How would you better Haiti if you had 40,000 white body bags left over and at your disposal? This is my predicament and I am willing to consider all answer no matter how ridiculous....
 
We have pulled and tightened the Hoop Barn so getting close to finishing the 4th biggest thing I've ever built. It will store all the medical supplies for the MOH Clinic and is located next to the Patient Ward.
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We’ve moved from PMH (Presbyterian Mission to Haiti) with Charles to MOH (Mission of Hope). The orphanage we helped build and operate is now fully run by Haitians. Charles and PMH will manage a steady and self sufficient orphanage. We still plan to attend church at PMH every Sunday and spend the afternoon with the kids. Our goal coming to Haiti was to work with orphans and we feel God continues to lead and transform the kids in our orphanage. With that being said, the earthquake changed everything.

Never, since the revolution, has Haiti been so fertile for change. The world is focused on Haiti and wanting to help. We want to come along side people we believe are continuing to evoke change post earthquake. Since arriving in Haiti, we have taken our sick orphans to the MOH clinic and befriended many of the staff here. MOH is a giant organization comprised of a school, a church, an orphanage (59 boys and girls), a warehouse, and a hospital. They partner with Convoy of Hope (COH has shipped 90+ containers to MOH since the earthquake with relief supplies) and Haiti One (HO distributed 15,000 meals a day all over Haiti prior to the earthquake and since has concentrated on emergency relief while maintaining their daily meals). Before the earthquake, the clinic here was about to shut down because of funding. Yet, in the silver lining of the earthquake, God has provided exponentially for the clinic. They now have the only sterile operating room in Haiti, so all surgical needs from PAP come here. Last week, they opened a prosthetic lab. MOH is constructing new buildings to bring in 150 more orphans. New guest houses, new gymnasium, new supply barns.

Since arriving, Jay and I have been building a hoop barn to store the mountains of medical supplies finally arriving in containers after the earthquake. Diana has been working in the clinic organizing and filing patient reports. As for what our fixed roles might be one day, we are working with the MOH President and they range from construction manager to team host to clinic assistant.

Several observations and facts since arriving:

MOH is fencing in the whole 58 acre property. A man from Texas who owns a fence company is present and working on it with his team. His company is the same company that was awarded the contract to build the fence along the Mexico/US border. His top two fence foremen, both Mexicans, got deported from America while working on the Mexico/US fence and are now here in Haiti at MOH working on our fence. Nice guys, though.

Dr. Cheryl is a chiropractor and a life saver. I fell on my back Super Bowl Sunday onto concrete. I’m not blaming anybody (Toby Landry) or their educational background (LSU graduate) but since then my upper back has hurt every time I attempt to take a deep breath. Dr. Cheryl checked me out and said one of my ribs shifted and needed to be popped back into place. She said it was tough to do and there was a chance I could fracture my rib in the process of putting it back in its rightful place. I shifted into a bizarre self hug contorted position and then she proceeded to push and BAM, I heard it snap back into place. Been breathing deep ever since.

I am sleeping in a tent now. Fitting because it seems everyone in Haiti is doing that these days.

Michelle Obama was planning on sleeping at MOH last night. I was excited because I was going to ask her to cut my hair. She got caught up in PAP and couldn’t make it. So I cut my own hair instead.
 
Yesterday, in 1985, I was born. So was Hans Christian Anderson. We both like stories. I like his stories, a lot. You might have heard some of them: “Thumbelina”, “The Snow Queen”, “The Ugly Duckling”, “The Little Mermaid”, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, and “the Princess and the Pea”. You should read these as he originally wrote them. They read graphic, phantasmal and slightly scary. Like 300, for kids. Here’s my birthday story.

During the night of April 1st, something amazing happened. Silence descended upon my room. In Haiti, I cannot stress how big of a deal this is. So in this quiet time, I began to detox. I was physically wiped out from continuously walking for two hours, back and forth about 70 yards, with 100 pound bean sacks on my back with 10 other guys en route to transport all 20 tons of the beans from a truck to a storage room for future food distributions. Unwilling to move, I picked up a pen and started writing. Without initially realizing it, I began to express all my joys, frustrations and fears collected from my last year of life. Writing, pausing, praying, getting distracted, refocusing, and writing. I finished this “letter to God” with a strong sense of unity. I felt alive and connected, with myself and God.

Someone brought a DVD player and projector down after the earthquake. I am not sure how high those things were on Urgent Needs List for Haiti but trust me, I’m very thankful it’s here. Jay and I watched Gladiator. Maximus is a man, period. I’d like to steal some of his traits. Thus after finishing the movie, I was in bed, awake and amped. That connectedness became present again. I grabbed my pod (iPod, yeah, I’m cool, I abbreviated iPod to pod) laying there tired but very awake praising God and jamming. I just kept getting more and more amped listening and praising.  At one point, I was standing upon my bed silently (it was very late) screaming and singing with my heart pumping pure Spirit adrenaline. I knew the enemy was trying to attack; random thoughts, images and cramps became present to try and interrupt or calm this growing intensity of love beaming through me to God… albeit to no avail. I eventually fell back onto my bed face up, arms wide, laughing to myself with warm sensations washing over me again and againI woke up refreshed. Then someone reminded me it was my birthday.

So beginning my 26th year of life and celebrating 25 of them, I went on a walk. I walked with the filmers here on a path and direction I have never been. It was beautiful. Lots of kids and kites. Lots. And we walked through some super slum areas. Not the friendliest people. So we walked a little bit faster. Found Stavi(I’ve linked his facebook profile if you’d like to befriend him) then saw way too many people bathing then finally returned. It was a long walk.

We ate lunch then decided we were gunna visit the rum factory down the street. We walked down and waited for Marcus to arrive to give us a tour.  While waiting, Stavi thought he saw a snake so he was throwing rocks at this over arching tree stump on the steep face of the riverside embankment making half scared half curious faces that literally had me and Jay side by side looking at each other to make sure the other was seeing the same thing. It was nice to laugh. Then we decided to wait inside the rum factory compound. I saw Makinglove (yeah, that’s pronounced like its spelled) and put together that his dad was the security man there. Makinglove was flying his kite, like most kids here are doing these days, inside this compound and then suddenly yelled over the wall and rushed off tying his unattended high flying kite to a bus. Once he was out of sight, I stood up and untied it from the bus and began letting go higher and higher. It has been a long time since I tried to fly a kite. This was evident because several times under my amateur guidance the kite nosedived, plummeting to earth at space speeds. Right when I was getting the hang of it, Makinglove came back and wanted his kite. Geez, fine… kids, right?

Marcus finally came and took us on a tour, let us taste unfiltered mega fermented “moonshine” rum out of 55 gallon barrels. Still having trouble tasting anything. Then for 12 dollars when bought 24 bottles (50 cents a bottle) of Clairin Sonson Pierre-Gilles’s Kafe di Swa, the finest rum made in Messaille, Haiti. Then we went home, ate, changed, and went to Good Friday service. We walked in while a cute little girl was singing solo upfront with the microphone. I think the song was called, not sure if this is a direct translation but, “Ima Scream til Your Ears Bleed”. I didn’t like it.

After church, some people wanted to take their picture with me because it was my birthday. So I did karate poses with them for their phone cameras. Diana made me a cake, it was decorated with bananas, lollipops and gummy bear vitamins- . We all got to sit down and eat it together in celebration. And just like my 8th birthday, I had too much coke and cake and sugar crashed shortly after that.