The following work is adapted from an in-class essay I wrote based on The Vacation, a poem written by Wendell Berry.
The Vacation
by Wendell Berry
Once there was a man who filmed his vacation.
He went flying down the river in his boat
with his video camera to his eye, making
a moving picture of the moving river
upon which his sleek boat moved swiftly
toward the end of his vacation. He showed
his vacation to his camera, which pictured it,
preserving it forever: the river, the trees,
the sky, the light, the bow of his rushing boat
behind which he stood with his camera
preserving his vacation even as he was having it
so that after he had had it he would still
have it. It would be there. With a flick
of a switch, there it would be. But he
would not be in it. He would never be in it.
The Vacation, written by Wendell Berry, is an interesting poem. This piece introduces a whole new perspective about vacations. It is not your typical piece describing warm, sandy beaches and clear blue seas.”Once there was a man who filmed his vacation.” This introductory sentence stands out in a strange way. Most poems don’t start out like a story book. Instead of slowly revealing his purpose, the author lays it all out in the first sentence telling the reader everything he or she needs to know. The main subjects in this poem are the man’s camera and his vacation. This video camera captures the sights he catches glimpses of while on vacation: the river, the trees, the sky, the light, and the bow of his boat. The man was always behind the camera. He was never able to experience his vacation firsthand.
The poem gradually becomes more and more impersonal. The man who filmed his own vacation referred to his vacation as “it,” nine times. He talks as if “it” were someone else’s vacation and he was just an outside viewer with the privilege of a sneak peek.
The man becomes melancholy when he comes to the realization that with a click of a button, his vacation would appear right before his eyes. However, he would forever be absent. Never would he have the privilege of watching himself enjoy his vacation.
In Front of the Lens
I thought this would be appropriate to post on the #Fourth #of #July<–see what I did there?! Summertime. It’s when so many of us struggle to capture those “perfect” pictures of those “perfect” moments via Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and whatnot. While I have nothing against beautiful pictures and other memorabilia, I do believe that some occasions are meant to savor in the moment. Don’t constantly be “the man who filmed his vacation.” As I sit here writing this, there appeared in the sky, a single floating lantern. Nothing, I repeat NOTHING, dared to perturb its glorious conquest. The floating lantern, resembles enviable boldness and bravery. This majestic vessel leaves in the dust a spray of fireworks, which we often interpret as the bigger and better show. The lantern however, slowly and silently, swims upstream. Leaving behind the noisy explosions which are soon over in a matter of minutes. For its is quest longer lasting. This thing of beauty is also meant for observation. Undergo a few strokes upstream, and move behind the lens. I understand that this action is a scary one; we live in an age of “follow the leader.” Every one of us wishes to be a leader and not a follower. Look at the lantern’s example and Don’t be Absent From the Replay!
Today we had the privilege of visiting Haiti’s most elite trauma hospital, Medishare. Medishare is considered the Harbor view of Haiti. Most of Jeff and Terry’s first connections in Haiti worked here. Thankfully, we took Pierre’s–EMPACT Haiti worker–advice and visited on the day we did. I’ll a little bit more about EMPACT as I discuss the next couple of days.
Medishare is so unlike any hospital I’ve ever visited in the States. Based on information I’ve received previously, improvements seem to have been made to the complex. The hospital is very large and we were able to view a lot.
We interacted with patients suffering from all sorts of impairments. In the Spinal Injury Unit, we visited paraplegics and quadriplegics. The smiles on their faces by our simply being there were so rewarding. The director or PIC of the clinic said they hardly ever receive visitors because many feel intimidated. The place is intimidating. It arouses a sort of helplessness.
Scott, the PIC who showed us around the Spinal Injuries rooms is super neat. He does more than just his job. He helps patients learn basic life skills and encourages those who will eventually be able to go back into their communities. It’s hard enough finding a job in Haiti-especially with an unemployment rate of %80. When you add a handicap to that, it makes SURVIVAL even more difficult to achieve. The Spinal Unit began a sewing program so that once patients recovered they would have some means of supporting themselves. Jeff arranged for Jehovah Nissi School uniforms to be made by the unit!
@Kayla Nicole “Spinal Unit”
From the Spinal Unit, we went on to see the place where prosthetic limbs are mad are made. The place is super cool. The hospital is really blessed to have this at their immediate disposal. The captain of a soccer team for disabled guys helps oversee things! Team Zaryen is funded by Knights of Columbus and Medishare. The rules for this soccer league is very interesting. For example, one of the requirements for goalie position is that both of your arms must be missing! None of the players are allowed to play with a prosthetic and all must use crutches. Touching the ball with either crutch equals a hand-ball. I cannot even fathom how hard that sort of play must be.
My favorite part of our tour would have to be visiting the pediatric triage (ICU). One child, whom I was unable to see, had actually been hit by the president’s car. When I heard this, I was horrified. Seeing the preemie babies was a very precious and also heartbreaking. They were so, so, so tiny, yet perfectly formed (at least by external appearance). The youngest baby there had been born five months early. He had so many IV’s, masks, and tubes all over him that his body was hardly visible. I think there were five preemies total. All but one baby were in incubators. Pierre, another guide of ours, said that some are orphans. I pray that God heals them fully and restores them to their families. Nothing is more comforting that they all have a Heavenly Father who is constantly watching over them.
Last but certainly not least, we scoped out the room reserved exclusively for patients recovering from surgery and/or having a known disease. To say this place is somber would be quite an understatement.
After visiting the Medishare project, we went out to lunch. Mr. Clark (Jeff) discussed different locations, he finally decided on the Pizza Garden. Mr. Clark had previously taken a group of EMT’s there. One man cried over the cost of water. I want you to think about that for a moment. How often does our gratitude bring us to tears? This is a question I must ask myself constantly. Because I know, that while these trips provide me with a deeper perspective into my life, nothing is more easy than falling back into my normal routine after arriving home.
This place is no Pizza Hut. The restaurant is pretty ritzy. Most of the seating is outdoors and in the cool shade. Mr. Clark went in ahead of time–not because we were expecting a long wait–but because filling an order actually takes awhile. Our team is a good size too. While eating AMAZING food, we quickly debriefed our day thus far and discussed plans to drive to Rodney’s orphanage directly after lunch. Rodney said his place is “only fifteen minutes,” away from Port-Au-Prince. Hahaha, just a s midge farther my friend. I miss my Haiti team already, and we haven’t even headed back to the States yet! Rodney’s orphanage is in the mountains. A place considered “cold” by Port-Au-Prince residents. The cooler air was indeed a relief, but I didn’t go so far as to put on a sweatshirt just as Windy decided to do!
Rodney’s kids were all ready for us and dressed in their Sunday best. They are adorable. At first, when I first saw them I thought “wow!! They all look so healthy!” And some of them were, no doubt, but then I looked more closely. Many of the kids’ bellies were protruding. And not because they’d been eating well.
Rodney’s kids definitely inherited his gentleness and warm smiles. He is very organized. He has a lady working as a “director” who I guess manages everything and some friends who help to pitch in. Rodney has about the same amount of help as Pastor Silar, only Rodney only has 21 kids. Both are eager to welcome more into their care.
While visiting, I held a little baby girl named Kristy. Kristy had a twin sister, but she passed away. I am a little worried about her. She has pink scars all over her head and little hair. Rodney didn’t say what condition he found her in. Terry said the scars looked as if they could be from rat bites. Just thinking about it sends shivers through my body.
At long last, we finally drove home. BUT, before we left, we handed out Ayiti Ap Dekole shirts and all the kids sang for us–in their best English– our national anthem while holding the American flag. Culture shock causes me to think excessively. Both during a trip and long afterwards. Does America really live up to everything we say we are? Land of the free, home of the brave? No doubt. The real question I think is this: what are we doing to help others achieve the American dream? Personally, I think we’re a little lacking there.
Our team chilled back at the guest house before eating, debriefing, making our nightly stargazing trip, and sleeping.
Twas a great end to a great day!
Day 9 Sunday, July 29
Today, our team decided to attend Port-Au-Prince Fellowship’s church service. I felt somewhat disappointed that we did not attend Windy’s church, but it is in Cite Soleil so that option was out of the question. Port-Au-Prince Fellowship is a church serving missionaries and English-speaking Haitians. So we encountered quite a mix of people.
I felt poorly physically today. I think many people did. I’ll spare you the details. Thank God for two team leaders who work in the medical field! Given my condition, Terry told me to just start chugging water. I think everyone’s water intake has slowly declined as our trip has progressed. It hit me today how disgusting the water at Heartline is. While I am thankful it is safe to drink–most of the time–the water is so chlorinated it fills you up, causing you to desire a smaller amount.
Terry was concerned because she thought something might be wrong with my kidneys. I shamefully admitted that I most likely hadn’t been drinking enough and wasn’t needing to use the restroom often. She talked to Jeff and told him we needed to go to the Deli Mart on the way to church and buy more fluids. So, we stopped at a grocery and I stepped out of the car. For some stupid reason I chose to buy a ‘Naked.’ The last thing I needed to ingest was more sugar. I ate some Cheez-It party mix which helped some. Terry said the salt would help me retain more of the water I drank.
I drank a Limonade and some water. By the time we finally arrived at the church, my bladder was near exploding. I basically shoved all my water bottles at Gomez [Samuel] and booked it to the restroom.
The message spoken at the church was very edifying. It would have been more enjoyable of course if I hadn’t been so exhausted. Nonetheless, I needed a spiritual uplift.
God’s Grace (Sermon Notes)
Because of his grace we are loved and accepted.
We try to get people to behave instead of letting them belong.
The grace of God cost him his son.
Jesus did not deserve to die, but he did, and we do not deserve to live but we do.<—I love this!
God loves us just the way we are, but he loves us too much to let us stay that way.
We need to be patient for God to change others.
I continued chugging water and made a second trip to the bathroom. I started feeling shaky and faint. I finally asked for something to eat–my blood sugar tends to swing like a pendulum. It always seems to be high or low. Jeff gave me a granola bar and a bag of dried apple slices. I scarfed everything down quickly.
After church, our team went to go visit T-Papi’s neighborhood. Also home to EMPACT. EMPACT is the team that Pierre from Medishare trains. It was started by some EMT’s from Tacoma, Washington. Mr. and Mrs. Clark met practically everyone they know now–and more– through this growing group of people.
Apparently, the house is under reconstruction. So far everything looks really beautiful. After a really quick tour we sat outside and listened to Pierre’s life story. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for testimonies, life stories, and what-not, but today, all i really wanted to do was take a nap.
After listening to Pierre we all changed out of our church clothes. T-Papi, Pierre, and Esther took us on a hike. This was a hike to a place that your average tourist to Haiti is unable to see. The hike was pretty strenuous. We hiked up two sides of a large stream/creek. The incline was steep, wet, and rocky. The water was very dirty and there were people bathing out in the open and washing their clothes. Esther, being the sweet girl that she is, held my hand and guided me all the way and showed me the best places to step. I probably wouldn’t have made it without her. I had been very lethargic since church that morning. The humidity today felt incredibly high. We saw one of three waterfalls when we reached our destination. The view? Outstanding.
Not only were we able to visit EMPACT, but we were also in T-Papi and Esther’s neighborhood. T-Papi coaches a soccer team and we handed out soccer balls. While the boys played the girls held babies and painted nails. Girls don’t play soccer. Humph. No comprehendo!
Everyone was tired and hungry coming “home.” More tired though than anything else though I think. We followed our usual end-of-the-day schedule. Rest, eat, debrief, rooftop, and freshen up.
Day 10 Monday, July 30
Today, we dedicated to Windy. We talked to and visited Windy’s mother, brother, sister, and nephew. Windy’s mother is a very quiet woman. However, we were able to receive a little glimpse of what life in Jamel was like when she was a little girl. She said “life was a lot better then than it is now.” Something many elderly people say–only because it is quite true.
We met briefly Windy’s other brother. Not Wendell, the Jehovah Nissi school director. His name has escaped my memory. We also met Wendell’s son, Windy’s nephew. He’s such a cutie!
I have not ceased to be amazed at the protection and shade one fruit tree can provide. We walked up the road from Windy’s mother’s house to his sister’s house. As far as I can understand she is letting him stay for a few more months before he must leave. Anyways, the fruit tree! We gathered around under its outstretched branches where the air is much cooler and a strong breeze rushes through.
Windy proceeded to tell us about his book. It is very interesting, but somewhat scary as well. His book is only two chapters long. If I can understand correctly, his first chapter is about creation with a focus on the three different types of angels. The second chapter is all about the voodoo in Haiti. It is very creepy.
I helped Windy’s nephew ride his bike in the gravel. Claire and I ventured to the toilet in the backyard. That thing is pretty creepy too 😉
@Kayla Nicole
Our team discussed various places to eat out. We had a meeting scheduled with Medical Teams International. Jeff and Terry wanted to eat at a restaurant that is part of the U.S. Embassy, outside of Port-Au-Prince. Unfortunately, this didn’t work out. The political festival happening in Port-Au-Prince shut down a multitude of restaurants in the area. We ended up going to Deli Mart and buying everything needed to make PB&J. Our meeting place ended up being Heartline. Jeff and Terry were finally able to pass on to the MTI agent, Windy’s precious medical records. The last doctor Windy saw diagnosed him with Lymphoma and told him “go away Windy, and don’t come back.” Today Jeff and Terry were given the task of telling Windy that Lymphoma is indeed a type of cancer. Sadly, no one had ever taken the time to explain this cancer connection to him. With this new information, the reality of his possible fate became very real.
In some strange way, Windy is a lot like myself. I felt at least, that he is someone I could relate easily with. Although his health issues are more extreme than mine, we both kinda stick out. The doctors don’t know why I have [epilepsy] and I know what how it feels to wait on a prognosis. People call me strong. Windy is more than just strong. He is a fighter. I took away many things from Windy, but the most important thing I learned is to value life. To value every second of every day. I was convicted strongly when I thought of all the HOURS I’ve spent worrying instead of doing. Even during this time of sickness he [Windy] refused to be anxious. He is writing a book and learning his fourth language–Portuguese. I know this sounds cliche, but his life really is the definition of YOLO…with a twist. Windy will only live once…on earth. However, Windy is a believer so he knows he’ll be reunited with Christ whenever God so chooses to take him.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
Philippians 4:6
Windy’s favorite Bible verse is Exodus 14:14. I am so glad I was given the opportunity to ask him what this was. The verse reads “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
After eating a simple lunch of of PB&J we faced our helplessness. We no longer maintain any control over Windy’s situation. In fact, we never did. Jeff, Terry, and Mr. Wilson, from MTI, didn’t really need any of our skills. Jeff talked with Geoff #2 and the two of them decided that we would go back once more to Pastor Silar’s orphanage to hand out the promised T-Shirts. Jeff told us not to be at the orphanage for more than fifteen minutes or so. The longer we linger, the more difficult goodbye become.
On our way back to Heartline, Rodney told Jonas to stop the Tap Tap. He stepped out of the car and asked us if we could by a stalk of sugar cane. We said “sure why not?” The local immediately took up his machete and cut the “skin” off and then divided it up into pieces about five inches long. Rodney educated us in the art of tastefully eating sugar cane. It’s meant to be a simple process, but I tend to complicate many small endeavors. One must take a bite and suck all the sugar out and then spit out whatever is left. It’s really sticky, but pretty tasty;one should expect sugar in its purest for to be so. The Haitians enjoy it because the price is right and easily satisfies hunger pains. In a sore attempt to spit a mouthful of cane off the back of the Tap Tap, I completely failed and ended up spewing my mouthful all over Geoff.
Tonight’s evening debrief was more painful and emotional compared to all of the rest combined. The one thing on everyone’s mind was Windy. The last thing we felt called to discuss was leaving. By the end of our talk, half of us were in tears. Everyone except for myself went on the roof. I took a shower and then went on Facebook to ask for my friends’ prayers. Typically, I am very against the use of social networking during a trip–I feel as if distracts me easily from my purpose I am striving to achieve. I joined the team later on the roof and listened to Emily’s sweet words and guitar music fill the air all around us. Precious air. How often do we take advantage of breathing you in?
On our final night here, God blessed us incredibly with yet another amazing lightning storm. Almost as if he knew we needed a reminder of his incredible healing powers.
Praise: somehow, I managed to acquire at LEAST three hours of sleep!
I took a cold shower before going to bed, and I firmly believe clean sheets played a huge part in helping me relax more. Praise Jesus for prayers answered!
Today, was a very refreshing day. Although we were all very sad to have ended Vacation Bible School at the orphanage in Port-au-Prince, we looked forward to whatever plans God had in store. On our “day off,” we celebrated two birthdays on our team. Luke turned 19, and one of our leaders turned fifty-something. In the morning, four of our team members went to the Jehovah Nissi School in Cite Soleil. It was unfortunate that the entire team couldn’t go, but our team leaders Jeff and Terry promised our parents and team leaders to keep us safe. Anywhere we go, we tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Taking such a huge risk with our first youth team just didn’t seem to be a wise idea.
Ti- Papi arrived late with our rental and so all of our plans were delayed, but not really changed. We had a lot of time in the morning before our day really started.
We ended up leaving around 10:00 am to go to Club Indigo in Montrouis. A.K.A the Caribbean!!! Since we weren’t sure how long our team members in Cite Soleil would be delayed, we decided to take a head start to our beach destination.
The two-hour drive in the Tap-Tap was just plain fun. We have seen so much in a mere four full days. It’s pretty incredible. As we inch ed closer to the beach, “houses” became few and far between. The land was still poor, but at long last, on this lonely road, we found two distinct lanes on the road!
First things first at Club Indigo: Food. The system they have set up is really confusing. You tell the person taking orders what you want to eat–simple enough. Then, you pay. Each order bought equals a certain number of tickets. So instead of just buying food, or a drink from the snack bar, you must make sure you have the correct number of tickets. Due to the lengthy process, we weren’t able to eat right away.
We basically found the closest shade and beach chairs and ran to the water. I dove straight in. This was a poor decision on my part. The water, though cold and refreshing, was by far the saltiest water my poor eyes had ever made contact with. Once I had recovered from my hasty immersion, I gazed out across the waters. The cloudless sky and transparent water almost melted together.
I love trying new things. Fresh coconut was an awesome “first.”
After we had all absorbed our first views, we trekked a little farther down the beach to satisfy our hunger. After much more confusion, we presented our tickets at the snack bar and retrieved meals for everyone on our team. I ate a very interesting sandwich. It was satisfying, but very peculiar compared to every other ham sandwich I had previously consumed.
We sang the happy birthday song to Luke and Terry. I love Windy. He is just so adorable. He calls Terry his mom. After much convincing, he went all the way into the water. He blew bubbles and attempted to swim. He did so well!! He ate French fries, a hamburger, and a chicken nugget. All for the first time. H e really loved that chicken nugget though. 🙂 Every time I think of Windy, he reminds me to be thankful and value EVERY SINGLE SECOND of every minute, every hour, every morning, every evening, every night, seven days a week of all the twelve months that make up a year.
After eating, we moved even farther down to find some umbrella shade. The sand was far to hot to lay on, even with a towel. This one of many problems Washingtonians never face. Despite the brief shade, I burned, but in the moment, it felt incredible.
Our ride home was delayed by a blown tire in the Tap-Tap. Windy handles these little incidents so well. While our drivers sorted through the situation and we figured out who would ride where, Windy was found dancing in the street, head phones on,seemingly oblivious to the world, and listening to Imagine Me by Kirk Franklin.
The team arrived home–Heartline very quickly became home to me. Rachel found a dead gecko on her bed. First we thought it was fake, then we discovered it felt and looked pretty legit. It crawled up on Rachel’s bed and just died. Alex picked it up and put it in a cup. From then on we didn’t really know what to do with it. I took it and thought about how to dispose of it ceremoniously. Claire came out of our room and we made eye contact. At exactly the same moment we thought of something brilliant. “PUT IT ON LUKE’S BED!” We started laughing to hard and made a failed attempt to prank him. We were too loud and then we worried we had put it on the wrong bed–not a risk we wanted to take with a complete stranger. Luke took it and put it out on outside railing. We told Melissa about it later and she said “Is it still there? It’s kinda gross, but my cat loves geckos and lizards.
We ate dinner, ate some delicious cake homemade by Melissa, chilled out, and then slept.
The best part about today was blessing our drivers and translators with this trip. None of them had been to this beach! It is a luxury they would not have otherwise been able to indulge in. To enjoy bonding with Ti-Papi, Jonas, Esther, and Rodney have fun with us was awesome. There are so many things–both big and small– that can impact a person’s life forever.
Day 7 Friday, July 27
Today was busy, busy, busy! Our first destination: a visit through the heart of Port-au-Prince to see Jo Jo the artist. On our way to Jo Jo’s, we had originally planned to stop by the presidential palace in the heart of Port-au-Prince. However, not even our drivers, locals, felt comfortable taking us close enough to climb out and take pictures. If my research is correct, there was a festival called the Carnival of Flowers occurring. If I HEARD correctly, the last time this festival occurs there was a shooting. All that being said, we decided to avoid the masses.
Ever new person I encounter here in Haiti has a unique story. Jo Jo is a very inspiring person. His testimony is outstanding. Jo Jo was born with no arms and no legs. His mother dropped him off at an orphanage. The lady who cared for him FORCED him to persevere and find a purpose. His journey began when he started painting with a brush strapped firmly to his stump of an arm.
Jo Jo grew up in a home for disabled persons where he now works on staff. He speaks nearly perfect English and has been to the States multiple times as a motivational speaker. Jo Jo has personally met the president of Haiti and his wife and presented them with one of his paintings. He is a Haitian celebrity.
There are roughly 1,500 in and out patients at the home. The patients’ disabilities are so varied. Some are quadriplegics, paraplegics, blind, deaf, mentally ill, and have had limbs amputated.
We brought Jo Jo a whole pile of art supplies. Canvases, water colors, brushes, water-color paper, and acrylic paints. Being given the opportunity to paint in the same room with him was truly incredible. To save paper, the team members wanting to paint shared pieces of paper. My partner chose to observe rather than participate. This meant I had an entire, empty piece of paper all to myself.
I struggled long and hard to decide what I would attempt to paint. For inspiration I began searching through pictures on my camera. I began with a picture I had snapped at Indigo Beach– a single palm tree. Going off of this as my focus point, I painted a picture of me holding Louisa’s hand. Louisa is a young girl–about six– from Pastor Silar’s orphanage who stuck close to my side for all three days of VBS. In this picture–see my previous post–I successfully indicated to her that Jesus loves her so much, and so do I. No words were used. Just a simple action of joining my hand with hers to form a heart. Because of my poor painting skills, I filled the inside of the heart with red to emphasize that it was a heart. To finish my work, I painted the Haitian and American flag side by side–a symbol that two vastly different countries may indeed work together.
I felt gratified with my finished product, regardless of all its imperfections. Sure, I’m no artist, but at least it means something to me. I titled my picture “Beauty in the Broken.” There is beauty even in a place as broken as Haiti!
Jo Jo’s pictures are incredible! If I had brought more money–a LOT more money, I totally would have bought one. One painting in particular caught my eye because of its intricate details. Jeff inquired how long the painting took to start and finish. Jo Jo answered nonchalantly, “three days.”
We brought Jo Jo a whole pile of art supplies. Canvases, water colors, brushes, water-color paper, and acrylic paints. Being given the opportunity to paint in the same room with him was truly incredible. To save paper, the team members wanting to paint shared pieces of paper. My partner chose to observe rather than participate. This meant I had an entire, empty piece of paper all to myself.
I struggled long and hard to decide what I would attempt to paint. For inspiration I began searching through pictures on my camera. I began with a picture I had snapped at Indigo Beach– a single palm tree. Going off of this as my focus point, I painted a picture of me holding Louisa’s hand. Louisa is a young girl–about six– from Pastor Silar’s orphanage who stuck close to my side for all three days of VBS. In this picture–see my previous post–I successfully indicated to her that Jesus loves her so much, and so do I. No words were used. Just a simple action of joining my hand with hers to form a heart. Because of my poor painting skills, I filled the inside of the heart with red to emphasize that it was a heart. To finish my work, I painted the Haitian and American flag side by side–a symbol that two vastly different countries may indeed work together.
Jo Jo and I
I felt gratified with my finished product, regardless of all its imperfections. Sure, I’m no artist, but at least it means something to me. I titled my picture “Beauty in the Broken.” There is beauty even in a place as broken as Haiti!
Jo Jo’s pictures are incredible! If I had brought more money–a LOT more money, I totally would have bought one. One painting in particular caught my eye because of its intricate details. Jeff inquired how long the painting took to start and finish. Jo Jo answered nonchalantly, “three days.”
The Inspiration of a Left Gifted Hand
@ Luke White Photography
This is what reads on Carlot “Carl” Dorve’s business card. As we were about to leave the disabilities center, Carl meandered his our way playing his beautiful trumpet. Carl studied at the most esteemed music school in Haiti–I have yet to learn the name of this school. He now studies at Michigan state university. Carlot “Carl” Dorve. As we were about to leave, Carl meandered his our way playing his beautiful trumpet. Carl studied at the most esteemed music school in Haiti–I have yet to learn the name of this school. He now studies at Michigan State University. I watched a You Tube video to learn a little more about him. Seeing that at the time this picture was taken, I knew nothing more than his name. What stood out to me the most, is that Carl lost his arm when he was five. He started playing the trumpet AFTER he lost his arm. I took a double take at my notes to make sure I didn’t mess up the order of events.
I gained some wise words from his video: “Making progress, or being able to do something is a state of mind.”
Next Stop
From Port-au-Prince, our final destination was Grand Goave. Grand Goave is located in a more mountainous part of Haiti. Our business there was to visit an orphanage in the making. It’s name is Be Like Brit (BLB) Orphanage. The story behind BLB is long, but I’ll attempt to summarize without leaving out any important details.
Brit Gengel died in the earthquake. She was visiting with her school, Lynn University. According to her mother, she had been in Haiti only one full day before the earthquake submerged the country into chaos. Brit’s body was missing for 33 days before her remains were uncovered. Brit fell in love with the country and told her parents she wants to start an orphanage. In a call to her parents just three hours before the earthquake occurred, she said
“They love us so much and everyone is so happy. They love what they have and the work so hard to go nowhere, yet they are all so appreciative. I want to mover here and start an orphanage myself.”
I’m going to be completely honest, this made me feel quite conflicted. According to American standards, this may be true. Haitians aren’t going anywhere. However, their value’s: faith, trust, joy, and hope for a seemingly unsolvable wreck of a country, get’s them a lot farther in the big scheme of things. With these virtues and with God, anything is possible!
Brit’s parents, CherylAnn and Len Genegal are building a $1.2 million dollar orphanage. The finished product will be 19,000 square feet. [The building is now complete]. Throughout the layout of the orphanage there are a lot of interesting symbols. The building is in the shape of a “B.” Even with all of this space, they will only house 66 children-33 boys and 33 girls. This symbolizes the days it took to recover Brit’s body. Throughout the building CherylAnn spoke of flat screen TV’s and advance medical technology. While there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING wrong with any of these revolutionary features and the Genegal’s intentions are pure, Americanizing Haitian children does not do much for them in the long run. There are no distinct social classes except these: poor, poorer, and poorest. Leaving Haiti is practically impossible. In order to be eligible for a green card t the states, you must either be engaged to someone there or be in possession of legit medical and legal documents. Considering applying for a green card is pretty much the only reason you might need any of these things, most don’t have them.
What frustrated me the most–what didn’t seem fair, is that the resources and space they have is unlimited. Pastor Silar has more than 66 kids in his home. In fact there are so many kids that he and his wife cannot even sleep in their own house! Instead, if they do indeed sleep, they sleep in a tent. My prayer for BLB is that the Lord’s will would be done. I send out my condolences to the Genegal family. Their influence in Haiti has the power to to amazing things in Haiti.
After we finished touring the construction site, we traveled even higher in the mountains to absorb the breathtaking view. It was incredible. No picture could ever capture the feeling of looking out across this beautiful city. After a long day, we headed “home” to Heartline. More to come on Haiti! I thought simply two posts could cover my trip–I was very wrong. One day in Haiti equals a few days in the States.
@Kayla Nicole
More to come on my extraORDINARY trip to Haiti in 2012!
I’m going to cut straight to the chase. I hate writing prompts. “What is your earliest childhood memory?” or, my personal favorite,“Write about a memory associated with a certain smell.”Um, what?!With all the books and websites out there dedicated to overcoming writer’s block, I’ve found very few helpful. Not only are these prompts unhelpful, they’re also constricting. Instead of using the bank loaded with our own ideas, prompts tend to produce cookie cutter results. Where does all the extra dough go?! With roughly 15,700,000 search results for “writing prompts” on Google alone, I expect more original and fresh ideas. Writing often feels more complicated than it actually is. Depending on who you’re writing for–yourself, an audience, or both– you shouldn’t feel the constant need to crank out a novel every time you sit down with a piece of paper. Every bestseller, freelancer, blogger, and journal-keeper had to start somewhere. So, instead of suggesting cliche writing prompts, I’m going to take you on a trip back to the basics.
I’ve come a long way in my writing–at least I’d like to think so–but one thing I know for sure is that I still have an incredibly long way to go. My starting point included lists of my favorite foods and games of MASH from long, hot, and non-air conditioned bus rides to camp. My journalism journey–if you even consider lists and games of MASH journalism–moved from the Little League team to the All Star team. I waved goodbye to “listography,” and in ninth grade I committed to being more consistent. I wrote down as many details, big and small, that I could remember from each day. Although I was fairly consistent, the amount of content in my entries varied. I found that when I attempted to write lengthy and wordy entries, I ended up writing LESS. I had to face the fact that some days, my most exciting activity might very well be having a dissection in science class.
Moral of the story? There is no shame in lists and “Dear Diary” entries. Trust me, inspiration doesn’t fall from the sky the way rain falls in Seattle. That would be waaaay to easy.
What to Write When You Can’t Write
1. Lists– lists and sub-lists are great ways to brainstorm.
2. Thought bubbles.
3. One line a day. This can be useful if you feel you don’t have time to keep a journal. I often leave space in mine to go back and expand on entries. Record something such as a Facebook status or something that will trigger your memory when you go back. Try and be specific. Just writing “I ate Cheerios for breakfast today” isn’t going to be of much assistance to you if you plan on going back and expanding.
4. The Method (Writing Analytically by David Rosenwasser). This is an exercise my English 101 teacher in college had us do often. This really helps turn gears. I don’t read poetry, but we had an in class essay where we read a poem and analyzed what we read. The Method asks four questions. 1) What repeats? 2) What goes with what? (strands) 3) What is opposed to what? (binaries/opposites) 4) What doesn’t fit? (anomalies). For all of these questions, ask the “SO WHAT?” question. It sounds like homework, but trust me, it is a really helpful tool.
5. Your mom’s grocery list.
6. Book reviews/reports/summaries.
7. Letters. There is nothing I love more than receiving a handwritten letter. I’m sure you know someone who would love to receive one.
8. Stories. If you want to make yourself known, sign up for a free account at cowbird.com, it’s a pretty awesome website.
9. Your school schedule.
10. Take notes in class. This is just a good habit. It doesn’t necessarily spark creativity, but repetitive learning skills improve memory.
What to Read When You Can’t Write
1. Garner’s Modern American Usage. The title is sounds big and scary, but it is a WONDERFUL reference. If you’re experiencing writer’s block, you might as well take the time you’re not using to write to improve your grammar.
2. Word Power Made Easy by Norman Lewis.Etymology at it’s best. Great for advancing vocabulary.
3. Books, books, and more books. If you don’t read, you’re writing is lacking its full potential.
4. The Newspaper. If I were you, I would choose something more wholesome than the Seattle Times. But, that’s just me. Flipboard is a great FREE app if you’re on the go often.
5. Word Dynamo (dynamo.dictionary.com). This is what nerds like me do over Christmas Break: expand their vocabulary count to and estimated +30,000 words.
6. Magazines. Try out Relevant: Faith, Culture & Intentional Living
7. Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing by Mignon Fogarty. This is a great book and very easy to read. I have yet to finish it!
8. Read a picture. I bet you didn’t know you could do that! “A picture is worth a thousand words”~Napolean Bonaparte.
Where to Go When You Can’t Write
(Breaks in recurring schedules are very relieving)
1. NOT Facebook.
For those in the greater Seattle area:
2. Green Lake Park. I went here just the other day. It had been forever since I’d been there. Which is a shame considering it is only about a fifteen minute drive from my house.
3. Alki Beach. If you have a lot of time on your hands, this place is awesome.
4. St. Edwards Park
5. Bothell Landing
6. Seward Park
7. A coffee shop. I find inspiration in listening, talking, and observing. The Aloha Cafe in Edmonds or The Lyon’s Den in Bothell are ideal–unfortunately for me only one of these two is convenient. Because Starbucks is overrated, just more convenient.
I don’t splurge very often, but when I do, I consider the small indulgences as money well spent. If you’ve never owned a Moleskine notebook, I highly recommend investing in one. I usually use college ruled spiral notebooks, but these often give me motivation, especially if I’m close to wrapping up a notebook. I’m sort of obsessed with gel pens as well. They bring a whole new meaning to “color the rainbow.” (I especially enjoy using them for my school planner). They add some excitement. My #1 tip is to keep a notepad with you at all times. There is nothing worse than letting a great idea slip through your finger tips. My #2 Tip is to share your writing–whatever type of writing it may be– with other people. Tip #3 Not everyone scrapbooks. I am one of those who does not. instead, I tape memorabilia into my journals with photo adhesives and/or scotch tape. You’ll be glad you did! Last, but certainly not least, Tip #4! If you’re writing for an audience, big or small, DO NOT cater your words solely to their tastes. Many people try so hard to keep up with the newest trends in the media and whatnot that their writing loses its passion. Especially non-writers. Your writing probably has a bigger effect on people than you think. We are often our biggest critics. Every expert in any field of work began with the basics. Don’t forget to review them!
According to Wikipedia, since its grand opening in 1987, Starbucks has whet the parched tongues of coffee consumers by launching an average of 2 new coffee shops, every single day. There are now 20,891 of these coffeehouses in 62 countries. Almost half of these are in the United States. That’s a lot of coffee floating around. I live in Seattle, where coffee is an idol, and people just can’t seem to get enough. There are enough coffee shops–not limited to mainstream chains–within a five-mile radius of my house to fulfill any avid coffee lover’s dreams.
Unlike the average high school or college student, I refuse to drink more than one cup of coffee a day–with exceptions– and have never paid for an extra shot. I pretend to like drip coffee, when in reality, I always stir in a bit of hot coco mix and powdered creamer. I was convinced coffee had more of a psychological effect than anything else. Until I went to Starbucks with a friend one Tuesday. At four O’clock in the afternoon. The problem is not coffee at four o’clock in the afternoon, the problem is the caffeine. I ordered a caramel macchiato! My friend on the other hand, ordered a straight drip coffee. Now that was a sight to see.
Regardless of the insane numbers of Starbucks populating the area, the one I suggested we go to was probably the most crowded. That was a bad decision on my part. However, we successfully found a table. There is something about the atmosphere of a coffee shop that is inviting–be it crowded or not. It’s not the coffee that makes it a good time, it’s the people you’re with and the conversations you have. Just give me some spare time and I could talk and listen for hours on end. The jokes, the laughter, the honesty, the memories, and even the unplanned call from the mother of the kid you’re supposed to be babysitting, they are all things which make a good cup of coffee a good cup of coffee.
Rian Aditia once said, “There’s nothing sweeter than a cup of bitter coffee”— (Click to tweet)
This is my exhortation to you: make some time in your schedule, go grab a friend, and drink some good coffee 🙂
I’ve been trying to think of the perfect gift for my mother. I am quite aware I missed the Mother’s Day boat. Every Mother’s day I wonder, how any gift could ever match up to anything my mom has lovingly sacrificed for me? Well, that would be one hard gift to find.This is not to say you shouldn’t give your mom something for Mother’s Day. Rather, just remember that mothers are something to be celebrated every single day! They’re not babysitters who go home after their hours are completed–lucky you!
It is crazy to think that in just a few crazy weeks, I’ll be graduated from High School with 30 college credits. I’m convinced I couldn’t have made it through without my mother. I bore the near impossible task of writing 100 words about both my parents in a tribute for graduation day. I could write a thousand about them both. I know I’m going to bawl my eyes out. Waterproof mascara is still on my graduation day shopping list.
My mom has been there for the roughly 1,600 days of school I’ve made it through thus far. And no not just to pick me up from the bus stop. In fact, I rode on a school bus for the first time just this past weekend and it was nothing special. From day one, she has been my teacher. Kindergarten through twelfth grade, she’s been my favorite. Without my mom, I wouldn’t be having an awesome graduation party. There are twenty-five days and counting until graduation. My graduation party is this weekend. I told my mom way back when that I had no idea what I wanted I just didn’t want it to be an expensive extravaganza. Based off of my vague suggestions she’s been planning menus, ordering floral arrangements, and making Costco runs. She says ‘Oh Kayla I hope it’s what you wanted and you’re not disappointed.’ She ordered my graduation announcements and has been collecting items and pictures for my ‘senior shrine’ to be displayed at the senior dessert and after the graduation ceremony. I swear the only thing I’ve done so far is stuff envelopes. She reminded me of every yearbook deadline, although she knew I received every reminder e-mail. She is quite aware I have been putting too many things on my ‘will do tomorrow’ list.
My mom has been at my side through every health crisis and surgery–well OK so it was just one surgery. I’ve had multiple MRI’s, EEG’s, CT scans, heart monitors, you name it I’ve had it etc. She packed my lunches for summer camp when I was on a 15 carbohydrates a day diet in hopes that it would hamper my absence epilepsy episodes. She has also been there for every celebration and birthday party. She attended every choir performance and every piano recital. She’s gone with me to pick out every spring formal dress. She attended nearly every t-ball, basketball, softball, and soccer game. She washes my sheets and cleans my room before I arrive home from every camp and mission’s trips–trust me, it’s the best thing ever. She even made my first Barbie cake.
My mom has been my listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. She’s the greatest girlfriend ever. I can borrow her clothes, share secrets and only with her can I laugh until I cry while watching Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock in the Proposal.
She’s proofread nearly every report, essay, and analysis I’ve ever written, starting with my first book reports and simple five paragraph Academic essays. To this day, nearly every paper I write, she still reads— consequently, every single essay she hasn’t proofread has had the most grammatical errors. She let me stay up until midnight reading chapter books, but thankfully, she also made sure I survived every math lesson. She explained every problem in every way she knew how. She tells me all the time, “your best is different from everyone else’s best. If your best is a C then so be it.” Believe me, it’s not always what I want to hear, but it’s always exactly what I need to hear.
Somebody told me the other day that I am very patient and tolerant, and that it must be because I have six brothers and one sister. I first took it as a compliment, and then I thought “Who am I kidding?! Clearly, this guy has never met my mom before!”
There’s a joke in our house, especially between me and mom, that ‘nothing is ever lost until your mom can’t find it.’ If I complained about my brain being elsewhere, I’m pretty sure she could redirect my focus.
Proverbs 31 Woman
My mom is a Proverbs 31 woman. She spends her rare moments of solitude reading the Bible. She has her priorities straight. She has hair that would make Marilyn Monroe jealous and can rock red lipstick more than any other forty-two year-old woman I know. I sure hope I inherited those great genes!
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
Proverbs 30: 30-31
Me and Mom
Mothers, we take advantage of them all the time. They do our laundry, cook our meals, remind us to scrub behind our ears, and pick-up our rooms. Even more importantly, they hold our hand as we crawl, walk, and run this crazy race called life. Whoever the mother is in your life, don’t forget to tell them how much they mean to you.
I’ve been thinking. A lot. As I watch our country fall apart, I look around and search for the faith our country was built on. A few favorite quotes come to mind.
“If we ever forget that we are one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under”- Ronald Reagan
“God allows in his wisdom what he could prevent by his power” – Graham Cooke
“When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on”- Thomas Jefferson
There is so much truth in these words.
These days, I cannot say anything on social media about God without getting a bunch of feedback. Mostly negative. From both my Christian and non-Christian friends. For a long while, I sat back, shut my mouth, and ignored things I felt were ‘controversial.’ Over time, I learned that just because I shut up no one else would. You’re either for something or against it. Christians shouldn’t be silent, but no one should be hateful.
99.999999% the few debates I either indirectly or directly become involved in, don’t go so hot. 99.9999999% what I am trying to say doesn’t exactly come out how I intended. By the time it comes out my readers or listeners are crawling all over me. The latest accusation from an ‘acquaintance’ who is a self-proclaimed atheist was in regards to all that happened over the country last week. . He wanted a factual response. Some believers I know are great at proving things with bits and pieces of science and whatnot. I on the other hand am not.In this particular case I was commenting on another friend’s status-who by the way ended up deleting his status AND comment thread. Christianity is a relationship with God. God created us to be with him.
Let me just make this clear. AGAIN. I’m writing this because I care. I have such a huge treasure. One that I can share over and over and over again! We’re not all that we knock ourselves to be. Our sins separate us from God.That SHOULD be obvious by now. But When thousands of years later, lets face it, we aren’t doing so well at learning from our mistakes. When I say ‘we’ I mean ‘me’ and ‘you’. I’m not trying to exclude myself.God wiped out sin, but he ALLOWED it back into the world after he gave us a glorious second chance. God forgives all sins “70 X 7” times. He gave us what we wanted. Free will. Sin was our choice. Of course God didn’t leave us destined for hell as we deserved. On the contrary he provided the ultimate sacrifice. More is never enough for us. Those who choose the gift of life he gives us are saved from judgement forever.. Or we can shove it back in God’s face. At this point in the convo I’m typically cut off, so thanks for reading on. I don’t have to sit home with a checklist of things to do because I’m not going to get it all right. Without Jesus, I would never be able to live up to standards outlined in the Bible. Sins cannot be removed by good deeds.
“But what about the old testament? It says there… We don’t stone people, We don’t eat crawfish, people made animal sacrifices”……..the list goes on and on and on. My small group discussed this whole OT ‘So what?’ question. So “what about it?”. In the old testament these ‘rules and regulations’ were made because believers didn’t have any other choice. Let me elaborate. Jesus hadn’t come yet. Jesus is the Ultimate Sacrifice who paid the price of our sins. Mine, yours multiplied by everyone on this planet. He bore the weight of it all. Paying the price for sin Jesus died and rose again. All those things were their SECOND CHANCE which, in the New Testament is Jesus. If you’re still with me, can we just revel in the fact that we, as undeserving as we are, can have what nobody else has. Everyone who trusts in him has eternal life. The gift that supersedes all riches (:
I’m not going to ‘act’ smart and pretend I know why everything happened in Boston, MA and Waco, TX. I’m not in anyway trying to justify anything. I’m saying God does whatever it takes to be near us. Is Jesus dying on the cross not enough evidence or proof that he loves us? Rest in the knowledge that no matter how bad we screw up, he will keep on forgiving us. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again……I think you get the picture.
In my college bible study ‘Ignite’ today-it was my first time- a fellow believer from Egypt, said something quite profound. Something that believers have to constantly remind themselves. He said with a strong accent, “I have three citizen-ships. Egypt, America, and Heaven.” How cool is that?!
First off, to all my followers and viewers, I’m terribly sorry I’ve been so inconsistent in posting. I knew right off the bat consistency would be a struggle for me. Don’t get me wrong though, I have nearly 30 postings in the work! My creativity has not dulled. I’m awakening from the lethargy and sickness that Spring Break wrought-at least that is my hope. My new quarterly school schedule has me up at sunset twice a week for English 102. As for all of my other time, I am somewhat flexible. In other words, it has me easily procrastinating on every other area of my life. As of right now, there are 46 days, 21 hours, and 12 minutes until graduation. Yes I have been counting since pretty much the beginning of the second semester. Some say “don’t do that.” Well, I finally know what I THINK I want to do so I’m ready to be done. I have yet to meet someone who says they want to go back and do High School all over again. It’s been fun, but frankly, I’m quite done.
Senior year has consisted of a lot of firsts. My life up to the point has consisted of many changes. Mostly good. I’ve turned eighteen, my brother turned has started driving, while another brother lost his first tooth. I’ve relapsed once again into my yearbook duties after a nice long break. I had my first last Spring Formal at the lovely Canal in Seattle, partnered with a very awkward first last senior recognition. And no, I was not the cause of this awkwardness. Cap and Gown pictures have been taken and everything is official. Senior sneak is coming up. I obtained my first official non-driver’s license ID-you may be wondering, what good is such a thing? Unfortunately, it is useful in many instances and more convenient than carrying around a passport everywhere. Some major decisions are up in the air which at times has been quite taxing. And as my friends like to say I am “sleep exhausted.” Keep persisting friends! I’ve made it this far and intend to see through to the end. Until then, Keep Calm and Graduate! (;
This quote and picture inspired me to write “Shoes.” Photographer unknown.
Shoes speak. Shoes define each and every individual. Shoes tell the story of where people are going and the places they’ve been. Shoes show the wear and tear of each journey. Shoes display the hardships, the trials, the good times, and the bad. Shoes show where and how each occupant has attempted to make repairs when times became tough; these repairs are evident in patches, in clumsy stitches, and crisp white laces. Behind every brand name and every sandal, slipper, sneaker, and stiletto is a story.
What about that person without shoes? How is his or her story told? Their story is told in the cuts, scrapes, blisters, broken toenails and callus upon callus. Their story is told by the layers of dust, dirt, mud, and sand which coat every inch of tough leathery skin. No one questions a person without shoes. They’ve walked down every path, battled every storm, crossed every valley, and climbed every mountain. The person without shoes has more stories than the person with a closet full of them.
On average, every American buys 8 pairs of shoes each year. 8 PAIRS. What do your shoes say about you? Does your story simply say you are returning to the mall for yet another pair to add to your collection?
I’ve been trying to think of the perfect gift for my mother. I am quite aware I missed the Mother’s Day boat. Every Mother’s day I wonder, how any gift could ever match up to anything my mom has lovingly sacrificed for me? Well, that would be one hard gift to find.This is not to say you shouldn’t give your mom something for Mother’s Day. Rather, just remember that mothers are something to be celebrated every single day! They’re not babysitters who go home after their hours are completed–lucky you!
Coffee Shop Talk 