Feed the hungry, clothe the naked

I've acquired a new posse. Today our bonds grew deeper and stronger.

I walk the same dirt path almost daily to the little town a mile and half away. My typical walk includes several kids yelling and pointing at me because I am white. They are fascinated. They run to me barefoot and usually naked or missing several key pieces of clothing. They would also like a piece of candy or dollar and figure maybe they can squeeze one out of me. So I guess I'm a bit of a hopeful sign, because often times I do have candy. A few boys stick by me after the candy is gone, come to hold my hand and walk with me even when I don't have anything to give them. Last week I started carrying a frisbee with me on my walks and we play frisbee as we walk the path together. Today a teenage girl joined us. She knew my name and I vaguely remembered meeting her on this path before. She claimed a spot on my left side and left the little boys to share my right side. Our fingers locked together as we held hands and conversation flowed freely. She told me that she does manicures and pedicures and we planned that one day I will bring my laptop to her home and we can watch a movie together. She is happy-go-lucky, as thin as a rail, has a beautiful smile and is kind.

We now had 4 in our group, and with me this made 5. The kids are really good at sharing. They took over carrying my purse and carrying my frisbee. They would pass out candy to other kids and make sure each person had one piece. They shared the frisbee with the kids we walked by. They asked me where I was headed and when I told them, they said they would walk the whole way. I knew the walk, my visit to Michelet's home, and  then my walk home takes quite a lot of time. It shouldn't surprise me anymore, but they didn't even have to tell a parent or anyone where they were going. Only the oldest girl had sandals on. The others walked barefoot on the rocky road that I sometimes stumbled on even with my sandals sturdily guarding my feet. When we arrived to Michelet's house, the sight of his mother horrified me. I don't know if my words do justice to what I experienced today. Michelet's mom has been very sick the past few days. She is completely out of it- no speaking or eating. She lies lifeless. The only sign of life are her blinking eyes and rising chest as she breathes. I saw her like this two days ago and gave the dad money to bring her on a moto to a hospital. I'm not sure what happened, but today she was back home, but not any better.

I walked into their home as I always do. I usually look for Michelet first and scoop him into my arms to hold him.  The first sight upon entering the room was the mom lying on the mud floor of the hut, almost naked, spare her underwear. She was covered head to toe in dirt and she had clearly soiled herself. She was all alone in the room. Her mouth was full of dirt and mosquitoes were flying around her eyes and making their way into her open mouth. I couldn't believe she was lying here alone when she lives with so many sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews and her mother-in-law. Why wasn't anyone helping her? They family explained that she would not stay in bed that she had already been bathed twice that day.  I asked for the gloves I had brought them a few days ago. I put them on and my new teenage friend put on a pair too. I said we needed to give Michelet's mom another bath. She was filthy and deserved more respect then this. It was not a pleasant experience. Her body was dead weight and we had to pick up every pound on our own to move her body. We scrubbed and cleansed. Her 70 something year-old mother in law helped, but the rest of the crowd just stood and watched. For the sake of dignity I asked that if they were not helping that they would not stand and stare, but my pleas made no difference.

Michelet's mom screamed, then broke into a hysterical laugh. Not the joyful kind of laugh, but the terrifying, evil type of laugh. There was dirt in her mouth that seeped through her missing teeth. I hoped I wasn't exposing the kids to something more than they could handle. The neighbors and kids that she lives with laughed at her and mocked her as she howled and cackled. I told the kids I came with not to laugh and they listened and continued helping me. I asked the others to stop laughing. That if they were sick like this, they would want people to stop laughing and to help them instead. It made me sad about the Haitian culture. We dried her body and put on clean underwear and a clean dress, laid out a new sheet on the floor and placed her head on a pillow. I left them with a plate of food and instructed the grandma to feed the smallest kids the meat. I had only eaten half of my lunch  and skipped out on eating meat so that I could save the rest of my food for them. Funny how in the US, we were all raised hearing the cliche "what about the starving kids in Africa?" when we wasted food. Now it's so much more practical. Every time I eat less or waste less, it means I can give more to one of the hungry kids or families that lives right outside my gates. Imagine that.

We walked back the same way we started the afternoon- hand in hand and taking breaks along the way to throw the frisbee or pass out more candy. The boys were trying to teach me a song in Kreyol. The kids had given their whole afternoon to helping a family they didn't know, to holding my hand and to supporting me as I acted on a conviction I had in my heart to help a sick person. I am so proud of my friends :)

My friend Kervens, who accompanies me on my walks :)

Learning hungry

Recently I've been learning more about hunger. It was first stimulated by reading Kisses From Katie, then further stimulated by my day of fasting. I realized how incredibly uncomfortable it is to be hungry. Not the type of hunger that most Americans relate to- that hunger you feel when you've waited an hour or two longer than you would've liked to for dinner, or perhaps the hunger you feel when you skip a meal. The hunger I'm learning about is the deep, uncomfortable, sickening, tiring hunger. The type that keeps you awake at night, or makes the little kids collapse in the road on the way walking to school. The hunger that makes children binge and then vomit when they finally have a chance to eat after several days of having no food. This is the hunger  that is rampant in Haiti. This is the hunger I am trying to learn more about. And this too, is the hunger I am trying to get a taste of- that I might be just a little more compassionate, concerned, and raise a voice for the people that deal with this battle of hunger every day of their life.

I wish I could scream it louder. It frustrates and angers me that people don't know this hunger. I wish I could take away their food and money and have them experience a day without food to know what it is like. I wish that they would see the little kids that look years younger than their age, with skinny limbs and hair discolored and falling out, and then decide if they would like to get a little more involved in caring for the hungry. I guess what frustrates me the most is myself, because for the last 5 months that I have lived here, I have turned my back on these hungry people, deciding that at the time I was here to do something else. I was here to help at the hospital and I was doing my part in Haiti. I wanted to control my resources and efforts, but my eyes are finally opening and I see that isn't what following Jesus calls for. I guess I figure if I was able to somehow ignore it while living surrounded by it, there must be many others ignoring it when they can't see any signs of it from the comfort of their own home.

I don't know how to fix the problem, and I am sure open to hearing ideas. The greatest thing that I would like to do for the Haitians would be to provide them with more jobs so that they can work their way out of poverty and have the pride of making a future for their families. I'm not a businessman and have no experience in creating jobs, starting organizations... I wouldn't even know how to teach women or men simple crafts or projects to do to make money- because I don't have those artistic gifts either. What I do have is compassion. I love holding people, cleaning them up, bandaging their wounds, spending time with them, talking to them,playing with kids, feeding them, giving them small gifts to brighten their day.. so I guess in the mean time while I brainstorm on a way to help Haitians help themselves, I guess I'll just work on loving people I meet in the villages each day. It's what gives me joy, gives me a new 'best day of my life', new friends, and new inspiration.