We Wanna Go Home

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

It is 9 PM. The bedroom we all sleep in is now dark and quiet. It's the same room we stayed in last summer during the month of June when we first visited Haiti. The past 17 ½ hours have not been a very pleasant reintroduction to our time at COTP and Kirk and I have looked at one another and actually wondered aloud, “what have we done!”

It seems days ago we walked out of the hanger in Ft. Pierce just in time to see the sun begin to tint the sky with hues of brilliant orange; our B-3 a silhouette in the foreground. Noah began to have stomach pain and nausea before stepping onto the plane. He could not be sure at first what seemed to be causing the trouble but later could understand it as anxiety as he said, “it's just feeling so real now!” After some struggle to regain control, he calmed and joined the pilots in the cockpit, listening in on his own headset from the jump-seat.

Unfortunately his recovery was replaced with Elijah's unprompted vomiting and motion sickness which continued for the rest of the day until bed.

Once again the drive from Cap Haitian airport filled my emotions with a mixture of all of Haiti's joy and pain. The beautiful dark mountains in the background and the busy street life of the town with the poverty of gaunt faces, bony ribs, and tattered clothes; unstable shacks with jagged tin roofs which people called homes – not quite as nice as the raggedy garden shed we left behind, and yet “home” for some family. Men push ox-carts full of water tanks, push wheel barrow with freshly butchered beef, push their way through crowded streets with almost full bike tires. Children sing and joke, stare and shout. Women carry infants or plastic market sacks, or heavy loads on their heads,swaying their hips as they stroll to or from the market in the morning sun. There is so much pride, beauty, and strength right along side brokenness, weariness, and hopelessness. Perhaps not so different from home...but I feel a world away.

There were no plans or expectations for us when we arrived. We were warmly greeted by friends, old and new. It was great to see those I've only connected with on Facebook, as well as friends we met last summer, and, of course, the VandeLune's.  I felt comfort in the familiarity of friends and the hope of fellowship.

The mid afternoon meal was served, but I had no appetite for it. We unpacked a bit and shortly after the babies nap time, we went to visit Natalie and Rose. They were in the field across the road from the main gate, sitting in the grass with the Nannies. Noah took up with Rose right away, making her giggle at his antics. I sat nearby watching and making eye contact, encouraging the play. Soon I spotted Natalie, and kneeled down and talked to her. She was a little shy but may have recognized me from the picture she has of me.

It is a strange feeling to see the child who is yours, who is not yet. The girls have little to no concept of who we are. Natalie has looked at our family picture book and can put the right names to the faces, but beyond that does not understand what it will mean for us to be her family. Perhaps we don't really understand yet, either. I now feel a deepening tug to bring them into the safety of our home. But I know that home in Haiti does not yet exist, so we need to have a place and space for the boys to feel safe before we move forward with the girls. We focus on this first: establishing home for the family that existed before moving to Haiti in order to create as safe place for Natalie and Rose to join us. A place to live is urgent. We will talk with the necessary people to make this plan a reality.

This evening was tough. Elijah was feeling sick from his previous motion sickness and wanted to be home, Noah was feeling anxious and homesick. The noise and centrality of the guesthouse was not feeling restful and Kirk and I felt we needed to make a move to something permanent ASAP if we wanted this reintroduction to Haiti to succeed for the boys, as well as us.

So that's the plan for tomorrow.  We've arrived but now we need to find home.