Just Like That Night

A couple of years ago I found this Haitian nativity, hewn from a piece of wood.  A man named Calem carved it. He signed it in pencil on the back.  Simple. Plain. Beautiful. Just like the night it all happened.

We All Have Stories

Here's a picture of the group that met in Haiti a few weeks ago to discuss the way forward for a new hospital for the island of La Gonave.  That's me, third from the left, the guy Air France must have thought wouldn't need clothes that week. They did give me that very nice "Air Team" T-shirt to wear for the week, though.

I’ve heard on the news the last few days where the volume of Christmas card mail the post office is seeing has been cut in half over just the past couple of years. Our own mailbox supports this research.  Not too many cards come now-a-days.  Not surprising, and we can’t blame folks, can we, in these Facebook, Skype, and Twitter days of ours. Not even to mention texting and email and blogs. It is quick and easy and free to send a personalized, even animated, online greeting to someone. Facebook reminds me when it’s your birthday, so I don’t forget. And, I must admit, I love getting dozens of “happy birthdays” from my Facebook family of friends, friends I never would have heard from otherwise.

What has been lost in the transition to cyber, however, (at least so far) is tradition. The tradition of sending hard copy Christmas cards is quickly disappearing. Grabbing a handful of Christmas cards out of the mailbox has gone the way of the milkman’s daily delivery of milk to the doorstep.

Use to be, only old people reminisced about the good old days. Nowadays you don’t have be old at all... the good old days were just ten years ago. (Ah, don’t you just remember way back in the days before YouTube?). Pretty soon, “the good old days” will be measured in months. (Don’t believe me?... iPad-3 comes out this February, less than a year since iPad 2 was released, and just two years after the very first iPad).

Some folks are digging in, resisting the social networking scene.  I resisted, too, for a short time  But I have decided to embrace it. Twitter and Facebook serve as today’s water cooler, where people hang out.  Blogspot is the campfire of our times, where our stories are told.  I guess it’s not a matter of Facebook vs. the water cooler, Blogspot vs. a campfire.  Because in the end, it’s about the community and telling our stories.

We all have stories, like me wearing the same clothes for a week.  Now that's a story.

A More Realistic Rendition

Saturday morning. It snowed last night. Christmas tree is lit.  I'm on my second mug of strong, black coffee (why, Haitian, of course). In front of me on the coffee table are two ethnic nativities (I have collected many over the years). One of them is first ethnic nativity I ever purchased. I found it in Haiti in the early 90's during one of my early trips.

It's interesting how inanimate objects invoke nostalgia.  Our tree is full of sentimental relics of Christmasses past.  My little Haitian nativity is such a relic, too.  It reminds me. It reminds me that Jesus is not mine, but ours. That He came not to be just my personal little American Jesus, held close for safekeeping.  He's Dede's Jesus. And Miss Vero's and Maitre Rousvel's Jesus too. And Jean Tinne's and Aldo's and Mme Sami's and Madame Felicien's and Merline's and Jean Rony's and Mickenson's and Jean Bena's. Jesus is Emmanuel. God with US, not God with just me. He is Emmanuel to the people living in the huts on the salt flats and up in the tiny mountain villages. His birth is celebrated not just in my cozy, comfortable American church, but in precious groups of worshipers all over the island of La Gonave, too.

Sometimes when I set out my Haitian nativity, with its coconut stable and crudely carved manger guests, I wonder if maybe it, in its stark simplicity, isn't a more realistic rendition of how it was.

Howdy Partner

Howdy Partner.

I have progress to report, along with a challenge for those interested in making a significant and immediate impact on the island.

The sad reality is that fewer than 10 percent of households on the island have access to a latrine. In one cluster of villages where there were over 400 homes, there was only one latrine. ONE. It's no wonder that diarrhea (typhoid fever, cholera, worms, hepatitis, among others) kills more kids here than any other disease.

The good news is that people here are getting it, and are responding en-mass to our message of how important latrines are to the health of their families and village, and to the deal we offer to them that if they dig their pit, we will provide them with the cement to build a commode base. In one village (~100 households) every home now has a latrine, and by the end of this month, another village will have 100 latrine use.  Word around here is that this statistic is unheard of in Haiti.

The exciting problem we have now, though, is that the message has spread much faster than we thought it ever would, and right this minute about 400 families (scattered across some 20 villages) have dug pits, hoping that we will extend the offer to them too.

What's exciting is that there is no question that this will translate immediately into fewer diarrhea-related illnesses and deaths. We already noticing decreased illnesses.

The challenge I'll throw out to all of you out there in blogland is this... can you help me buy the materials for these 400 latrines?  The cost is 20 bucks per latrine.

  Through the end of this year (just 4 weeks!) we will designate every gift coming through the paypal button on this blog to help us build latrines.  $20 - one family gets a latrine.  $100 - five families. $2000 will provide an ENTIRE VILLAGE with latrines.

Our long term goal, of course, is to see every one of the some 10,000 homes on the island to have a latrine. This statistic alone will send shock waves across Haiti, and I think we should do it.  Any partners?

I get home on Monday after a week of meetings here in Haiti. I am SO encouraged, so energized to continue the work I feel called to do.

Beauty Beneath

Friday starts a new series of meetings here in Haiti.  The first half of the week we gathered people together for input into how the new hospital on La Gonave should look and function. When the hospital opens in Spring, 2013 it will not only be a new day for the facility itself (structure, appearance). It will also be a new day for the way the hospital functions and operates on a day to day basis. Both levels of change are sorely needed and we are really excited to be moving toward that day.Tomorrow (Friday) starts a new two days of discussions, with new participants gathering... several organizations who have the mutual interest of helping bring transformation to the island.  We come from different angles and bring different things to the table, but we come to collaborate and join resources, skillsets, and energies to get the job done.

I was able to spend an hour or so snorkeling out in the coral reefs this afternoon. Exhiliarating. So much beauty just beneath the surface.

Just like La Gonave.