I found this written in my journal about a year ago, after we had returned to Haiti for the start of the new year:

Bleach water in my hair,

sounds of roosters

hot, sticky.

That feeling of being on the frontier,

but in a cool, ceramic tile oasis

It is morning #1: back in Haiti.

And this, from my journal close to two years ago. Ted had encouraged me to be bold and to try to write down some poetry. I reflected on experiences with a neighborhood boy:

Instead of hope,

money.

Instead of a smile, or kinship

a "solution" offered.

I can't talk; I can't give you more.

Who am I? And what are we?

I guess, we are actually the same.

Tied by a line.

You are my brother; that is all.

We are family.

Kinship, explored.

Expounded.

Brought forth

into it's actual meaning.

So this is who we are, who I am.

Live, therefore.

Offer the smile,

Be brave.

Live in the light - whole,

not afraid.

When I first met Tanis, he asked me for a bike. Then he asked me to buy him a ball, a new phone, pay his school fees. I couldn't meet all of his needs, nor did I feel it was my place to do so. But he came by ever so often - knocked on the gate. And we would chat in the driveway. I know he has it rough. And I often struggled with what to do - what could I offer him? Besides a peanut butter sandwich, and some time? The question didn't always have to be as complicated as I made it to be. I think that simply chatting with him at times was the answer.

So, he came by and we would 'shoot the breeze.' The one neighbor we actually chatted with regularly over our first several months in Haiti.

From Nairobi to Haiti and Back

A reflection of mine from a few weeks back:

I feel very full at the moment, thinking how life has woven moments into memorable patterns over my adult life. About eight and a half years ago, I spent two formative months in Nairobi. (I know, “formative” is the label you put on something that you don’t know how to adequately describe; it communicates “it was complicated, but meant something beautiful.”) I spent a lot of this time on my own or in the company of a friend, Lisa's, dear daughter and her nanny. I traveled the city by matatu and walked for much of my daily commute. Lisa connected me with friends and ministries that I explored on my own over a two-month period. It was a time of introspection and processing for me.

View reflected in a mirror from our lodgings in Jacmel, Haiti (photo: Anna Vogt)

Ted and I have now lived in Haiti for two years, working with Mennonite Central Committee. In May, Ted and I spent two days in the beautiful seaside town of Jacmel, in Haiti’s south. We traveled there with two visiting MCC colleagues who wanted to explore more of Haitian geography after a full work week. We stayed at a charming bed and breakfast that we had heard about many times in the past 6 months from a friend in Port-au-Prince.

The bed and breakfast turned out to be more lovely than we could have imagined. Janet, the owner, put so much thought into the design and aesthetic of the space. She is also a wonderful chef, and presented us with a delicious breakfast spread both mornings.

Janet used to work with MCC in present day South Sudan. She also raised her kids in Haiti. Most recently, she worked with Save the Children in Sub-Saharan Africa. When I learned this, several things clicked at once. My good friend Lisa who hosted me in Nairobi also worked with Save the Children. I asked Janet, and it turns out she and Lisa are dear friends. I couldn’t believe it! Standing in Janet’s kitchen in a small town in southern Haiti, we make a connection that weaves together some very significant moments in my life.

With Janet at her beautiful Jacmel home and B&B

Back to today: I got an e-mail this morning from a colleague who heads an international organization here in Port-au-Prince; she is a friend who has collaborated with us on some significant projects since the start of our term with MCC. Apparently, she is in Nairobi at the moment, and she informed me via this e-mail that she “spent the morning walking through a forest in Nairobi” with Kristen and Wawa Chege.

Kristen and Wawa are the couple that held the advocacy position in Haiti before Ted and I started with MCC. They led our orientation in July 2014 when we were preparing to “take over” their roles. Wawa is Kenyan and they have lived in Nairobi with their two children since they left Haiti two years ago. I may be wrong, but if my hunch is right, our colleague would have been walking with them through the very arboretum that I frequented during my time in Nairobi, which is where Ted and I are pictured below:

My and Ted's reunion in Nairobi, after about 6 months apart
(December 2007)

So, through these few recent encounters we have traveled from Haiti to Nairobi and back again. Beautiful connections that wrap these parts of my life and the world together.

Mèsi.

GOAL!



Goalie Emerson Pierre positions himself to block an attempt by Justimé Anderson while defender Bosquet Williams tries to assist. MCC/Ted Oswald

What’s the best way to teach peace and nonviolence? For youth in Cité Soleil, one of Haiti’s most underdeveloped areas, the answer is soccer.

SAKALA, a partner of MCC’s for six years, has scored a goal with this concept. Gangs have broken Cité Soleil into competing turf and plunged the community into cyclical fighting. To the rest of Haiti, people from Cité Soleil’s 34 neighborhoods are stigmatized, dogged by assumptions of banditry and violence. SAKALA is working to change that perception and teach peace.

Coach Karls Jodler Fils-Aimé

On this humid Monday afternoon, two teams – the 13 and 15 year olds – come together for practice just as the sun is beginning to set. They are coached by Karls Jodler Fils-Aimé, a 28-year-old born in Cité Soleil who is equally passionate about soccer and SAKALA’s peacebuilding mission. He fell in love with the sport when he was twelve and took the goalkeeper position, eventually playing at SAKALA when the program established itself in 2006. He loves giving back to the kids on his teams and seeing the progress they make on and off the field.



SAKALA’s name is actually three words – sa ka la – which in Haitian Creole translate loosely to “this can be here.” The program is meant as a reference point, offering a different vision for what Cité Soleil can be. After ten years of existence, the SAKALA center is a safe space that boasts Haiti’s largest urban gardens, a computer lab, art classes, and space for a diverse sports program – the centerpiece of which is its soccer teams.

Soccer is a proven winner with the youth. Over 150 boys and girls who range from 9 to 24 years old participate in the program annually. It attracts kids from sections all over Cité Soleil and mixes players to break down harmful stereotypes about rival neighborhoods while teaching conflict resolution and peacemaking principles during practice and play. Players circle up every practice and before every match, and coaches remind them to treat their teammates and opponents well and remember that peace is the ultimate goal. The SAKALA teams are part of a division that holds matches all over Port-au-Prince and even in the countryside, and SAKALA’s players are community ambassadors who compete with groups from other disadvantaged communities as well as some of Haiti’s most elite private schools.

“When teams from outside Cité Soleil encounter us, they assume we’ll play dirty because of where we come from,” Coach Fils-Aimé shares, “but they are shocked to find we’re the most respectful players. Whether we win or lose, our players play fairly.”

 “Though we’ve yet to win a championship, we’ve been awarded the fair play cup,” an award for best sportsmanship, Karls offers proudly. For youth from Cité Soleil, and SAKALA, this is an achievement worth celebrating.

Both teams pose at the end of practice with Coach Fils-Aimé and Felder Jean Paul (at center), one of the members of SAKALA's leadership

This post was originally published on the MCC Haiti blog.

Portrait of Guatemala

After attending an MCC conference in Guatemala City the first week of March, we took a full week to explore the country ourselves. Yes, it has been nearly four months, and we haven't yet posted pictures. But there are reasons! Namely:

How do you attempt to capture a visit that was filled with near nonstop scenes of splashing color and beauty?

Clockwise from top: Three of our fellow MCCers from Colombia and Mexico; attractive door at La Casa del Mundo;
Flores; Lake Atitlan view; man with daughter from a Mayan community visit during our conference

...and where a typical meal burst with textures and presentation like this?

...where your hotel for 2 nights of your trip had this view?

It's a little tricky, to say the least :)

I would highly recommend the hotel we stayed at on Lake Atitlan, La Casa del Mundo. The lake itself is beautiful, tranquil. Literally, it exuded calm (can something do that?) Coming off of a week-long seminar with multiple languages and high energy (and exciting) conversations, the quietness of Lake Atitlan seemed to shout at me "shut up and relax!" 

Bless this place :)

Our first night we ate the community dinner in the hotel's dining room (they push all the tables together so people have to mingle), we sat across from two best friends who are graduates from UC Davis. One of them has a daughter living in Guatemala City (who was also there with them), doing an internship with International Justice Mission (IJM), an inspiring anti-human trafficking organization we know and love. So, we had the Davis connection; the Christian connection; and the 'love for justice' connection, hah! And here we all were perched above the cool, dark lake over a candlelight dinner in Guatemala.

The setting and architecture of Antigua charmed us

And yes these mermaids are lactating. Just had to see if you were
paying attention. Antigua.

We walked and walked, and ate and ate

(and climbed a volcano! Photos pending :)

My traipsing and touring shot. Antigua.

We even flew to Guatemala's northern jungle region for 2 nights, so that we could explore this cute town

Tuk tuk on the streets of Flores.

And traipse through these epic ruins

One of the imposing towers of Tikal. We climbed and trudged through this jungle for hours.

With the coati of course

and monkeys!

It was an incredible 7 days. I fully understand why Guatemala stands out as a jewel of a travel destination in Central America and why it intrigues so many. Have you been to Guatemala? If so, please tell us about your time!

Had to close with another shot. Lake Atitlan.

If you are interested, our full album of Guatemala photos is here.

Sierra Leone, remembering

Facebook reminded me. This month 8 years ago, I was leaving my 4-month stint in Sierra Leone, heading back to southern California. Honestly, it feels like it was WAY longer ago. That time was the end of my sojourn in Africa, but it felt like the start of many things. In Sierra Leone, I got to read and discuss challenging books on Christianity and poverty with awesome people; a year later I joined the MA program at Eastern University outside of Philly, where I got to - again - read, discuss books, and share life experiences with fascinating people; and now, I am two years into my term with MCC in Haiti, another opportunity that has allowed me to cross paths with thoughtful, service-oriented folks who come from all walks of life. I don't read as much while here, but life has provided great people with whom to process life and faith (Pub Church). So today I think of Sierra Leone, and my fellow sojourners there (some of whom are pictured below.)

These are the only pictures I could scrounge up from my laptop in Haiti, and my final blog entry from Freetown, dated June 12, 2008:

"It’s noisy outside"

It's noisy on the streets outside. But, then, it's always noisy on the streets of Freetown. Except for the cool, dark nights passing by the lonely cemetery in Murray Town. Or when you climb the windy hills and sit among the gray and green cotton trees in Wilberforce and Hill Cott. Old, clapboard houses and long stone walls splashed with bright, advertising colors.

But the noises aren't all bad. Mangoes for sale. Sheeptoe, guinea, red cherry. Oh my mouth is watering; I will miss that sweet, juicy taste available morning, noon and night. Cold water, peanut cakes, pineapple, biscuits. All fresh produce! Everything you need so easy to pick up on the side of the road, just picked from fields in the provinces.

The sound of hard-working individuals. Men balancing twenty foot boards on their heads, weaving in and out of taxi and pedestrian traffic, women toting baskets of coal, two, three, four... no, seven baskets high! So graceful as they take care not to fall through the cracks in the cement slab sidewalk, into the running sewage below.

The splatter of rain. It rained today. The sound muffles the blare of honking horns and vendors announcing their goods. Soft blankets of water left us scurrying for shelter: a wooden bench offered by a crew of firemen seeming anxious for distraction. They ushered us to the junction, securing a taxi with a "fine price" for our desired destination. So willing to help; always a kind smile on the streets here, in response to our attempted Krio greetings.

A walk through Kroo Bay leaves a trail of squealing kids, all crying "Aporto! Aporto!" the Temini word for white person. If not "Aporto!" then "white man! white man!" Won't be hearing that sound again for awhile...

I love this city. I love its character. It is a part of me now, and I will never forget this town, nor this beautiful continent.

Our last weeks were awesome. For our final week of tutoring we gathered all the kids in the staff house on Dillet Street and showed them 6 episodes of the BBC series "Planet Earth." The films are stunning and it was so fun to see the kids' eyes widen in amazement at the totally unbelievable animals and insects and landscapes. They often shouted "Eh!" in unison as they saw clips of how big and diverse and stunning this world is. It was so cool.

And then, last week, the Servant Team took our debriefing retreat "upcountry." We went to a National Park called Outamba-Kilimi, past Kamakwie village on the Guinea border. It took about 10 hours and 3 modes of transport to get us there. We were IN THE JUNGLE. With white monkeys on our campsite, hippopotami, big crazy bugs straight from outer-space, and yes, MAMBA snakes (we just saw one). But it was awesome. We got the real upcountry experience, had good time to reflect on our four months here, and came home with literally hundreds of bites on our legs. ;)

And last night, we said good-bye at Lighthouse. The kids gathered round and took pictures with us, prayed for us, and said "thank you" in various ways. It's so difficult saying good-bye. I didn't really know what to say, because I don't really know if I believe that I won't be seeing them again.

Now, I'm about to fly off! I must go, but I am so glad that my leaving won't mean I am cut off from Freetown. I have friends here now, and there's no way I can forget this place, because it has blessed me and, I hope, changed me!

An Advocacy Learning Tour

Last week, MCC Haiti hosted its third Advocacy Learning Tour in recent history. What is an Advocacy Learning Tour? It is an opportunity for representatives from MCC's advocacy offices (in Ottawa, New York, Washington DC) and the regional policy analyst to deepen their knowledge of Haitian culture and the political landscape.

This year, participants enjoyed the beauty of Haiti's countryside and met with local experts on issues ranging from food sovereignty, migration crises at the border, reforestation, and Haiti's ongoing electoral process. Here is a photographic tour of our week:

Downtown Port-au-Prince. Anna Vogt.

We took a brief tour of downtown Port-au-Prince on our first afternoon together. This was a perfect treat after we had spent a few hours learning about Haitian history and recent social movements in Haiti from the educator Nixon Boumba. The streets of Haiti are popping with color, as evidenced by the public bus above, and the downtown plaza of Champ Mars boasts several statues and monuments to Haiti's heroes. The towering grey structure above was built by former President Aristide to commemorate Haiti's bicentennial in 2004. Interestingly, the torch on top of the monument was never lit.

Meeting with CODDEMIR and Pedro of Centro Bono in Malpasse. Ted Oswald.

A Saturday trip took us to Haiti’s nearest border crossing with the Dominican Republic, Malpasse, where we met with two civil society groups who are engaged in monitoring the ongoing migration crisis between the two countries. CODDEMIR (left and fourth from right) partnered with MCC to distribute material aid to a camp along the border. Pedro Cano (center) of Centro Bono monitors Dominican migration policy and educates migrants on their fundamental rights. Over lunch, our group learned how we can effectively advocate for Dominicans and Haitian migrants who are suffering from unjust immigration policies.

Community tree nursery in Kristan. Anna Vogt.

No learning tour is complete without paying a visit to MCC’s countryside office in Dezam, where we have partnered with local communities for thirty years to implement a multi-faceted reforestation program. Our group was greeted with songs and then led to the outskirts of Dezam where we witnessed the success of one of many MCC-supported tree nurseries. The tree saplings above are just a handful of 35,000 saplings at this one nursery site. This month, nursery committee members will distribute all 35,000 trees in one morning, so that community members can replant them in their own gardens, improving their family’s income and food security for the future.

Buillon. Anna Vogt.

Every cross-cultural experience comes with new flavors and aromas. One highlight of a learning tour is the immersion in Haitian cuisine. Over the week we sampled Haitian meatballs, fried chicken with carrots and string beans, fresh fish, Haiti's famous squash soup, and pikliz. Fresh lime, papaya, grapefruit, and mango juices greeted us at lunchtimes. Above is the typical dinner dish buillon made by Lucilia, the cook at our Dezam office. Made with dumplings, potatoes, boiled plantains, optional beef, bell peppers and spices, it's a great way to unwind and top off a fulfilling day.

 

Kabay. Anna Vogt.

On a misty morning we hiked to the farming community of Kabay, where MCC has worked with 160 farmers to distribute seeds and develop personal gardens, bringing much needed life to this drought-affected area. Sixty-seven farmers came together for their regular meeting and for peanut seed distribution. We spent part of our week discussing the USDA’s recent decision to ship 500 metric tons of peanuts to Haiti for school feeding programs. National and international groups have since expressed concern about this shipment undermining Haiti's local peanut market. Seeing firsthand how this news unsettled the farmers in Kabay, who rely on peanuts as one of their most valuable crops, gave us fresh ideas on how we could advocate further on behalf of Haitian farmers.

Cheche Lavi - Seeking a Better Life in Haiti's Cities

Herby and Paul are Haitian migrants, but they have never crossed an international border. Their stories are ones of internal migration, the most common form worldwide. At a loss for opportunities in their hometowns, they left Haiti’s countryside to “cheche lavi” – seek a better life. Here are their stories. (Re-posted from MCC LACA blog.)

Paul Gregroire and Herby Sanon. Ted Oswald.

Herby Sanon is thriving in the Delmas 33 section of Port-au-Prince, Haiti’s bustling capital city. Yet it wasn’t always this way.

He was born in Saint-Louis de Sud, a small, seaside town in Haiti’s south. In his youth, his parents fished, farmed, and did domestic work to support Herby and his six siblings. His family’s resourcefulness afforded the opportunity to get a foundational education, but he ran into a ceiling: to fulfill his dreams of advancing to university, he had no choice but to move elsewhere.

Pooling together their meager resources, Herby’s parents wagered on sending their second-to-last son to school three hours away where an aunt agreed to house him. At the age of 19, Herby left for the ever-expanding metropolis of Port-au-Prince.

The beginning of Herby’s story is like millions of others, both in Haiti and around the world. Over the past few decades, decreasing agricultural production, unfavorable trade policies, poor quality education, and extreme poverty have created a rural exodus from the countryside into Haiti’s cities – Port-au-Prince being a chief destination.

In 1970, a mere 20 percent of Haiti’s population lived in cities, rising to 60 percent in 2013. In the period from 1982 to 2010, Port-au-Prince’s metropolitan area swelled from 800,000 people to 2.8 million – over one-quarter of the country’s 10.6 million population.

Rapid urbanization is not unique to Haiti, nor to the Latin American and Caribbean context. As of 2014, 54 percent of the world’s population lived in urban areas, up from 30 percent in 1950. North America, Latin America and the Caribbean are among the most urbanized regions in the world, with 82 and 80 percent living in cities, respectively.(source: UN World Urbanization Prospects Report)

An aerial view of Port-au-Prince. Over half of the city’s population has migrated from elsewhere in the country. U.S. Navy photo by Senior Chief Mass Communication Specialist Spike Call [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Port-au-Prince, like many large cities in the Global South, is ill-prepared for this kind of growth. Municipal infrastructure is non-existent in some neighborhoods. Port-au-Prince also lacks space. It is bound by the ocean and a mountain chain limiting the land available for expansion. Newcomers inevitably stay with family or seek low-rent houses built in areas prone natural disasters. This type of unregulated growth contributed to the destruction witnessed on January 12, 2010 when a 7.0 magnitude earthquake hit Port-au-Prince and killed more than 220,000 people, leveled 300,000 homes, and sent 1.5 million people into makeshift displaced-persons camps.

This is when Herby’s life changed radically.

“When I came to Port-au-Prince, it was not a good life for me,” Herby says. In the three years before the earthquake, Herby settled into a grinding daily routine: walk two hours to reach school by 8am; return home by 7pm; study late into the night; then crash from the fatigue. His aunt was just as busy, working long days at a factory.

When his house was damaged by the quake, Herby settled in Izmery Park, a nearby soccer field-turned tent encampment. He began to volunteer, managing a composting-waste sanitation program introduced by an international organization called SOIL. His volunteering eventually led to a job.

Educating communities on sanitation tapped into Herby’s passion to serve others and contribute to Haiti’s development. Over five years later, he manages SOIL’s composting-toilet social business and is able to send his family members weekly support, including enough to help his mother build a new home. He is a source of pride for both his communities – Delmas 33 and Saint-Louis de Sud – and the type of success story that works like a magnet to pull others to the capital.

But Herby’s success is not the norm. Most migrants in Port-au-Prince work hard for meager and sporadic earnings. Indeed, 70 percent of the national population earns less than the daily minimum wage of US$5.11.

Take Paul, for instance. Like Herby, Paul comes from a coastal town in southern Haiti. At the age of 11, he was sent to live with a cousin in Port-au-Prince and soon after began work as a mason.

Thirteen years later, he is still just getting by. “The only thing I like about Port-au-Prince is the work,’’ Paul says. In some seasons, Paul can work consistently for a few months at a time, but right now, he has gone two months without any leads. He relies on friends to call him when they learn of jobs, and his other four siblings who have also come to the city to make ends meet. Paul hasn’t re-created ‘’home’’ or established close community connections. He lives alone, and admits to keeping to himself most of the time, staying “off the streets’’ so as to not fall in with the wrong crowd.

Teenagers walk to school in Cap-Haïtien, Haiti’s second largest city in the north. Alex Proimos [CC License]

Despite the challenges faced in big cities, leaving is unrealistic. Paul admits he would return to Belle-Anse in an instant if there was stable work, but the fact city-dwellers find opportunities more often and earn 20 percent more than their rural counterparts for the same jobs anchors him in Port-au-Prince.

For Herby, it is much the same. Though he loves his job with SOIL and his new community in Delmas 33, he hopes to return home, but only as a place to retire and start a community enterprise once he has earned enough money, gotten married, and raised a family in the capital.

Haiti’s countryside remains at the heart of Haitian culture, tradition, and imagination. Society will continue to struggle with the cultural and familial disruptions that rural-to-urban migration creates as new waves of people like Herby and Paul leave their homes, hoping to make the elusive opportunities they seek a reality.

Prayer for Haiti

MCC Haiti Port-au-Prince staff: (from left) Joseph, Eclane, Fania (center), Muriel, Katharine, Rebecca with MCC consultant Josue (in back) hold our prayer for Haiti derived from a portion of the Lord's prayer.

In honor of Wednesday being Haitian Flag Day, our Tuesday morning staff devotional time was dedicated to praying for Haiti.

In following with the Lord’s Prayer, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, we explored together what that would look like in our own Haitian context.

I had been encouraged lately to look at the Lord’s Prayer and put it into my own words. In addition to repeating the interpreted words of Jesus that we find in Matthew 6 and Luke 11, why don’t we use Jesus' words as a guide, to help us explore what each phrase, each petition means for us this very today?

When we pray Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven, what do we mean? What would it look like for the Kingdom to come here in Haiti?

Doubtless our list could have been much longer, but we started our Prayer for Haiti at the close of our devotional time, as each staff member shared prayer for the Kingdom to come here in Haiti.

Our prayer (English below):

Chè Papa Dye,

Ede moun k ap fè sa ki byen nan peyi a pou yo pa dekouraje,
Fè tout moun ki ap fè peyi a mal vini a la repantans,
Mete lanmou nan kè tout moun ki trouve nan plas kote y ap pran desizyon pou peyi a,
Mete tout moun ansanm pou elimine tout divizyon ant moun, pou yon sèl ak lòt,
Padonen pep Ayisyen e ede nou fè tout sa ki bon, kòm piti Bondye sou la tè,
Kenbe moun an peyi a ki plis frajile e ba yo esperans,
Pou rekonsiliyasyon ant moun ak Bondye, moun ak moun, moun ak anvironman
Mete SHALOM W an Ayiti

Dear God,

Help those who are doing good in Haiti to not become discouraged,
Bring to repentance those who are doing Haiti ill,
Place love in the hearts of those who are in a position to make decisions for the country,
Bring people together, eliminating divisions in society, to make Haitians one,
Forgive the Haitian people and help us do that which is good as Your children,
Sustain those who are most vulnerable and give them hope,
Bring reconciliation between yourself and people, among people, and between people and their environment,
Bring your SHALOM to Haiti.

Amen.

Times of Tranzisyon*

I'd like to tell you a little bit about this picture. It was taken in February during the Carnival holiday weekend in a seaside town called Au Cayes on Haiti's south coast. Au Cayes has an iconic boardwalk in Gelée - where dozens of stalls offer delicious grilled seafood.

Popping colors, ocean breeze, and buttery fish and lobster - what's not to like? This was day 3 of our 5-day Haiti beach excursion, which included uncovering faraway beaches of Jeremie and dipping in the blue and sunset-purple waters of Port Salut, exploring caves, and swimming near cool waterfalls. But I digress...

My sharing this photo isn't really about the setting, or the auspicious weekend it recalls, but about the people it features: Kurt and Wilda Hildebrand (and yes that's me too; "hi, me!") Kurt and Wilda have been MCC Haiti's co-representatives since 2011, and Kurt's service with MCC Haiti goes back to 2006. This week, however, marks the end of their terms.

In the span of Kurt's 10-year and Wilda's 5-year service with MCC, my and Ted's year-and-9 month overlap with them could be seen as fairly brief and inconsequential. However, the truth remains that we are losing two key figures that have shaped so much of our service with MCC in Haiti thus far.

Kurt and Wilda have been our primary guides and interpreters of Haitian culture; they have provided much insight into community development and partner relationships in Haiti: endless stories, anecdotes, and good humor that have softened many-a-bewildering moment for us here. Their daughter, Akila, has been a joy to watch as she grows; she loves her world, and she loves to dance.

I'm starting to see that transition is a large part of serving with MCC. Service workers generally come in on a 3-year term. As people rarely start their terms at the same time, each year has the potential for some coming-and-going of team members. In our less-than-two years here, we have said good-bye to 3 service workers (after this week, 5), and two national staff. The frequency of the transitions, however, does not make them "easy," but I don't suppose transitions are ever supposed to be "easy."

Maybe transition is felt harder here because, as a service worker, your social networks are so much smaller than those you have back home. Or maybe it's just a good sign that you generally like the people you are working with. These experiences abroad are so formative, can be so challenging, that you hate to bid your fellow-journeyers farewell. 

Yet, Ted and I were part of a transition when we arrived here, and we will initiate another one when we leave. C'est la vie as Haitians would say. It's hard for me to imagine the numbers of international volunteers that some of our national staff have seen come-and-go over the years.

Yet Kurt's long service with MCC Haiti is a rarity in the development field, and the appreciation felt for he and Wilda's combined dedication and passion was duly expressed at a farewell party for them today (though, they did make us curb the sentimental speeches and offerings of gratitude.)

Great things come in transitions, but the need to acknowledge and grieve the loss is there all the same. 

A beautiful portrait done by our pastor, Corrigan, at MCC's request,
 as a parting gift to the Hildebrands.

* Looking at this post title, you probably think I made some goofy spelling errors, but this is actually Haitian Creole for "transition." Read it out loud - tranzisyon - the exact way it is spelled, and you will be speaking Haiti's native tongue! (Also, you are pretty close to speaking French for the same word.)

Palm Sunday

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, and this is how we celebrated.

We drove up to the Ackerman’s home, perched on a beautiful lookout over Port-au-Prince. So, our "Pub Church" has recently become mobile, and we are now "Pub-less." Since our pastor moved his business out of his previous business complex (which included the remains of an Irish Pub and also a courtyard for us to gather on Sunday mornings - hence our name "Pub church"), we have shifted between different meeting spots in peoples’ homes or in the beauty of nature.

At the Ackerman’s, we grabbed our mugs of coffee, and ingeniously situated the large palm fronds that we chopped from our front yard that morning and hauled up the mountain in the back of our pick-up. The service began.

Beautiful hymns, followed by an amazing, sort-of 3D flannel-graph display of Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem and re-telling of the story by Jodi herself.

We talked about the Sermon on the Mount; we talked about Jesus being the fulfillment of the Old Testament, a mission that was completed, was "finished" at the moment of his death on the cross. 

We discussed being the Salt – flavor - of the earth.

And then we dug in to some Indian food which was also delicious (just the right amount of salt), in celebration of a birthday.

So, palm fronds, birthdays, Sermon on the Mount: this completed our Palm Sunday celebrations.

Our pastor fighting with the giant palm branch we posted
behind his chair.

A forgotten epidemic

Images of Renette Viergélan (far right) and other cholera victims were put on display across from U.N. headquarters in New York during General Assembly meetings in October 2015. Photo credit: New Media Advocacy Project.

By Katharine Oswald (as posted on Third Way.)

Haiti is home to the world’s worst cholera epidemic today. The outbreak was instigated in 2010, unknowingly, by United Nations (U.N.) peacekeepers. Five years later, Haitians are still waiting for an adequate response to this disaster.

I sat beneath an almond tree in Poirée, a rice-planting village on the outskirts of St. Marc, in northwestern Haiti. Though 40 townspeople formed a tight circle around my makeshift interview station, my attention was focused on the slight woman seated across from me.

“Did you contract cholera?” I asked her.

“Yes.”

“Did anyone else in your family contract it?”

A pause. Her eyes darted from my own to the ground beneath us. Then Renette launched into her story: “My name is Renette Viergélan. I am 31 years old. In 2010, I was struck by cholera. While I was in the hospital, my baby also became sick with cholera. Before I regained consciousness, he had died.”

Renette has two surviving children, but she admitted her thoughts are ‘’consumed by the memory of [her] baby.’’ With her town’s continued reliance on river water and poor access to medical care, she is afraid she or her children will contract the disease again.

It was September 2015, and I was interviewing cholera victims and their families as part of the Face | Justice campaign, which commemorated the five-year anniversary of cholera’s infamous introduction to Haiti. The campaign showcased images and testimonies of those affected by cholera at the U.N. in New York, Port-au-Prince and Geneva.

The pain wrought by cholera in Haiti is evident in individual stories like Renette’s. Yet the scale of the devastation is not grasped until one confronts the numbers – cholera has killed 8,987 Haitians and infected over 762,000. Joseph, a young man in a neighboring village, shared bluntly, “Every family in my community has lost something…because of cholera.’’

Cholera was unknown in Haiti before 2010. It travelled here through the unlikeliest of sources. Nepalese troops with MINUSTAH, the U.N.’s peacekeeping mission in Haiti, were stationed at a base near Haiti’s main river, the Artibonite. Sewage from the base, contaminated with a particular strand of cholera endemic to Nepal, leaked into the river when it was negligently disposed of by a U.N. contractor.

The disease quickly spread to all corners of the country. After a gradual reduction in infection rates over the past three years, new cases are now on the rise. It appears that cholera is in Haiti to stay.

The U.N.’s role in creating this humanitarian disaster is now undeniable, yet it still has not accepted responsibility for its actions. Instead it has developed a sweeping Cholera Elimination Plan–which is only 18 percent funded after five years of fundraising efforts. As a key decision-maker within the U.N. system, the U.S. government should use its unique position to help fund the Plan and encourage the U.N. to publicly acknowledge its negligence.

With such a poor international response, and the Haitian government reticent to make demands of the U.N., victims’ hope for remedies have waned. However, the people we spoke with are clear: they want their pain to be acknowledged; they want better lives for their communities; they want international donors to live up to their humanitarian principles; and they want the U.N. to finally face justice.

To read more stories collected by the Face | Justice campaign, visit www.facejustice.com.