Stuck in the Middle (with you)

As I am being lead behind a building to a group of small houses with tin roofs, I can’t help but think “man I wish I had a GoPro on so everyone back home could see this”- so they could see how people get by with so little.  As we reach our destination the young girl says “you pee there”.  She points to a small drainage pipe sticking out of the ground.  She shuts the tin door that has multiple large holes in it and leaves me to do my business.  Needless to say, I suck at the whole squatting and peeing over a hole thing.  I’m out of practice.  I’m not sure which collected more urine, my feet or the drainage pipe.  Although most would be disgusted, I couldn’t help but smile and miss this life.  

People have often asked what the hardest part of all of this is for me.  Surprisingly it’s not the constant poverty or need that I am faced with while in Haiti. The hardest part is being stuck between two very different worlds.  The world of consumerism and fast paced living and the world of survival and island time. The world where it doesn’t matter if you pee on your feet and hop in the car and the world where “Ew omg you aren’t getting in my vehicle like that”.  There’s a constant tug between the country I left, and the country I am currently living in.  Both have become an integral part of who I am, and I often find myself stuck in the middle between the two.  

In Haiti, the people that surround me are in survival mode.  The need is so great here and it doesn’t stop after you help a couple of people.  It’s never ending.  It’s always in front of you.  It’s hard for people who haven’t experienced this type of life to fully understand it or grasp it.  It’s hard coming from a country full of resources to a country where the government rarely (next to never) offers support to those in need.   There’s no programs here to offer assistance to families who are homeless or in need of food.  They can’t just simply sign up and be guaranteed enough income each month to at least feed their children.  Here, you can give and give until you have nothing left.  After selling all of my belongings and giving up university and the life I had in Canada to move to a developing country, I felt like a vagabond.  But here, you are the government program- you are looked at as the wealthy blan who is going to take away their problems.  You are the person who’s going to make their lives better.  They look at you with hope.  And sometimes that pressure can be a lot to take.  Back home, you are looked at as the annoying humanitarian that is constantly asking for more and more support from their community.  

How do you choose who to help? How do you decide when to stop? How do you go back to your home country and see the consumerism (that you yourself partake in) and still sleep at night? How do you swallow the pill that you’ve won the lottery of life while those you love in developing countries are laying down tonight with pangs of hunger in their bellies? It’s all so hard.  It’s something that you can never just shake.  I’ve had to learn to try to put it in the back of my mind.  I’ve had to learn how to try to shut it off.  I have to shut it off in order to continue to live in my developing home country.  I have to trick my brain into saying “it’s okay to consume.  It’s okay to buy all of these Christmas gifts and spend all of this money on decorations to make my home look pretty”.  And although I convince myself of these things at times... the guilt never truly escapes me.   I still sit and wonder how our worlds became so divided.  

I think back to families we have helped where the kids were literally eating mud and then I think of my own son who wants cookies every 5 minutes.  I think of how easy it is for me to just walk over to our cupboard and give him one when he’s hungry.  Or how easy it is for me to walk over to the sink and give him a glass of water when he’s thirsty.  Then I think of the mom who has to walk miles in her bare feet to a river to take a small bucket of water for her children.  I think of the bucket she has to carry back on her head and the game of risk she takes by giving her child that water not knowing what illnesses or infections may lie ahead after drinking it.  I think of my son being sick and how immediately I can take him to the hospital.  I don’t have to think it over it’s just second nature to take him in right away when his fever is over 100.  I think of how when I’m here and faced with an illness I can just jump on a plane and head home to our incredible healthcare system.   And then I think of the mother who has her dying child in her arms and decides there’s nothing she can do except watch her baby suffer.  She doesn’t have money for transportation to the hospital and she definitely doesn’t have enough money to pay for the hospital bill and continue to feed her other children.  So, she decides that her baby will have to die.  Can you imagine that? Then I think to all of the new clothes I just bought back home.  I think of how I’ve been “keeping up with the joneses” and how jealousy and greed easily come to me when I’m in Canada. I think of how much I now love the comforts of home and how I’ve become comfortable when I used to lead a life of being comfortable being uncomfortable (if that makes any sense at all).  I think of all that my Haitian friends have been through, and yet how much faith, hope, and positivity they withhold.  I look back at my friends in Canada and how negative and angry they become because someone simply cut them off or because the food they were served in a 5 star restaurant wasn’t cooked to perfection.  I look at how these trivial things can completely upset our day and how easily we lose hope and positivity.  It’s actually quite mind blowing.  

For any of you who have recently watched the Netflix special “Bird Box”.  The only thing I can think of after watching it is how it’s such a metaphor for the real world.  If you remove your blindfold off and are exposed to  the rawness and reality of our world it can consume you.  It takes your life and you cant go back from it.  You can’t un-see it.  

I recently read another Missionaries blog post about this same subject (which actually inspired me to write this) and what she said hit me right in the heart strings: 

“Those of us in the middle carry a pervasive struggle in our hearts.  You can’t really articulate it because it’s a kind of schizophrenic leap between guilt and jealousy, gratitude and shame, pitying others and pitying yourself, anger and sorrow, generosity and greed, a bleeding heart and a shocking coldness due to compassion fatigue.  It is a fight and we get tired of living in it often.  We want to enjoy moments and people and things, but it isn’t that simple anymore.  Our highs and delights are tempered, and your pains and sorrows often feel unworthy.” 

So, I remain stuck in the middle (with you- sorry I had too).  Learning to accept my two very different worlds that offer very different perspectives.  I remain stuck battling between abundance and need.  A battle that I will never win.  However, I know that I am blessed to be a part of this battle.  I am blessed with the opportunity to learn from both worlds.  To be able to step back and see life from one perspective or the other.  To have my heart in two places at once.  

An Emotional Return

As I sit in my dimly lit room feeling exhaustion taking over me, I can’t help but reflect on not only this whirlwind of a day, but of the last seven years.  

As we began our decent into Haiti, I couldn’t help but be overcome with emotions.  First, tears filled my eyes as I whispered “home”.  A place where I found myself.  A place that encompasses a large part of one of my most important organs (yes, my heart).  I felt a sense of pride- even though I am in no way Haitian, I still feel a sense of pride for “my” second country.  My son is part Haitian.  Some of my in laws are Haitian.  And my second family (my kids and staff) are Haitian.  This country is a big part of me.  I can’t even put into words the exact feelings I felt, but I felt whole.  I felt a sense of relief that I am finally back.  The smells, the noises, the hustle and bustle of the streets, the distinct things that make Haiti, Haiti.  

As I opened my mouth to greet people, creole just came tumbling out of me.  It was like word vomit.  I haven’t spoken it in almost a year and to be honest I thought I wouldn’t be able to still speak it flutently.  “If you don’t use it, you lose it”.  However, that was not the case.  It felt so good to be speaking creole again.  To be giving high fives and saying “Sak pase” (what’s up) to all of the oh so familiar faces at the airport.  As we drove to the home, I directed the way.  There’s special markings on walls or small little shops that I recognized and how I first learnt my way of the streets in port au prince.  As we bumped down our gravel road my heart once again filled up with an indescribable joy.  Neighbours waved to me and some of the kids ran to tell other kids and to round them up to stop by our house for a visit.  As I pulled into the gates all of my babes were standing there jumping up and down yelling “Emily, Emily, emily”.   Hugging them was so fulfilling.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  

The staff and I ended up sorting gifts and it was amazing to see how many gifts each child got! Thankfully spirit airlines didn’t even charge me for my overweight baggage (I’m not sure how I managed to score that one- it never happens!) so I was able to bring pretty much every single toy that was donated!  The kids all patiently waited downstairs as we made up their little piles.  Finally once we were done, we called them upstairs on a scavenger hunt.  They were so excited and there were screams of excitement as they lifted up their gifts.  This moment made my holidays complete.  

After we finished opening gifts I decided I wanted to do something special for my older boys.  One thing I find very important for our kids, is for them to see the beauty of their country and learn the incredible history behind it.  So, 7 of us loaded into a little Jeep and headed up to the top of a mountain where we went to Furcy.  It was a long bumpy ride and some crazy mountain side roads, but it was so amazing.  We stopped for pictures every few metres and the boys enjoyed some Haitian Griot (pork) at a roadside stand.  They couldn’t believe that they were still in Haiti when we made it to the top.  They told me I took them to Canada because it was so cold up there.  There was massive trees surrounding us and beautiful views of the mountains.  It was so nice to spend quality time with these little boys that have now started turning into men.  We all ate dinner together at the top of the mountain and enjoyed each other’s company and laughter.  

Now back to reminiscing on the past seven years.  I never could have dreamt up this life.    I never could have imagined that somehow I’d end up in Haiti and it becoming such a big part of me.  Nor did I think I’d have a family here or friends that are the type that last a lifetime.  I didn’t plan for any of it, it just happened.  I felt called to be here and once I started caring for these children, I couldn’t stop.  They became one of the biggest blessings in my life.  They’ve taught me so much about life, about resiliency, about faith and hope and survival.  They taught me who I was.  They made me a mother at the young age of 19 when I had no idea what the hell I was doing.  They forced me to step out of my comfort zone and to live in conditions I never thought I could and to speak a foreign language fluently within 3 short months.  They showed me what true strength and courage was.  They taught me unconditional love.  

When I started out on this journey, I had no idea of the hardships I’d endure.  I didn’t know I’d have days where I’d stare death in the face, where I’d lose friends and have to bury children whom I loved.  I didn’t know I’d have to watch innocent people suffer or watch children almost disintegrate due to malnutrition.  I didn’t know I’d be robbed and threatened or any of the rest of it.  We can never really know what lies ahead and the obstacles we will be presented with.  We can only know that we will experience these hardships.  We can do our best to prepare our minds, bodies, and hearts for these challenges but we will never truly understand them until we are in them.  Most of all, I didn’t know that one day I’d be choosing between two families and having to split my time and heart.  And although some days it’s been almost unbearable, I am so damn thankful I get the opportunity.  Who’s lucky enough to have so many family truly I ncredible family members in so many places? Me.  And although it tears my heart strings being away from one or the other, I know that I am truly blessed.  

I know that I was given a once in a lifetime opportunity and I also know that is my responsibility to use it to its fullest; to give every last ounce of energy I have until I collapse at the end of it.  All the hardships, all the tears, all the hard work put into it will be looked back upon as the best thing I’ve ever done (it already is).   And it won’t be because I enjoyed every moment of it, or because I impacted lives, but because I gave it everything I had, even when I didn’t think I could and especially when I didn’t want too. There’s been days when I’ve been so close to just throwing in the towel.  So many times I actually told people “I’m done”.   Haiti is a very difficult country to work in, and it can take the best of you if you let it.  But it can also allow you to be your best self.  It can be the most rewarding thing in the world.  Thankfully I’ve had an incredible support network and board members who have stood behind me and picked me up time and time again when I lost my footing or lost my hope.  So to anyone out there chasing a dream and who’s tired and exhausted and feels like they have nothing else to give.  Keep going.  Keep running. If you run until you have nothing left to give, keep going anyways.  Cry and pray and work and sweat and plead until you are so drained that all you can do is hit your knees.  Come out of it proud of what you’ve done, because this experience will bless the rest of your life.  Just as it’s done mine.  I am so thankful for all of those who have continued to support me and who haven’t allowed me to call it quits.  Because if I did, I wouldn’t be spending my evening hugging and kissing these beautiful children who truly make me feel whole.  

Thank you so much to the Bartlett family for making this trip possible and to all of you that donated funds and toys to ensure that our children had a Christmas!  I thank you from the bottom of my heart 💗  

A Little Taste of Home..

I left Haiti last December in preparation to give birth to my baby boy, Beau.  I had planned to come to Canada for his birth, stay a couple of months, and then head back "home" to Haiti.  However, after arriving in Canada, plans quickly changed.  Ryan and I started thinking of the life we wanted for our son.  We realized that if we went back to Haiti not only would we have no help/little help or anyone to ask for advice, but our son would be estranged from his family here in Canada and in the United States.  He would not get to grow up playing hockey or trick or treating at Halloween.  He would not have access to great medical care or education (at least nothing that is affordable for us at the moment).  So many things came to light and I realized just how fortunate I have been to grown up in North America.  We are surrounded by unlimited resources and so many opportunities. So my thought process was "is it fair for me to strip my child away from this? Is it fair for me to decide to bring him into a life that I chose to live, once I was old enough to make my own decisions?"  It was my choice to move to Haiti.  It was my decision to live with less and be far from my family.  It was my choice to miss birthdays, funerals, weddings, etc to live out MY calling.  But would this be my sons calling as well?

It has been the best yet toughest year of my life.  It's always hard making big decisions but now even more so than ever as I must make these big decisions for someone other than myself.  It's not as simple as just following my heart anymore.  It is no longer about me and what I want, it is about this little boy who has me completely wrapped around his finger.

However, on the other side, I also have 15 children who I love with all of my heart and who are depending on me too.  I have a country which I have called home and where I have loved and lost so many.  This is the longest I have ever been away from them.  I had planned to take trips back and forth but what I didn't realize is that breast feeding kind of makes that hard.  Plus balancing work and starting a new business. And then the thought of being away from Beau for a week is almost unbearable.  All of the little things that I would miss.   I would love to bring Beau with me, but due to the current political unrest and him being too young to receive some of the vaccinations, I also do not want to expose him to any dangerous situations or illnesses.

I feel stuck between two lives.  And my heart breaks every single day.

I miss waking up to so many little ones jumping on my bed and taking them on beach days.  I miss driving up the winding mountainous roads and the breathtaking scenery.  I miss the simplicity of life there and the focus on human contact and relationships versus materialistic items.  Although I have family and friends here, I often feel alone.  I've been struggling to try and figure out why I feel this way.  And then I realized its simple... Every where you go in Haiti, you are constantly surrounded by people. You are greeted with kisses on the cheek, someone taking your hand, someone always asking you how you are.  Your neighbours are always checking in on you, bringing you lemon juice and soup when you fall ill.  You have real conversations.  Not conversations about what things you bought when you went shopping last week.. and you don't have the materialistic items to distract you.  You talk.  You enjoy each others company.  You sit on the side of a mountain with a family that has nothing more than four mud walls around them, and you are the happiest you have ever been.  I miss it terribly.  But yet, I also miss Canada when I am there.  So what do I do?

I don't know the answer to that.  I am not sure if I ever will.  No matter what decision I make I will always be missing someone.  There is no simple solution.  Duct tape can't fix this one.  I've remained silent over the last few months... suffering quietly... trying to figure out this balance of who I used to be and who I am now and what that means for me and my family's future.  I've been feeling guilt for wanting to go to Haiti because that means leaving my son at home, and I've also been feeling guilty for being here in Canada and being away from my kids in Haiti.  I've distanced myself from fundraising and posting updates as its been too painful for me to talk about Haiti or the kids.  And the guilt from that consumes me as well.

At this moment, I've decided that although it will be extremely difficult to leave my son for an entire week, I will return to Haiti at the beginning of March to try to ease some of this burden I have been feeling.  My friend & coworker Lacey will also be joining me.  I can't wait to finally hug and squeeze all the littles that I've been missing so much.  I can't wait to laugh and to catch up with our staff members and see the progress that has been made.  It has been over a year since I have seen them.  I can only imagine how they have grown and how they've changed.  It saddens me to know that I have missed out on all of the new things our toddlers are doing and all of the challenges our teens have faced.  Skype and WhatsApp can only tell/show so much.  But I am grateful for our dedicated staff and nannies who have continued to care for our children and keep me updated day to day.  I will miss my son terribly and will likely cry every day that I am gone.. however.. it comforts me to know that he is in good hands here with his very supportive and understanding Dad, and with my family to assist him.  I know this is something I must do.   I know that my heart needs this more than ever.  Haiti has become such an integral part of who I am.  I need a little taste of "home".  I need a little taste of "me".

Updates from Haiti!

As I sit here staring at my large screen television and my enjoying my air conditioned home, my heart can't help but feel guilt and long for my children in Haiti.  This is the longest I have ever gone without hearing their giggles and being smothered in their hugs and kisses.  It is hard.  I keep telling myself that I need to be home right now, I need to stay put, I need to think about what is best for my son and wait until he is vaccinated before visiting.. but that doesn't stop the longing.  My heart physically hurts.  There is not a minute that goes by that I don't wonder what they are doing, how they are doing, and when I will be able to see them again.

Thank goodness for smartphones and being able to communicate with staff members and my older children.  It warms my heart to get voice messages through whatsapp or to receive photos of the little ones learning new things.  Emilio has been sick lately with diarrhea but after a quick visit to the hospital and some antibiotics he is on the mend.  Norens also has not been himself lately, he is getting severe headaches and is having trouble seeing.  Norens constantly blinks.  I had taken him to an American doctor in Haiti who examined his eyes, we were told that he could see perfectly clear.  We were then referred to a neurologist who told us that Norens has a neurological problem that is causing his eyes to constantly blink.  We were told that we could send him to the US to undergo a surgical procedure to try and correct it, however, after hearing that the procedure would come with many risks and learning that his condition was actually was not harming Norens in anyway, we decided to not pursue that route.  Norens has been to the doctors again, and we are now waiting on more results.

The kids are all growing so much and getting so tall! We had friends recently visit the kids and check up on things and they were able to send me tons of photos :)

Fundraising has been tough lately.  Since March when I gave birth to my son, it has been difficult for me to keep up with social media and hosting fundraising events.  We have begun to fall behind on monthly expenses.  We are needing more child sponsors, more monthly donors, more volunteers, more help fundraising.. the list goes on.  Next month we will be opening up one of our board meetings to those who wish to learn more about Hime For Help and who have a desire to get involved with the work we do.  We would like to create a strong team to help with implementing fundraising ideas and growing our organization.  If you are interested in joining our committee please email me at emily@himeforhelp.org to find out more!

Four Years Later

Not so long ago (four years to be exact) I was living in the countryside of Haiti, spending my nights rocking babies and writing blogs with hopes and dreams for the future. 

Dreams of this crazy notion that maybe, just maybe, we could change even just one life, and give these children hope and a place where they could feel safe and loved. 

At first, I had no clue what kind of responsibility I was taking on.  Not only did I lack the funds to see this vision through, but I had never attempted to do ANYTHING of this magnitude ever before in my life. Despite all of the odds that were against me, and all of the obstacles that I knew would be ahead, there was a burning in my soul, something telling me that I needed to do this, and that if I simply walked away from these children, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

2012 began a journey that had no destination or end in sight.  I knew that I was where I was meant to be at that moment in time, but I had no idea where we would end up or how things would play out.  I didn't know how I would continue to care for these children that I had just committed to providing for.  This was not what I had envisioned when I first came to Haiti.  I never imagined myself doing this, I was never one who fantasized about starting a non-profit or a Children's Home, let alone in Haiti.  This was not in my plans.  

I was just someone who said 'yes'.  

With that 'yes' have come many challenges and hardships along the way.  I learned more lessons than I probably should have learned at the age of nineteen, but each lesson made me stronger and wiser.  I was naive, but that quickly began to diminish overtime.  Within the first few months I was exposed to corruption like I never could have imagined.  I was taken advantage of more times than I can count, by both people in our community as well as government officials.  It was discouraging and disheartening.  There were so many nights when I cried myself to sleep telling myself that I was done, that I was going home, that I couldn't do this... but then each morning I would wake up to these beautiful smiling children who forced me to realize that I could not simply just give up on them.   They depended on me now.  How could I walk away from children who had already been let down so many times before? Not only by people close to them, but by their society and their government.  How could I tell them that I wasn't strong enough to do this, when they were strong enough to survive through unimaginable struggles and trauma?... I couldn't.  They had already won over my heart, and with every bone in my body, I knew I would fight to keep them together and to provide for them the best that I could.  

Fast forward to four years later.  We are no longer living in the countryside in a small tiny home with no electricity, appliances, or furniture.  We have a nice large home in Port au Prince where we receive electricity occasionally, we have a fridge, stove, car, toy room, lots of bunk beds, furniture, our own desks, four bathrooms, an office, kitchen, table, and chairs! We no longer have just one nanny- we have multiple and we also have a nurse, cook, director, laundry ladies, janitor, security guard, social worker, etc.  Our kids attend great schools and even go to dance class.  Although we still struggle financially, and it is stressful trying to continuously fundraise, we make do with what we have.  Sometimes you don't even realize how much has been accomplished until you step away, sit back and reflect on the years gone by.  An overwhelming sensation just came over me thinking back to my first few months.  I went to Haiti with $500 in the bank and with no clue how to run a non-profit, let alone a home full of children! I could not have made it through without the support of so many generous people around the world.  So many people, people who I had never even met, contacted me on social media, donated money, sent words of encouragement, came to visit me and the kids, shared our story, and gave me reassurance that I could do this...YOU gave me the strength to keep going in my greatest moments of weakness.  I am so fortunate and so blessed to know so many incredible people.  I am forever grateful for each and every supporter that we have had over the years.  

Now, also four years later, instead of being in Haiti and rocking one of the babies in our home to sleep, I am back in Canada in my own home, rocking my newborn son to sleep.  These four years have been the best four years of my life.  So much has happened, so much is still happening, and I can't wait to sit back and reflect in another four years from now.  I can only hope that we can continue to improve the conditions in our home and continue to provide our children with more and more opportunities.  They are the future of Haiti.  They are going to "be the change".