Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes

Jimmy Buffet got a lot of things right.

I remember singing along to his greatest hits with my dad on the way to the beach.

"Cheeseburger in Paradise" confirmed that although it was fun to yell "I like mine with lettuce and tomato, heinz 57 and french fried potatoes"--I actually prefer hotdogs.

"Margaritaville" was confusing because I could never find it on the road map.

"Fins" was always interesting because we were on our way to the BEACH, with a huge ocean filled with the unknown, singing about being the only bait in town.

I digress.

Its no secret (at least not now) that I do not like flying. I plugged in my headphones to the armrest as soon as I could and my ears were graced with the lovely voice of none other than JIMMY BUFFET! He was singing "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes."

How appropriate. 

DAY 1, We woke up at 3 am, met at FPC by 4 am, and were taking off by 7 am. We made a stop in Miami and landed in Port au Prince by 2 pm. In a matter of hours, we had been transported to a different world.

A change of pace, a change in attitudes, a prospective shift. 

But really, Haiti IS part of our World. A 2 hour plane ride and 592 nautical miles separates us from a place that I can't believe I went almost 23 years without experiencing.

I resist change. Even though my parents always affectionately describe me as "dancing to the beat of my own drummer", I like knowing what to expect. I had been to Peru three times. I knew the airports,  the route. I was familiarized to the pangs of hurt I would feel as I saw sick children at the clinic. I had experienced awe as I watched Peruvians work 8 hour days at a construction site where I was struggling to make it until lunch. Most of all, I knew the Vargas family. I always felt like my time in Peru was easy because I was spending time with my second family.

As soon as we arrived in Port au Prince I knew it would be different. I could feel my palms start to sweat and my grip tighten on my overly packed purple suitcase (some things actually DON'T change).  

It was Trina, Katie, and I in a sea of other Americans rushing around, trying to navigate our way to our respective drivers and Outreach organizations. Rushed. As if there was a sense of urgency. Moments later as we met Matt, the director of Haiti Outreach Ministries, and loaded up in the pick-up truck, I couldn't stop looking out the window. Poverty, right there in our faces. Our culture's tendency is to rush--especially when fixing a problem. I learned on that first ride through the streets of Port au Prince that this was no quick fix.

The roads are unpaved and full of pot holes, so we bounced along until we went through a gate and the truck came to a stop. One second I was witnessing children bathing in the street and in the next instant we had arrived at the compound. The compound is juxtaposed all the poverty. I remember feeling like it was unfair that I got to come through the gate--until I noticed that the gate didn't close behind us, it remained open for anyone to come in. It would take me almost all week to understand how important a role this compound played in the community.

Haiti Outreach Ministries has 4 compounds, Blanchard was the one we were staying at. Each compound has a church and a school. We were taken to the "guest house" which is actually inside the school. They changed a few classrooms into dorm rooms. Our living quarters were basic--no air conditioning, no electricity, no hot water. We had an air mattress, sheets, mosquito net, and a fan. I immediately recognized my need to change my attitude.