Happy America Day

Fourth of July Barbeque!

There’s just something about being in a foreign country that gives that much more value to celebrating the Fourth of July.  Although we had marked the date in big orange crayon letters on Hannah’s hand-made-duct-tape wall calendar since the beginning of the calendar’s creation, we were a little bummed when our plans to celebrate with the only other Americans that we knew in Leogane fell through.  After returning from Sunday morning church service at the Hopital Ste. Croix church, we decided to take a beach trip to celebrate America together.  Little did we know, fate would have it that we were destined to celebrate the 4th of July with fellow Americans.

Hannah, donning her American Flag bandana, helps Genevieve to relieve Missy's hair of it's braids. Valou Beach, 4th of July.

Missy drove the van to a nearby beach in Leogane.  When we arrived at the gated entrance to the beach, we were informed that the beach was “broken.”  Skeptical, and curious as to how a beach can “break,” we followed the gate man’s suggestion to nearby Valou Beach.  There are a few things that beaches in Haiti can’t go without, and Valou Beach appeared to have them all…

1.  Coconuts

2.  Rhum

3.  Merengue/Bachata/Kompa/Haitian rap music blaring through speakers

4. Prestige (Haitian beer)

5.  Bathing suits for rent (?)

6. Football (as in the game that the rest of the world…other than the US…refers to as football)

7.  Lambi (conch)

One thing that Valou beach did not have very many of was blancs.  So when we walked up, the only other group of blancs present waved to us, and made their way over to speak with us.

Kyle, Kelsey, Krista, and Stephanie were four Americans who were living in tents at Valou Beach, volunteering with an orphanage run by two Haitian women, Jessi and Marlene.  Marlene lives mainly in the US, and Jessi lived in the US for many years before moving back to Gressier, Haiti, because she was not happy with the way that the children in the orphanage were being treated.  Marlene and Jessi had arranged for an “American BBQ” for their American guests and made sure to make enough food that they could invite us as well.  We were shocked by the incredibly hospitality that they showed to us, especially since we had only just met them.  And the BBQ was quite a feast!  We had BBQ chicken, potato salad, hot dogs, cake and even chocolate chip cookies!

Some of the children from the orphanage sat and ate with us as well.  The children were very well-behaved, and it was evident how much of a God-send that Jessi was to the children.  It was such an incredible experience to come together with other Americans on the fourth of July while in Haiti, but I couldn’t ignore the unspoken injustices of the situation.  Jessi did not complain about the difficulties associated with running the orphanage, but we gathered from piecing together different conversations that things were certainly not easy.  After the orphanage collapsed during the earthquake, Jessi took all of the children into her own home.  And to make matters more difficult, she had received numerous requests from other orphanages who had either lost their buildings or their administrators during the earthquake to take in more children.  She explained to me, “There’s not an option.  The children have nothing.  It’s not an option to turn them away.”

I can still see the face of one young boy who sat with us at the table in my mind.  This particular boy was taking music lessons from one of the blancs in their camp.  The teacher told Jessi to tell the boy that he could eat all that he wanted in Creole.  Jessi did so, and the boy graciously and quietly took a few bites of food without saying a word.  I spoke to the boy in Creole, asking his name, his age, and introducing myself to him.  He shyly answered my questions.  I was sitting next to Jessi, so when the man came over to Jessi and asked her what it would take for the boy to be brought into the orphanage, I heard the conversation.  Jessi quietly explained that nothing could be done.  The man, who did not even remember the boy’s name, insisted that he would do whatever needed to be done.  Jessi tried to explain that it was not so simple.  Although she gave the boy food, clothing, and looked after him, the boy’s guardians refused to sign some paper allowing the boy to officially be under her care.

The situation made me very aware of the fact that I am a foreigner here in Haiti, and that regardless of my intentions, I do not and cannot understand all of the complicating factors of life, and I cannot even begin to assume that I know what is best for my Haitian friends.

When we were getting ready to leave, the boy silently walked with us to our van.  As I turned to climb in the back seat, he asked me in Creole, “Do you have to go, now?”  It broke my heart to climb into the van, and I can still see his eyes, unmoving, watching us drive away.

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~ by dukejewels on July 19, 2010.