Contradictions

Considering life as a humanitarian, it seems as though it is just composed of a series of contradictions.

On one hand, it is the least freedom that I’ve ever had. I live in a sort of a fishbowl. I am constantly surrounded by my kids (which I love), I have no privacy at all, people are always aware of what I’m doing, and I need to hold myself to better standards of propriety than at any other time in my life.

But at the same time, it is also the most freedom I've ever had. I can choose to work on whichever projects I decide to do, have time to stop and write a song, do whichever activities I wish to do with the kids and can go do them at whichever time I decide to. I can be a nurse, teacher, caregiver, handywoman- you name it- all at the same time.

Living here is such an isolating experience. It can be very lonely. I’m away from friends and family and the people that most would say, know me best. It’s hard to stay in touch through lack of free time, limited technology and high cost.

But I also have a new set of friends and family, composed of my beautiful children, staff, and other expats undergoing the same experiences and of people within the community that make me feel like I’m truly at home.

I've learned a new language and can speak it fluently.

But it’s also making me feel like my ability to speak good educated English is rapidly declining. I have to think about the concept of contradiction for a solid minute before I came up with the word.

This is the poorest I’ve ever been.

But compared to most here I'm still considered really rich.

I hate the corruption and how the government functions.

Yet I have to work with them and remain on their "good side".

I am so competent… I have skills and knowledge that people here don’t…just basic things we are taught even in elementary school impress the people here, but back home it would just be normal.

Yet at the same time, I feel totally incompetent. Particularly when I am trying to cook Haitian food or doing some of the things that are second nature to people here.. The list could go on and on and on.

In one way I’m totally independent. I live on my own with a bunch of children I am fully responsible for. But I am also fully dependent upon those around me– for help, for motivation, for friendship, for work and to just keep me sane.

This is the most time that I have ever spent working (literally 24/7)…being here means that I am always on the job, either in literally being at the house all day every day with my kids or doing projects in other villages. I have to keep in mind my role in the community and make sure that I present myself in a good light, both for the success of my work and for the sake of representing Canada and other "blans".

On the other side, this is also the least time that I spend working. Because to me, most of the time this doesn't feel like work.

A part of me is bitter and I have been burnt out feeling like Haiti has literally broken me in two.

But I also know it is the only thing that keeps me together most days. "It can break your heart into a million pieces, yet still be the reason it beats".

When I was getting ready to leave, some people told me that I was doing a great thing and sacrificing so much. There are definitely things that I gave up to came here and wish that I hadn’t had to.

But at the same time, this is one of the most selfish things that I have ever done. I’m doing this because I wanted to. While I’m (oh dear lord I hope) helping people in my community and giving a future to my children, I’m also helping myself. My work here has helped me to decide exactly what makes me happy and makes me feel whole. I left friends and family behind, demanding that they will still be there for me while I’m gone and when I get back. Really, more selfish than selfless.

I hate the idea of orphanages. I am frustrated that they exist. I am angry at parents for being so willing to give up their children.

Yet I'm running a children's home just for that. The circumstances that lead some parents to abandon their children is sometimes beyond the parents control. Rape, disease, extreme poverty, etc. I have witnessed some of the horrific things these parents have been faced with or what the mothers have gone through. I try my best to understand.

What I’m doing here is not “real life” AKA "what I am supposed to be doing" (according to some people). I was talking with a friend who has a full-time job in the US—in their book, that's "the real life situation". I’m so far removed from all of the things so staple to real Canadian/American 20-something life.

But this is maybe more real than my life could ever have been if I had stayed in Canada. I have delivered babies, stitched wounds, held babies dying of malnutrition and disease, brought babies back to health including some of my kids here, I've jumped off the top of waterfalls, went scuba diving, went paragliding (unfortunately that one didn't end as planned when the parachute didn't open), witnessed the evils mother nature has to offer, experienced many types of religion, dealt with corruption, violence, and crime, lived without basic "necessities", I have felt what it means to literally worry about how you would eat or provide food for your children the next day. Realities of simply living life are more present in my eyes—trying to figure out where water comes from so that there is enough to drink or wash laundry by hand. Learning how to conserve everything. Grinding peanuts to make peanut butter…maybe more real than the instant, plastic wrapped life that I could be living in Canada.

Maybe it’s all about balancing these contrasts, or maybe they aren’t even all that large. One way or another, life here continues to surprise me—sometimes by the foreign and sometimes by how very regular it is.

Oh, the Things I've Learned ...

So, I'm back. I am back living in the small Caribbean Island that most of us didn't even know existed until the earthquake. I am back running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. The madness never ever ends. And aside from my life being terribly entertaining here in good ole Haiti, it’s also quite exhausting most of the time. I have only been back for a few days but the stress and sleepless nights didn't take any time to set in. Chikungunya is kicking butts and taking names in our household. I am the only one who has not gotten it yet (knock on wood). Tyson is laying on the floor next to me with a snotty nose and fever, a new member of our household, Shellson (1yr old) who is the brother of Jodline and Jodnise is sitting with our volunteer Lauren and chugging down a pedishare shake (he is severely malnourished and full of worms), and baby Emilio is fast asleep on my lap making little cooing noises. Our house is absolutely bonkers. This virus has every kid sick with a fever and the crying is never ending. I feel so bad for my babies as I can see the pain they are feeling just by looking at them. They are not themselves. Sometimes it is easy to forget another world exists when I am living out my daily routine here in Haiti. I am fully absorbed into this life of beans and rice, bartering in markets, sweltering in the heat, and running back and forth between fighting or crying children. I have adapted to the third-world difficulties that adorn my lifestyle. However, Every now and then a hint of nostalgia for my pre Haiti life hits me like a blinding light and I think to myself "Emily what the heck are you doing here".

There are moments here in Haiti when I have really wanted to give up and purchase the next plane ticket back home. Sometimes I feel like I am living in a fictional book with a plot that is only fun to read about but not live. They might be great reads, but would you really want to face the crazy stories that they boast? And then there are moments like today when I am able to center my mind and body as I watch my kids dance around to music. I am able to focus on the positives, and remind myself that little by little, I might be making a difference for these kids and the most rewarding thing of all of this, is watching them transform into lively, bubbly, and healthy children. Sometimes all it takes is the hug from one of my kids, an email from a stranger, or a random act of kindness from someone to set my path straight again.

Tyson turned two this month. It is so hard to believe how much he has grown. Time really did fly by. He went from being a tiny little 3 week old baby who was very sick and who slept on my chest to a crazy, fearless, and handsome little boy who still loves sleeping in my arms. He has changed in so many ways but I am so happy that he is still a mama's boy. He has come so far. It is ironic that I named him "Tyson".. Because he sure is a little fighter.

Our four new kids are settling in great. Sabrina is four years old and full of attitude but loves to dance. Lunda is 3 years old and has the most contagious personality and has the cutest giggle, she loves to play "mommy" with the younger ones. Jeanly is 9 years old and you can tell he is so happy to be here, he is literally bouncing off walls and soaking up any affection he can get. He asked me the other day if he can "stay here forever" and when I bought him a new mattress for his bed he told me he has never had his own bed before. Baby Emilio is already starting to grow. His favourite place to sleep is on my chest and he loves digging his face into my neck. I was trying really hard not to get attached to him... I think it's too late for that.

Today we are taking six of our boys to my friend Jason's house for a pool party. The boys first time in a pool (other than Don and Wendel) was two weeks ago. My friend Tim from England offered them swimming lessons and we ate pizzas and drank some cold ice tea. They had the time of their lives. It is so fulfilling to watch them laugh and burst with excitement. It makes all the hardships worth it. This is why I am here. This is what I do what I do.

I keep thinking back to how this all began. Running a children's home was never in my plans. I never dreamed of caring for 14 children and taking on that responsibility at such a young age. If you would have told me my life would be like this four years ago.. I would have said "ya right" or "no way" and I probably would have ran in the other direction. I always wanted to help people and I always dreamed of having an organization where I could travel to do that. However, I never imagined this. Never. It's not a path I chose, I think it more or less chose me. When this journey began we were living in a tiny house in the country side with no running water, electricity, furniture, tires off of big trucks were flying into our yard where our kids play soccer, and I had only $500 in our bank account. We were constantly sick and our living conditions were horrid. For fun, I shot tarantulas and cockroaches with a BB gun or played catch with mangos. But despite all of that, we were still extremely happy. I learned to live with less. I learned to appreciate things and I noticed how much I had truly taken for granted. I learned that that lifestyle is actually when I feel whole as it forces you to do extreme soul searching and you begin to learn things about yourself that you never knew before. I learned so many things in that first year of living with less such as:

Clothing is only dirty if it smells and/or there are notable stains. Wearing clothing 3 days in a row is perfectly acceptable & strategic.

Vendors at the market automatically double the price for a white woman.

Using a machete is a fabulous arm workout.

Pick your moto driver based on their shoes. Closed toed and tidy say “hey, I am responsible and I don’t drive through big mud holes”.

Ants will eat through Tupperware.

Pimples look like mosquito bites to children… no kids, mosquitos didn’t attack my face, its’ your lovely humidity that’s doing this.

Letters are the sincerest form of communication.

Air-conditioning was the greatest invention in the history of the world.

So was the Ice Cube.

Also the toilet.

Cockroaches are immune to bug spray, insecticide, vinegar, bleach, and every home-remedy you can think of.

I love rain.

And then I hate rain.

If your food does not contain four cups of oil and five cubes of Maggie, then it isn’t edible.
Children will do absolutely anything for candy.

Placing your left hand behind your back while you bend down to sweep releases pressure and allows for a more effective stroke with the broom.

Celine Dion is a God here. Her heart will go on and on and on and on throughout the whole day and night, at max volume, and with no sympathy for anyone trying to sleep.

Palm wine is literally alcohol tapped straight from a tree.

Never drink the water.

Unless you want to be severely dehydrated and loose five pounds.

When a meeting is scheduled for 1 o’clock, it will start at 4 o’clock.

Moto exhaust pipes are on the right, so climb onto the moto from the left… unless you want an ugly calf burn like me.

And don’t hold onto the moto driver. It’s weird. And he will enjoy it too much and brag to all of his friends.

Candles are super fun and convenient for blackouts… romantic dinner for one?

Always bring toilet paper, a headlamp, and hand-sanitizer wherever you go.

Goats are not as cute as they seem at the petting zoo.

Ladies, if you plan to use tampons you had better bring a whack load because you will not find them here. And don't be surprised that when you throw out your bathroom garbage into the burn pile, people will find the applicators and play with them. No matter how many times you tell them not too.

Smile when you want to cry, and pray even if you don’t think anyone is listening.

We are much stronger and braver than we think we are. So much more resilient than we could ever imagine.

I say this a lot, but I truly mean it, we could not be here without such a great support system back home. We are so grateful for those whose partner with us through their ongoing support, encouragement, and finances. Back in Canada I have been working multiple jobs to try and continue to support the kids and to also pay my own bills and debts and it's been difficult to balance both but every time I think the money has run out and I start worrying how we will put food on the table that week, something, or better yet, SOMEONE always seems to come through for us. As I write this, I sit in a beautiful house we rent, we have rice in storage closet, the kids are eating cornflakes and milk, and they are growing stronger and healthier with each day that passes. I have been blessed abundantly. With everyone's help we are able to provide food, shelter, clothing, and all basic necessities to these children.. and most of all.. lots of love and affection that they are in desperate need, and so deserving of.

Right now our current "big" needs are:
- New battery for our generator ($150 US)
-Two new windows (kids broke playing soccer)
- Three fans (one for each of the kids rooms) ($60 US each)
- Crib or bassinet for baby ($100 US)
- Vehicle ($6,000 US)
- Rent for house for Sept 28 ($10,000 US)

If anyone wishes to learn more or to donate you can do so by visiting our website www.himeforhelp.org or email me at emily@himeforhelp.org

Much love to everyone back home !!!

Leave Your Daily Hell

Two years ago, I boarded a plane to the earthquake, hurricane, and cholera ravished Caribbean Island of Haiti. I had $500 in our Organization's bank account, I had 3 suitcases, and a heart and a head full of determination that we would "make it work". At the time I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I arrived in Haiti speaking only a few common Creole words- hi, how are you?, what is your name?, how old are you?. I had no idea how I was going to communicate with my kids and be able to understand what it was that was making them cry, angry, or if they were hungry or sick- but we managed. Charades became a fun game in our household. We learned to communicate without using verbal language. I honestly had no idea of the complications and red tape and the governmental corruption that I would find myself in. I had no idea how I was going to raise a group of children that would be fully dependent on me. I had no idea of the financial demands. I wasn't prepared for the responsibility or what was in store for me, but I had no other option but to roll with the punches.. and that is exactly what we did.



I was on my way to earning a double major- BA(honors) in Criminology & Sociology at the University of Windsor. I had the most perfect little house, a beat up blue sunfire, a job I enjoyed, a boyfriend I had thought I loved, and a family that meant (and still does mean) the world to me. I had everything that our Western Society claims is "important". But something was missing. It had been since I had returned home from my first trip to Ghana in the summer of 2010. I began to feel a great void and realized how deeply unhappy I was with my luxurious life back in Canada. At the age of seventeen, I exposed myself to things that forced me to develop a new sense of reality. After that first life altering trip, I then decided to travel to Haiti as I had this ache in my heart to be once again doing something more meaningful with my life. During my first trip to Haiti in May 2011, I fell deeply in love with the chaotic and complex country. I found myself there. I found a place that I felt at ease, where my heart constantly felt full, and where I felt as if I could be my truest self. I fell in love with the people and their vibrancy and resiliency. So when I got a call about a group of children that needed assistance, it took me all of forty five minutes to decide that I would pack up my entire existence into 3 suitcases and give up my former life full of the finer things to live in a small house with no electricity, no running water, tarantulas & cockroaches running up and down my walls, absolutely no furniture, to ride on the back of motorcycles and be covered in piss, snot, and vomit on a good day- human feces on a bad. To most- this sounds absolutely ludicrous. But within these past few years I have learned lessons that my University professors will never be able to teach me. I have been put into situations that were extremely uncomfortable, scary, and down right unimaginable, but they have allowed me to grow as an individual. I have learned to speak a new language within six short months as I had no one to translate or tell me what my children wanted. I have dealt with loss, sorrow, corruption, violence, abuse, disease, and severe suffering. It has taught me patience, persistence, strength, and most of all - love. At the age of nineteen, I not only became a mother but also a teacher, a nurse, a tutor, a handy-woman, 24/7 on call support system, patient transporter, translator, affection giver, piggy bank, spokesperson, advocate, host for volunteers, and a cater to whatever needs arise with those that surround me. What more could I ask for ? I am still learning more and more with each day that passes- even without being directly in the country. My kids teach me the greatest lessons of all. I went to Haiti hoping to change their lives, but in totality- they are the ones that are changing mine.

We have had our fair share of our ups and our downs. Usually being one extreme or the other. We have been tested to our limits. There were so many nights that I would lay awake in my bed wondering how I would feed the kids that week, how we would continue to pay the school, how I would pay the nanny, how we would stick together and fight this government... I wondered a lot about the kids futures and who they would become. I was constantly worried about them falling ill or something happening to them. I still do. Sleep has become a rare gift to me.

As I write this today, my mind is being flooded with endless memories. I look back to that first day with my kids and have tears in my eyes... as every obstacle we over came, every illness we faced, every heart-wrenching event that crossed our paths, we made it- together- as a family. And I would not have it any other way. We have developed something so rare and so special. We have developed complete utter trust in one another. We have developed a love that is boundless and limitless- no matter how many thousands of miles may separate us- we know that we are always thinking of each other. These children have inspired me in so many ways. I look up to them and strive to be like them- their strength, their courage, their resilience, it leaves me absolutely awestruck.



It is astounding looking back to two years ago when we first began this journey and the way that we survived with such little. I still remember using the bucket as a toilet (or a pringles can at times). I still remember ONLY being able to have bucket showers and getting so frustrated because I couldn't get the shampoo out of my hair. I remember laying in bed with my BB gun and shooting all of the tarantulas and cockroaches that appeared from every crevice. I remember tires flying off big transport trucks into our front yard where our kids were playing soccer. I remember the humiliation the kids felt when our water basin dried up and they had to go to school or church without bathing. I remember throwing mangoes at my friends for fun. I remember that when dark hit at 6:30 pm we would rush to the rooms to find the flash lights and continue to have dance offs, domino matches, or play hide n go seek. I remember walking to the beach every day and becoming so bonded with a donkey and he became one of my only friends in our town - he liked the blan (probably because I coached him with apples). I remember the rare occasions (once every two weeks) when they would give us electricity and a huge celebration would take place in our village- you didn't even have to see a light come on, you knew it was on just from the cheering in the streets. I remember struggling every day and worrying where we would come up with the funds to continue feeding the children. I remember being stuck on the top of a bunk bed paralyzed from the waist down and hallucinating from the Malaria that was rummaging through my body and not having anyone to transport me to a hospital. I remember when the hurricane that hit and huddling together with a family that I had fallen so deeply in love with on the top of a mountain and embracing the winds and rain together as their house fell to the ground around us. I remember being at peace with all of these things as well. I remember not realizing how bad it was until being removed from the situation. We made due with what we had. We lived simply and though we did not have materialistic items, we did have each other. And that was always enough.



If I could give any advice to young people out there - it is to travel. Go searching for something more, experience different cultures, engage in new ways of living, learn something about our world. Sit there with locals and hear their stories- play dominos in the streets with old men, feel their pain- witness their struggles- struggle yourself. Learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. It will allow you to grow and help you to find out things about yourself you may have never known. I have so many young people, as well as adults, message me on a daily basis saying they wish they could do what I'm doing, they wish they could travel, they wish they could help people. Folks, YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR OWN OBSTACLES. You are the only ones holding yourselves back. Stop making excuses and JUST DO IT !!!! Take a chance. Take a risk. Leave your daily hell- experience someone else's- you will return with a whole new perspective. And most of all... follow your heart.


I wrote this song last week about my time spent overseas - focusing mostly on Haiti, but also Ghana and the Philippines. All stories within the song are true and all photos are my own.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qQivIKJ_OA&feature=youtu.be
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I would like to thank everyone who has supported, fundraised, volunteered, and shared our stories. We couldn't keep things going without all of you.

We have an upcoming fundraiser on March 29th @ Bob N Buoys in Mitchell's Bay Ontario, would love to see you all there !!! It will be all you can eat perch and live entertainment. We will also have door prizes and 50/50 raffle.
If you are unable to attend but would still like to donate please visit our website www.himeforhelp.org and hit the "donate now" button at the top of our page. Thank you !!

From Chaos to Comfort

I awoke as I did every morning. The call to prayer erupted at 5:30 a.m and was so loud that I could have sworn the church had set it's amplifiers right next to my pillow. As I rolled over and looked beside me, Tyson was still sleeping like a log. Whenever the pastor paused, I'd inhale a deep breath, praying that it was over, but even during his brief pauses the silence was always broken by a choir of chickens, goats, dogs, or babies crying. I would finally pull myself out of bed and make my way through the dark narrow hallways to our small bathroom. The wooden door that has never been able to shut creeks loudly. Our toilet bowl is full of shit and flies. The toilet seat is broken and stained brown. No running water means no flushing. I head over to our sink that is hanging out of the wall and turn the tap just hoping that maybe a drop would come out. But that was wishful thinking. I would grab a pail from our cement slab that was meant for showering and head over to our water basin to the left of the house. It was small, holding only enough water to last us a few days. Many times we went without, but this morning I was fortunate enough to be able to fill my bucket. I carried it back into the dark musty bathroom and placed it on the floor. I grabbed the cup and filled it from the bucket. As I lifted my arms above my head preparing to release the cup of water onto my hot sticky body, I shivered. I knew what to expect as I poured the ice cold water onto my head. The hardest part about bucket showers was never knowing if the shampoo was actually out of your hair or not. It became a fun guessing game. After my shower, I grabbed a t-shirt to dry off. One thing I had forgot to pack when I stuffed my entire existence into two suitcases- was a towel. I quickly dried myself off and dug through my suitcase trying to find something to wear for the day. I didn't need a mirror to see how awful I looked in my faded soccer shorts and dirty tank top. I then grabbed my tooth brush and my sachet of water and headed over towards the water basin. I stood beneath a palm tree and beautiful fruit trees that the hummingbirds and geckos loved to swarm. I bit the corner of my water sachet to make an opening for the water to flow over the head of my toothbrush. I leaned forward and began brushing my teeth.

As most mornings, breakfast consisted of an oatmeal like substance. It actually tasted more like cake batter. We would each take a bowl and a piece of bread and mix them both together and sit on the floor and enjoy our meal. We only had three plastic chairs in the entire house.

After breakfast the kids prepared for school. They kissed me goodbye as they headed out the door and I patiently awaited their return in the afternoon. Some kids went to school in the morning, and some only went in the afternoons. Which meant there was always a few kids hanging around the house to keep me entertained.

My phone was dead as well as my computer. We had not had electricity for over a week now. I don't really remember what occupied my days when the kids were at school. I am guess quick trips to the market? Naps? The ongoing challenge of who could climb the hightest up the palm tree or seeing how many spiders and cock roaches we could blow up with our BB guns? Who knows... Dinner was cooked on a small cast iron stove (grill?) at the back of the house. When dinner was finished being cooked we would bring in the big pots of rice and beans and place them on our dirty kitchen floor. We would place just enough plates on the floor beside them and dish them out. The smallest kids would get their plates first. We didn't have enough cups in the house for each kid to have their own, so they often shared a glass of water. Night came early in Haiti, it was usually pitch black by 6:30 pm. The kids would run around avoiding bed time at all costs then when we finally won- they would decide tp hang out in their room talking and giggling until they finally fell asleep. All ten kids plus the nanny slept in the same room. Some slept on the floor. The room was tiny- smaller than mmost rooms back home. The heat was intolerable and bed bugs infested the sheets and clothing. After I had kissed the kids goodnight I would then challenge volunteers or staff to a game of dominios. Every night it seemed as if a fight broke out over who would get to use the only two flash lights in the house. However, some nights, when the batteries died, we would spend the night without any sort of lighting at all.

SMACK ! A cockroach would land on my face. I would awake at all hours of the night- either from Tyson waking up and wanting a bottle or from the infestation of bed bugs biting at my skin, cockroaches landing on my body, or the squeaks of mice and rats chewing the corners of my suitcases.

Living in Haiti, in these conditions, for almost nine months, I felt at turns dizzy, exhausted, depressed, and sometimes down right insane. I had adapted and accepted the living conditions quickly. But my body did not, leaving my sick for days on end. I never once felt sorry for myself for the way that I was living though. A part of me kind of enjoyed it actually, it was like a really long camping trip. However, a low level rage had slowly begun to build inside of me. I had witnessed people's burnouts first hand- I watched other foreigners turn bitter and cynical. I didn't want that. Really, all I wanted was some clean running water to be able to shower in. To get that sticky and dirty feeling off of my skin. My sanity relied on few things there- water and electricity being the primary ones. But even these seemed as if they were too much to ask for.

It's strange for me to state the the living conditions were also depressingly lonely since I was constantly surrounded by my kids... but I had felt lonelier than ever during these months. I also experienced the feeling of unsatisfaction with myself. The work that I and my friends were doing in Haiti was not ending the country's real problems: the ongoing murders, displacements, slavery, kidnappings, rape, and disease. All that I was doing was providing a shelter for a few of the hundreds of thousands of kids that were homeless and needing to be fed and loved. I was handing out medicine, clothes, food, to the villagers in the mountains and volunteering whatever extra time I had at other orphanages, hospitals, or medical clinics. But it just never seemed like I was doing enough. Ever. The need is just so great in Haiti.

It was now 2012 and the Haitian earthquake had already killed over 316,000 people and displaced over 1.5 million people. People were forced off of their lands, their homes lay in ruins, their belongings either destroyed or stolen, and the government was backing gangs who were firing guns throughout the streets. It was chaos. Although things had improved between 2010-2012.. chaos still erupted country wide. And I began to get a taste of the chaotic lifestyle. It became engraved in my bones.. now .. I find it hard to function without the chaos and constant go go go.

By now I have heard it all- "You're like Mother Teresa" or my favourite- "You're just like Angelina Jolie".. "The world needs more people like you". I am a humanitarian. I have worked in some of the worst areas in Haiti. I have held and fed starving babies whose bones were so brittle that I thought they were going to disintegrate in my arms. I have organized food, clothing, and medical distributions. I have comforted children who had been raped, abused, and rescued from slavery. I have taken those children into my home. I have road on the back of motos heading into the slums of Haiti (the most dangerous and poorest place in the Western Hemisphere) in search of a missing boy. I have exposed myself to cholera, TB, HIV, and many other diseases and circumstances trying to save lives of those who were in need. I have wrote up endless reports, done numerous funderaisers, and have hosted volunteers to share with them a taste of the Haitian culture. But I am not a famous actress, I am no hero, and I am most definitely not a saint. I can't really blame people for these assumptions, as I was once in their shoes admiring the lives of aid workers around the world. But then you realize that they are just human beings doing what they believe in their hearts to be right and following a calling of their own. Most of us humanitarians would agree that the countries in which we visit have always given more to us than what we could ever possibly give to them.

The summer of 2010 was the summer that I decided to jump on a plane and volunteer in Ghana, Africa- completely alone. It was my first time really traveling by myself, and my first encounter with such foreign conditions. I hopped onto to buses filled with people where the doors were hanging off and chickens were biting at my ankles. I got bites all over my body from strange insects. I suffered from constant diarrhea. I bartered in markets in a language that I could not speak or understand. But during this trip, something clicked. I was for the first time experiencing inequality close up. For the first time I felt the sting of being branded as an outsider, someone who was considered inferior- this experience led me to begin to realize how people from other countries must feel when they visit or immigrate to North America. This realization was the turning point from childhood to adulthood for me, it happened while I was just sitting on the airplane heading to Ghana. I began to embrace a different and intriguing way of life as I began venturing out to towns where there was no running water and where treatable diseases were left untreated. I saw something out there far bigger than my own Chatham-Kent existence, and I wanted to be part of it. I returned home determined that I would pursue this work. However, at that time I am not exactly sure that I fully understood what I was getting into. Even now it is hard for me to distill my thoughts and feelings into one piece of writing. Whatever my intentions were, subconscious or not, they led me to the conclusion that my life back home could wait. I was young and free and I wanted to find something meaningful to do with my life. I wanted adventure, chaos, and I wanted to help people. I wanted to continue to feel passionate about what I was doing.

These past few years have been the most challenging but rewarding years of my life. I wouldn't trade them for the world. They have made me into who I am today. When I first began my journey, I was naive beyond belief. It wasn't until this past year, after a series of unpleasant events, that I realized that I am not as indestructible as I once believed I was. I exhausted myself, I became burnt out, I lost my sanity at times. I grew up a lot as well. My kids have given me a new meaning of life. They have shown me what true unconditional love means. I am blessed like no other. I cannot even put into words how much my kids, friends, and others who's paths happened to cross mine during my travels have inspired me, motivated me, and pushed me to continue to keep fighting for my passion and for what I believe in. I owe everything to them. I am so grateful for my community and for their on going support- we would not have an orphanage if it wasn't for your ongoing donations. Although I have returned home to Canada, Haiti is still forever in my heart and I will continue to visit, fundraise, and of course support my children. However, I have decided that I am going to dedicate these next two years to finishing my degree at the University of Windsor in Criminology and Sociology and to get my health back in check as it has taken a hard beating lately. It has been one of the absolute hardest decisions that I have ever had to make, but I do believe that by continuing my education and having a degree in hand (as well as a strong immune system), I will be able to give that much more to the ones I love overseas. I will be able to sustain a career where I will not only be able to support myself- but also my kids in Haiti. This is crucial. With a degree in hand I will be able to work in Canada- but also I will be able to find a decent paying jobs in Haiti so I can be closer to my babies if need be. I am not exactly sure how I am going to be able to stay in one place for awhile.. it is going to take all of my energy... I have been so used to the chaos, the go go go.. Comfort scares me. Complacency scares me. Security scares me- how ironic? .. But I do know that no matter what- finishing my education and strengthening my health will be worth it. I have great staff in Haiti that are currently caring for my kids and I am hoping to continue to have volunteers going to visit to do check ups for me when I am unable to do it myself. I know that this decision will be hard for some of my supporters to comprehend.. trust me, its hard for me to comprehend as well.. but it is what I currently need to do. We still need all the help we can get with the orphanage and would truly appreciate your support. If anyone wishes to donate, sponsor a child, or volunteer please contact me via email emily@himeforhelp.org or visit our website www.himeforhelp.org

Thank you for reading and sharing !

Dear Philippines ...

Dear Philippines,

Where do I begin ? I am currently laying on a mat beneath the stars with my best friend listening to the dogs bark, the roosters crow, and the Mosquitos buzzing around my head. It's hard for me to sleep tonight. After driving through your tattered streets and witnessing the devastation before me - fallen trees, ruined homes, ruined lives, broken dreams, and a mass amount of people looking up to the skies and calling out for answers- my heart slowly sinks. It sinks because I can see the pain in your eyes. I can feel it when you look at me, when you tell me your stories, when you show me what is left of your past and what was supposed to be your futures. I came here without plans and without answers. I came here not knowing how to help .. & to some degree I still don't. What I can say is that you are remarkably resilient. The love and strength you have is inspiring. EVERY single person that I have encountered despite the hurt & losses that they are facing, has been unbelievably kind, gentle, humble, and hopeful. Tomorrow we are headed to yet another island that has been ripped apart. And I already know that it is going to be just as heart wrenching as the others, but your faith and your positive spirits will bring light into the darkness once again. "We are roofless, We are homeless, but we are not hopeless" .. Bangon Philippines !!!!!!! (Raise again Philippines)



If you wish to support the cause we are in desperate need or medical supplies as well as tarps and temporary shelters. Please donate on our website www.himeforhelp.org or through my paypal account emily@himeforhelp.org

Time to Go...

Well, this is my last night in the Philippines for now ... & I am sad beyond belief .. Not only because I will miss these beautiful people, spending my days with babies in my arms and singing with the children, setting up makeshift medical clinics, traveling to remote islands where no aid group had yet reached, distributing food, shoes, and toys, and being inspired and moved by the strength, kindness, and love of the Filipinos.. But also because I once again had to hug my best friend goodbye as she heads home to Ireland. I'm going to miss our deep chats about life, our beliefs, and what we call living- as well as reminiscing on memories from Haiti that we don't often share with others. I will miss your annoying pokes in the face while I'm trying to sleep, your weird faces, singing and dancing with you - even when we don't know the words to the songs, you always saying "wee" and calling me funny names, and I'll definitely miss laughing at you when you fall in quicksand. Life's just not the same when you aren't around sista. I will also miss big Ronnie aka "Papa Bear" and his non stop shenanigans and jokes. I will miss singing our new duet with you - was a pleasure writing with ya. I'll miss your big tough appearance but your soft gentle heart - I saw it shine through many times on this trip. and I will also miss the flowery pink socks inside your army boots . Make it home safe soldiers & hope to see your arses in canada soon. Love to ya both xx

Goodbyes are Never Easy ..

Tonight as I sit beneath the stars with my head torch shinning off these pages I feel a deep sadness that is oh so familiar. It's the type of sadness that many of us humanitarians often feel. It's the type of sadness that is inevitable and unavoidable. It's the sadness of having to say goodbye. We experience this sadness as we leave home and kiss our family and friends goodbye but it's also the sadness when you have to leave a place where you know your work is not yet finished. It is the hurt of saying goodbye to the children and adults that you quickly fell in love with. The ones that captured your heart and gave you a joy you can't quite explain. It's the sadness of leaving an island, or better yet a country that has inspired you and that has taught you so much. Not just about a culture or the kindness and resilient-ness of people, but even more so about yourself. The Philippines has turned away a bitterness that I had felt after Haiti and it has reminded me why I became a humanitarian. It was not a choice- but it is something deeply engraved in my genetic code- it's in my blood. It has it's negatives and positives and sometimes it exposes you to things that are hard to bare but I have come to realize that I am at my absolute fullest - whole hearted- my richest and my happiest when I am helping others, when I am surrounded by "real" life and when I am working in chaos with nothing but a backpack on my back. This is my REALITY. This is what I call LIVING. Living is laying beneath the stars and reminiscing and counting your blessings. It's walking through swamps, sinking in quicksand, being covered in dirt, being eaten alive by Mosquitos, ants, & plenty of other little buggers. Its screaming at the top your lungs when you notice a tarantula chillin beside your bed. It's hearing children laugh as they play beneath the rubble. It's when kids come skipping along and take your hand and beg you to sing to them again as it takes their minds off the current circumstances. It's singing "baby" by Justin Bieber over & over & over again until you actually begin to loathe the song. It's riding around in a little tricycle where a small Filipino boy has to peddle and haul your fat arse around. It's eating army ration packs, suffering from diarrhea without a working toilet and yes- sometimes even without toilet paper. It's when a big NGO looks at you and shakes your hand and thanks you for coming completely on your own and saving a woman (& reaching others) that they were unable to get to. It's when a big tough Irish army man has to borrow your flowery pink socks because we have run out of clean clothes. It's setting up a mobile medical clinic in a small village where over 40 homes have been wiped out and that no aid group has visited and tons of people come out of the wood works and line up in front us to receive treatment. It's handing a child a bag of candy or a pair of shoes and seeing their beautiful faces light up like the 4th of July. It's holding a hand or looking a 75 year old man in the eyes as he explains how he has now lost everything that he has ever worked for because Mother Nature decided to be cruel. It's sharing the pain that they are feeling and although we cannot give them much, we can at least give them a shoulder to lean on. It's exchanging languages and cultural beliefs. It's feeling comfortable with being uncomfortable. Living is caring, loving, learning and reaching out to those in need and reassuring them that they are loved, they are needed, and that we do care. No credentials are needed to do this work- just a beating heart that contains compassion. My days are quickly coming to an end here in the Philippines (only 3 days left) but I will not forget the people that have touched my heart and the lessons that I have learned. And I most definitely will be back !!