Camp 2015

Friday August 7, 2015

Camp Hope 2015 is finished today. I'm already back in Port-au-Prince after a long day of travel back from the Northwest (Passe Catabois). Camp was a success! This year Leah did one week in Cite Soleil by herself, then was joined by Megan, Caitlin, and I as we went up north to do 2 more weeks. (See her blog as well at www.camphopehaiti.blogspot.com). Much was the same as previous years, but each year the kids still flock to camp. It's during the summer so school is out and there is not much to do for the kids - so a time to be together, sing, do crafts, tell stories, and eat 2 meals are very positive things. We were saying this year - it shocks us that these kids still want to do camp every year!

This year we had 73 six to nine year olds the first week in Passe Catabois, then about 75 ten to thirteen year olds the second week. We somehow packed them into this tiny school room measuring probably 20 by 30 feet. It's amazing how your perspective of space differs in this place. Everything can be stretched to more than you ever thought possible. This year the theme was "Loving Each Other" so we threw in some legit Haitian skits to illustrate the points as well as The Good Samaritan. Skits are always the best - the kids really get into them and at certain points the room explodes with laughs and screams of glee (especially when Miss Leah plays the donkey). This time is also about supporting the young people and families in the community through employment. This year we had about 8 people working to facilitate the camp and even more helping with afternoon skill workshops. What we are able to pay them helps them eat and pay for the upcoming year of school. Everything was more expensive this year due to drought, scarcity of crops, and inflation, so any last minute donations would be greatly appreciated at www.makingroots.org!

As I sat on the bus for 7 hours yesterday looking out the window at this country, the cumulation of the scenery is sometimes overwhelming. Just thinking about how people have etched out a life in what at times, looks like a "barren wilderness". Extreme heat, drought, dust, and severely limited resources for homes and marketplaces. It's a completely different world and a constant struggle, especially in the Northwest. As we go there to facilitate camp, we live a part of that struggle for only a short snippet of time. Sometimes I feel like selfishly I need to go back there and participate in that struggle to reset my humanity meter or something. But then I hate it because living there is hard. America is so comfortable. We rarely get to the point of desperation of needing something essential for our survival such as water, food, or education. We get in the groove of easily taking care of ourselves and do not get to the point of needing some outside help from others or something even greater (which for me is Jesus, who I have experienced over and over is always somehow still there, no matter how shitty the situation).

As I go home, it's the struggle that bothers me and the inequality of that struggle. We took pictures of the kids to print out for them at camp and as I looked through them, I noticed one little girl with arms the size of real live toothpicks. She is so shy and is not noticed much in camp, but just her eyes looking back at me in that photo irks me. She is obviously malnourished, but still functioning and etching out a life here in the dust and drought with her family or whomever is taking care of her. 

The inequality of the struggle in the world is something I just will never understand. Some people have so much pain and trouble to just survive in life and others don't. I'm in the "don't" category, which saturates me with guilt at times. It's like some people travel through life in this crystal clear slippery water that's so easy to get through, while others have to trudge through this black muck of a swamp. It's easy to understand that when some opportunity comes to help them through the sludge, the offerers of that opportunity can get overwhelmed because so many people are eager to get out of the muck. It's tiring and it's not like resources are limitless. There is never enough to help it all. Never enough space in camp for every kids who wants to come, never enough money to send all the kids to school, never enough food, never enough rain for the land to sustain crops and livestock, and never enough water to live well. Oh Lord. This humanity is mine. I belong to them and they to me. My heart hurts.

I will never know what the answer is and when people try to explain the pain and suffering away, it always sounds so shallow and disheartening. They don't get it. But I don't get it either. All I know is that Jesus somehow gets it cuz he was here and experienced this mess, this misery, and this struggle. And he too wants justice and restoration of people, land, and this ugly system. He still wants to take that little girl from camp and hug her and give her a plate of food, everyday. He still wants me to continue even though I'm guilty of participation in this systemic greed. And he still hands us glimpses of joy to give us strength to get through (humor and laughs with others, a quiet morning and a sunrise, a black cup of coffee cuz we had enough water to make it that day, hearing children scream with glee, receiving unexpected gifts or love from others, seeing beauty in people's eyes or in this land, and solidarity with those experiencing the same struggle - Leah, Megan, Caitlin). 

All I know is that "there were scars before my scars" and that answer just has to be good enough for now as we wait for some future hope of complete restoration.

Almost Done

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Sitting here at the guesthouse in Port-au-Prince much in need of some zone-out time.  Not ready quite yet to face my world after spending a few weeks in this world...

I made my back to the city early this morning at 4 am where I left Leah to finish up the last 3 days of camp.  I left via moto in the pitch black dark.  The stars in the middle of nowhere Haiti at that time in the morning are something out of this world.  Also, the manner in which we travel via scooting along in the mud and through rivers on a motorcycle.  Also, the number of donkeys we had to "brake" for as women were making their way on foot with donkeys carrying their goods to sell in the city.  Sometimes this world cannot fully be explained through words.  There is a strength and genius to figure out how to survive here that I have not seen anywhere else.

I'm feeling optimistic about the happenings of this year.  65+ kids in camp for 3 weeks, all of which were so excited that many seek us out the week before to beg to be "on the list".  15-20 adults employed each week.  4 weeks of youth craft workshops in Cite Soleil coordinated.  2 weeks in Passe Catabois coordinated.  Sometimes numbers can just seem meaningless or empty but I truly believe there is just something to doing this year after year.  Although I have only been helping Leah pull this off for 4 years, this is her seventh consecutive year doing camp.  I am continually amazed at the planning, logistics, and coordination that occurs, especially in the reality that this is a place where almost nothing works on the first try.

Hopefully pictures to come soon!  Thanks to all who thought about us and supported us.  Continue to think and pray for Leah who is holding down the fort for 2 more days!

Pase Poul La!

Friday, August 1, 2014

I think it's safe to say week 2 of camp is done.  We just finished up our first week up here in Passe Catabois.  Somehow our numbers have grown this year as for the second week in a row we passed totals of 60 kids.  A grand total of 67 kids ages 6 to 9 in a schoolroom probably half too small.  After we finished up today, Leah and I just sat on the porch in silence with some glazed over eyes.  I think we are tired and I think we are getting older!

The kids seemed so docile and well-behaved after spending a week in Cite Soleil.  I mean, the first day we actually had Haitian kids raising their hands if they needed something!  We were like, what is going on here?!  However, as each day progressed, the kids got more comfortable aka. loud and in need of some constant reminders :)

This week, I started a health lesson game I like to call "Passe Poul La" (pass the chicken), which somehow turned into a big hit.  Since handwashing is the most important and attainable way to prevent illness for these kids, I decided to teach it every other day to reiterate the idea, especially for the little ones.  We continue to use glitter for germs and perform a skit that involves diarrhea germs and Miss Leah making the whole town (ok maybe just a few people) sick because she didn't wash her hands; the kids love it.  Then we played pass the chicken, where I whipped out my rubber chicken (thank you Amazon) and covered it with "diarrhea" germs, "cholera" germs, and "cold" germs.  We all sat in a circle and basically played hot potato with the chicken when the music started.  Whoever was holding the chicken when the music stopped had to come to the center and show the whole group how to wash their hands (since by this time everyone had the glitter all over their hands)!  Whenever the music stopped, the kids would just scream!!!  It definitely was a high of my entire week.

(The other high was when Curtis played Goliath in the story about little David killing the giant, Goliath.  Decked out in a construction paper- and duct-tape-made helmet and chest armor, he fell face forward on the ground after "David" hit him with a rock from his sling shot.  The kids were also screaming out of glee at that point.)

We are continuing to hold strong.  We have been lucky and blessed with good health this entire trip so far.  Chikungunya, a fever illness like Dengue, has run rampant through these parts.  Everyone is saying the fever has crushed them and their family, meaning it's a significant illness that takes them out for a few days to a week, then has lingering joint pain like arthritis for months in some cases.  For us, somehow, so far so good (knock on wood and fingers crossed).  Skin glistening with deet, mosquito nets, vitamin B, Ryna's long pants, and a lot of prayer from home are most likely our saving grace.

Summer Camp Cite Soleil 2014

 Friday July 25, 2014

Somehow the weeks of camp always seem to fly by even though time is slow the first few days as we settle in and get our barrings.  Summer Camp 2014 in Cite Soleil finished.  It was a success in the fact that we did it and somehow got it done.  We survived 65 kids ages 6 to 10 (ok, maybe more like 4 to 10) contained in a small church room that probably lived between 95 and 100 degrees the entire time (you know you're hot when your entire shirt soaks through with sweat).  We somehow ended the week with smiles on our faces as well as on a lot of kid's.  Sometimes it's chaotic as the volume level rings the ears to the max and kids are shouting every which way and are used to acting in ways that mimic pure survival.  And then sometimes they surprise you with gratitude and affection that seems to come from a place unknown.  The last day as we were wrapping things up, our Haitian facilitator had the kids yell, "thank you!" in unison to different adult workers.  That volume level may have tied for volume at a Seahawks game.  Then all of a sudden, 65 kids jumped up from their seats and swarmed Curtis aka. "Big Boy" (as he has become to be known this week).  Apparently the kids were challenged to see if they could together lift "Big Boy" and carry him.  They tried their hardest to lift him and I think succeeded at least internally.

Although times can be hard for me to be there even for one week (yeah, I'm a pansy) as far as patience goes; heat, thirst, and hunger tolerance goes; and emotionally (seeing another world apart from my own that highlights inequalities in resources and opportunities) goes, somehow succeeding in bringing some activities, enrichment, nourishment, and joy to the kids is satisfying.

This year seems to be a continuation of last year and the previous year.  Same activities, similar stories, and continuation of afternoon workshops with the older kids, a lot of the faces are the same.  Maybe that's a good sign.  Some sort of continuity to build upon within these communities that hopefully make them stronger or at least bring a few hours of joy.  Making roots, right?

Cite Soleil: Upstream Thoughts

Wednesday, July 23, 2014: Cite Soleil is a place all it's own.  Sometimes I struggle to describe what I see, especially because I know I don't see or know even a small fraction of what it holds.  Yesterday, we were walking down the block and I saw this: a group of 5 kids, maybe ages 4 to 6 years playing in the "canal", which is the dump/bathroom/sewer from all of Port-au-Prince that runs through Cite Soleil and ends in the sea.  The kids looked like they were treasure-hunting, digging through the refuse of Port-au-Prince.  Innocence.  Just play.  Passing the time.  They then climb up the cement wall of the canal and find their next source of entertainment, a broken down school bus parked on the side of the road.  They decide to climb up the sides of the bus and somehow all of them make it through the open windows into the inside of the bus.  The nurse in me has cringed an uncountable amount of times already.  There are so many things wrong with this picture.  The potential for illness, diarrhea, cholera, injury, tetanus, something worse...  I know fingers and all things of play somehow end up in their mouths.  I cringe again.

I think of interventions.  Someone could reprimand the children or teach them not to play in the canal or not to climb up the sides of a abandon bus.  But how backwards is that and how much of the bigger picture would be ignored?  What about poverty?  The situation that put these kids here or created a slum like this?  A slum that packs in people so they are almost living on top of each other and also doubles as the city dump?  What about not having enough money for shoes or activities to keep children busy so they are not on their own, entertaining themselves in the streets?  What about the fact there are no adults watching them because they are all busy trying to make a dollar to feed their families for the day?  What about not having any political infrastructure for garbage cleanup, aid for poor families, or affordable schooling to keep the children busy and build them up?  It's effed up for sure.

I read this this morning.  Isaiah 42:2-4: "He will bring justice to the nations.  He will not shout or raise his voice in public.  He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle.  He will bring justice to all who have been wronged.  He will not falter or lose heart until justice prevails throughout the earth."  May there yet be hope...

2014: We are off and running...

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Camp Hope 2014
We are off on another Haiti Summer Camp adventure.  The plan is to do camp in Cite Soleil week 1, set up afternoon youth workshops to run 4 weeks, run up to the northwest (Passe Catabois) via bus and start camp the next Monday to run 2 weeks.  Woah!  Get it!  This year Leah, Curtis, and I will be trying to hold down the fort, so to speak.  Let's be honest, it's mostly Leah and the rest of us are just the support crew.  And we are off and running...

Tale of a Cross-Country Journey: High and Low Style

The Tale of Ryna’s Cross-Country Journey all by her Lonesome: High and Low Style

-Tefa, my moto driver, showing up at 4:10 am even when we said 4:30 10 million times the day before (an early Haitian?!? What?)… High
- Leaving my homies, Leah and Megan, … Super Low
- An uneventful moto ride (besides Tefa stopping right before the bridge to Port-de-Paix to go pee) in the moon light and Tefa actually knowing where the bus station was… High
- Getting on the 6 am bus instead of 7 am because we got to the station so early, what?!... High
- Deciding to check my now somehow exceptionally heavy backpack to go on the roof of the bus instead of on my lap… High
- Sitting in the back corner seat so squished in between a line of 4 sweaty Haitian men and the window jabbing into my arm with every bump… Low
- Deciding to make a move for an open seat a few rows up despite the moving bus bounding over the rocky mountain road... High
- Realizing I sat next to a guy who hit on me the whole way (6 hours to Port-au-Prince) and told me I could lay on his lap after I told him the reason I wasn't talking much was because I was so sleepy... Low but also kind of funny
- Meeting a random friend on the bus who tapped me on the shoulder and said “Miss Ryna!” gave me a phone with another friend on the other end who wanted to talk to me. Hehehe…oh the randomness of Haiti… High
- The bus being freakin’ and unbearably hot 3 out of the 6 hours... Low
- Feeling a headache coming on in the bus (note to self: no coffee, not drinking water, and stifling heat are not a good combo)... Low
- Calling Bena from the guesthouse to pick me up and he answers excitedly with “Ryna! Ou rive!?” Hahahaha... High
- Bus ride in total only 6 hrs... High
- Feeling nauseous in the car to the guesthouse due to the headache that has now become a migraine. Vomiting my brains out as soon as I get in the door… Super Low
- Ibuprofen, drinking a gallon of water and a coke, a nap, and waking up to feeling good enough to eat a legit meal of pizza and salad (what?!)… Super High

All in a day