More community stories: from Dèyè Gad, Venbal, and Lagwamit

The ministry tools of Community Health Evangelism (CHE) encourage people not only to come to a living faith in Jesus, but also to work out their faith on a practical level.  Just like in the United States, in Haiti it is challenging to walk as Jesus walked, to love our neighbors and give of our time and our efforts to bless them, to be people of peace and reconciliation in our communities. 

Unlike in the United States, a majority of people in Haiti struggle to meet their everyday, basic needs (in large part because of policies that keep the U.S. and other countries rich -- but we can talk about systemic injustice another time).  Many people walk long distances every day to get water for their household.  They do not have consistent water purification systems to remove the cholera and E. coli from the water.  They do not have latrines.  Our volunteers teach some very simple methods that help with these daily needs, including teaching about the Tippytap -- a simple system that allows people to wash their hands using a minimal amount of water (remember, they spent a lot of effort to get that water) and also be able to wash their hands without having to call another person over to pour the water for them.  We also teach gardening techniques and help people find seeds to help with the daily challenge of feeding a family in a very food-insecure environment.

Here are some more stories from three communities in northeastern Haiti: Venbal, Lagwamit, and Dèyè Gad.

Edouard André, committee member in Venbal

I haven't been with CHE long but the little bit that I've been involved with has really been good for me, both physically and spiritually. When they talk about washing hands after we leave the latrine, not walking barefoot. I'm not perfect at it but I'm trying. Also with trash cans, not leaving trash on the ground, raised cooking fires so that children don't get burned.

We also really have seen resolution of some problems in the neighborhood, we have started to talk together.

(c) copyright Edouard André. Used with author's permission.

Philius Fils-aimé, community health evangelist in Lagwamit

We did a survey – there were people that didn't raise up their cooking fires, but I left my house to help them to do so. We also learned how to make Tippytaps, something we'd never seen before. It doesn't cost any money, it's something you can do for free. I really applaud CHE for this.

A lot of people now live in peace because they participate in a savings program in CHE and can get advances from that. . .

On Sundays before going to church I visit five to ten houses.

There are some people that are interested in starting vegetable gardens when they see how nice my garden is.

(c) copyright Philius Fils-Aimé. Used with author's permission.

Cheristen Renellus, committee member in Dèyè Gad

I was kind of lazy – I didn't do anything at home all day. I didn't dig a hole for a toilFrançois Jeanet. But the trainers explained all of this and really set me in a good direction. I see that I've become a different person. And I want to keep moving forward so that I can change completely.

The trainers come and pray with us. We used to have division among us but now there is peace.

I have a lot of children at home – eight kids plus my wife and me makes ten. Almost everything is completely changed: we have a Tippytap, we have a raised cooking stove.

I go to church, and now I have the skills to change my life so that I am stronger and live in God's presence.

(c) copyright Cheristen Renellus. Used with author's permission.

Pierre Jacsen, vice-president of the Dèyè Gad CHE committee

Those of us in our community, we really weren't living well in a physical sense.  Those of us on the committee wanted to choose our worst problem.  We decided to work on the problems of dish racks and latrines.  We started with latrines.  One of our neighbors, he had a lot of children.  He never dug a hole for a latrine, we saw him go to the bathroom a few inches from his house.  We wanted to help him get out of that situation.  We chose a CHE [community health evangelist] to go to his house, but the man wouldn't let him talk to him.  After two or three different trips the CHE made, some of us committee members went secretly to see how the work was going.  We saw that he had started to dig a hole!

People were putting their dishes on the ground and all sorts of animals, dogs would walk over them.  We brought people information, we explained to them how to build dish racks.


(c) copyright Pierre Jacsen. Used with author's permission.

Life is Messy

Last night I was called to the hospital to assist a C-section. I haven't been first assist in a surgery in over 10 years. It was fun – surgery is fascinating, from the organization and orchestration of it all to the privilege of seeing the inner workings of the human body. It was also challenging – I didn't always know how to best help the surgeon and I didn't have all the moves down (my non-dominant left hand had partially forgotten how to unclamp forceps, I wasn't always sure where to suction, etc.). The surgeon was one of my family physician co-workers, and he was nice about everything. He and I also discussed a few patients I've had recently that were challenging for me. I'm in my 40s now, so it's much easier to accept imperfection in myself – but in this profession it can be a head game trying not to perseverate over shortcomings.

I’m so far
away from my home
all out on my own.
Hang my tired eyes
on a clothesline in the sky. . .
Strong and stable
I’m capable
and my life
is still and yet haunted.

Those are lyrics from a song by Joy Kills Sorrow, a band I first heard today. Yup – “I'm capable . . . and yet.” And, “far away from my home”?   No kidding – for the past 17 years I've moved to a different state or country every one to three years. I also have "tired eyes" today – I've noticed that head colds require lots more sleep and coffee than they used to, one aspect of getting older that I don't appreciate. :-)

Except for one move back to St. Paul (where'd I'd lived for eight years just prior to all this craziness), all of my moves have involved making new friends and finding new communities. During these years of moving I have found great joy in following Jesus. My relationship with and understanding of Jesus have changed over the years, and I suspect will continue to do so.  Blogger Benjamin L.Corey posted today about some things that have been helpful to him as he left fundamentalism – which for him was a mental assent to Jesus plus some rules – and started to follow Jesus in a life-giving, life-changing way:

This isn’t a situation of “I used to like apples but now I prefer oranges.” Instead, when you have a paradigm shift within the Christian faith, it is more like: “I think I’ve misunderstood the beauty and complexity of apples. I am now going to begin a journey to discover a new and better way of understanding, appreciating, and enjoying apples“.

Yes!  See, I hear a lot about other gods that use the same name as Jesus.   The Jesus that will provide for everyone -- a job, the means to survive.  Stability, marriage, and kids -- you can have those, too.  But you know, I heard another Jesus say that in this world you will have trouble. I've learned not to buy into theology that isn't applicable for everyone, everywhere.  I'm trying to follow the Jesus who -- despite death being all around -- is the very author of life, the visible image of the invisible God, the one who says he'll give us rest and who calls us to imitate him in sacrificial love for others.

I've only recently (finally!) read Wendell Berry – he's a farmer, poet, activist, and fellow Jesus-follower. In his book Hannah Coulter, the protagonist says, “I began to trust the world again, not to give me what I wanted, for I saw that it could not be trusted to do that, but to give unforeseen goods and pleasures that I had not thought to want.” Indeed. Great literature and music, intellectual and character challenges, friends in unexpected places and times, a game of tag with children after a hard day's work – life is still messy and full of sorrow, but also beautiful and filled with joy.

More community stories!

In my last post I shared stories from the communities of Venbal, Birèl, and Derrière Garde.  Three other communities also sent representatives that same day to our meeting place in Bois de Laurence to tell their stories about the changes they've been a part of through Community Health Evangelism (CHE).  In this post I've added one brief story from each of these communities:  Lagwamit, Sylvestre, and Mapou.

Click on this link and scroll down to see Bois de Laurence, then zoom out to see where exactly these villages are located in northeastern Haiti.

 is

Soulvenie Succeda, community health evangelist in Lagwamit

Before CHE started we didn't have any training on hygiene or on lots of other topics.  Women died in childbirth.  Now not many women die, and children aren't sick very often.  There aren't so many cases of diarrhea.  We train the children, too, so that when they leave the latrine they wash their hands with soap and treated water so they don't get sick so often.

We also train people so that they don't get in fights on the street.  We say, “A village is a family.”  We should work together and get along.  We should help each other.  Neighbors used to not get along with other neighbors.  We did two or three trainings and people saw that what they were doing wasn't good, and now they don't fight anymore

Many of us started planting vegetables and we are much healthier now.  We started home vegetable gardens.  We invited everyone to plant, and 14 people decided to make a community garden – so we call our group “The 14 Organization.”

(c) copyright Soulvenie Succeda. Used with author's permission.

Davilus Montimer, trainer in Sylvestre

We started with CHE in 2003. When cholera came in 2010 we were really proud because we were able to teach others. As far as physical topics, we taught people to wash their hands before eating and after leaving the latrine. We taught people to drink treated water. We taught people to use better hygiene so that their children would have fewer parasites and less diarrhea. We taught them that every person should have a place where they go to the bathroom. We taught people about a spiritual life and gave people training so that they could walk with Christ.

So then, when cholera came, other organizations came in to train us. This is when we all felt proud, because when people came with the training they say that we already had all the information! No one involved in the CHE program died, thanks to God, thanks to the information everyone had.

Thanks to CHE. . .we have done perinatal training, and thanks to this we have fewer people die in childbirth.  Once I was in bed and I heard someone knocking at my door. It was someone coming to tell me that Madame Jiwani had abdominal pains. I asked when this started, and we found someone who had a bicycle and who could go get her. He put her in a truck and went to the hospital in Pignon. If she wouldn't have gotten there either she or the baby would have died. She always talks about CHE and says that it's thanks to CHE that she has her baby.

I went to a house where the people there didn't ever go to church. I took my Bible and went and tried to share some verses with them. I continued to talk about how Jesus loves us, John 3:16, he gives us hope. . . The woman of the house used to go out and sell things on Sundays, but now goes to church! . . She stays strong, she is continuing to follow God.

(c) copyright Davilus Montimer. Used with author's permission.

Junimode, trainer in Mapou

We were in darkness. We see CHE as a grace God gives to us, it is like cool water for us.

During the time cholera was ravaging the country, thanks to God we didn't lose a single person.  Mapou has become a beautiful mapou tree! [The community is named after the mapou tree.] We didn't know how to wash our hands, and the children played on the ground. Now when you see a child with a mango you'll hear someone shout: Hey, go wash that mango before eating it!

We had a problem with our road. We sat down together and we decided to come up with a plan to get there faster. No one from the outside helped us, we did it ourselves. Unfortunately, we weren't able to finish before the rainy season started. But thanks be to God, we began. We will get there.

(c) copyright Junimode. Used with author's permission. 

Stories from communities around Bois de Laurence (northeastern Haiti)

Below are some of the stories we were told from volunteers in various villages around Bois de Laurence.  Some have had Community Health Evangelism (CHE) programs for several years, some have just started.  CHE works through three groups:  trainers, locally-selected committees, and community health evangelists (CHEs).

Anel Canis, Venbal, committee member

Before we had CHE in Venbal we really weren't healthy, either physically or spiritually. When CHE started in 2011, we got a lot of information and we shared it with our families. Change didn't happen all at once, but we have started seeing both physical and spiritual changes.

We had fewer people with diarrhea and vomiting in the time of cholera. We have Bibles so that we can evangelize. We do SODIS [solar disinfection of water] and make Tippytaps [simple hand-washing devices]. Since we've started with CHE there definitely are changes: we dig holes for our trash, people make dish racks for their dishes and they don't put them on the ground anymore. A lot of people didn't have latrines but now they do. Even if it's not 100% yet, but a lot of people have them. We have received seeds and we really like this. We have a lot more understanding now, and when someone wrongs us we have self-control, we can work things out. We might still fight some with our neighbors or families, but with CHE we've learned a lot of new ways to work things out.

We improved a road – before, the road from Venbal to the Big Crossroads was so small even small animals couldn't pass through. Now it's not so bad – people can use it and even large animals can pass. It's not all that long but it still helps us.

  (c) copyright Anel Canis. Used with author's permission.

Hercule-Louis Jean, Birèl committee president

Before CHE started in our area we didn't live very well because we didn't have training. People went to the bathroom on the ground. We gave them information so that they would dig a hole for when they needed to go to the bathroom, so that they would go in the hole.

We meet people who don't go to church. When we share information with them they change, and some of them now go to church. We love all of the training, both the spiritual and the physical.

There was a family in the area, they used to fight and yell at each other, always arguing. I went to their house to do some lessons. After perhaps four or five visits we had, where we talked with them, we see that they have changed, they don't fight like this anymore. I also taught them about treating drinking water and now they drink treated water. . .

We had everyone contribute 50 gourdes [just over $1] in case someone needed to go to the hospital. That way, if you don't have any money but need to go to the hospital, we can use what we've collected to send you. We collect funds once per year.

  (c) copyright Hercule-Louis Jean. Used with author's permission.

Joacius Celinor, trainer in Derrière Garde

Before the CHE program started in our area, it was really not healthy. There were lots of physical problems, spiritual problems, and social problems. There were a lot of women that died before going to the hospital, a lot of children who died from diarrhea.

Those of us who were trainers, we trained the CHEs. They started doing home visits and people started to discover what caused diarrhea, what caused children to be malnourished. We sat down together with the parents, we talked with them about a balanced diet: one shouldn't only buy rice but one should also gather leafy vegetables for one's children.

Despite the fact that the epidemic started – I mean cholera – no one died in the Derrière Garde area. We received soap to wash our hands before eating, we got oral rehydration salts. This was thanks to CHE. These things made the people in Derrière Garde love the program, and now everyone is with the CHE program.
 

We live better: we have Bibles now, and we sit down some afternoons to share from the Bible together. We teach people to learn verses by heart. The verse that touches my heart the most is John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever receives him might not perish but have everlasting life.”

We started a program for young people in the afternoons and they named a president who would train them so that they can protect their bodies, respect their parents. If they find trash they shouldn't play with it but they should put it in a hole used for trash. This is for young people from 7- to 17-years-old. We do this once per week.

I have a very special testimony for my family: up until now (and God willing for the future) I haven't spent a lot of money going to the doctor. See, when we have a problem we bathe, we use soap, we know how to use some simple medications. Our children don't get sick often. To God be the glory for this.

(c) copyright Joacius Celinor. Used with author's permission.

A Week in Mombin Crochu (northeastern Haiti) -- Day 2

Beautiful countryside seen on our trip today.

Tuesday, July 16

In the morning Adelin asks me if I “don't have anything he can throw away for me.” He means the pee basin. Thankfully, I was able to tell him that I'd already emptied it.

I'll be riding with Adelin today, and Osse will drive Eric.  Did I say that the roads were bad between Cap Haitien and Mombin Crochu?  Well, it's true -- but the roads even further up the mountains are even worse. I've been around this area via both truck and motorcycle before. The driver has his feet down lots of the time for balance. Adelin's motorcycle doesn't have a working horn, which is unfortunate, since these are rocky, curvy, rutted, mountain roads and we drive all over the road to find the best path.

Just like in the US, when passing people in rural areas in Haiti you greet them. When we would pass by people that Osse or Adelin knew, they often say, “Woy, woy, woy” and the other driver responds, “Okay, okay, okay!” For people that are not known as well, it's a head nod and, “Gentlemen,” or “Ladies and Gentlemen.”

It's ridiculously beautiful here. I'm also getting a good workout – I posted the following on my Facebook:

I have come up with a new interval workout -- traveling by motorcycle through the mountains of northeastern Haiti. You start out with an arm workout (holding the back of the motorcycle to stay on). You switch to legs periodically: lifting them up high as you cross rivers and go through mud puddles, or jamming your feet into the footholds to keep from sliding into the driver on steep downhills, or getting off the bike and hiking up the mountain when it's too steep/rough for the moto to carry two.

It's steeper than it looks in the picture!  I've jumped off to walk up the hill.

I am humbled, for the millionth time, at the hard work that my brothers and sisters do to transform their communities. Adelin worked part time for a USAID/PLAN project doing HIV/AIDS prevention, which is how he got this motorcycle. It needs a new chain, which he hasn't been able to find, so he greased it before we started out this morning. Somehow because he also needs new “sprockets” the motorcycle can't haul us both up every mountain. He doesn't want to push it and risk breaking something. Once even he has to get off and push his motorcycle up the last stretch – I can't imagine how hard this is with a heavy bike.

Yet another hill too steep for this bike's current condition -- as I watch while walking up from below, Adelin has to get off and push his bike the rest of the way.

Today's trip is to the village of Bois de Laurence, where they've asked volunteers from the surrounding villages of Mapou, Lagwamit, Venbal, Birèl, Derrière Garde, and Sylvestre to come and share their stories. (Stay tuned, because I'll put their stories up next!)

After I'm done typing everyone's stories, Osse, Eric, and Adelin meet with the local trainers and answer questions.  Phone signals aren't always good out here and the bad roads (and lack of finances for travel) make it difficult for our master trainers to get out here as often as they would like.   Soon, however, they decide we should get going, since it looks like rain.  Thankfully we get back "home" to Mombin without any rain -- the clouds changed direction.

When I stay at someone's house I like to figure out something that I can do to contribute – here it looks like that is washing dishes. The first two days there is water in the reservoir at the house (it dried up after that and someone's job was to go to the pump closer to the village for water for us). I fill up two tubs for washing and rinsing and set the dishes in a laundry basket to drain. Washing dishes is one of my favorite household tasks. It's only slightly complicated here by the fact that there are stinging ants all around. So every few minutes I have to pause and jump around, scratching one foot with the other, stung again.

One of the guys sees me jumping around and asks if it's the ants. I tell him it's a shame they're the stinging kind, and he says that most ants he knows sting. He says they call non-stinging ones, “crazy ants.” I ask why and he says, “Well, because they don't sting!”

Throughout the night I realize that I'm using my basin several times a night. It's probably more than normal because I deliberately dehydrate a bit during the day so as not to have trouble while traveling. Then I drink a lot of water in the evening to make up for it. But again, the walls in the house do not go all the way up to the ceiling. Although the basin I've got is pretty shallow, it still seems extremely loud to me and, well, you know how time seems to be fluid? Sometimes lasting longer and other times passing by quickly? I swear it takes me five minutes to empty my bladder each time – enough time for every man in the house to wake up and think, “Is she peeing again? What is with her?” Sigh.

T-shirts seen around the village from a campaign we were a part of -- the phrase chosen for this HIV/AIDS prevention campaign is, "Control your pleasures to protect your life."

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.