Morgan Dibble Has Become Unstuck in Time...

The title is an allusion to the protagonist Billy Pilgrim in the late Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five. So it goes. Although Sunday morning marked the beginning of my final week in Bayonnais, you would think I was just arriving with the plethora of tasks we have yet to finish. Last week we purchased the lumber, rebar, and wiring for the construction of the bunk beds, the termination of the bridge, and the installation of the ceiling fans, respectively. The batteries arrived for the solar power system (for those of you keeping up with that saga) and this weekend I will perform my first “equalization”. A closer look revealed that the sponsor information was not collated correctly with the corresponding pictures and I have spent several hours chasing down very mobile elementary school students. The English classes continue to thrive and the students are anxious to perform a new song for the delegation from Charlotte whose arrival we have also been preparing for. Among the task performed by this group will be the installation of reading lights in all of the rooms of the guest house so that visitors may read in their spare time.

I am sure that many of you have plenty of your own “to-do-lists” and do not need to read another, no matter where it comes from, so I will highlight some of the eccentricities that make Haiti interesting. April marks the beginning of mango season and the people of Cathor are graciously devouring nature’s annual banquet. I was startled the first few times I caught a rustling out of the corner of my eye and realized that it was a young child scaling the high limbs of a tree but after a few weeks that has become commonplace. Contrary to the abundance of mangoes, the bottled water ran out a few weeks ago and I was left drinking soda and a syrupy artificial juice. Eventually, I buckled under pressure from the sweetness and began drinking the local tap water which I found is not only plentiful but more flavorful than boring American H20 (vitamin enriched?). With many of the OFCB staff out of town (or out of the country) and no visitors, our meals have been very unconventional. I used to think “breakfast for dinner” was such a novel idea when I was a child and we were served big sausage links, Belgian waffles, and scrambled eggs at 7:00pm. Waking up first thing in the morning to hot spaghetti and Coca-cola surprisingly does not have the same appeal. “Oatmeal only” and “Saltines for supper” evenings have proved that the Haitian weight-loss program puts Atkins, Weight-Watchers or any other American fad-diet program to shame. The only thing unhealthier than my eating habits may be may hygiene. The cleaning lady took my clothing to be washed and a suspicious rain cycle stifled any chance of drying. I ended up wearing the same t-shirt for several days in a row and I subsequently learned how to create a personal space for myself.

I am going to write about all of the friendships I have made and what an impact this experience has had on me but with five days of hard work and fellowship left, there is no need to get nostalgic yet…

Did Someone Say "Party"?

On Friday, April 27th SMPC will be hosting a "Will Party for Food" evening to raise awareness and support for the efforts of OFCB Ministries. Unlike traditional fundraisers that evoke sympathy and ask for pledges, this event promises to be entertaining, including music, slideshows, and testimonies from returning emissaries. The food is FREE (either mouth watering Caribbean chicken or authentic Haitian-style goat) and 100% of all donations will be used towards a children's food fund. Childcare will be provided.

More information about the event:

When: April 27th 6:30-9:30 P.M.

Where: South Mecklenburg Presbyerterian Church: 8601 Bryant Farms Rd, Charlotte, NC 28277


Who: Anyone who is interested in contributing to the education and nourishment of the students of ECB (Ecole Classique de Bayonnais)

Why: Because by showing interest you can make a difference


Spots are filling quickly! RSVP to:


Mrna Dibble: mrnadibble@aol.com

Judy Nichols: judy5cents@aol.com


**Please indicate how many will be attending and indicate if you would prefer chicken or goat


Merci d'avance!

Over the River and Through the Woods

I must warn you, I now speak a dangerous amount of Creole: dangerous not in the sense that it could be used in any sort of intelligence capacity but because I can be handed the keys to the Toyota pick-up and entrusted to find my way home from the city. Such was the case on Friday morning, not long after our arduous trek to Port au Prince, when a few of the kitchen crew and I made a reconnaissance mission to Gonaives for some much needed groceries. While the girls shopped, “Mano” and I went to his one-room house and watched an antiquated version of The Passions of the Christ on an old portable television connected to a car battery. Anxious to depart for Cathor where I was expected in a conference with the engineers, I asked Mano, who spoke no English, when I could go, to which he kept pointing to his watch: the international sign for “soon”. After the crucifixion, I was told that the time had come, at which point I rendezvoused with Islen and we began our ramble home. Our trip to the market proved only partially successful as we returned with ketchup, Red Bull (for the Evangelists) and five dozen eggs but no ham or cheese. Despite having to navigate through the plentitude of Ra-Ra parades en route, not a single egg broke along the way (a testament to my off-roading prowess).

Where's Waldo for beginners

Although I could probably write a book on Evangelism after the grueling thirty-plus hours of service I endured this week, I would rather post a video and let you pass your own judgment. Highlights included an incitement from Pastor Travis to “stomp on the head of Satan” at which point the congregation became a frenzy; a cacophonous medley of clomping feet and clamorous applause. The worship probably reached its pinnacle Saturday evening when Morgan and the “Institut d’Amelioration Linguistique de Bayonnais” performed “Amazing Grace” in English in front of over two thousand patrons. Sunday morning witnessed a four hour service and there was no relenting that evening when the congregation (sans Morgan) endured another five hours. Comfortable that the parishioners were sated with the Gospel, Reverend James Brown and Pastor Travis Riley left early Monday morning.

The faces of intensity

The void left by the Evangelists was filled with a much needed relaxation. The cool brought on by the April showers provided the perfect setting for a day filled with books and light conversation with my peers as they prepared for their return to school. Outside my window eager children threw rocks at ripe mangoes, like milk bottles at a fair, and rewarded themselves with a well earned treat. Yesterday afternoon was particularly pleasant as Jacques Elies and I strolled down the road to the unfinished bridge where we met some 10-year old girls who had spent the better part of their day hauling sand and rock for the termination of the project. The smiling faces were happy for the reprieve from work and we sat on the ledge of the bridge throwing stones in the river and talking about our families. Today it is back to work as usual as we continue to work with the generator, the sponsor information, the drip irrigation, the evening English classes, and as we prepare a warm welcome for Tom Harman and Light of Christ United Methodist Church who will arrive a week from today.

It looks like I am dressed inversely

The Port au Prince and the Pauper

Extended stays in foreign countries occasionally avail themselves unique opportunities that would otherwise be impossible. On Wednesday evening, I found myself people-watching behind the iron bars of a window in an austere apartment in Port au Prince, the sliver of a white face hidden beneath a linen curtain. My inconspicuous vantage point allowed me an opportunity to witness unadulterated life in Haiti’s capital: children playing soccer amid the rubble of concrete and discarded plastic; women in rags peddling an indistinct stew on smoldering embers; colorful "tap taps" (overburdened pick-ups) weaving through the crowds and depositing passengers without stopping. The surrounding air was saturated with the smell of poverty: thick plumes of exhaust, smoke from burning charcoal, and stagnant water collected in trenches along the street. Equally ubiquitous were the boisterous noises that typify life in the city: the relentless honking of horns, the emaciated dogs fighting desperately for scraps, and the elevated Haitian voices unsuccessfully haggling over prices they cannot afford.

A Creole sign reads "No Vacancy"

Unlike previous trips to the capital that entailed an evening spent behind the well fortified walls of a missionary guest house (with a pool), I spent Wednesday night in a dormitory afoot the cinder block tenements that line the hills of the Carrefour Feuille district of Port au Prince. My hosts, mostly college students my age, asked that I remain out of sight, lest I solicit an uninvited visitor in the middle of the night; needless to say, I complied. Rather than spend the evening brooding on what could be described as mild discomfort, I stayed up late into the night talking to my roommates about the future of Haiti. The pupils studying "living languages" (French, Spanish and English) were eager to translate as the agronomists, biologists, information scientist and dentist shared the breadth of their vision over the dim light of an oil lamp. The consensus arrived at by the students was simple: "life in Haiti is difficult but we have the power to change that". Of course the ambience was not entirely somber; my friends could not hide their smiles when they began talking about their girlfriends or their favorite type of music.

A warm welcome from my loved ones

Thursday was unsurprisingly full of surprises. Pastor Travis arrived from Sanford, North Carolina sans luggage and we spent the better part of our morning tracking a suitcase and a garment bag. (Note: demanding a clothing allowance in Port au Prince’s primeval airport is futile.) Our countless necessary errands (and a few unnecessary ones) gave us an extensive tour of the city, from the Royal Palace and the National Cathedral, to Petionville and the infamous Cite Soleil. The day that began at 4:30 a.m. with quarreling merchants outside of my window ended with a double serving of Evangelism and perhaps the soundest sleep I have had in years.

(David DISCLAIMER: My trip to PAP was atypical of a routine mission trip to Bayonnais. PLEASE do not be frightened by the idea that you will spend any time in Port au Prince. If you do find yourself in Haiti's capital, make the best of your time there! The hardships found outside of one's comfort zone are ephemeral but the experiences endured last forever. You will not be endagered, I promise.)

Haiti's Got a Brand New Bag...

On Saturday night we received the Reverend James Brown of Orlando, Florida for what will be his seventh visit to Bayonnais. As Chief Officer and Overseer of the organization “Voice of Christ Worldwide Ministries & Missions, Inc.”, Mr. Brown travels around the world preaching the word of God to audiences from the most secluded tribes of southern India to the solemn shanty towns of western Africa. The aim of this week’s “Evangelical Crusade” will be to save the Christians of Bayonnais that have deviated from the righteous path and to expose those who still worship voodoo to the power of Jesus Christ. Reverend Brown’s style at the pulpit (and amid the pews) is characterized by an unprecedented fervor and conviction. His application of Biblical aphorisms coupled with anecdotes from his own personal adventures never fails to excite the crowd. The Reverend’s benediction is complimented by mellifluous performances by the mixed choir and an energetic participation from the congregation which reflect the true ethos of the Haitian people. On his first day, Brown was able to use his healing powers to cure four members of the community that had been suffering from involuntary aphasia, demonstrating to the people the will of God.

At the risk of sounding blasphemous (and I am not afraid to take that risk), I am somewhat skeptical of the authenticity of the new converts. To me, it is not enough to see people clapping and wailing the name of Jesus Christ when only weeks before it was a voodoo spirit they were venerating. Likewise, scare tactics such as “accept Jesus Christ or burn for eternity” will only win over the most craven of worshipers. True adoration should come from the principles of Christianity found in the Bible and in Bayonnais: compassion, equality, respect, integrity, and tolerance, to name a few. To a people that have no idea about the history of Abraham’s people and cannot identify Nazareth (let alone Israel) on a map, it is the aforementioned virtues which will lead to real change in Haiti.

Tidbits

For the past few days we have been experiencing some torrential downpours. The bad news is, everything is canceled. Or is that the good news? Lazy afternoons in the guesthouse consist of rehearsing languages, reading Animal Farm, Catch-22 or something by Shakespeare, and listening to Caribbean radio as the rain trickles off the tin roof. The picture above is of Rosena, the cook, and I. Because most Americans melt in the rain, Rosena came to summon me for lunch wearing a giant sheet-cloak to shelter me en route to the kitchen. The acronym on my shirt stands for our organization: "Organization de la Force Chretien de Bayonnais".





The second picture features Mark Alcius, Eddy Saint Louis and I outside the market this morning (I am the one in the middle). Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead in a cowboy hat but, then again, normally I wouldn't find myself in a random Catholic church adjacent the market listening to the three hour inauguration of the new Mayor of Bayonnais (Artibonite, Haiti) spoken entirely in Creole. Mark and Eddy seem to think it is a good look on me but we'll see if it sticks when I get back to the states.

Help... Anyone?

I have been in Bayonnais almost two complete months and I continue to be baffled by the nuances of quotidian Haitian life. Yesterday evening, I asked my roommate where I could purchase a soda because I wanted to indulge in something other than bottled water. Jacques Elie told me that he was busy and that he would show me tomorrow, a response that I accepted, until he arrived at the office a few minutes later presenting me with a Nalgene bottle full of Coke. While this may appear to be a considerate gesture on the part of Jacques Elie, it does not solve the greater question: Where can I buy a Coke? I watch the school bus unload cases of Fanta, Sprite, and Coca-Cola everyday and I know that the dealer cannot be far. Yet the Haitians would rather keep me on my toes by not divulging the location of the mysterious soda vendor.

The confusion does not stop with procurement either. Despite the modest amount of Creole I have learned (“Morgan hungry”, “Morgan sleepy”, etc.) and the extensive amount of English taught in the afternoons and evenings, there is still a formidable language barrier. The Creole expression for “What are you doing?” is “Kisa wap fe?” and the answer, unlike the English “nothing” is “anye” (anything). Too often, the students will reply to me that at 5:00, they will be “anywhere… doing anything”. Thank you for your clarity. There also seems to be some misunderstanding with affirmation and negation. One of the student’s sponsorship forms reads, under the title of “favorite activities”: “I like to jump rope neither at home nor at the school.” Either this child has difficulty with “either” and “neither” or he wants to make it absolutely clear that he does not want jumping rope to be a stipulation for his sponsorship.

Real men jump rope.