Kerry’s Story from Haiti

So this story is my attempt to show you Haiti, and still do my trip justice. Water’s Edge sent me to Haiti with 14 others on December 28, 2009. We first landed in Port-Au-Prince (PAP) and exited the airport to a whole new world. There were a hundred men outside, just staring at us with this cold, hardened look on their faces. Nobody was smiling. These people were at the airport hoping to make money for the day by carrying our bags or driving us wherever we needed to go. We found our translator and drove through the streets of PAP to get to our destination, the beautiful city of Jacmel. Trucks and SUVs were stuck in water, which was well over their tires, but it hadn’t rained in days. Trash was everywhere, most of which was on fire. People sat on the side of the roads desperate to sell whatever they could, but nobody had the money to buy anything, so they just sat there, waiting. I just kept asking myself, “How does a country get like this… and how can I help this dying nation?”

We arrived in Jacmel, which is where we spent the next 7 days. Every morning we would go to a local church and teach the kids bible stories which they would then reenact. We’d teach them songs in English, and they’d teach us songs in Creole. We did arts and crafts with them, and it was as if these children had never been given a crayon or a piece of construction paper. They treasured every single thing we gave them.  In America, children are accustomed to being held. In Haiti, holding a child was awkward because the children didn’t know how to be held. They kept their legs straight and didn’t know to put their arms around our necks. An older boy told us that once the children learned to walk, they were on their own; their parents didn’t pick them up anymore. After leaving the church, we’d spend our time at the soccer fields, where we held a tournament that lasted 6 days. For those of us that didn’t play soccer, this was the time we spent connecting with the teenagers of the city. We grew so close to these people that every single one of us was dreading Sunday, our last day in Jacmel.  Saying goodbye to the pastor of the church, to the children, and to everyone we met along the way, was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. My heart was connected to these people in such a foreign way. I couldn’t even pronounce most of their names correctly, but I loved each and every single one of them.

The next day we went back to PAP, to an orphanage that was located about 2 miles from the epicenter of the earthquake. This large building had no doors, no glass or rods in the windows, no bathroom, and no name. There were about 100 children with potbellies, sores covering their bodies from head to toe, ripped clothes, some of them had no pants on at all, and all of them looked so weak and tired that playing with them was not an option. My team and I had no idea what we were going to do with these children. We grabbed beads and pipe cleaners and made them little bracelets, then took soap and water and washed their feet like Jesus did to the disciples.

We all knew that they didn’t understand what the significance was of washing their feet, but we did it anyway. These children had lost their parents to AIDS, which meant that they could have had AIDS as well and having open sores on their bodies meant they had some type of infection, probably Staph. I just kept asking myself, “Are these children going to make it to see tomorrow? Probably. What about next year?” I honestly can’t tell you that answer. These children were so malnourished, it was no wonder they had no energy, no wonder why their bodies couldn’t fight off infections. No words were spoken on the ride home from the orphanage. My entire team was in shock. The 15 people that walked into that dark place were not the same 15 people that walked out. We ached for those children, we wanted to help those children, but most of all we wanted to save them. We were desperate to give them life, to give them hope.

The next day, we packed our stuff, said goodbye to our translator and driver, Thony and Allen, and flew back into America. The next few days were hard on all of us. Nobody told me that when I came back, I’d fall into a depression. Life didn’t look the same as it did before. To be quite honest, life still doesn’t look like it did before and I doubt it ever will. When I talked to my team members, it seemed like they were all struggling just as much as I was. The earthquake hit exactly a week after we left PAP, which made things even harder on us all. Unfortunately, our hotel was destroyed, and the church in Jacmel was severely damaged.  Luckily, all of our friends are okay- our translator and driver, the orphans, and the children and church members that we met in Jacmel. We couldn’t have asked for anything more.

This trip taught me more than I ever expected. I left being the average American girl, completely content with her life. I returned completely changed. God showed me how to love without words. I held dying child in our arms and felt the pain of injustice in my heart. My heart was shattered by complete strangers, by a foreign culture and a third world country.  “Poverty” and “pot-belly” took on whole new meanings. I saw what it was like to rely on God for one’s daily bread, or in the situation of the orphans, a weekly meal. I know what it’s like to say goodbye to someone and realize a week later, that they may not even be alive. I don’t know why God chose me, of all people, to go on this trip, or why, of all places, he’d send me to Haiti. It doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that he used this trip to open my eyes and to change my life. God sent me to Haiti to fix me.

When I was boarding the plane I looked out the window and asked God, “Is this it? Is this the last time I’ll ever be here?” I knew that there was so much more I wanted to do, so much more I had to do in this dying nation. I wanted to build relationships and actually be able to talk to people about God and His love. I got my answer soon enough. I know that God is calling me back to Haiti. I don’t know when and I don’t know for how long, but I know that I’m going back. I just wanted to thank you so much for reading this. Please keep Haiti in your prayers!

-Kerry