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Apr 16, 2009 | Filed under writing and tagged with Haiti, work.

I’ve been back in country for a week now. My body has adjusted. Somewhat.

But my mind is here and there.

I still see the happy brown faces of the children at the orphanage. Happy. Dirty. Eager to learn English. I hear the sing-song prattle of their Kreyol in my mind.

I still see the bustling crowds of brown-skinned people along the streets of Port-au-Prince. I see the woman with the stick, urging the rice-burdened donkey along. The day’s wash balanced on her head. And I see the sparkling Caribbean just beyond the brown fields. The fishing boats. The cell phone towers.

I smell charcoal cooking fires fill the air. Always. Someone has found food to cook. A good thing.

And here. Now. Around me. I see an unfinished manuscript. Half done, in fact. I can’t complain about the other lazy Americans around me, complaining about the lack of work, the economy, the TV show that got canceled, when I won’t even carry my own burden. My ministry. My work.

Ah. Back home. Back to work.

helen

I always got culture shock when I returned to the US from haiti. Never had culture shock when being there. My childhood was too much akin to theirs so I felt very at home in Gonaives.

Apr 18, 2009 @ 9:20 am