A week in Mombin Crochu (northeastern Haiti) -- Day 1

A girl and her goat in Mombin.

If you know much about Haiti, you've probably heard the unemployment statistic -- it varies somewhat depending on who's measuring it, but it's generally agreed to be around 80%.  (Meaning only 20% of people are formally employed.)  A friend of mine, Claudin, has been unable to find work -- not surprising, with those numbers. When he was my neighbor I would sometimes share my food with him, but he got married last year and moved farther away.  I really don't have the contacts to help him find a job.  I ask our wise director, Osse, if he can think of anything.  He tells me that some years ago Claudin taught a dance class for the kids in his hometown -- Mombin Crochu -- and they keep asking when he'll come back.  Osse says everyone loved the dance class -- and also that there isn't much entertainment for the kids in Mombin. (Mombin Crochu is several hours from Cap Haitien by bad roads. I've been there three times before, and we had significant vehicle troubles on two of the trips.) 

I need to go to Mombin anyway, since a lot of our CHE programs are in the surrounding villages and one of my tasks this summer is to gather stories from people who've been involved with CHE. Osse is more than willing to plan two trips in one:  I'll personally sponsor dance classes while traveling to surrounding villages with our volunteer trainers to gather stories for work.

Monday, July 15

We set out for Mombin on two motorcycles – I'm riding with Osse and Claudin and his wife Roselande are riding with Osse's son, Nono.  We stop in La Victoire, where Osse's sister lives.  

We sit on the front porch of Osse's sister's house.  Little kids pass by with empty jugs to collect water for their households.  They stop to smile at the strangers (that's us).

Osse tells us his sister has prepared “a little coffee” for us.   I am reminded of the Minnesotan phrase “a little lunch" as we enter the house:  in this picture you can see  spaghetti (breakfast food here in Haiti), bread, bananas, and -- oh, yes -- coffee!

From left to right:  Osse, his sister, Claudin, and Roselande.

Nono then leaves with Claudin and Roselande so they can start the dance class. Osse and I stay so that I can talk with some of the people in this town. They haven't started a full Community Health Evangelism (CHE) program but use a lot of the tools and want to tell me some stories of the positive changes they've seen.

It's only about a half an hour to Mombin from here. Unfortunately, just after we start out we see the dark clouds coming. The rain hits us when we're about 10 minutes away. We stop and I put on a poncho, Osse's covers his backpack with a sack. I'm praying quite a bit because these are dirt roads in the mountains, and I'm thinking this rain is making them slippery. I found out later that it is apparently not so bad while raining (except I suspect the driver can't see well). Osse says that it's really just after it stops raining that it becomes dangerously slippery. So I should be glad that it poured until we reached his house!

In the late afternoon I head down to see how Claudin's dance class is going. We are running a generator for the music, but there are no lights at all in the room. It's made even darker because most of the shutters are closed so the many bystanders can't see in so well– the kids will include this dance in a show they have in their community in August. In the evening the kids don't want to leave, they keep saying they're not tired!

Here's Claudin giving one of the kids some extra help.  The dots on the photo are due to dust -- out in the rural areas there is still dust everywhere despite lots of sweeping!

We walk back to Osse's house and I'm told “there's water in the shower,” meaning the bucket in the ceiling-less outdoor room is full. Thinking South Pacific– remember Mitzi Gaynor singing, “I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair"?  Makes me smile every day I bathe here.

Osse and his family moved to Cap Haitien a few years ago and Adelin, one of our trainers, lives in their house to take care of it. But there are somehow about 10 young guys here! It turns out that only a few of them stay overnight, but during the day they come to fix motorcycles and hang out with Nono. Most are related, but a few are just friends. Osse and his son stay in one room, Adelin and Osse's wife's younger brother stay in another, and two guys sleep on the floor in the main room. I'm in the middle room. As in many houses around the world, the walls don't reach up to the ceiling. This means that you can hear the slightest movement in the room next to you – and all the rooms are next to me – as if it were in your room. I wonder what married couples do.

Here's the window and wooden shutter in my room -- I'm told to lock both it and the bedroom door at night.  Feeling very Jane Austen.

Sin City

On my way to Las Vegas for a medical course today I decided that since I almost always travel alone, it's a good thing I self-entertain.  Here are some of my traveling observations:

• I discovered today that there are women in Minnesota who wear glittery jeans! (I've been told not to there, although they have been THE THING when I've beenin Arizona, Haiti, Argentina, and the Dominican Republic.) Turns out that Minnesotan women definitely prefer jeans with bling when they're going to Las Vegas.
• I've never been on a plane with this many tipsy people! Must be the destination. It's okay, though, because this way when I laugh out loud at my book (Cold Comfort Farm) I don't feel nearly so conspicuous.
• The drunk mother-daughter duo behind me are finally quiet, having falling asleep (very sad).  Now I overhear portions of my seat companions' conversation, “She always wears the same clothes: those sweatpants, d—m windpants – Packers. Nothing about her ever changes.”  I really want to know more.
• As we land I see signs for Cirque du Soleil, reminding me of the only other time I was in Las Vegas – I went to a medical conference and our alumni association had an evening reception and discounted tickets for the show “Ka.” Turns out a picture of me from that night was the only good one I had when it came time to print my missionary prayer cards– cracked me up every time I saw it, thinking of how it sounded to say that the photo on my prayer cards was taken at a bar in Vegas!
• On the ride to the hotel I learn from a billboard that Oprah calls David Copperfield, “The greatest illusionist of our time.” Impossible to see the word “illusionist” without hearing it said by that guy in Arrested Development. Turns out there's some stiff competition for David C, since Criss Angel is actually “the greatest illusionist in the world.”  If you can believe a billboard, that is.
• I learn from the TV in the cab (yup, there's a TV in the cab) that Bon Jovi and the Pet Shop Boys are actually alive and well (and playing in Las Vegas).

It's kind of a bummer to be here on my own, especially since the last time I was with here I was with my good friend Jenny and her family. Of course, there was disappointment on that trip, too – this Ocean's 11 fan found out that the fountains at the Bellagio aren't actually timed to great music (in the movie it's Debussy) but rather to kitschy pop songs.

There are many, many more things to be sad about here -- a traveling billboard advertises that they will "deliver girls right to your door, call now!"  I am reminded of what I read this morning in Matthew 11:  Jesus tells us to come to him, all of us who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and he will give us rest.  Even so, come, Lord Jesus, and be our shepherd.