I was home.
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| Hello Haiti! |
As we rode in the bus through the streets of Cape Haitien to our hotel, some people on the team were in shock. Shock at the poverty all around us, shock at the heat.
But for me, the shock was different. Haiti looked like China, sounded like China, SMELLED like China (those of you who have been in China know what I mean about the smell.)
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| Ok so it's like China with palm trees and the Caribbean ... you know what I mean |
I was home.
I discovered on this whirlwind, crazy trip to Haiti that I no longer belong in America. I felt more at peace in the first hour we were in Haiti than the entire month I had been in the states.
Before my trip to Haiti, I was pretty discouraged. Reverse culture-shock is real, y'all. Good grief is it real. And it's overwhelming some days. You know those people who kiss the ground when they get back to the states? I was not one of them.
It's hard to describe reverse culture-shock if you've never been through it. If someone you know has just come back from a month-year long service trip, please, please be gracious. They, like me, are probably not the same person they were when they left. As they re-adjust, take time to listen.
Ok, that was a random rabbit trail. Sorry for my soap-box moment. Back to Haiti.
The people of Haiti welcomed us with open arms. And the children ... oh the precious little Haitian babies! I didn't get to work with them much, but I cherished the moments I spent with them. My second night in Haiti, I found myself being mobbed and pulled all through the church by about 10-15 little ones. I felt like I was back in my hall with my Chinese babies. It brought tears to my eyes. We sang and we danced and we laughed. Being mobbed and dragged by the Haitian babies was one of the highlights of my trip.
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| Me getting dragged by Haitian babies |
Being stared at, laughed at, yelled at, mobbed-it was so normal to me. I know it freaked some people out, and I think a year ago it would've freaked me out too. But what I've learned is just to open yourself up. Laugh with them, let them touch you, let them pull your hair, let them teach your words in their language, let them LOVE you.
I had a little buddy while I was there-her name was Westalin (I have no clue if I'm spelling it right but that's how it sounded). She was maybe five or six, the age of my Chinese babies. Whenever she was at the church, she would come find me and drag me off to whatever the children were doing. She let me carry her around, she danced with me, held my hand, LOVED on me. Father knew I needed her-she helped so much to heal my broken heart.
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| Me and my little friend Westalin |
Father knew I needed to go to Haiti. He knew I needed to be back in a place where I could do something that mattered. I needed a break from life in America. What Haiti did was reinforce for me that Father wants me to go to the nations. As a doctor (more on the doctor stuff in the next post). Again, "Ruined for the ordinary."
They say "home is where the heart is." For me, home isn't in America. It's in China, it's in Haiti. Actually, it's not even in those places. Home is wherever Father wants me.
Where is your home? Where does He want you?
Go home.
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