Live People.
Sometimes the most life-altering conversation can take place around the table.
This week we had the amazing opportunity to share dinner with a refugee family from the Congo. We discussed international perspective, explained various cultural norms, and engaged in his story. This individual previously spent his life in agonizing patience, waiting many years for he, his wife, and precious daughter Constance, to be admitted to join his mother and siblings in the unfamiliar and faraway land of Spokane, Washington.
His story was one of determination, gratefulness, heartiness, and steadfast love for his inspiring family.
One particular phrase stood out to me from all others: “Live people.”
When asked about his experience of transition from Tanzania to the United States, where the first time seeing his city on a map was at the UNHCR Refugee Camp, logging onto Google maps, Bizi had much to say. “I could go on all day about the differences and my experiences – I have an experience.”
In adding emphasis to his many stories, Bizi shared how, in every situation, he was engaged with people. His overwhelming kindness and acceptance and reverence were complimented by his love for relationships. In every coffee cup he’s learning to fill at Starbucks to every American who shows him hospitality, this young man would take the opportunity to learn from them and grow in mutual understanding.
“Live people – you know?”
Bizi’s story is just one, but his experience is what will continue to shape the hearts of others as they search for understanding and encouragement.
Fridtoj Nansen
I have a new role model.
Not the kind that’s on a dollar bill or where all the ‘good’ kids in Sunday School answer “Jesus.”
Fridtoj Nansen, the world famous Norwegian explorer, was the League of Nation’s (pre-United Nations) first High Commissioner for Refugees. During this time, in the early 1920’s, the world was faced with an international dilemma that brought all global attention. Due to the expansion of nation-states in Europe, common ‘ethnic cleansing’ policies, the Russian Civil War, and millions of stateless individuals created a multitude of individuals that were excluded from citizenship due to language, location, ethnicity or religious affiliation.
Nansen’s role on an international scale during a time of such chaos and disunity allowed for first steps of international collaboration. His institution of the Nansen passports and communication between neighboring countries allowed for the first international efforts in regards to the growing refugee pandemic. For the first time, countries were beginning to establish relationships based on the common goal and responsibility of upholding human rights.
Nansen’s contribution during this time was so evident that upon his death in 1930, the international response to displaced individuals was brought to a complete halt.
In the realm of international relations, it becomes necessary to reflect on the two defining elements of Paulo Freire’s revolutionary concept: reflection and action. In order to transform the world, the two must go hand in hand. Upon reflection of the mistreatment of humanity in Eastern Europe, Nansen recognized the need to do something. His reflection led him to believe the best possible solutions resulted in globalization, international communication, and upholding social justice.
According to Freire, language is never neutral – let us use our critical minds and reflect upon the indecencies of the world. Then let us act.
Let us bring another Nansen.
“Interest does not tie nations together; it sometimes separates them. But it is sympathy and understanding that unites.” ~Woodrow T Wilson
The Toilet
The Potty, the John, the Head, the Oval Office, the Thinking Chair, El Crapper, the Porcelain King, the Superbowl, the Drop Drain, the Can, the Rest Room, the Lou.
Imagine, for one moment that you have never seen the modern toilet. That shiny, white bowl filled with water is both terrifying and quite curious. Upon examining its contents, it could be quite useful in many ways; washing dishes, washing clothes, brushing teeth, drinking, bathing small children.
At first this might seem quite comical or even somewhat repulsive, considering the use of the modern toilet in American society.
This perspective, however, becomes important to recognize among resettled refugees in America. Without the knowledge of how to use daily household items (the toilet), simple technology (microwaves), and cultural customs (looking women in the eye), these individuals are forced to adapt to an unfamiliar environment where the toilet becomes the latest dishwasher.
This perspective is essential to uphold throughout our time in Romania; replacing my current Nine West flats with Middle Eastern-sewed moccasins and walk in their shoes.
Upon returning from Romania, we will be taking our experience back with us in practical application as we suggest furthering opportunities for growth among refugees living in Spokane, Washington through our partnership with Global Neighborhoods (http://www.global-neighborhood.org/). Through our experiences, we will be impacting not only the global community, but also our own back yard in the United States.
New Chapter, New City: Timisoara, Romania
Liberation theology holds a majority of its roots in the Latin American concept of acompañar. This concept of accompaniment has held true for many researchers in the social sciences, humanitarian relief efforts, religious organizations, and communications.
Darr suggests “half of ‘giving back’ is ‘being there’ (Darr, 2010:11).” This statement effectively constructs an understanding of accompaniment, where the suburbia upper/middle-class white ‘knight in shining armor’ is replaced by a simplistic individual, open and willing to collaboratively learn and grow. This mentality is not only effective within the realm of service/mission, but is necessary. To work together, side by side, with whom you are serving is essential for positive social change, as well as an opportunity for communal understanding of new cultures, people and worlds.
This principle of accompaniment is the focal point for my upcoming life chapter, where I will be participating in Gonzaga’s Leadership and Accompaniment course in Timisoara, Romania. I will spend the upcoming month of April partnering with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), accompanying refugees and developing knowledge of differing traditions and cultures, contributing to a more holistic understanding of the human family.
Throughout the upcoming weeks, I will be posting my experiences, thoughts, questions and concepts of understanding for you to partake and enjoy. I encourage you to grow along side me, embracing different cultures and challenging traditional thoughts.
Acompañar es para crecer.
The End
There are so many more experiences I could share with you. I could tell you about how we worked side by side with the local Haitian people to create better roads, how we spent an afternoon getting to know the Haitian youth, how we initiated necessary change in one of the corrupt orphanages.
But for now, here are a few.
Timing is everything.
Haiti was my place, my people, my experience, my blessing, my time.
What’s yours?
4. There is something to be said about Gentleness
Since my last entry was so long, I am going to try to sum up an experience (that ultimately I cannot describe in words) with very few words.
Our second to last day, we visited a Haiti orphanage that was being supported by the local church we had been serving all week.
After a full day of coloring, new hair bows and hair clips, lifting up and lifting down, Legos, painting nails, soccer, bouncy balls, and Smarties, we began to fall in love with every child at the orphanage.
The one child that stuck out to me the most was Dalfin. Every move she made, every hug and kiss she gave me, every toy she shared, she did with the most grace, gentleness and kindness.
For someone who has nothing, this was inspiring.
I can’t quite describe much more about how impacting this little girl was, about how she touched my heart and inspired me to be like her. I will never forget that little girl, her attitude about life, and her gentle touch.
3. The Best Remedy of the Human Heart: Love, Laughter, and Simplicity
How do you begin to describe one of the most impacting memories of your life?
Well I guess like this: it was hella hard.
First arriving at the foot of a Haitian mountain, you begin to question a lot of things… Like where am I going? Am I really going to put all my trust in this 9 year old Haitian boy? Does this back pack really have to be 30 pounds? Is there really going to be water at the top of that mountain? Was that really another mosquito bite to add the 37 that already layer my leg? Can I just stay at the base with the rest of the villagers?
At least, these were the things that ran through my mind as I looked up at the massive mountain, loaded with Cliff bars, water bottle, Camelbak, very (mind you, very) thin sleeping pad, one pair of “clean” clothes, and sunglasses.
As we headed up the mountain, I immediately became aware of several things. First of all, and probably most obvious of all, was the fact that we were no longer in the United States anymore. In fact, it was hard to believe we were still in Haiti. I felt like Dorothy, where my entire body was lifted and placed in this whole new world and culture – except instead of it being Oz, it was the middle of the jungle. It might as well have been Oz, aside from all the squawking creatures, small doses of Haitian villagers who I can guarantee you this was their first time seeing a white person (I felt kinda sorry for them, since their first impression of a white person was smelly, sweaty, disgusting, out of breathe, and not very smiley), the screaming of locus, the large amounts of “Lion King” trees, and the continuous Jungle Book sounds – this place was completely unfamiliar to me.
About fifteen minutes up the mountain, I began to breathe in air that was mostly water due to the humidity and my legs already began to ache. As I check behind me, I notice that one member of our group was having some trouble up the mountain, still sick from the day before. Followed closely behind her, however, was a small Haitian boy, about 10 (our guide up the mountain), who literally was a step behind her with every step. Every time she would sit down to take a break, a little Haitian boy would come up behind me, tugging at my shirt, going off in loud Creole and pointing back to Kate, saying (probably most literally), “Helloooo! Your friend is back there, you idiot! Wait up!”
As our journey up the mountain became slower and slower, and Kate became more and more sick, our doubts began to rise about actually making it up the mountain. All of a sudden, the little Haitian boy, without any hesitation, grabbed Kate’s 40(+) pound bag, and carried it up the mountain. Without hesitation, without knowing us, without communication, without expectation of anything in return.
As we journey up the mountain, with several breaks in between, we find ourselves solely dependent on this little 9 year old, now joined by his friend Blanco (due to his lighter skin and “blonde” hair). Several hours later, as we journey up steep cliffs, sometimes on all fours, passing through ‘back yards’ of mountain villagers (far and few in between), we finally reached the village church.
It was empty: wrong church, and (from what we could gather) wrong mountain.
As we sat there, without any means of communicating with the other, unable to explain to our Haitian ‘guides’ that this was indeed the wrong church, exhausted, Steve (our fearless leader from Oklahoma, and military veteran for over 25 years) stated the only obvious solution: “Well, down is our only option.”
Heading back down the mountain, we started laughing – really the only thing to do at this point, where you find yourself considering being lost in the Haitian jungle, now without water, and without being able to communicate.
After about 20 minutes down, Blanco starts talking in Creole again and points to another path – “What have we got to loose at this point?”
Thank you, Steve, our fearless leader.
Ten minutes later we are greeted by the other half of our group (the ones that didn’t go searching for us in the Haitian mountain), about a dozen Haitian villagers, and Pastor Guy (pronounced Gee).
From this point further, we were surrounded by laughter, yelling, clapping, cheering, singing, smiling, hugging, and holding hands. The joy, energy, and happiness of these Haitian villagers was the most unbelievably pure thing you could ever imagine.
After several games, dozens of tossing around a “ball” (filled with leaves, and surrounded by duck tape), and hundreds of pictures later, some of the village teenagers bring an old, tattered, deflated basketball.
Futbol.
The kids start screaming, cheering, and yelling, as Kody picks up one of the little Haitian boys and lifts him on his shoulders, all running towards the “field.”
The game, consisting of our five American boys and Haitian goalie versus the Haitian team was the most energetic, excited, and passionate game I have ever experienced.
It put Mexico’s futbol to shame.
With over 100 Haitian villager fans (we still have no idea where they all came from) ranging from 2 months to 60 years – it didn’t matter which team scored the goal, but were jumping up and down, screaming, chanting, clapping, yelling.
Not seeing any Haitian eat, we were presented with the most gourmet meal this jungle village could offer us, including a massive pot filled with rice and beans, and freshly caught fish from the mountain streams, grilled immediately after being caught. The hospitality of these people who had absolutely nothing was beyond admirable.
Their joy continued throughout the night, into their spiritual service, which was nothing like the church services in the United States. Every individual, young and old, were putting their heart and soul into every verse, every chorus, and every note. Within the pitch black darkness of the night, lit with only one candle, dozens of Haitians rose to their feet, belting out from their heart before their God.
It was a beautiful, powerful thing.
After spending the night with the Haitian people, living their simplistic life of sleeping on the hard earth and rinsing off in the local stream, (despite the lack of sleep) I began to appreciate this happy, simplistic life. If only for just two days.
Our time ended with these amazing people by allowing us to bless them with new flip flops, new shirts (most kids had tattered, holey, or unfitting clothes) and underwear.
The most precious thing I can remember is the vivid image of a little girl, clutching her new pairs of underwear with all her might, like they were her most prized possession.
I guarantee that we all learned something from that mountain. There was a piece of God up on that mountain – there was pure love, laughter and simplicity.
All found in the Haitian jungle.
2. The power of a Helping Hand
The physical labor of our service among these people started right away. Much of the physical service we did during our stay was within the confines of the local demolished church. Due to the lack of resources, the foundations of the church itself had fallen with the earthquake, so much so that the locals refused to even enter through its doors. The entire compound of the church was surrounded by a firm layer of garbage, boulders, rotting banana trees, debri, and the occasional tarantula (yes, a common “break” for our boys was tarantula hunting through the compound with the local Haitian, which involved finding the tarantula hole, pouring water down the hole, then digging feverishly until they find the massive hairy creature).
Because of the limited resources, with no construction equipment in sight (except, of course, locked away in the UN magnificently constructed compounds), the best way to tackle the huge mounds of boulders and rocks dumped in large piles around the church was the Haitian way: by hand.
Rock by rock, boulder by boulder, we created three or four long lines, where we passed each rock through the hands of each individual until we bordered the concrete walls of the compound with a nice layer. After several hours of throwing rocks, and needless to say many bruises, gashes, and blue toes later, we began to hand off each rock to the next person in the lines.
Shortly later, we were joined by several of the teenage Haitian boys that quickly joined our lines. Our spirits immediately lifted, and the noise of laughter, the repeating of English slang, and the thick accent of “OH MY GOSSSSSHH”ˆ were echoing above any music coming from the iHome. Geraldo and his Haitian buddies soon started the entire group in a round of singing through popular Disney songs and dancing as we passed each boulder.
What we come to find out?
Geraldo and his friends came out to hang out with us. No payment. No reward. Just company.
For hours, in the hot, humid, 100-degree sun, passing large rocks by hand, sweating profusely… all to just be with us?
After we discovered this, our group pondered over the idea of this very situation occurring in the United States. How many teenagers would stop and help? How many teenagers would stop and give up their afternoon of just having fun to be in the hot sun, doing work for free? How many teenagers would carry the energy and happiness for the group? How many teenagers wouldn’t even question helping someone out? Helping strangers? How many?
As Tim says in Mafia, “I’ll let that question linger…”
1. Critical thinking is Essential for Change
As an educated individual, having graduated both high school and now college, I have come to value the importance of critical thinking. I remember specifically one Business Professor that continuously stressed in his classes, not necessarily the importance of a “good” grade, but the importance of thinking critically – carefully looking at a situation from all angles, examining and challenging the possible outcomes.
In places with an uneducated, impoverished people, with a corrupt and selfish government, it becomes hard to then deduce how to best treat the situation.
An initial thought would be, coming from an extremely wealthy country with resources readily available, to give financially – drain funds to the people. Although this is a good initial thought, what immediately happens to the economy of these individuals? What happens when funds stop coming? These people then become dependent on the funds, resources, ect that are received.
The balance between financially enabling and simply trying to get a group back on their feet becomes quite grey and not as defined.
The work that has been prepared and planned down in Haiti was very impressive. As each member of our group went down, the funds raised not only paid for our meals and the physical labor in materials we were building, but also went towards hiring one Haitian worker daily. Because the percentage of unemployment reaches close to 90%, this immediately became extremely significant.
This element began to manifest itself in many ways throughout our trip. Along with our 14-member group, we were joined by a group of men from Oklahoma skilled in construction and building design. This group helped create several benches that were carried to the top of the mountain (to later be discussed) to fill the local community gathering place. They also designed several options for places to house future relief workers, among many other things at the local Haitian church and local orphanages. Their specific expertise was used perfectly and precisely as they were intended.
It was hard driving through the destruction of the capital of Haiti, watching the children playing in the malaria-infested waters, watching as buildings crumpled before your eyes, watch as hundreds of people dwelled together under tarps, cardboard, and dirty clothes which they called “home.” It was hard to look at something like that without being overwhelmed.
Ultimately it came to the fact that we were making a small impact that would be impacting to this people, helping to stimulate the economy, changing one person at a time, both Haitian and American.
Merci
Although my experience in Haiti lasted only 8 days, there are several truths and experiences (always with perfected timing) that I have learned and would furthermore like to share.
Please place yourself in my shoes as you take a look through the pictures I have posted. Many people say, “pictures speak 1,000 words.” This is not the case with these pictures. Only the experience of holding a Haitian orphan, of passing rocks with a local Haitian teenager, of giving a new pair of shoes to a Haitian villager, will be able to describe the love and power of these people and my experiences. But this is the best that Kodac can offer us.
I would like to first come forward and thank everyone for all the support I received, both financially and through all the hope, prayers, and love that was given to me, as I embarked on a short journey with life-long rewards. Not only would I like to thank you, but every Haitian orphan, every worker, every member of the staff, every smile from the Haitian village would like to thank you. I would not have been able to come out of this experience without you.
Adios Caitlin 