Haiti is a country of eyes. Shining eyes of little kids waving at you and running to keep up with your car. Watchful eyes in the market, following your every move. Eyes watching where your tuck your phone or your wallet. Tired eyes, balancing large baskets on their heads, arms laden with all kinds of things.
The poverty here is staggering. Its hard to see what the big 2010 earthquake destroyed, what is poverty, and what is lack of government infrastructure. Goats, motos (motorcycles), and children run the streets. Its organized chaos.
I am working this month with a ministry called Supply and Multiply. They do all kinds of different outreaches in this small town, Montrious (Monwi), Haiti. Mowi is small coastal town, the beaches have white rocks and deep turquoise water. The ministry has two homes for elderly people who were severely impoverished and on the brink of death. Supply and Multiply also does outreach to the neighborhood kids, many of whom are too poor to attend school.
Everyday mangos and bread fruit fall from the trees above our house and thunder down like a bomb on the tin roof. There is constant noise, screaming kids, roasters, and sometimes voodoo chanting.
I’ve made some new friends. Mostly in the way of neighborhood kids who love going nagee (swimming) or playing Uno. There is one neighborhood girl, around 3 years old who greets us with her favorite song, “somos blancs, blancs, blancs.” I believe it means, they are white, white white. Blanc is the casual term most kids and people have called us foreigners. It makes me laugh, its so different from the states.
Haiti is a mix of beauty and desperation. Each person wears their life story in their eyes. There is so much joy budding up against so much darkness.
A bible verse God has put on my heart for this place, “light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.” Amidst the pain and poverty, there is tremendous hope.
