I am awful at this

So, I (Jarrett) have not updated this blog in quite some time. Chalk it up to laziness, forgetfulness, not thinking my life is worth blogging, etc… But, Tiff and I had a pretty eventful weekend in Jacmel.

First, a little back story of the week leading up to this trip. Tiff brought home a TV show on DVD that she was told to watch. I looked at it and saw that it was an ABC Family. Which meant I did not want to watch it. It’s called Switched at Birth, which also made me think that it’s a pretty awful show. Being the loving husband I am, I told Tiff that I would watch the first episode with her and she can watch the rest on her own. I watched the first episode and honestly, I was surprised! The ONLY reason why I was interested in it was because one of the girls was deaf. She wore a hearing aid, did sign language, went to a deaf school, had a deaf friend with whom she had regular conversations in sign language with. The deaf culture was prominent. It’s actually pretty accurate in the deaf culture.

After watching this show, I got excited again about sign language. With my dad being deaf and with me not knowing how to sign (that’s another story), I figured too much time had passed since I learned. I’ve lived 24 (almost 25!) years and I haven’t tried to communicate with my dad through sign. I needed to learn. So, I decided to teach myself. Luckily, people feel that sign language is important, and they offer free ASL (American Sign Language) classes online (free to learn, a fee to be certified!). So I started learning. Teaching myself vocabulary, syntax, etc. I also have an amazing wife who wants to learn with me! She also wants to talk to my dad using sign, too! I learned about 30-35 signs the first day, even more the next, etc… I could form basic sentences.

Fast forward to this weekend. We were in Marigot, Haiti, about 4 hours outside of Port-au-Prince. It’s about 5 minutes from Jacmel and pretty out in the country. It is an actual little town with paved streets, businesses, but it’s still pretty small. We were driving out in the country right outside of Marigot looking for houses for the Mattenleys. We drove up next to this guy who was walking on the side of the road. Shane pulled up next to him and started talking. He immediately told us he couldn’t hear. Shane looked at me, knowing that I know a little sign language. I thought, alright, I’ll try. I asked him by signing if he signed, not expecting him to understand. I’m in the countryside of Haiti, doing ASL to a deaf Haitian. He started signing back. He knew ASL! I was so surprised. We talked a bit, because I don’t know a whole lot. I told him why we were there. I asked how long he was deaf, and if the guy with him signed. I was baffled. I had just learned most of those words the week before.

Tiff and I talked about it afterward. We were both extremely surprised. We both have been very frustrated at the lack of our ability to communicate with the people around us. I see Shane and Kristie able to talk so clearly to the people around here, and I can’t. But, I was able to communicate, albeit in a basic manner, to someone when no one else could. It felt good! But what did it mean? This is what Tiff and I discussed. We feel that it was sort of a sign. I shy away from saying things like that. It seems a little too new-agey. But, we felt that it means that I might be fit in well in a deaf ministry. There are a few here, but it still might be a bit difficult to get plugged in. It’s just something that we might be able to look into in the future. I feel as if this is something I can definitely get around! I want to be involved in a deaf ministry.

There were a lot of other things that happened this weekend, but that is a story for another day. This experience, however, was the most impacting to me the whole weekend. For now, I will continue to learn and hopefully my wife and I can speak to my dad for the first time using sign language. It’s a wonderful thing!

March Happenings

Hey there, March! Where did you go? 

Well, here is what we have done in March. We have two really big holidays in March for Jarrett and I. One is my favorite, my birthday, and the other is Jarrett’s favorite, St. Patrick’s Day. As most of you know, St. Patrick’s Day is on March 17th and in Haiti we decided to have a potato bar at our house for this special day. We invited our friends over to have baked potatoes and lots of goodies attached with it. 

The next thing we did was have a progressive dinner. Just an Italian night. Full of friends and food. I made my favorite dish (lasagna) for the first time. My first adult party. I feel all grown up. Married and all. Schucks! 

Sadly the week of my birthday, I got sick. And when I saw sick, I mean I stayed home from work kind of sick. When I got back to school on Thursday you would have thought that I just gave them money. They were so happy to see me. Though I was still sick, hugs were necessary! 

Then…there is my birthday! Tomorrow I turn 24 years old. My husband has great plans for us…more on that later. :)

We SUCK!

Okay Okay. We suck at blogging. But let’s face it, we don’t think about it much. This past week has been spring break. Since the break, Jarrett and I have realized more and more that we do not blog on here much at all. Because of that, I need to catch you up on just a bit of life here.

We painted our apartment to make it feel more homey.

We went to the pool with friends. 

We ate great food.

We spent time outside.

We read, took naps, and watched movies.

I spent lots of my time in the kitchen and on pintrest.

Jarrett spent lots of time playing Skyrim (men…a word to the wise…if you love your wife, DO NOT buy this game. She will think you do nothing else. )

That pretty much sums it up I think. 

Okay, now we will try to do better. Try being the operative word in that sentence. :)

“After the quake”

The title of this post is something that I hear quite often. I hear people talk about Haiti before the earthquake, and then preface what they say after that with, “After the quake.” I have never known Haiti until right around three months ago, which is a year and a half after the earthquake. I have no knowledge of a “pre-quake” Haiti. So when people mention this, it seems a little odd. They are qualifying entire portions of their life after this event. I am not saying that this is wrong by any means; I am merely speaking from an ignorant, American standpoint. We Americans have a point in our history like this; 9/11. What I am about to say may be bothersome to some, but I believe that that particular event, while devastating, does not warrant an “After the _____” mentality. It didn’t affect our normal happenings. It didn’t break down our whole infrastructure. It didn’t cause an impoverished country to become more impoverished. It didn’t displace thousands upon thousands of people. The earthquake did. This country, a year and a half later, is still in ruins. I don’t know how they can bounce back from this. Let me touch on what I mean.

A couple of weeks ago (it really has been a while since I blogged… I apologize!), a large group of teachers went to the beach. It was a resort called Kaliko, and it was amazing. I have been to the beach one time before, and that was in Florida, many years ago. The beach was actually about an hour and a half away. We drove through places in Port-au-Prince that I have never been, but I saw many of the same things I do every day, just with different experiences attached. We drove through a lot of poverty. It is heart-breaking every time I see it. Every time I venture out into this country, I see poverty everywhere. It hadn’t rained that day, and it didn’t look like it would, which was nice for going to the beach! But, we passed along this road that I would describe more as a river. We drove through water that hit about mid-hubcap on our vehicle. Cameras popped out everywhere because it was quite a sight. People didn’t live directly on this road, but they lived on the side roads. I saw people walking with their pants rolled up through the water to the rusted shell of a hut along the side of the road. It was quite a sight.

As we hit the outskirts of town, we started to hit the hills and mountains. Right after we got out of Port-au-Prince, we started driving by the long, rolling hills along the side of the road (which actually was smooth and paved with a beautiful blacktop asphalt, not unlike the highways and freeways of America), and on those many hills were makeshift homes made of tarp, wood, and metal. Some of the homes were pre-fab homes built by a local company called Maxima, but most of them were tents. This is a tent city that is now home to over 30,000 displaced Haitians. Right after the earthquake, there were only 100 or so tents, but it has since grown to what it is now. This tent city is called Canaan. Canaan, the promised land. The land promised to Abraham where God “will make of you a great nation” (Genesis 12:2). Hearing this broke my heart. Seeing this in person as we drove right next to it was awful. It was an entire city of tents spread out amongst the hills outside Port-au-Prince. It was “The promised land.”

This picture does NOT do it justice.

Even with something simple as seasons is different. In Illinois, we have four seasons. They are definite, they are distinct. I will miss fall. I will miss the leaves changing, the cool air in the nighttime; the smell. I will miss it all. I am told in Haiti, there are two seasons: Rainy and not rainy. It fluctuates between 70 and 90 all year-round. Today I started walking to class and I noticed a lot of students wearing sweaters and pants. It was maybe low to mid-70s. Typically when it is that temperature in Illinois, I am sweating like crazy. But these kids are freezing! And then I notice. I feel a little cold. I’m not to the point of needing a sweater yet, but I could see that happening in the very near future.

I had a discussion with one of the computer techs, Dave, about this. Dave is from Canada, which has two seasons: extremely cold and not so cold. He mentioned the climate here in Haiti after the earthquake (again, “after the quake.”). He told me that, like clockwork, the rainy season begins about the end of February and ends at the end of May. The earthquake happened near the end of January, at the end of the “dry” season. Apparently, for the first time in Dave’s time in Haiti (I think around 15 or more years), the rainy season never came. The dry season persisted until the end of May. How weird is that? “After the quake,” the seasons were affected. It is now raining enough here to make up for the lack of one “after the quake,” however. Also, I am looking forward to leaving Haiti to come back to the states in December. It may be around 80 when I leave, and be about… 20 when I land in St. Louis. Hopefully my parents remember to bring my coat.

On a completely different side note, I have been struggling with being genuine. I feel as if my time here in Haiti is serving as a way to make that glaringly clear. I am being opened up to so many different experiences that are real and hitting me in the face with their existence, yet I still struggle with being genuine with my faith, with my relationship with God, with my life in general. While I am seeing things that definitely make me think of God’s workings in this world, it also isn’t drawing me closer to Him. I know that is entirely my fault. I am not letting Him near my heart to change it. I am attempting to hold on to something comfortable. I live on a compound with air conditioning, a fridge, electricity, clean water, a comfortable bed, etc. This little nugget of comfort and luxury is set amidst merchants selling wares to be able to eat tonight in their tent provided by an absentee philanthropist living in the land of the free. Right outside our tall, concrete walls guarded by men with guns are people wearing the same clothes since the earthquake picking through the trash that piles along the side of the street thrown away by people like me. Does this affect me? Not like it should.

Instead, I struggle with reading my bible for fear of just doing it out of obligation. I struggle with doing anything outward for fear that I am merely doing it to increase my holy appearance. Praying in public? Am I doing it because I genuinely want God to hear my praise and petition or am I closing my eyes and bowing my head because other people will think how cool my public display of faith (or PDF) is? How do I get over this faith-crippling affliction? So far, my best shot is to suck it up and do it. I am a wretched creature who doesn’t understand where my heart should rest its laurels aside from where I believe it should; in Christ. Perhaps I should just do it and my stupid heart will follow. Stupid, stupid heart.

My new-ish worldview

So, I’m looking back on my still short time here in Haiti. I have assimilated pretty well, at least I think. At first, that came as more of a surprise than the culture shock of being out the country for the first time ever, and that particular country I am visiting is a third-world country that is still recovering from a pretty devastating earthquake. The only reason why I feel this is possible is because I am supposed to be here, in this time.

At the church Tiff and I go to, we actually go to the house of someone who works at Quisqueya. It’s a beautiful house, in the midst of a lot of buildings that are crumbling, but still standing after the earthquake. It’s that dichotomy again. Anyway, we watch sermons on DVD from Andy Stanley. I like his preaching because he seems to really struggle with scripture. Anyway, he talked this past week about the story of the feeding of the 5000 and then Peter stepping out of the boat. Now, typically, the second story is tied in with doing missions because “As a Christian, you gotta get out of the boat!” That’s fine an good, but I never really bought that. Andy talked about this passage in a slightly different way. He focused more on the trusting part of the story. Peter didn’t just get out of the boat, and Jesus just didn’t ask him to get out. Peter asked Jesus to ask him out of the boat. Peter needed a reason to trust Jesus, but he understood that trusting Jesus came from Jesus himself. Not anywhere else. This was profound. I don’t mean to speak for everyone, but me personally, I generally gloss over Peter asking Jesus.

This is kind of what I’m doing. At least without the asking part. I am trusting God. I left my home, my comfort, my family, to come here with my wife and teach. Even that is something I’m trusting God for; I’ve never taught before! I enjoy what I’m teaching, but I never thought I would be teaching it. But, that is where God wants me. You know how I know? Because I’m here, and being blessed every day. By the kids, by my time with my wife, by the relationships I’m building here. I am a firm believer that God would not bless what he doesn’t approve of.

With that being said, now to the title of the post: My new-ish worldview. I have been noticing differences in American culture here in Haiti. Big surprise, right? I think it needs to be said, though. The reason is that I am noticing how my worldview is extremely limited. I would even say crippled.

First, I take my life in America for granted. That saying has depth. It has weight. While I feel that while I was in America, I tried to take things as they were and not complain a lot, therefore “not taking my life for granted” but here, in this place, I realize I didn’t even scratch the surface. Everything here is a mix of American culture with the Haitian culture. The difference is that I can see that America is the world standard for just about everything. I overheard students talking about a new internet that is coming to Haiti that is “supposed to be as fast as American internet.” We can order Dominos Pizza online and have it delivered “in 30 minutes or less.” American movies are HUGE here! You can get a movie bootleg for a movie that came out in American theaters 3 months ago.

Secondly, Tiff and I have mentors. We feel it would be beneficial to our marriage to meet and share with a married couple that have been at it for a while. I enjoy the conversations we have a lot! Last night, I was talking with the husband about traveling. He told me a story about his travels to China. He broke a tooth while he was there, so he was taken to the best dentist close to where he was. They fit him for a temporary crown, then they ordered the permanent one. They not only ordered it, but they called manufacturer and had them to a better job on it, and expedite the shipping because “it’s for a foreigner.” That just blows me away! In those cultures, westerners are treated like celebrities! We are respected because we’re outsiders. Why is that? What happens to outsiders in America? They get shunned. They get treated like crap. Why is America so great? I’m finding it increasingly hard to answer that.

Third, I saw an infographic about bottled water today. It asks the question if bottled water is bad. They answer yes. Then the infographic goes on to talk about how much of the water is actually tap water, how little the bottles are recycled, and how much oil is used to create the bottles. As I read this, I was appalled. Not because of what the infographic was saying, but how not true it is here. If it wasn’t for the large bottles of water we get everyday, we would probably die. Cholera is still a huge problem here, so drinking tap water is out of the question. The bottled water here does NOT use tap water. It can’t. Recycling? We have to reuse the bottles we get over and over or else there would be eventually a shortage. That would be bad. The oil that is used to go into the bottles? That’s still a problem, but it is a necessary evil. I thought how that infographic was made for Americans, and not for anyone else. While those things are in issue in America, they do not affect anything here. The infographic does not make me think that bottled water is bad; it’s the opposite. It also gives me a different worldview than my crippled American one.

With that being said, I can think of three things that I miss about being in America.

1. My family first and foremost
2. Chipotle
3. American Football (Go Pack Go!)

Does this make me a hypocrite? Probably. But at least I’m recognizing it as a problem.

Hurricanes and Epic movies

It’s been a while, tumblr. Hello again.

Haiti is currently experiencing hurricane season. Essentially, this is the same as tornado season in the states, but it’s slightly shorter and actually potentially dangerous. We had our first “snow” day at school on Tuesday. There was a hurricane that grazed the top of the island, and we got out of school for it. While it didn’t hit us, which is great, because hurricanes do not bode well for the people in the tent cities, it did hit up near Cap-Haïtien, and apparently killed two people. The hurricane is now barreling towards the states, and is expected to end up somewhere in South Carolina. It’s supposed to be a category 3, which is bad news bears. Hopefully, the states are more prepared and can withstand it! The day was nice. We ate lunch at the Pruitt’s apartment, which was really nice. After that, I buckled down and got a LOT of work done. I need to try and stay ahead, which may mean I need to try and be more organized. My wife does help a lot, though! I worked hard and decided that Tiff and I needed at date. So, we went on an epi-date! There is an awesome restaurant here, called Epi’dor. It’s super cheap (165 gds, or right around $4 for a burger, large fry and a coke!). I generally get the steak sandwich, mainly because it’s super tasty and spicy! Anyway, Tiff and I got our food and headed back to our place to watch Chuck. We both have fallen in love with that show! Well, she was before, and she got me stuck on it!

My classes have been going really well. My film class is super exciting! I only have 6 students, which makes a really good group. I love film history and all the stuff that goes into it. The good news is, my students do, too! I think that I want to try and teach another film class, called epic movies. I spend the whole semester on 6 movies: Titanic, Avatar, and all 3 Lord of the Rings movies. Not only can I teach film theory, I can teach film technology, history (Titanic?), and literature (LotR). I feel I can really teach a lot with that. The only problem is I would have to take at least 9 class periods to watch all three Lord of the Rings movies alone. I think that may only be for the regular, not extended. Totally worth it.

Also, I’m addicted to Coke from Haiti. I hate Coke in the States, but here, it’s ridiculously good. Interesting, no?

Another long one!

I’ve been meaning to blog, but I’m finding it hard to bring myself to do it. But then I realized that someone my stumble on it someday and find it intriguing (my life? nah…) and possibly want to come to Haiti and help out long-term like me. I just have to hold onto that hope, I guess.

Saturday was an interesting day. Tiff needed to get some work done, but we needed to get some things from Eagle. So, I decided to go by myself. Up until now, I have never really understood what it meant to be “blan.” I have never experienced such profiling from the other side. Normally, as people walk by the merchants on the street, they don’t go out of the way to sell their wares, but as soon as I walk by, they erupt into “Hey, blan! Hey, blan!” It’s kind of unnerving. Anyway, I made it to Eagle and was back into trying to convert Gourdes into dollars. While I only had Gourdes, I wanted to see if what I was buying was worth it. I got everything on the list except parchment paper. I looked in the baking section, the bread section and then I asked a worker, who got another worker. I was hoping that the second worker spoke at least a little English, but he didn’t. And let me tell you, it’s hard trying to explain parchment paper to someone who not only speaks another language, but is also a product of another culture. I eventually grabbed the wax paper and moved on.

I got home, and found that the sugar I got wasn’t, in fact, brown sugar, but brown colored regular sugar. That was kind of unfortunate. I decided to get some cokes from the street. I grabbed some coins and headed out. I went all the way down Delmas 75 to the corner and tried to get some. The guy only offered me one coke for all the coins I had! I was getting frustrated because of the language barrier, so I went back towards campus. Right outside of our gate, I tried the same thing. I had the same problem. I figured that they were trying to rip off another “blan.” I went back inside and told Tiff. She asked to see my coins, so I showed her. The coins were 5 gourde coins, so all the ones I had actually did add up to one coke. I felt like an idiot!

Later on that night, we went to the Mattenlys. They have pizza every Saturday and they invited people over to have some. It was a short walk from the school, so it wasn’t too bad. The pizza was amazing! And there was a ton of it, so we all ate well. I talked to Shane, Kristy’s husband. We talked about movies, which made me really happy! We were supposed to watch a movie, but we couldn’t get a hold of a projector, so instead, we did worship. It was wonderful! Josiah played guitar but they didn’t have a drum, and I really wanted to play. Kristy taught me a Haitian phrase, “Degajey” (probably not the right spelling). It means to “make do with what you have,” or “I made it through the day.” We grabbed a bucket, and I played that for worship. It was wonderful! It was small and intimate. We did that for a while, and then we talked afterward. I started to crash, so we headed home.

Today was the first day of school! We started out the day with worship. I played djembe with Josiah. It was really nice! But, it was also really hot. We were right in the sun, and I sweat pretty badly through my shirt. I wore a button down and a tie. It was a mistake. But, the worship went well and so did the meeting! It was only a half day, and I didn’t teach any classes. Instead, I helped high schoolers sign up for electives. I was worried because my classes were mixed in with a lot of other good choices. I was hoping students would actually pick my classes! I ended up with 9 students in my Yearbook class, 10 students in my digital photography class, 25 in my computer applications class, and only 2 in my film class. I’m sure it’ll be great! I also got a lot of good shots of students for the yearbook! I’m excited!

Tomorrow is a full day of classes! I get to teach… one class. My film class. Should be fun!

Getting acquainted

Tomorrow is Friday, marking the start of my last weekend before I will start teaching. It has been a crazy couple of days, full of hard work, meetings, and adjustments. I am still not used to it here. I know that it should be super obvious, considering I have never been out of the country before this. However, while I am not used to it here, I am strangely comfortable. I can’t explain it. While the situations I am getting into are not comfortable for me, as I have never been exposed to any of them before, I feel that I can handle it. As I sit here, in my living room couch I feel at home. I don’t mean the physical home, as that would be glaringly obvious considering this is my home, but I mean the feeling of home. This is where Tiff and I have made a home. I still have a long way to go, but I’m dealing with the change surprisingly well. It hasn’t been a week yet, so it may not have kicked in yet. We’ll see.

It is now 9:31pm. The air conditioner above me has turned off, making the outside that much more audible. I can hear cars passing by, horns honking, people chattering. I hear this all the time, but it’s tough to actually hear it with my modern contraptions keeping me cool. When I was told that the generators would go off at 9, meaning the air conditioners, I was honestly a little worried. I don’t do well with heat. After it’s happened for the past two nights, it’s actually a little refreshing. It’s amazing what your brain will put in the back. You don’t notice it until it’s gone. I think my favorite thing here is all the noise. It must be my background in recording. I just find so much of the culture here is in the natural soundtrack of Port-au-Prince. From the blaring church services with interweaving acapella worship and excited ministering, to the laying on of car horns, to the excited yelling of merchants peddling their wares to every passerby, especially “blans.” People who have been here for a while tell me I will get sick of the noise, but to be honest, I hope that doesn’t happen.

A day of firsts

Yesterday was quite a doozy. It started at 3am. Tiff and I woke up after 3 hours of sleep. Our bags were already in the car so we sleepily put our last minute things in our carry-on bags and headed downstairs. There was a storm outside, which didn’t make me feel any better about what we were going to.

My first plane ride. I wasn’t scared, but more anxious. The idea of going to another country was really weighing on my mind. But, as I am a photographer (self-proclaimed), I was more excited about getting really good shots from the window of the plane. Which I did, and I plan to post them as soon as I am not so lazy busy to do it!

As we started to fly over Haiti, still pretty high up in the air, it looked like a paradise; beaches, waves, boats. But as we got closer to the airport (and the ground) I began to see large tent cities and shacks. We pulled into the airport, and it looked very different from the one we just left in Miami. This was a little bit of a shock. Tiff had tried to prepare me for what was to happen, but it was something I had to experience to really truly understand. The baggage area was crazy; mobbed with people trying to find their luggage on the floor next to the conveyer belt. I had to go in and get our 4 pieces of luggage as Tiff waited (patiently) on the outside with a cart. I got them and we struggled through a final checkpoint to the outside.

We got outside into a mob of porters dying to “help” you to get a few quick bucks. We got lucky and got a nice porter… and his friend. His friend was very persuasive as he told me the nice guy “knows where he is going, let him help.” I said “no” about a thousand times, but he had a grip on our cart so we just went with him. We met up with Den, Tiff’s old roommate Miquette’s brother. He is such a nice guy! We went to the truck, and the porters wanted a tip. We didn’t have much to give, but I get the feeling that it didn’t matter how much we gave them; it wouldn’t have been enough.

We started our drive out of the airport parking lot into the city. The drive was pretty long, about 10-15 minutes. I am used to beautiful architecture, stop lights, and paved, smooth roads. This was not the case. Port-au-Prince is still in a lot of poverty, which really opened my eyes. We drove by houses made of metal signs with people in dirty clothes and no shoes walking around. The roads put the car in a constant state of rocking. Den navigated like a pro, knowing exactly where he was going. There are no traffic laws that I could see as honking meant that the car was turning and the person coming better stop.

We drove past ruins of buildings, now occupied by one of the thousands of people left homeless in the earthquake. The walls along the road painted with graffiti depicting the artist’s vote in the last election. People along the street selling their wares as we passed by. I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb; a pale, red-bearded “blan” with a look of slight shock on his face. It was a humbling experience.

We finally arrived at the school and met the director. He was super nice and helped us move our bags in our apartment. We talked a while about the classes I may or may not be teaching and about the teachers who would be there. Tiff and I looked at our apartment and our bags and realized what we had before us; moving into our first apartment! I cranked on the air conditioning and the fans and got to work. Tiff remembered she left a bunch of stuff in her old apartment so we spent a bunch of time moving that down with the teacher that moved into her new room, Amber. It was nice to meet her!

Before Tiff and I could really start moving in stuff, we got word that the new teachers would be walking to the directors house for dinner. Tiff and I hadn’t eaten for a while, so we went! We met the new teachers, who are all amazing! We headed out to the streets to walk to Steve’s house. This was my chance to walk through what we had driven through earlier. It was just as eye-opening the second time around. I talked with Robbie, the High School Bible teacher. It was a nice conversation about what had led up us being there. We finally made it to Steve’s house.

We ate homemade pizza outside on the patio and talked. It was so delicious. After we got done eating, the girls went inside to clean and the guys stayed out and talked (stereotype much?). We had such a good conversation about Christian Contemporary Music, drinking, and a few others. The guys were so surprised about what had transpired for me yesterday. I hadn’t thought of it until then.

Yesterday was the beginning of a lot of things. I had my first plane ride to a third-world country where I would be doing something that I have never been prepared for; teaching. Pretty crazy, right? The first time that I traveled anywhere on a plane was Haiti. To live. And teach. Culture shock city.

Today Tiff and I finished unpacking. Since it was Sunday, there was church going on all around the school. The sounds of worship from the chapel next to our room woke us up and was the soundtrack to our unpacking. It was nice. That is one main thing that is different that I have noticed about Haiti; the noise. There is noise everywhere, all the time. Whether it is horns honking, people yelling, motorcycles revving. I wanted to take a shower today, because of all the heat and… sweat. However, our water didn’t work. Tiff said the shower was a trickle, but when I turned on the water, it was nothing. So, I decided to wash my hair in the sink. The water worked at first, then started to slow… after my hair was lathered up. I had to grab a cup and wait with my head in the sink as the cup filled up with the dripping water. As I did that, the sound of a woman singing wafted in through the window. It was in Creole, but I could tell it was worship. Most people would complain about the noise, but I like it.

While this is a crazy experience, I feel it will be a transforming one. I am way out of my comfort zone, which is right where God wants me to be. I am blessed to have this opportunity. I am serving God, with my wife. I am excited for how God will work on me these next two years!

I will be using this blog to put into writing my experience in this foreign land. I’m sure I will have plenty to write about. My wife will be chiming in every once and a while with insights from her 2nd year.

-Jarrett