Here we are at Hosanna Guest House in the outskirts of Les Cayes. It’s run by enthusiastic Evangelicals with a strict timetable for meals, a bell and Grace. Our ‘man on the ground’ here, Mali, is a young Pasteur and he chose it for us.This is not chronological as we haven’t had access to internet for a few days.
Foremost in our minds is the small mob of angry men who arrived at the Lumiere et Vie orphanage in Les Cayes where we started our workshops yesterday. We had just finished a very good session with the five translators who are working with us ( feast after famine )when we heard shouting. About 8 angry guys , one coming right into the orphanage and one in the background with a machete were shouting at Mali in a horribly threatening way. We thought at first it might be something to do with us – whites- being there but it was apparently a dispute about the land surrounding the orphanage. In the UK we might refuse planning permission but they do things differently here! Mali was very calm and patient and eventually they went away.
The last day at the FRADES orphanage at Croix de bouquets brought its now-familiar mixure of quite extreme emotions, doubts and certainties. You can’t help but make special connections to one or two of the children. Mine was to Michaela, a cheeky, raucous 13 year-old who wouldn’t join in anything, was a great mimic of my singing and Nathan’s but had such spirit and cried so hard and held onto me as we left.
Our set was thirty Fun for life in Haiti! balloons and the audience for the final showing to friends and any relatives was one appreciative mute mother, Pierre-Louis the toothless doorman and. Rachelle looking beautiful as ever. She had to finish some work on her computer until nearly half way through the show. Gerald was nowhere to be seen – off on his motorbike trying to find some food for the fete afterwards. Luckily he appeared just after we had started, to replace one of the two light bulbs we had for our lighting rig with the bulb from the girl’s dormitory. It was fairly chaotic of course but the kids loved doing it and they were very proud of themselves. Afterwards they had sausage rolls which were a meat treat. (We worry about how many have got the malnutrition characteristic of the distended belly.) I gave a short speech about FFL and Ali’s film and presented Gerald with the computer that Tamsin had brought from St Mary’s school and her excellent children’s book about street dancing. Then Gerald spoke warmly about us and the kids sung us the most tear-jerking song.
- So along come the doubts. These children have been abandoned so many times in their lives and here we are doing it to them again. There is no Facebook for them, no way we can keep in touch. Can we go back? Can we afford it? It’s cripplingly expensive here even now we have learnt how to find lifts in the back of pick-ups! If we send paper and coloured pens ( they don’t have either) would it get to them? Although I sobbed in the pick-up all the way back to our guest house, I genuinely believe we put some love, colour and energy into their lives and that the united Nathans –haha – and Tamsin are doing a terrific job.
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