of the church and a man whom I admire soooo much, spoke today from James Chapter 2:1-13. He talked about the beauty of Jesus and how so many churches and Christians in America do not understand the simple concept of unity under Christ.

Christianity is revolutionary because it is counter-cultural.
Jesus Christ draws crowds because it is so apparant that he is different from popular culture.

In Christianity, we are all equal. White, black, brown, rich, poor, middle-class...We are all the same under God. Church Under the Bridge is such a beautiful place to be. The church is so diverse and we can stand united under Christ is a way so revolutionary to today's capitalistic culture.

Any type of segregation within the church rapes the Gospels of God's Word. Any type of segregation...racial, socio-economical, cultural, gender based...

Today at Church Under the Bridge I saw a man and his wife (Jimmy and Janet Dorrell) living out the Kingdom of God. They live what Jesus preaches. They broke away from the middle-class mentality into a new way of living. They dedicate their lives to bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth in Waco, Texas.

When I first went to Haiti, I was with Jimmy and Janet. They have both had such a huge impact on my perspectives on the world. I look up to them so much.

If only we can just share what we have.
Isn't that so easy to say? If God gives us, we need to share. We must share the things that are given to us, generously, by God.
But, that is so hard to do. We like our things, and in fact, many people would argue that they-themselves worked to achieve those things on their own. (Myself often included)
But, for Christians, that is robbing God of His glory.
And, I desire to give glory to God.
I want so bad for Him to smile when He looks at my life.
I want to experience Him.

Lyrics I'm Humming:
Viv Gloria Viv (Haitian worship song)

See Where My Feet Take Me

John's feet in the back of a pick-up truck behind our house in Leogane.

Do you know that you can mentally make your physical body sick? Mathilde told me about women in mental asylums who actually think they're pregnant when they're not...and, their stomachs expand as if they're pregnant. Their physical body responds to the mental power. Our minds are so strong.

Today, I was physically sick. But, I think it was (and is) because of my mind. My mind is just not feeling well. I ate one meal today (at Rudy's)...and I felt so gross eating it. I just wanted to throw it up the moment we left the restaurant. I couldn't eat anything else the rest of the night.

But, I was thinking.
I was thinking about Makendy. I was thinking about Emilio.
I was thinking about Kedjen. I was thinking about Mikayel.
I was thinking about my friends...my family.

I drank some water and then decided that I needed to go for a run. My eyes wanted to explode with tears and for some reason all I wanted to do was run.

So, I ran.

I ran so fast and I ran with blurry eyes from the wetness of my tears. I was running for every Haitian who can't run away. I was running for the prisoners who cannot leave. I was running for my friends who are stuck and have so many odds going against them.

In the middle of my run, I stopped and I layed down on the grass looking up at the baby blue sky. There were five vultures circling around me. I wondered if they thought I was dead. The sky looked so huge. It looked so free. And, as I was watching these birds fly...I reminded myself that I maybe saw five birds total in Haiti. What a beautiful thing to see birds in the sky. We are so lucky to have birds to daily remind us of the freedoms we have.

I just cried on the grass. I was crying for so many mixed reasons. Partly, I was tired. Partly, I was sick. But, mostly...I was crying for my friends who can't fly away.

My foot in the sea just north of Leogane.

We all have feet to walk on. We all have feet to run on. It's so weird to look at my feet and think about every place that my feet have touched. I was looking at my feet today, and I just started crying more when I thought about how many places these feet have been. There are so many people in the world who will never be able to go places with their feet. We all should be able to use our feet to experience new land. To experience new life. To experience reality. Why is it that my feet have been able to touch so many beautiful places and see so many wonderful grounds. They're just feet.

Tomorrow I start school at Baylor University. It's my senior year in college. I am so old. I am so young. I have learned so much. I have so much yet to learn.

I think what makes me sad too...people I who have the opportunity to run and learn new things...but don't.

Lyrics I'm Humming:
It's a Wonderful World

Signs of Misery

Two beautiful children.

Wow. I am having so many feelings right now. My amazing friend, Ally Wesley, is visiting me right now in West Des Moines. I haven't really been able to "debrief" with anyone constantly until this week. I've been able to share a few bits and pieces of what I experienced in Haiti...but, I haven't really been able to share everything. Some stuff is way to embarassing, some stuff is way to real, some stuff is way to miserable, some stuff just isn't interesting, some stuff doesn't make a "good two-minute story" But...with Ally, I've been able to talk about it all.

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And, looking back on the summer... I think the two things that are impossible to miss are the dirty money and the walking-dead dogs. These are two things that Haiti cannot hide.

Misery can somewhat be hidden...stories can be altered...smiles can be forced...but, physical things such as money and dogs are always present.

Dirty Money...

Now, that is an interesting concept. The money is so dirty that sometimes the bills feel like a liquid. They almost seem to disolve in your hand when you touch them.

The Haitian currency is the Haitian Dollar...and there are 5 gourdes in the dollar. All of the currency is in gourdes though...the Haitian Dollar doesn't really exist.

I've never been given money in the US that is even close to as dirty as some of the Haitian gourdes were. You often couldn't tell what the amount of the bill was because the ink was so worn out.

Disease and bacteria are for sure spread by the dirty money. Washing hands is not a common activity... and, the money is not considered dirty.

One time, a man wouldn't take my 200 gourde piece because there was a little tear in the upper corner. I couldn't believe it. I had to go to another man to change my money...He kindly helped me and gave me a "better" gourde.

I was shocked with the money. I was sadened by the money. What a common thing in America. What a common thing in Haiti. What a world of difference.

Walking-Dead Dogs...

I can't believe the dogs in Haiti. I can't believe how sick they are. The dogs all look the same. They are tan colored, pointy ears...same breed... The dogs all mate with each other, and a tough Creole dog is created.

At night the dogs fight. I can't believe the fighting of dogs at night. One kid explained the fighting to me as "making love..." I thought to myself..."more like gang rape." But, that is interesting too. The kids see "making love" in such a different fashion. Women are oppressed so much in Haiti. What I would call "gang rape," kids look at as normal... wow.

For mature readers: The male dogs have black testicals...Black as night. It is awful. And, the female dogs have black nipples. Black because of bacteria? Black because of disease? Black because of malnutrition? Yes. Yes. Yes.

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There was one dog...who the kids called "Puppy" which I was terrified of. He was so sick and was already dead. His eyes were red. His fur was gone. He was so dirty. I touched him one time at night accidentally... I immediately ran upstairs and washed both legs...no, I scrubbed both legs.

An elderly woman at the Catholic Church who loves Makendy. She was always so kind to him.

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These two things surprised me so much. I did not even think about what the money would look like. And, I thought the dogs were going to be bad...but, I wasn't expecting what I saw.

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It is still so awful to meet beautiful, kind people...to meet children (above picture)...to meet elderly (above picture)...to meet the sick...to meet the hurting... And, to see these wonderful people living in a place with so much misery.

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I am so embarassed of my home. I am embarassed of where I live. I am embarassed by my closet. I am embarassed by our paved streets. I thought that I would feel more guilt...but, to my surprise embarassment has been the most powerful emotion.

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I was in Kansas City last weekend with Kelly's (my brother) soccer team for a tournament. I had a really hard weekend. I couldn't stop thinking about Makendy and wishing that he had a father or a mother to cheer him on at a soccer game. The soccer team went to a buffet restaurant...I couldn't go. I can't stand buffet restaurants. Why do we need to "eat all we can eat?" As Ellen Degeneres says..."We don't need to eat all we can eat. We're not hibernating! The next night we're going to go back to the same restaurant and eat all-we-can-eat again!" Good point.

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God really challenged me in Haiti. He showed me some ugly sides to Haiti. He showed me more misery than I imagined. I felt like He was asking me, "How much do you really love this country, Megan?" He daily challenged my passion for Haiti. And, I had some hard days. I had some serious questions about my passion. But, I love Haiti. I love the ugliness. I love the misery. I love the beauty. I am more convinced than ever that Haiti is one of my passions. I think you really love someone when you see their faults, and you see their ugliness...and you can still say you love them. That's love.

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A little child in Destra exploring the beach.

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So, the signs of misery taught me a lot.

The misery in Haiti stretched me in ways I never thought possible.

And, my love of the signs of misery is a sign of my love for Haiti.

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Lyrics I'm Humming:

Wyclef Jean's If I Was President

Culture Shock

Culture Shock is a term I've always been famililiar with...however...there are many stages to having a culture shock, and I have experienced the best and the worst of each stage. Understanding the different stages has made me feel less crazy, and makes me realize that many people around the world go through what I'm going through.

Makendy Estimphil, a little orphan boy who lived with me in Leogane, had a crucial role in each stage of my culture shock. I think it is so important to have a person helping you adjust...and Makendy, without knowing it, was the one person who stuck through me with each stage. And, to him, I am forever grateful.

Stage One: Initial Euphoria

The first stage is the incubation stage. In this first stage, the new arrival may feel euphoric and be pleased by all of the new things encountered. This time is called the "honeymoon" stage, as everything encountered is new and exciting.


Stage Two: Culture Shock/ Rejection Phase

Afterwards, the second stage presents itself. A person may encounter some difficult times and crises in daily life. For example, communication difficulties may occur such as not being understood. In this stage, there may be feelings of discontent, impatience, anger, sadness, and feeling incompetence. This happens when a person is trying to adapt to a new culture that is very different from the culture of origin. Transition between the old methods and those of the new country is a difficult process and takes time to complete. During the transition, there can be strong feelings of dissatisfaction.
Stage 2
Problems! School, language, shopping — everything is difficult. Things that were simple back home require more effort in the new country. It seems hard to make friends, and at this point, foreign visitors may begin to believe that the local people are unfriendly. Homesickness begins, and along with it complaints about the new country. This is the stage we hear referred to as "culture shock."


Stage Three: Recovery / Regression Integration Stage.

The third stage is characterized by gaining some understanding of the new culture. A new feeling of pleasure and sense of humor may be experienced. One may start to feel a certain psychological balance. The new arrival may not feel as lost and starts to have a feeling of direction. The individual is more familiar with the environment and wants to belong. This initiates an evaluation of the old ways versus those of the new.

If you don't survive stage two successfully, you may find yourself moving into stage three: the "regression phase." The word "regression" means moving backward, and in this phase of culture shock, you spend much of your time speaking your own language, watching videos from your home country, eating food from home. You may also notice that you are moving around campus or around town with a group of students who speak your own language. You may spend most of this time complaining about the host country/culture.
Also in the regression phase, you may only remember the good things about your home country. Your homeland may suddenly seem marvelously wonderful; all the difficulties that you had there are forgotten and you may find yourself wondering why you ever left (hint: You left to learn English!). You may now only remember your home country as a wonderful place in which nothing ever went wrong for you. Of course, this is not true, but an illusion created by your culture shock 'disease.'

Stage 3
Recovery. The foreign visitor begins to use the language more fluently, so communication with locals becomes easier. Customs and traditions become clearer, and slowly the situation passes from impossible to hopeful. Minor misunderstandings which were stressful in stage 2 become manageable.

Stage Four: Stability / At-Ease-At-Last Phase Acceptance Stage

In the fourth stage, the person realizes that the new culture has good and bad things to offer. This stage can be one of double integration or triple integration depending on the number of cultures that the person has to process. This integration is accompanied by a more solid feeling of belonging. The person starts to define him/herself and establish goals for living.

Stage 4
Stability. Eventually foreign visitors begin to feel more at home in the new country. What they do not like about their new country no longer makes them so dissatisfied and unhappy. Life has settled down, and they are now able to find humor in the situations in which they find themselves.

If you survive the third stage successfully (or miss it completely) you will move into the fourth stage of culture shock called the "recovery phase" or the "at-ease-at-last phase." In this stage you become more comfortable with the language and you also feel more comfortable with the customs of the host country. You can now move around without a feeling of anxiety. You still have problems with some of the social cues and you may still not understand everything people say (especially idioms). However, you are now 90% adjusted to the new culture and you start to realize that no country is that much better than another - it is just different lifestyles and different ways to deal with the problems of life.
With this complete adjustment, you accept the food, drinks, habits and customs of the host country, and you may even find yourself preferring some things in the host country to things at home. You have now understood that there are different ways to live your life and that no way is really better than another, just different. Finally, you have become comfortable in the new place.

Stage Five: Re-entry Shock

The fifth stage is the stage that is called the "re-entry shock." This occurs when a return to the country of origin is made. One may find that things are no longer the same. For example, some of the newly acquired customs are not in use in the old culture.


http://edweb.sdsu.edu/people/CGuanipa/cultshok.htm#etapas