My time in Haiti is already flying by! I still cannot believe that I get to be in this beautiful place. I look around at the scenery and the people around me, and I am in wonder that I get to live this adventure. I sweat a lot during the days, but the evenings have been relatively cool and breezy.

One of the other missionaries in my apartment said that in Haiti, “The days are long but the months are fast.” That is my experience so far. The afternoons especially seem to stretch out like molasses in the heat… But, to know I am already a month in, with only 11 more ahead, is insane!

This past week was busy. A secondary role I have here will be working with the local EKS program, (CHE-Community Health Evangelism in English). Last week, my roommate Sam and I attended/helped to host a four-day training for our EKS group, with guest speakers who had traveled from Cap Haitian. This meant four days of training in Creole, with a translator sitting between Sam and I, giving us constant summaries and answering our questions.

On Friday, I rode back with the trainers to Port Au Prince, where I was able to spend two days at the guest house with Grace, who is here doing a 3-month photography internship. We accompanied a team into Cite Soleil on Saturday for a half day of water truck and visiting elders with the pastors of Hope Church.

During my two days away, I enjoyed what solitude and anonymity I could. I napped in front of a fan at the guest house and no one knew or cared where I was for a solid hour. Of the challenges I find living here, some of the most difficult have been feeling I am always on display and having little independence. So, when the opportunity comes for alone time, this introvert takes it.

I was also blessed to get to do some of the touristy things teams do on a typical week-long trip. I swam in the pool at the Elite Hotel, just up the hill from the guest house. I got to have a fancy coffee drink at Papillon. I got to go to Wahoo Beach with the American teams and several of the other missionaries who live here. We even had a pretty typical experience when a tire blew out on our drive up to the beach and we spent part of the afternoon in the shade on the side of the road waiting for a spare to be driven out to us.

Today, Sam and I walked down (but still somehow mostly uphill) to visit one of our elders who has been ill and missing church. He uses a prosthetic leg and has trouble with infections and open sores. Sam cleaned his wound, and we were pleased to see him feeling better and in good spirits. He has the sweetest demeanor, an instant friend to those around him. I have met him on a few occasions, but he is always a joy to be near. I gave him an ibuprofen, a cookie and a kiss, and I will be happy to hike the rocky terrain so we can see him again tomorrow.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” Colossians 3:12

I still feel like an observer here. I’m doing my best to coordinate email requests from my volunteer American coworkers and actionable steps for my Haitian coworkers among the daily emergencies and disruptions here.

Yesterday I didn’t accomplish much. I tried to locate an extra commode for a woman who has trouble getting down the stairs of her home, and we thought there might be one in the containers. The “containers” are shipping containers that double as locked storage units for all our school, clinic, and orphanage inventory: everything from medical supplies to musical instruments. I saw one of the larger cockroaches I’ve seen here, but no commode.

I met the sweet grandbaby of one of our elders. Grandma brought him up here to see what we might be able to do to support her as she is taking him into her home. He is a great-grand nephew who was abandoned by his parents. Abandoned babies is a reality of daily life here.

We made some progress toward completing a housing project that has been in the works for several months. It isn’t me making the progress; rather, I get to be witness to and participant in exciting things happening here.

There is a sign on the administrator’s door here in both Creole and English: “Knock and Enter.” This has felt strange for me as a timid Minnesotan, but you knock and enter. There is no waiting for a “Come in!” or a “Wi?” Just knock and enter. If there is a meeting or phone call in progress, you may be told to wait, but you don’t know until after you enter. If no one is there, the door is locked.

It seems that this is how my projects also must proceed; walk into the middle of things and see what can be done once you are there. Knock, enter.

Today I get to go on some elder visits with an American team who is down here for the week. We show up to our elders’ homes, largely unannounced. We don’t really even knock. We just enter. And then we get to fellowship and serve.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” -Matthew 7:7

This morning I had coffee on my neighbor’s porch (which I invited myself to) because my own apartment was beginning to feel like a prison. I’m adjusting to the confines of living in an unfamiliar community with strict but somehow loosely defined guidelines of where I can be and when. I miss my independence, as I’ve only left the compound a few times over the past couple weeks, and even within the compound, I’m daily feeling the struggle of partial- and mis-communications. For someone used to doing what I want when I want, this is an entirely foreign lifestyle.

This newfound captivity was especially felt earlier this week when I experienced my first riot lockdown. There were scheduled protests nearby, and while we thankfully didn’t experience any protests here, precautions were evident everywhere. The school and clinic were shutdown, roads were closed, we were grounded-unable to leave, and armed guards were stationed within our gates.

The pace is different here. Progress is difficult to measure; the polar opposite of my former job, where progress is calculated daily, reports are printed and tasks checked and re-checked off of lists. Here, progress is having the right conversation with the right person who may or may not carry that information onto the person who needs it. Here, progress is thinking through innovative solutions or understanding one more Creole phrase. Here, progress isn’t the most important measure of time.

This morning, frustrated and a little bored, I sat on my neighbor’s porch reading a book and drinking coffee, trusting with all my heart that I am where I am meant to be, even though the feelings don’t always match the conviction. And then things went from 0-60 in the blink of an eye because the pace is different here!

I learned that one of our elders was in the clinic and not doing well. I was rushed to his bedside by Vania, my Haitian coworker, and I held his hand for a few moments, unable to think of anything helpful to say in Creole. He was writhing in pain from an infected catheter. Just as quickly, I was whisked out of the room and informed that Vania would be accompanying him to a doctor in Port-Au-Prince where he would likely need surgery.

While making phonecalls and sending emails, trying to figure out how and if we could access funds for emergency medical procedures, two teams of Americans pulled up the hill into Grace Village, lunch was served and my day was pretty much gone in a blur after that.

I got to jump onto one of the team’s taptaps and go out and visit a few elders with them, my favorite part of being here so far! And I wrapped up the afternoon with delicious fried plantains and pork at Fleri with several of my co-missionaries.

Tomorrow could be a constant running kind of day. Or it might feel like a waste of time. It might be both or neither. Again, progress isn’t the most important measure of time here.

“Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?” James 2:5

Haiti is not a kind place. The heat is unforgiving, traffic is nuts, the dust and humidity makes my hair comically unmanageable, the terrain is rough, and the people are brutally honest. They tend to be direct and loud; no passive-aggressiveness here! It’s my experience that most Haitians were not taught that it is impolite to stare, and their rules of politeness are entirely different than I am used to anyway. The children can be especially cruel, to each other and to outsiders.

I knew this moving here. I am regularly called fat and ugly and probably much worse, but language barriers work in my favor sometimes. Earlier today a pre-teen girl with limited English sitting next to me suddenly said, “Stand up! So I can look at you!”

I am a big white freak show to many, but as I get to know more people, I am becoming “Kah-tee” more and more often and not just “Blanc”-the Haitian (not very nice) default word for a white person. This morning at church, I was able to greet at least a few people by names, and their response was hugs, kisses, smiles and pleasantries that I understood a few words of!

But two moments of kindness have especially impacted me in the last two days. Yesterday, I was able to go on a few elder visits with a Healing Haiti team from Illinois. One of the elders has a teenage granddaughter I’ve been slowly attempting to find out more about. She doesn’t speak or engage with anyone from what I’ve seen, but she will eat and drink if her grandmother gives her something directly. It is unclear whether this is due to disability, trauma or a combination of the two. Everywhere in and around their home smells like urine.

I was immediately drawn to her, and whenever she looks up at me, even for a brief moment, it is like a knife through my heart. So, yesterday I was there with a team and I watched her have this same impact on a woman on that team. While everyone else sang and focused on the grandmother, this woman sat with her arm around the granddaughter, tears rolling down her face. She was the last to get up and leave, and all I could say as we walked away together was “she breaks my heart too.” I have to believe her kindness and presence made a difference. It made a difference to me.

And today, one of the teenage boys who lives here at Grace Village walked me home from church! My apartment (and the family-style homes which are home to Haitian children who were unable to be reunited with their biological families) are located inside of Grace Village. Grace Church is down on the street level, while Grace Village is at the top of a steep and rocky climb inside a secure wall with a guarded gate.

Due to an electrical fire which tripped the generator somehow this morning, my apartment-mates had left suddenly during the church service to figure out wiring issues and get the power back up. Which left me to be the only American at church. I really was fine walking back by myself. The climb tests my muscles and my lung capacity, but it wasn’t my first hike. Still, my new friend was determined to see me up the mountain safely.

He came up beside me as soon as church was out to find out where Kenny (one of my apartment-mates) was. When I didn’t know, he followed me out the church gate. I realized upon turning around to check on something else, that he had gone half a block, then stopped and turned back for me. He walked silently beside me the rest of the climb. Presence does matter. Kindness does matter. I am grateful today to be witness to kindness.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”

Galatians 5:22-23

I unpacked my suitcases! This is the first time in two months I’ve really had a home, and it is a beautiful one. I’m living now at Grace Village in Titanyen, Haiti, where I will be primarily living for the next year. I even got a Haitian sim card for my phone so I feel just a tiny bit less like a foreigner.

Yesterday was the real beginning of my immersion study in Haitian Creole and culture. I rode out on the Kubota with Vania and Jonas to visit elders. Being out in the community without any other Americans was an incredible experience, one that I will get to have many times throughout my time here. Vania is a patient Creole tutor and also excited to work on her English skills with me. She is also looking to pursue a career in nursing, and she is practicing by taking regular blood pressure checks on our elders in the eldercare program. I am focusing on memorizing names and faces, there are a lot of them! But the elders I can greet by name respond with huge smiles, hugs and kisses.

I am getting to know my fellow missionaries who also live here. Caleb, Mackenzie, Olivia and Ellorie (and their puppy Annie) are the wonderful family who live in the house next door. My roommate is Samantha, and we share an apartment with Jake, Kenny and Dustin. We are not cramped for space, though! We have a private bathroom, large bedroom, amazing common areas and a deck with a jaw-dropping view. It has been fun to get to know new friends and reconnect with those I’ve known a while.

For those who have asked or wondered, I did experience my first earthquake on Saturday. I was still in Port-Au-Prince at the time. We felt the floor shifting under us as we ate dinner and went outside as a precaution. Everyone and everything here is fine, though!

You can pray for those in northern Haiti who were more closely affected by the earthquake. Also, pray for peace for the Haitian people. Many spent Saturday night outside, afraid to go back in their homes. There is a lot of trauma here for those who lived through the earthquake in 2010.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:10

I’ve been here less than five days, but these few days have been jam-packed with experiences, meetings, friends, language barriers, laughter, frustrations, and lots of dreaming and planning for the year ahead!

I traveled to Haiti (and am spending the week) with a couple of women who champion and advocate for the Eldercare program in Titanyen, doing all kinds of behind the scenes work and coordination in service to our elders.

Our first full day was spent focusing on the new Eldercare program in Cite Soleil with the two pastors of Hope Church, Kathy Witte, who works closely with the Hope Church pastors, and a handful of other Healing Haiti missionaries and Haitian staff members.

We spent time meeting with the pastors, hearing their heart to care for the elderly and vulnerable members of that community, and learning what the church members were already doing to meet their needs. We then had the honor to go on home visits with the pastors to each of those elder’s homes, where they were given a basic health assessment by a nurse and prayed over. High blood pressure is a huge concern here, affecting many of the elderly people, and often left untreated due to lack of education or access to healthcare. We are putting together a plan to get those with dangerously high blood pressures seen by a doctor as soon as possible.

The past three days have been a whirlwind of introductions, as I am attempting to meet and connect with each elder (about 30 of them) in the Eldercare program in Titanyen. Vanya, the woman who runs all the daily aspects of the Eldercare program, has been gracious to embrace me and happy to have me come alongside and serve her. She has been teasing me, making me carry the step stool she sits on between our elder visit stops. I will have to work hard to move up from stool-carrier to whatever position is above that…? It has been eye-opening to say the least to meet each person and tour many of their homes.

One woman shares a tiny concrete room with 11 children/grandchildren – one corner is filled with the charcoal she sells at the market, and a small bed fills about a third of the room. At night, the children sleep either on the bed or on the two small patches of concrete floor. The low, wooden rafters are hung with clothes and school uniforms, as she is the sole provider for her family.

The poverty is incomprehensible, the need immense, but there is faith and hope and love. There is much more to come. Much more to say. Many pictures and so much hope and heartbreak here. But for today, know I am blessed to be here.

“We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I favor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me” Colossians 1:28-29

It was a whirlwind weekend of partying and praying!

I have been immensely blessed by friends, family and mentors these past few days. After a few days relaxing with my parents and brother in Alexandria, I headed back to the cities for a “Katie to Haiti” party hosted by Kathy Witte and others (thanks Kevin, Lori, Deb, Alane!). The food was amazing and I was surrounded with wonderful people who have been very influential in my life for an evening of sharing, laughing and lots of prayers.

Sunday continued the themes of prayers, support and lots of “see you later” hugs. I was honored in the morning service to have the entire congregation join in prayer for me as I move to Haiti and a continued time of prayer with a smaller group of supporters after the service. I am excited to go but also sad to leave, and in saying goodbye to my home church both of those feelings became more real.

Sunday evening was a quiet retreat with some of my home group at James and Julie’s house, complete with a fall campfire and s’mores and yes, more prayers. I have not been prayed over that much in a span of 24 hours probably ever in my entire life! But I could still use s’more… 😉

And now… it’s crunch time! I am getting down to my last sprints of errands and organizing, packing and prioritizing, laundry and lots of necessary hang-outs.

The Lord continues to provide in surprising ways! I’ve had a spike of financial support in the past week – not 100% funded yet but definitely close enough to get me started out on solid footing.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths.” -Proverbs 3:5-6

I’ve come down to the last four days at my job. My last few weeks in Minnesota. Life in Haiti will be my reality so soon! And I am excited!

This summer has been a challenge to say the least! But I am moving forward, trusting the Lord and confident that He is leading me onward to Haiti.

I sold my house and narrowed down my possessions to the contents of a small storage locker and whatever fits in my car. Over the past three weeks, I’ve slept in 7 different places and known the wonderful generosity and hospitality of friends and family in my homelessness.

The past two weeks have been difficult. We found out that my dad has CLL, a form of blood and bone marrow cancer. Though the initial tests set us up for a dire prognosis, the word from the Hematologist today was encouraging, with high hopes for treatment and at least a few more years on earth.

And so I pack, fundraise, and cross things daily off a never-ending to-do list. And in the chaos, peace. In the struggle, trusting. In the battle, never alone.

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless. O LORD Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you.” Psalms 84:10-12