Journal Entry – Sunday October 27, 2013 – Cazeau Orphanage
You would think that after a certain number of times coming down here it would get harder to find new “blow you away” moments where something hits you so hard, and so unexpectedly, that you’re fighting back tears.
And that’s probably true. But those moments still come at some point – or multiple points – every day.
For today, “that moment” came while we were out at Cazeau.
We spent about four hours there this afternoon just hanging out with the kids, having completely informal, unplanned, unstructured, do-whatever-the-kids-feel-like-doing time – my favorite. Pure heaven. Magical, transcendent, indescribable as always.
At one point in the afternoon there’s a group of girls who are trying to braid my hair, and they’re putting it up in those little colored clippie things you see the Haitian girls wearing. They seem to be quite amused with themselves, reminding me of times when my own girls were little and they would put my hair up in bows and barrettes, giggling hysterically the entire time.
While this is going on, several of the other children come over and start saying something to me. Of course, the entire time you’re at Cazeau, there is constant chattering going on around you that’s like an ocean of white noise. I’m getting to the point with my Creole where I can pick up on about 10% of what’s being said, but only if I listen real carefully.
So this group of kids is saying something – in unison – and I realize that it sounds vaguely familiar to me. And then they say something else, and I’m thinking, “Ok, I recognize that from somewhere…” And then they say a third thing that seems like something I should know…and then it hits me.
What they’re saying is,
“Sa a se lavi a jezi.” (This is the life of Jesus)
And then:
“Mari ak jozef.” (Mary and Joseph)
“Jezi fet.” (Jesus is born)
And they continue:
“Jenn jezi ale nan tanp la.” (Young Jesus at the temple)
“Jean batis.” (John the Baptist)
And they continue from there, line by line…
And I realize they’re reciting – in the correct sequence, from memory, after hearing it only one time almost three months ago – each line from the skit that our summer team did for them when we were here back in August.
That moment has hung with me throughout the rest of the day. I don’t have any way of knowing for sure, but I somehow think that this was their way, in spite of the language barrier, of trying to communicate with us, relate to us, interact with us. I think it was their way of saying, “We remember you. And we listen to what you say, because it important to us.” And maybe more than anything else, I think it was their way of trying to tell us, “It matter to us that you come.”
