Casting Nets

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(post started May 10th)
I am in the Miami airport, and my thoughts are clouded. The first wave of “culture shock” has me in a bit of a daze. I can already tell that this homecoming will be different from the last in December, for this time it involves a home-leaving as well. I didn’t necessarily expect for friends to become family, and I’m sensing the geographical and relational tensions between the US and Haiti may be long-term ones in my life. Fortunately, I could afford a response to, “When are you coming back?” September, “si Bondye vle.” (if God wills it–a typical Haitian parting response.) I hope to find sponsorship this summer to go back for at least 2 or 3 months in the fall while preparing for seminary, med school, or other.

SEXUAL EDUCATION
The first official sexual education seminar was a marked event last week. Isolated conversations with guys and girls convinced me of the extreme importance of touching the subject before my departure. Unfortunately, not as many students showed up as I would have liked, due in part to lack of notification, as rain had semi-cancelled school the day before when the seminar was announced. Nonetheless, we had a good 20 or so of each gender–late teens to late twenties.

Ladies first, fellas. Starting with the women, each class lasted roughly an hour and a half. The primary goal of each session was to get people talking and thinking about a taboo subject that greatly impacts their poverty. Needless to say, I was very pleased to be flooded with questions and conversation. The structure: a Powerpoint presentation followed by discussion. The Powerpoint presentation characterized diseases such as HIV/AIDS, trichtomoniasis, ghonneria, syphilis, and herpes, talked about the primary importance of the condom and its correct usage (yes, we did the banana demonstration), addressed awareness of and responses to manipulation (particularly towards females), broke several long-standing and popular myths about what may or may not spread disease or make a baby, and finally engaged potential spiritual consequences of sexual activity outside of marriage.

After 3 hours, I was spent.

Some interesting fruit: I learned that parents almost never talk to their children about sexual matters. The women’s only foreknowledge concerning their first menstrual cycle stemmed from overheard conversations. The silence of many fathers conspires with their actions, which offer no paradigm of faithfulness to their wives, to provide bad examples of family leadership. I also learned of a widespread belief that condoms can spread disease. (WHAT?!) This question referenced uncertainty as to the nature of the “grease” on the inside of the condom; I made very clear that spermicide does not transmit disease, that the choice not to wear a condom actually rejects the only means of protection against STDs. (My theory is that someone invented this lie in order not to use a condom, manipulating the other for an experience that would feel a little better.) All in all, the first sex-ed class was well received by the full attention of its participants, one of whom talked to me afterwards about creating a small group to continue the conversation with the youth.

BEACH
ICB (Institution Classique de Bayonnais) offers an annual field trip to the beach for its students, provided they’ve saved $50 (H) to claim a “seat” on the bus. To be honest, the 3 hour trip to the beach was one of my more miserable experiences in Haiti, competing with one sleepless, malarial night with Gonaives mosquitoes for “most miserable.” It was somewhat of an uncomfortable complement to be treated more Haitian with regard to personal space on a bus some 10-15 bodies past the maximum occupancy of 54. (Actually, I was offered remarkable kindness; they showed every effort to make comfortable room for me.) An introvert who does not appreciate very loud noises, I did my best to surrender “beating them” to “joining them” while people cheered at the top of their lungs. Though I was a bit of a grumpy party-pooper on the way to the beach, I shook it off upon arrival and had a blast! Students, many of whom had never seen the beach and/or did not know how to swim, had the time of their lives. Whether bathing in sand, dancing, or wading in the water, a good time was had by all.

A notable encounter was that with a platoon of Nepalese UN troops on recreation. It’s funny to think of my tired smiles gracing the photo albums of some 20 soldiers who wanted a picture with the American. It’s equally funny to look at the photos I took with them. Many awkward but enjoyable conversations later, I left with vacation invitations and addresses for new-found friends in Nepal. A language barrier prevented much talk of life as a UN soldier in Haiti, though I did learn their station in Mirebalais was pretty quiet.

LEAVING BAYONNAIS
Goodbyes never really hit me at the time they are said; rather, they tend to become real during the absence that follows. Nonetheless, these goodbyes were difficult. We celebrated student participation and achievement in the art, photography, computer, and blogging classes with fresh cake and cold soft drinks. I, along with several students, gave speeches as is customary in such ceremonies. I reminded them that their greatest “thank you” would come not in the form of money or gifts, as so many had expressed wishes to provide, but in taking seriously the responsibility that comes with education, namely the responsibility to share it with others. Many students reminded me of the blessing of my presence in Bayonnais and of what that presence has meant for their lives.
(Where’s Waldo?)

Art and Photography Classes

Computer and Blogging Classes

Now back at home in Savannah, Ga, I am thrilled to be with my family and friends, though I continue to struggle with intense reverse culture shock. Please pray for guidance as I attempt to process my experience in Haiti and reflect on its implications regarding the direction of my life.

CASTING NETS
Looking back, I’ll sign off with a reflection for a church newsletter the other week:

“As my departure approaches on May 10th, a wealth of mixed emotions have made life intensely real. The people of Bayonnais have led me to the intersection of joy and suffering, and the experience has left me transformed and more alive.

Not so long ago I was curled up in a fetal position on the paint-splattered carpet of my studio, broken by uncertainties and the collective pressure of false standards of success, standards that had been dictating a significant portion of my meaning and self-worth for too long. Beware what prayers may come during dark nights, for it is then that your defenses are down, and God may well come and breathe life into those fragile words. I don’t recall everything that escaped my heart and mouth that night, but I do remember asking God to break me if necessary, to mold me for his purpose even if it hurt, but the kicker was, “send me.” One might think I would have been given the opportunity to say, “Actually, God, I take that back. . .” However, my first day in Haiti was a divine two-by-four to the head, and friends, the certainty of a divine two-by-four is actually quite refreshing. All of my talents were fit for investment in the community, and my brokenness was fit for receiving God’s wisdom from my neighbors in poverty.

Risk is scary but beautiful from the other side. Cast your nets in God’s waters. Commune with the poor, and receive the warm blessings of their fire.”

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