Ofisye

      Yesterday we went to one of my very favorite places, a neighborhood I have visited off and on since my first trip to Haiti almost twelve years ago. This is the neighborhood I always hoped we would go to when visiting Haiti on college spring breaks and it is one of two places that began to solidify for me the hope of one day making a life in this country, meeting healthcare needs.

   Visiting in Ofisye is so many things. It is the familiar heartache of learning about another mama-less little girl. It is mango-sticky fingers slipped in mine and “Blan!” shouted down the beach. It is pebbles in my shoes as I jump streams, stubbornly insisting I can do it. It is blood pressure checks on dear older adults and desperate prayers for wisdom when those numbers read too high. It is ibuprofen when a tooth really needs to be pulled. It is pulling sticks out of feet, for once grateful for tough skin, while hoping infection does not set in. It is gifts of mangoes and hands running through my hair. It is words and questions repeated because I don’t understand the first time. It is laughter all around when I sing children’s songs. It is falling on my butt because we thought it would be a good idea to let one of the girls carry me piggyback down the path. It is tiny twins jumping around, laughing one minute and angrily throwing sand at each other the next. It is little ones in my lap, held tight, with prayers whispered over them.  It is the tension between wanting to health care needs met and being terrified of reinforcing dependency. It is beautiful and precious and hard.

    Friends, will you join with me in prayers for Ofisye. Pray for Wancheez who got the stick in her foot yesterday, and that she heals without infection setting in. Pray for justice for these people, that physical and spiritual needs would be answered in ways that do not steal their dignity. Pray for me as I learn to navigate these relationships. Thank you.