Mwen Renmen Ayiti

Just over 72 hours ago, I was saying goodbye to some of the most amazing kids I have ever had the privilege of meeting. After spending my spring break in Grand Goâve, Haiti, working with the Be Like Brit foundation, I can honestly say that I now have a different perspective on my own life, as cliché as that may sound.

Mwen renmen Ayiti = I love Haiti. 

I didn't know what to expect. I was very excited, and then suddenly very scared, especially on the ride to the airport. I thought to myself, "what if?" What if my mom's concerns were realistic? What if I got there and drank the water and immediately died? Yes, very selfish thoughts, but I really just did not know what I was about to experience.

We landed in Port-Au-Prince on Saturday afternoon, and all of those thoughts vanished. The moment I met our leaders, Francky and Joe, I knew this trip was going to be life-changing.

We stepped outside of the airport, which was surrounded by dozens of people waiting for rides, and started loading our things into the "tap-tap" (what a truck is called, basically like a taxi) when a car drove by me, nearly knocking me over. That was when I realized Haiti doesn't have road laws. Here we go!

the crew in the tap tap - wild rides!

The sun was beating down and I was thriving. Coming from North Carolina, where it's usually pretty warm but was unexpectedly cold for the last few weeks, I was LOVING the sunshine after being trapped on an airplane for the whole morning. We started driving (recklessly, since that's the only way to do it) through the capital, as we were all so excited and staring in awe out of the tinted van windows (we were very highly secured). But, after a few minutes, the chatter died off. We sat in awe, and probably shock, at what we were witnessing.

Goats, chickens, and dogs - with their ribs clearly visible - roaming the streets, making the driver, T-Poppy, swerve and honk every few minutes. Haitians crossing whenever they could, carrying large buckets on their heads, like what we see in movies. Shacks and small markets everywhere we looked, followed by large open fields with mountains in the background. Suddenly, we passed through a giant smoke cloud, as we soon found out that because Haiti doesn't have a trash system, they burn their trash in the streets.

smoke cloud from the burning trash 

This is when the realization hit me that I was traveling through the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. 

After a very long, bumpy ride, we pulled up to the bottom of the hill where the Be Like Brit orphanage is. We started going up, and I swear I thought we were going to roll backward based on the 90 degree angle it felt like we were driving up. T-Poppy started blaring the horn so that the gates to the orphanage would be opened by the guards (told ya, very secure). When we arrived at the top and anxiously jumped out of the car, every single student had the biggest smile on their face. This was by far the most breath-taking, glorious view I have ever seen.

yes, this is the view. incredible.

Once all of us were situated, we started the walk to the inside, and we dropped our belongings in the main foyer near the front door, as we were shuffled towards the "chapel" area where all 66 kids were welcoming us by singing "Hallelujah" (click here for the video). We all sat down on the benches to watch them, and there wasn't a dry eye in the room (er, area...the orphanage has an "open" concept where there isn't a roof, so it was more like a courtyard). Just when I thought I couldn't be any more emotional in that moment, when the kids finished their song, they all came up to us and started hugging us and welcoming us - every single child. Talk about a greeting. This moment will forever be a highlight of my life.

my heart. my whole heart. 

We spent the rest of the day touring the orphanage, relaxing on the roof, drooling over the view overlooking the ocean and mountains, and hanging out with the kids. Even though we were strangers in their home, they welcomed us with open arms, grabbing our hands and pulling us towards their soccer field, or calling us over to the play with them under the mango tree. I know, it sounds like a fantasy -- and it was just that.

hangin under the mango tree

Night one was a little rough based on the number of times the power flickered since the orphanage transitions from solar power to a generator at night, and the cockroach that was spotted in our bathroom (which, luckily, I shared a room with three of my very closest friends). I was scared that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep because of all that was running through my head after this first day, but the second my head hit the pillow on my bottom bunk, I was out.

The next morning, I was geared up and ready to go start on our house-build at 7AM. We were all very hyper and ready to take on the project, especially after eating a delicious bagel breakfast accompanied by the best pineapple and mango I have ever tasted. First, though, we had to have a Creole lesson so that we could at least know the basics - bonjou (good morning), bonswa (good afternoon), mah toe (hammer), ya know.

nutella, bagels, and mangos: does life get any better? 

We hopped into the old school bus and took off down the daunting hill, which was even more scary going down at 90 degrees, and once again sat in awe as we drove through the small town of Grand Goâve with little kids pointing up at us on the bus yelling "blah blah!" (spelled as "blan" in Creole) meaning foreigners, or white people. I didn't quite know how to react to this, but the term is commonly used, and not in a derogatory way.  When we got to the work site, and we saw the inside of the current home of the family who was going to receive the new house, I had to turn away so that I wouldn't show them my sadness. This family had nothing. One bed for the six of them to share. No room to move. No space for anything to be stored. Just a shack. I was in disbelief that this was the normal home of a Haitian family.

Building the house for this family was one of the hardest experiences I have gone through, and that shows how little troubles I have been through in my own life. I used to complain and stomp around when my dad would ask me to help him to yard work because it was "too hot outside" and there were "too many bugs." The thought up picking up a shovel never crossed my mind at home. But here I was, digging holes in 90 degree heat as a bunch of creepy-crawlies swirled around me, sweat pouring down my face. And yet, I was ecstatic to be there, surrounded by peers of my college and some of the kindest, most helpful people. When I was clearly struggling to carry a 40 pound bucket of concrete, the employees at our worksite would jump in and help immediately, even if they were holding 100 pounds of wood while helping me. When we, the "blah," would start to become drained of energy from the beating sun, they'd all yell "water break for our blahs!" and shoo us over to the shade. To brighten the mood, we'd blare throwback songs and spend time just enjoying each other's company, jamming to "Hey Ya!" by Outkast as we danced around with the most loving children at the work site, including 5-year-old Bishni, whom we all adored.

the shirt says it all

my sassy bff, Bishni

praying at the work site every morning before we started 

After completing our work at the site every morning, we'd head back to BLB and relax while cracking open a "Toro" (aka the best energy drink ever) and chatting about our experiences over a lunch of spaghetti or turkey sandwiches with a side of my favorite - mango juice.

zonked on the couch after a long morning

After lunch, we'd gear up to go on the excursion for the day: a hike through the tallest mountains, an exploration around the city of Grand Goave to see the children's schools and churches, a visit to a voodoo temple, and a treck through a Haitian market on its busiest day, a Wednesday. These excursions were surprisingly some of the hardest moments of the trip, both physically and emotionally. Hiking up and down paths in 90 degrees during the peak of the afternoon isn't exactly my idea of "fun," but it sure did push me to think about how some of the Haitians must walk those trails multiple times a day just to go get water or to venture out to the market for food. Without the motivation from the rest of my team and our wonderful leader, Shelby, I truly don't know if I would have made it on one of the hikes that was beyond exhausting. The other excursion that was very hard for me was the market, mostly due to my extreme allergies to all animals, because being in a very tight, hot space surrounded by goats and stray dogs for an extended amount of time is pure misery. But, it was also challenging because the market experience was so different than the way that businesses are run in America. These vendors lives depend on what they sell at the market, so every which way you look, someone is yelling at you in Creole to come to their stand, grabbing your hand and trying to get you to see their products. It was loud, stifling, and very aromatic due to all of the different foods and concoctions, and in the moment I was overcome with emotion because it was hard to realize that the market meant survival for a large number of these men and women. The excursions pushed me far out of my comfort zone, but perhaps that's exactly what I needed. Luckily, we had a beach day on Saturday, and that is when I was truly in my ~element~

alright fine, the view was beautiful

love you Shelby!

you can tell by the look on my face that the market was not my forte

on the beach with my besties & Joe

glad I got to have this experience with some of my AXO sisters!

The best moment we all had together was during our house blessing. When we finally completed the house and it was all painted and locked up, very securely, we all went to the worksite to bless the house and hand over the keys to the family. The mother was so extremely thankful that none of us could hold it together. Her and the kids came around and hugged us each individually, thanking us for building them a home to feel safe in. In this moment, I knew coming to Haiti on my spring break was well worth it, and I would come back to build a million houses knowing it meant this much to the families of Haiti. I was so proud of the work we had done together. We built a HOUSE!

My favorite memories of the trip include our time spent at BLB playing with the kids. As I said, these 66 children are the most loving, welcoming kids I have ever seen. They run around kicking soccer balls, doing each other's hair, and taking care of one another, even though they aren't "technically" brothers and sisters yet view each other as family. The community that BLB has built is phenomenal. Every evening after their showers at 5:30PM, they'd all attend their English class before dinner. We had the opportunity to join them and sit in on the different classes, and I was blown away by their intelligence and willingness to learn. One of the oldest children, Fredo, was always leading the younger kids in his class by speaking up and using his voice to encourage the others to focus and learn. It was incredible how well they were able to read and speak English given that they live in a nation that speaks Haitian Creole, which I was struggling to learn. During dinner every night, which consisted of some more glorious mango juice and usually a mix of rice, beans, and chicken (besides our Friday night pizza dinner), we would have a "thankful" circle to each say one thing we were thankful for. In these quiet moments is when I would really think about what I was thankful for: a home, a family, running water, a constant food supply, the opportunity to go to college, and more importantly, the opportunity to travel to Haiti and see things through their eyes.

my dude, Fredo

After dinner was always the best time of the day - time with the kiddos. Whether we were watching them do a reading competition (in French or Creole) or we were having a ~wild~ dance party (see the video below), this time was always full of laughter and many, many hugs. One of my fondest memories is of this little boy named Medlens who came running up to my best friend Alexis and I, hugging us and not wanting to let go, saying "my sistas from another mista!!" Alexis and I would look at each other and have to turn away knowing that would we would break out into tears, which we did not want to do in front of the kids since it's already hard enough for this group of strangers to come in and play with them for a whole week and then suddenly leave. The last night was extremely tough when we had to say good night, because I knew that my simple "bon nwi" meant goodbye, not goodnight. We, the Britsionarys, all sat together upstairs and just cried for a solid 10 minutes after the kids went to bed because the relationships we formed with these kids (and the employees -- JOE!!!) are irreplaceable. We sulked to bed knowing we'd be up just a few hours later to catch our early-morning flight, and although the week was physically and emotionally draining, none of us wanted to leave so soon.

Medlens!!! 

I can't dare forget about JOE!!!

Haiti, I thank you for welcoming me into your community with open arms. I thank you for changing my perspective on my life and what I want to do in my future. I promise I will be back. 

And, to the Be Like Brit program: it is astonishing what the Gengel family has accomplished over the past 8 years. I could not be more thankful for the opportunity to join the Britsionary family and to share and promote my experiences with my communities back home. 

Mwen renmen Ayiti. 

To see all of the pictures from my trip, click here.