Kim Priore

…why it is, that on the weekends, I miss my Nana and my brother and sister-in-law so much more

…why, just when I think I have someone figured out, they throw me a change-up that knocks me off balance

…why, when someone is about to say something, and for a split second I think I know what it is, it turns out to be something completely different

…how the next year of my life is going to play out…and the one after that…and the one after that…

…when I will learn to trust God and believe that he has a plan for me, and stop stressing about my future

…if I will ever be able to see myself as “God’s workmanship”

…if saying goodbye ever gets any easier

…if saying hello ever gets any easier

…if being alone ever gets any easier

“Whatever you do anyway, remember that these things are mysteries and that if they were such that we could understand them, they wouldn’t be worth understanding. A God you understood would be less than yourself.” – Flannery O’Connor

Happy September everyone.  There are officially only 2 weeks left in my summer.  We have two important topics to cover in today’s blog post:  the follow-up call to my Haiti report the MTV Video Music Awards. 

So, in chronological order:  the VMAs.  What was up with these?  I was profoundly disappointed.  I love a good award show.  I’ll watch them all, even the kind of obscure ones they only show on cable.  And I always have fond memories of the VMAs from when I first arrived in DC and they were on the same night as our ‘welcome interns’ potluck, and a few of us trekked down to the Hard Rock Cafe to watch them since there was no cable at the intern house.  (We had the world’s worst set of directions courtesy of Spivey, but that’s another story.)  But yeah they just sucked this year.  I love Jack Black and all, but the overall production value of the show was in the toilet.  While no one captured the not-so-coveted “puppy fight” distinction (i.e. “I would not wear that dress to a puppy fight” – tm SW), even the fashions weren’t exciting.  Jessica Simpson looked like a hooker, JLo needed some darker lipstick, she looked like a cancer patient.  And I know I’m in the minority, but I’m really over Shakira.  I think that song should be called “My Ribs Don’t Lie” because she’s so skinny she looks like she just wandered out of a concentration camp.  Have a sandwich.  At any rate, when I see things like the Jackass guys on stage, it makes me profoundly sad that any of them have ever drawn a paycheck in their lives  This country is messed up. 

Anyhoo…on a much brighter note, this morning I had my follow-up call with the organization I was reporting for in Haiti.  The president couldn’t be on the call, but he told the guy who was to ask me ‘when I could come to work for BH in Haiti.’  Woo!  I was able to answer some questions and clarify some things about my time in Pignon, and then was also able to outline for him where I see myself going after graduation and what my ideal job would entail.  So that put me in a fabulous mood.  I’m feeling very Oprah.  (Shan and I have a tradition dating back to college where when one of us is having a good career day and feeling like we have prospects and options, that person is Oprah for the day, and the other is Gail, Oprah’s best friend who pretty much makes her living by riding Oprah’s coat tails.)  It’s great to feel employable.  I mean I’ll never be the Jackass guys or anything, but it doesn’t hurt to dream…

Life at 7 Fairview these days is very dull.  I read other people’s blogs and wish I had something witty to contribute.  My average day lately consists of: sleeping, running errands, drinking coffee, surfing the net, aforementioned random outbursts of crying, more sleeping, and watching movies.  I joined Netflix, this was my big excitement for the day. 

The Emmy’s were a highlight of my week – how did Stephen Colbert lose to Barry Manilow?  I add this to the list of the mysteries in the universe.  As if we needed more evidence that sometimes life is just random and unfair.  In other entertainment news I finally saw Pirates of the Caribbean, and I’m out to steal Orlando away from Deirdre.  It’s my new mission in life.

For those interested, I did finish up my report for Bright Hope, got it printed up all professional-like, and FedExed it off on Monday.  The proposal from the chicken coop people is for a new batch of chickens to replenish the supply.  The new chickens can’t be raised from the existing ones because they lost so many at the beginning that in order to keep up the egg supply, which people have come to count on, they need new chickens.  So we’ll see what happens there.  I’ve discovered that it’s a lot of pressure to try and write when you feel like the protein supply of a couple hundred people is resting on your ability to make a case for it.  Obviously that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but nevertheless, a new kind of pressure for me.  But also it’s weird to have that all over and done with, it’s like, the Haiti trip is really over and I don’t know when the next one will be.  But for now it’s time to switch gears and get back into ivory tower – academic – moving in the halls of power – type of mode.  Ugh.

There’s a lot of cleaning happening here these days, big yard sale happening on the 16th, tell your friends.  Nana’s apartment is being cleaned out in preparation for a friend who’s moving in for a couple of months.  Doug’s room is being cleaned out because he left behind so much crap I can’t even take it and we’re not storing it for 2 years, so out it goes.  I can’t decide if it’s a good feeling to be clearing out the clutter and making a fresh start, or if I just plain hate change.  I think both.  Both can be true…repeat after me…both can be true…this is what you learn in therapy.  Good times.

And why is it 60 and raining at the end of August?  My jean jacket was not due to make an appearance for at least another month, and yet here it lies.  No fair.  At any rate, that about does it for the world’s dullest blog post.  Good night.

The flowers have mostly died, the sympathy cards have slowed to a trickle, fruit baskets have stopped arriving, the phone has stopped ringing off the hook, my schedule has started to free up.  I don’t dread wakes, and funerals, and the accompanying activities the way some people do.  I’ve had enough experience with death to know that in a twisted way, that’s actually the fun part.  THIS is the part I dread.  The part when it’s time to ‘move on.’  The part when it gets quiet.  The part when I’m left alone with my thoughts and my memories and my regrets.

In time I know I will forget the bad stuff.  I know I’ll forget what it was like to see my Nana slow down, become forgetful, and lose the independence she so prized.  In the same way I know that the pain of letting her go will ease and I’ll stop randomly bursting into tears without warning.  But in the meantime I exist in this liminal space of knowing it’s time to move on, and not yet being able to.

So it’s been awhile since I blogged.  I wasn’t kidding, I really am home from Haiti.  It’s just been a bit of a whirlwind since then.  The aforementioned Sox game, SoulFest, nuptuals, etc…all went off without a hitch.  Then not a week after I got home, we lost my Nana, in the middle of the night, just like that she was gone.  Quiet and unassuming, in death as in life. 

Then my brother and his wife left to teach school in Israel for 2 years.  So it’s been a period of goodbyes.  Maybe not goodbyes, but “so long”s.  “TTFN”s for the Tigger fans out there.  So long to my friends in Haiti, so long to a friendship that was not as honest as I thought, so long to my beloved Nana, so long to my larger than life brother and rock solid sister-in-law.  All in a span of about 3 weeks.  I’m kind of tired.

As a result of all this, I’ve been thinking a lot about passing.  About how people pass through our lives for brief periods of time, really.  And we place so much stock in them; what they think of us, how many of them we can gather around us, what they can do for us, what we can do for them.  Rather than taking the time to sit back and enjoy the grace of just being with them, and thanking God for whatever brief time he allows us to have.  That’s one of the things I learned from visiting my Nana toward the end of her life, was that it was possible to just enjoy being in someone’s presence.  She might not remember that I was here, an hour from now, a day from now, and she’s not going to remember what I’m telling her.  But right now, in this moment, she is overjoyed just to be with me.  She claps like a little kid when I walk into the room.  No one else does that.  I doubt anyone else ever will. 

But the grace I have received from friends in these past days and weeks has reminded me that time is one of the most precious gifts we can give.  People have emailed, called, sat with me, posted myspace comments, taken me to dinner, and just generally let me feel their presence.  Whether you took 5 minutes, or you’ve spent 5 days on the “is Kim about to stick her head in the oven?” watch…I appreciate it.  I may not have called back or responded right away, but I appreciate it.  And I’m doing alright…low energy…tend to burst into tears sort of randomly without warning…but doing alright. 

…to let everyone know that I am home, safe and sound.  Thank you all so much for the cards, notes, emails, blog comments, prayers and all-around support.  Tonight I’m going to sleep in an air-conditioned room with a full stomach, having watched the Red Sox achieve a come-from-behind victory in the bottom of the 9th.  This truly is a great country.  Despite being so tired I could throw up, I have seldom been happier.  Tomorrow I’m leaving for Soul Fest (Woo! Go Who Stands!) and a couple of days of R&R.  At some point hopefully I can post the final chapter of my amazing journey out of Haiti, it’s the stuff that legends are made of, seriously.  I’m excited to see everyone at the wedding Saturday or church on Sunday or whenever, and catching up with you all.

Tonight my friends in Pignon go to sleep not knowing if the next mosquito bite means malaria, the next drink of water means typhoid, or the next military coup spells trouble for them and their loved ones.  My prayer is that I won’t forget them in the craziness of life here, and that God will make me worthy of being their friend, because it’s an honor I don’t deserve.  They have inspired me, loved me, humbled me, braided my hair, sung to me, fed me, let me ride their donkeys, gotten me across rushing rivers in one piece, and made me laugh.  I will see them again soon, “si Dye vle.” (God willing). 

Goodnight from the Home of Champions,

“Blan Kim”

It’s hard to explain the joy of the Haitian people until you’ve experienced their stoicism day in and day out.  These people face more challenge and hardship in one day that I will likely face in my whole life.

Today we got rain.  It came in the afternoon: hard, driving, soaking rain – the kind that makes debris lying around a yard rise up and float away.  Prior to this it was a very busy morning for me.  We basically packed about two weeks of work into one day.  Make that  half of one – we were done by 2:30.  It began with our scheduled 8:30 meeting with the chicken coop committee, which convened promptly at 10:45.  I got all of my questions answered, heard about how difficult it is to keep this small business afloat, their determination to make it succeed, to learn from their mistakes and setbacks and make it better.  I also got a good look at the sugar mill and an update on that, not to mention a marriage proposal from a toothless guy with a wife and a few kids at home.  Sweet.  Then Jephthe took me to the homes of a few people who had purchased eggs from the chicken farm, brought them home and hatched them, built their own little coops, and are replicating the project on a smaller scale.  One guy hopes the eggs will help pay his way toward finishing high school.  Through the streets and backyards your intrepid reporter traipsed, over sugar cane husks, trash, and Lord knows what else.  I even got my donkey ride!  Yes it’s on video and yes (Dad and Doug I’ll just beat you to it here) I made an ass of myself.

In the meeting this morning, sweltering under a tin roof, swatting at flies, and enjoying the smell of a couple hundred chickens, it occurred to me how very different this was from a business meeting in the States.  I looked at the little chicken coops that people had slapped together in their yards – not trying to be mean but to the untrained eye they look, well, pathetic.  You have to know what they represent to see the hope therein.  On the way back, Jephthe pointed out the house where Sanon grew up, which is really quite decent for here, but which was just a harsh reminder that this world contains disparities which divide people who migh otherwise see eye to eye.  It made me angry and sad.

So I mulled all this over this afternoon as I napped and attempted to sleep off a headache.  Then the rains came.  When rain comes in Haiti, life comes to a stop.  They’ll cancel class, close up shop – I’m not kidding, my kind of place.  So the crowd on the front porch of the guest house had started to grow and I went out to see what was up.

There was a card game going on, Mitou was having her hair braided, the kids were splashing in the growing lake in the front yard, and Jephthe was – well – being Jephthe.  He couldn’t contain his joy at the much-needed rain, and the prospect that we might have working showers before I left.  As lightning split the sky and deafening thunder echoed off Mt. Pignon, the mood was one of general revelry.  Over and over I kept hearing peppered throughout the conversation the word “dlo,” the Creole word for water.

Immediately I started to worry about what this would mean for our drive to Cap tomorrow.  Jephthe just shrugged: “God will make a way somehow.”  I finally had to catch myself and say, Has God not provided everything else for this trip?  And not in my timing, but in His?  Look around, I thought.  Look at these people who could find so much to worry and complain about, and instead they’re rejoicing in the “dlo.”  Even Mitou, who rarely speaks in English unless I ask her something, was beaming up at me from under her half-braided afro, “God is good.”

This is the point in the trip at which I’m supposed to have it all figured out, and present you with such nuggets of wisdom as, “They’re poor but still so happy, and so giving.  And the children broke my heart.”  And those things are to some extent true.  But they’re not happy all the time, there’s nothing romantic about a poverty that means you can’t feed your kids.  Both Caleb and Jephthe have had problems since I’ve been here with empoyees stealing from them.  At times I know I’ve been the object of not-so-kind laughter.  And quite frankly, y’all, begging kids can get annoying after awhile.

The truth of the matter is that people are people no matter where you go.  There are nice ones and mean ones and inspiring ones and those that will disappoint you.  There’s not much you can do about that.  But it’s a sinful, fallen world that says it’s ok for Jephthe’s kids to grow up here while ours grow up wanting for nothing.  I hate it when people try to explain Haiti’s poverty with simplistic answers about work ethic or alcohol or Vodou.  But I hate it even more when they seem ok with it.  And so I’ll do my small part to change it, not because I think I can, but because I’m not ok with it.

I wrote this entry out longhand in my journal because the power’s not on yet and even if it was, it’s still raining too hard to try and make it over to the cyber cafe (Hey, when in Haiti…).  I may have to build an ark to make it to Cap tomorrow.  For all I know this is some huge tropical storm, not like I’ve seen a forecast in 2 weeks.  What I do know is that tonight, God has sent “dlo” to people who know how to rejoice in it.  And I’m really honored to be with them.

Greetings all, from rainy Pignon.  This is good news, they really need rain.  Every day we get like a little bit, but we haven’t had a good rainstorm since I’ve been here, this is the first.

So the word is I’m staying one more day in Pignon and leaving for Cap Tuesday morning.  I just have to trust that we’ll get there in time for my flight and that everything will work out.  It’s going to be a long day of travel, what with the four hour drive to Cap and then the MFI flight which can take up to 4 hours, depending on how many stops we make.  BUT the good news is, Pastor Jephthe insisted on a Tuesday departure, because, he says, we have much to accomplish tomorrow.  You’re tellin’ me, I say.  So the day is kicking off with an 8:30 meeting with the chicken farm and sugar mill people, that I actually get to attend and ask my questions in person, so I’m really happy about that.  And I got to clarify some things with him tonight about the water project, so that’s good too.  So slowly but surely things are coming together and I *think* I will get what I need to do my job.

So today was pretty slow, the highlights were church (it’s a stretch to call that a highlight but hey it was something to do) AND getting my hair braided, Haitian style.  So I shall look quite fabulous when I get back.  Ronise did it, who’s a 19 year old girl who lives with Jephthe and Mitou.  And of course there was like a committee around her consulting and offering opinions, even Mitou came out at one point, circled me, gave some instructions in Creole that necessitated Ronise taking out some braids and re-doing them, it was quite the production. 

One of the amazing things about this community is the way they take in kids in need.  Jephthe and Mitou had already taken in like 2 kids before they even had one of their own, and now they have Ronise too.  Even Pa and Ma Sidoine, who have like 9 grown kids, have at least one foster kid that I know of right now.  And they’ve had numerous ones over the years.  Moise, the one they have now, is 2 years old and is SO CUTE.  I have many photos and videos of Mo.  But apparently he’s from one of the villages where they have a satellite church, and his mom was like crazy or whatever, and they were trying to do something about it, and the last straw was when the mother tied him up in a tree by one arm.  This is when he was like 3 or 4 months old.  So sad.  And taking care of the kids is like a community thing, it’s very different from our conception of like the nuclear family that sits down to eat every night.  I miss that, but at the same time it’s kind of cool to observe this kind of community.  But also, Bos Ely, who was our boss on the worksite last year, was one of the first foster kids that Pa and Ma Sidoine took in.  I didn’t know that.

Anyways, so tomorrow looks to be a busy day, and an early night as we will be leaving at the CRACK of dawn on Tuesday.  (There’s a rumor that the car we’re taking to Cap is air conditioned.  I don’t know if I’m that lucky but I’m holding out hope.)  Hopefully I will have time for one more post, but if not, you all can assume no news is good news.

Which reminds me – a footnote:  I hear there’s been some stories about the troubles in Port au Prince in the news recently.  To be honest I’ve stopped reading my Google alerts for Haiti while I’m here, because they seem so completely unrelated to the reality I’m living.  And I know that it’s not unrelated, obviously, the instability there is the reason they don’t have good roads here.  All politics is local, ultimately.  But Port au Prince is 12 hours by car, and all the violence seems light years away from the people I’m meeting here.  And Cap has been very quiet.  So please continue to keep Haiti in your prayers, and at the same time rest assured I have felt very safe the whole time I’m here, and the people who live here all the time, both Haitians and Americans, are not worried at all. 

So that’s all, good night from peaceful, rainy Pignon!

Oh we’re rockin’ out people.  Choir practice is going strong…choir practice is where they sing the same song for roughly 2 hours at MAXIMUM volume…and then I get to hear it again in church tomorrow.  Woo!

So the word on Pastor Jephthe is that his malaria test came back negative but they’re treating him anyways…apparently this is common.  Kara tells me at the Pignon hospital they will give you 3 things: chloroquine (the malaria drug), vitamin C, and penicillin.  So we’re not sure what’s wrong with him, it’s possible that the test is a false negative, also possible that it’s some mystery illness.  He’s really bummed out about not feeling well, and I feel really bad for him.  However he was up and around a little bit today, unlike yesterday when I didn’t see  him all day and I basically retreated up the hill to Caleb and Debbie’s with Kara for the whole day.  I feel bad not hanging around the guest house more, but I can’t tell you how exhausting it is to feel like you’re being stared at all the time by people you can’t communicate with.  And with Jephthe ill I’ve been eating by myself which is just like the pinnacle of pathetic for me.  I have to like psych myself up to go out for breakfast, because when you’re the only one eating you can’t hide it if you don’t like it.  Anyways, sorry to vent but I was having kind of a bad attitude today.

BUT it got SO much better when Jephthe announced that “they” were doing “something” related to the water project, and that I could go down and see it and take pictures.  Woohoo!  I’m like what, 9 days into this trip and I get to start doing my job?  Sweet.  So it was great because Phenes and Joe and a bunch of the guys who live at Caleb’s took me and Kara down to the site and it was sort of a joint interpreting effort.  For those who were here before, it’s like the walk down to the river but just not all the way…but so basically climbing down a really steep sort of stream bed only with no water, just some mud…so I’m in a skirt…thankfully a shorter one today…totally neglected to put on the nice sturdy Teva sandals that I bought so I’m rockin’ like the cheap Target flip-flops, but I totally don’t care.  I’m like hopping over logs and from rock to rock (Dougie, totally like New Hampshire when we used to be all Indiana Jones and climb the rocks!) and snapping pictures and taking notes, and for like about 15 minutes I was Kim Priore, Intrepid Third World Girl Reporter.  I’m goin’ all Christiane Amanpour.  So anyways, they’re basically hooking up this big electric pump that will take water from the spring, pump it up to the top of the mountain where it gets processed, and then distribute it down the town.  Or something.  I’m a little fuzzy on the details, but hey, that’s Haiti.

Jephthe also assures me that he has “people” working on “reports” for me, and that he’s on top of the info for BH.  He was hoping the reports would be in tonight, but so far no dice.  So I’m just hoping they’re in with enough time to spare for me to read them over and ask any follow-up questions.  It looks like I’m most likely leaving Pignon sometime on Monday and spending the night in Cap for my flight out on Tuesday.  I forget what I’ve posted already and I’m too lazy to go back and look, but Kara has decided she wants to go home for a little break, so she’s on my MFI flight, as well as Ma Sidoine and some of the grandkids she’s flying back to Florida.  Or something.  Again, you learn not to expect details.  But it’s nice to know there will be a bunch of Pignon-ians on my flight back to keep me company.  At any rate it’s looking like tomorrow will be my last full day in Pignon!  Crazy.  I’m definitely ready to come home, and will be processing for weeks to come but at this point, am totally glad I came and it’s been a character building experience for sure, but just very different than I think I expected.  Not sure what I expected really.  I’m rambling, and that’s what my journal’s for.

So anyways, that’s all for now folks, hopefully I’ll get to do one last post, we’ll see, but for now, hope you’re all having a fabulous weekend!

Hey guys – not much to report today as it was a pretty slow day for me.  BUT bigtime prayer request…Pastor Jephthe has malaria.  He was complaining of not feeling well yesterday on the trip to Cap, and was worse this morning so they made him go to the doctor.  Those in the malaria know (basically everyone except me, they’ve all had it multiple times) say that he caught it early enough (unlike last time when he stubbornly refused to go to the doctor) that he should start feeling better in a day or so.  They also say, however, that when you have to do the malaria treatment in such huge doses all at once that it makes you feel really run down and crappy.  So this is a prayer request on a number of levels…OBVIOUSLY first and foremost for Jephthe…what I should have mentioned yesterday is that the reason he was late leaving for Cap is he was preaching at a prayer meeting at church…as in a prayer meeting that meets before the sun’s even up.  Then after we got back from that hellish ride, he didn’t even have time to sit and eat, he was off to lead a Bible study.  All of this on no sleep because they have an 18-month-old and a newborn.  The man’s amazing, he never stops going.  So I’m very concerned for him.  Also, not to be selfish and make it about me…but this is what I get for trying to be all laid back and Haitian and not pepper him with a million questions all at once.  Now time is running out for me to get the info I need for Bright Hope, and I’m trying not to panic about it.  So anyways, if you all could keep him in prayer, as well as me that whatever God wants me to accomplish on this trip he will make happen and that I will just have to trust in that. 

Other than that, I’m being very chill.  I’m up at Caleb and Debbie’s right now, and with our few hours of city power the kids are watching Return of the Jedi.  Hardly roughing it.  But eventually I’ll have to return to the guest house and the no running water.  Oh well.  A few more days and I’m home!  Love to you all.  And bigtime shout out to Jamie for hooking me up with the malaria pills!  Good thing I covered that base.