Haiti: Part 3

Day 3

By the third day in Haiti, I found myself truly appreciating the little things. 

The shade─it is a beautiful thing. Showers and fans─marvelous inventions, if I do say so myself.  I think I may have even walked away from this experience with a (slight) gratefulness for our chilly Iowa winters.

It was hot down there.  

It was very hot.  

All day, every day─it was hot.

One afternoon, while playing on the basketball court with some of the kids during the sports camp, I noticed that one of the boys was wearing a long sleeve compression shirt.  

I was amazed that he hadn't yet passed out from the heat─and he was playing basketball too!  

Though I suppose after living there for quite awhile, you'd learn to adapt.

And that's just the thing. The weather in Haiti─that's all the kids know. They don't know what it feels like to walk into an air conditioned house after hours in the sun, or how cold it feels when someone drops snow down your shirt. (You know who you are.)

They've never experienced a brain freeze from eating ice cream too fast, or gotten shivers from the crisp autumn air. They may have learned of the seasons in school, or seen pictures of cold winter days, but to truly experience it─that is something entirely different.

And I think that's why I find it so difficult to explain my trip to Haiti.

It's easy to show pictures and even share stories, but experiencing the culture and meeting the people─it's something entirely different.

But I'll try anyway.

Day three happened to land on a Sunday. 

Before going on the trip, I'd heard so many positive comments about the worship services at UCI, so you can only image how curious I was to see and experience firsthand what they were all about. (They were about Jesus, by the way. But you probably already guessed that.)

My first observation upon entering the church was that these people took "Sunday's Best" to a whole new level. The Haitian men and women who were sitting there that morning, they hadn't just thrown on any old clothes. It was evident in comparing what I had seen the day prior, to what people were wearing then, that an effort had been made in dressing for Sunday worship.

My second observation was that for the first time in my life, I was in the minority. I was no longer in the majority of people. But I never felt excluded. I never felt like an outsider.  

 
I only got a taste as to what it might be like for newcomers to enter a foreign place, unable to understand the words being said and the things being done. I only felt out of place for a few short seconds, for the Haitians welcomed us into their presence.  

We knew that we were welcome.

On this particular Sunday, the service was cut short and as a congregation, we walked a fair distance to a sister church for their first morning of worship in the new space.

I've never been a great judge of distance, so I couldn't even give you a guess in the ballpark as to the distance we walked. All I can say is that the roads were very rough, many at steep inclines, and they sure made my breathing heavy. I can only imagine what it would be like to walk these roads everyday.

By the time we got to the church, the building was overflowing. 

This photo doesn't give justice to the amount of overflow coming from the church.

There were just so many people, each wanting to participate in this dedication ceremony. My team sat outside the church in the shade, listening to the service.

 
There was a lot of singing, and though I didn't quite know any of the words they were singing, I knew the one who they were singing to. Every once in a while I'd hear the tune of a song we sang back in my church at home─that was when I got the goosebumps. 

(Who knew you could get goosebumps in the Haiti heat?)

If I'm remembering correctly, church started a little after 8 that morning, and we left to head back to UCI a little before noon. I observed two things that morning: prayers are longer in Haiti, and services are longer in Haiti. (And we even left the service early! For all I know the service could've continued all day.)

While our meals were typically made by the Haitian women on site, Sunday was our day to cook. I couldn't tell you exactly why the women weren't cooking for us that day, but I assume the reason follows along the same path as why many of us try not to work on Sunday.

Delicious cinnamon rolls made by the women at UCI.

Before I get ahead of myself, I would like to personally give a shout out to the team members who made spaghetti in the hot kitchen that afternoon. Rumor has it the water took one hour to boil. You guys rock.

The rest of the day was fairly laid-back.  

I remember sitting─and staring. I was a little tired. (Okay, I was a lotta tired.) I might have gone to play volleyball at one point. Maybe. I really don't remember. I was out of it. I think we all were.

And that was one of our greatest setbacks the first few days─at least one of my greatest setbacks.  

We were just so tired. Low on sleep, low on energy.

But don't worry! The energy pitfall didn't last all week. Just wait for day 5. I know you're excited.

[Interested in reading more? Check out the Blog Archive to the right to find links to my other posts.]

If you liked this post, you might like...
Haiti: Part 1

Haiti: Part 2
Haiti: Part 4
Haiti: Part 5
Haiti: Part 6
Haiti: Part 7