Haiti Journal - Thursday, March 26, 2009

Today was our last work day.  We have accomplished so much!  The whole basketball court and all 3 hoops are up.  We even had Pastor Manno shoot the first basket (which he made on his first attempt) (see photo above).  Three soccer camps today and all the donated clothing and soccer equipment was given away.  6th grade students were in testing today...I took a quick photo of a classroom (see above).  You'll note that the students were wearing different uniforms.  That's because students from many different schools came to Pillatre today for their tests.  This was a practice test to help them prepare for the final test in June that will decide if they get to pass 6th grade.

We also had soccer cleats to give away today.  It was very difficult to decide which children would get the shoes.  There were only 11 pairs.  Some larger sizes, some very small, and most in the middle.  With the first group of very small children, I walked up and down the rows and took a look at the shoes they already had.  There was a boy in beat up Nike sandals.  And, when I say beat up, what I mean is that the soles were completely worn through at the heels.  He was my first choice.  I thought he looked 5 or so years old, but the Haitian kiddos all look smaller than American children their age--so he was probably 6. Then, I saw a girl in purple sandals and her toes were hanging over the tops.  She was maybe 4. 

I quickly picked out one more child and while the main body of kids filed out the door, I took those three by the hands and stood to the side.  One of the Haitian teachers came over and tried to make the children go, but I gestured that they were to stay.  I led the first boy to a chair and had him sit.  I smiled and him and sized up his little feet.  I made a guess as to what pair would fit him--and was right!  They were perfect.  I brushed off the bottoms of his feet with my hands and undid the laces of the shoes so that his feet would slide in.  I tightened the laces and tied a bow.  He smiled and said something excitedly to the other two children.  I smiled at him, kissed my hands and patted his shoes.  "Bendzye bene ou!" I said (God bless you).  He said, "Mesi!" and hopped down from the chair.  I put his old shoes in a plastic bag and let him take them home.  Then, it was the little girl's turn.  She sat down and I took off her sandals, the velcro was barely holding.  I brushed off her feet and put on a pair of white socks.  Then, I picked out a pair of cleats for her.  They were too small--too hard to get on.  So, I tried another pair and they were just right.  She smiled as I put on both shoes and tightened and tied the laces.  I hugger her tight and said "Bendzye bene ou!" to her, too.  She thanked me and I took her picture (above) in her new shoes before she took her old shoes in a bag.  I followed the same procedure for the the third child, a little boy.  He was equally excited and grateful.  Tears streamed down my cheeks the whole time I fitted those three for shoes.  I wasn't crying--I was elated.  And yet, I couldn't stop the tears amid my smile.  It was a very humbling experience.  I longed to be able to show the people who made those donations just how happy they had made these adorable little kids.  

When it was time for the middle-graders' camp at 10:30, I decided to play, too.  I played with the boys first and I think they were impressed.  I schooled them all.  I kicked corner kicks to a group of them and they took shots on goal.  Several of them took turns being goalie.  It was so fun!  I had been hesitant to join in the play until today because I didn't want to turn an ankle or something and be out of commission for the week.  (It wouldn't have been hard to do, given the rocks and divots in the field.)  But today was the last day, so I was in.  I played a game or two with the girls, too, which was fun.  They weren't afraid to get physical with me!  I got elbowed, shoved, and several girls tried to trip me.  I pushed and elbowed right back.  It was all in fun. They liked to see me score and cheered for me.  We played for over an hour!  

When everyone was tired, they began to straggle off the field.  There was a toddler who stood just off the field where his older sister was playing and suddenly, the ball came at him and a crowd of girls trampled him.  They went off down the field, leaving him in tears and screaming. I walked over and scooped him up, patting his back and wiping his tears.  I rocked with him and soothed him until he stopped crying.  Then, I carried him over to a shady spot under a tree and sat down with him.  Soon, a few other children gathered, too, including a girl who was the same size and build as my daughter.  They were all so sweet.  I took their picture and let them see themselves on the display.  They are amazed by cameras because they rarely see themselves in photos. Then, they began inspecting and grooming me.  One girl picked the dirt from under my fingernails with her own dirty fingers and a boy scratched the streaks of mud that had dried on my legs.  They are so fascinated by my sunburned, mosquito bitten skin.  They touch each red, swollen bite mark (there are so many!).  They also like my blonde hair and green eyes.  They run their little fingers through my hair and take my face in their hands to get a close look.  One little girl was worried about the sunburn on the back of my neck, and kept trying to pull my shirt collar up over it to shield my skin.  

I gave away barrettes that I brought from home today, too.  Oh, and they LOVE to blow my whistle!  I gave one of my whistles to a Haitian woman who had helped us a lot with the soccer camps and another to Willem, a teacher who also helped.

The older boys showed up again today for another game.  Omar is my friend.  They all show me a lot of respect and call me "Coach."  Today, during the second half of their game, there was a hand ball.  Suddenly, all the players were yelling--there was a heated debate about something...  And they turned to me and motioned insistently for me to come onto the field.  I thought it was a pretty obvious foul, so at first I told them to work it out.  But, they were insistent.  Two of them came over and pulled me onto the field.  My heart was pounding so hard!  I wasn't afraid, exactly, but definitely intimidated.  I didn't want to get stuck in the middle of a crowd of 20 angry Haitian men!  They had been playing intensely and aggressively, so they were really worked up.  There was even a large crowd that had gathered to watch!  

So, there I was in the middle of the field, trying to figure out what these young men were shouting about.  After a few minutes, I realized that they were arguing over whether the hand ball took place INside or OUTside of the penalty box (which wasn't marked).  They wanted ME to make a call.  Since the field was so small, I decided it was outside the penalty box and said so.  I awarded a penalty kick and the argument was over.  They lined up the kick as I left the field, my heart still pounding.  The kick did NOT result in a goal...whew.  A few people later commented that they had showed a great deal of respect for me in that situation--and had held me in high esteem.  Imagine that!