My First Trip to Haiti: Part 1 by Saundie Weiss

 My first trip to Haiti was in July 2014.

There were things I expected to see and places I knew I would go. I knew it would be different from home. I knew that the people who live in third-world countries don’t have the same kind of days that I have. But, what I didn’t expect, and what no one can prepare you for, are the emotions that you feel when you see those things.

When I first met Abby and Denny and heard about their passion for Haiti and the long-term work they had been doing in Pignon, I was ready to go. I had wanted to take an overseas mission trip for a couple years. And I just knew that the Lord had been calling me to “go.” Honestly, Haiti wasn’t on my mind until I talked to Abby about it. I had never met someone who was relationally connected with their place of ministry like Abby and Denny were. I know there are many people like that, but I didn’t know any of them personally.

After a few weeks, maybe months, of thinking about Haiti and praying about the trip, I decided to go. My friend Kristyn was organizing a group of college students to go and decided to join them. It worked out really well because none of us had ever been to Haiti. Everything was new.

Abby and Denny prepared us for the trip really well. They described what Haitian culture is like, what Pastor Francois and his church is like, what differences we may see that might be hard, etc. Logistically and physically I was ready to go.

Whenever I arrive in foreign country—or any new place for that matter—I don’t like to stand out. I’d rather remain hidden until I can sort out what things mean and how people talk and get around. The last thing I want to do is call attention to myself. Well, in Haiti, white people stand out. I had to adjust to being seen all the time. As a proud introvert, though, that was tough. But once we arrived in Pignon, we spend a lot of the time on the compound where Pastor lives and where the orphanage and church are. When we did go out, every eye followed us. The kids in the streets liked to call out our presence with “Blan! Blan!” It means “white person.” This actually made me laugh.

Another big adjustment was the pace of life in Haiti. There is almost no urgency for anything. When we first arrived, we were so concerned with our schedule and what we would do (to help). But, after a while, we learned that we were the only ones concerned about that.

We spent a lot of time with the kids at the orphanage. Before arriving there, I thought that it would be very extravagant process. I don’t know what made me think that, but it wasn’t what I expected. It was quite simple, really. The kids we met, about 40 of them, were just like normal kids—playing, laughing, running around, or just hanging out. (Since it was summer, they were not in school). So that’s what we did with them—we played, we laughed, we just hung out with them. And it was wonderful. I picked up some small phrases in Kreyol, but I am pretty sure they spoke more English than I did Kreyol. Kids are smart, and much more forgiving with my attempts to converse in Kreyol.

I made friends there. I know them well. I know how they laugh and play and smile and talk to each other. I really wish I could speak their language better so I could get to know them even better. I have so many questions for them, and I want to know more about them. I want them to know that I understand—or don’t understand—but that I care about them.

I miss them now. I think of them almost every day since I’ve left. I know I’ll be back. They are in my heart. They don’t live very far away, but they do live in a different world. I’m still trying to reconcile how that works. Sitting here, writing this from my home, I see that I have so many more physical goods than they may ever know. I have more security and safety and protection than they will ever understand. This is what I struggle with. Why is this here for me, but not available for them?

There were many more new things that I experienced in Haiti, and it would probably take me a whole book to capture it all. The Haitians we met were so kind and welcoming. I am grateful and blessed that I was able to go.

Haiti, Pastor Francois, the beautiful children, the church, the people of Pignon. Forever and always in my heart. See you soon.