Lindsey Strauch (right) with
Datiny Masse, a cousin of her Haitian host family. |
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Lindsey
moved to Haiti in September. As part
of the Apprenticeship
in Shared Living program, she now lives
with a Haitian family near the town of Dabòn,
where she has been warmly and generously received
by her new Haitian community. In doing so, she
has given up some of the power inherent in being
a middle-class American—access to certain
resources, enjoyment of basic comforts, and
protection from tarantulas. (Yes, Lindsey’s
first week in Haiti involved several too-close
encounters with tarantulas!)
She
wouldn’t say it, but we’ll say it
about her: We see Lindsey as a leader because
she has been willing to step away from the pursuit
of what American culture proclaims to be essential
for a good life—power, money, ambition,
and pleasure. Leading and loving by example
is the best way to renounce false cultural values
and claim values more closely aligned with God’s
kingdom, more closely aligned with the way Jesus
renounced his power and came to be among us
as Love incarnate.
Lindsey
wrote the following article just before she
came to Haiti to begin her apprenticeship. In
it, she reflects on her January 2004 trip to
Haiti, as well as on her decision to return
to Haiti to live, work, and learn alongside
its people. We look forward to her sharing more
of her experiences (both in the newsletter and
on our web site) as her experience in learning
and leadership unfolds.
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“Liberté,
Egalité, Fraternité!” The strong
voice of my Haitian “older brother,” Robby,
began the chant. “Liberté, Egalité,
Fraternité!” Slowly the other Sunday-morning
worshippers joined in. “Liberté, Egalité,
Fraternité!” Liberty. Equality. Brotherhood.
One by one the other voices found their place in the chorus,
and the sound grew until it seemed the palm trees shook.
“Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité!”
From our mountaintop perch, we shouted what was at once
both a prayer and a proclamation over Port-au-Prince. We
turned to face each portion of the country. North. Liberty!
East. Equality! My voice growing hoarse, I stepped back
into the shadows. I watched my Haitian brothers and sisters
petition the God in whom they have a very real and practical
faith, a faith that’s been nourished by a lifetime
of hardship and divine response.
Eyes
closed, arms outstretched, they continued to shout what
I recognized
as the rallying cry of the French Revolution. What had been
for me a dusty phrase confined to textbooks suddenly gained
bittersweet immediacy. A type of war was drawing near, and
each person felt it. Weapons were being distributed to rebel
forces. Out-of-control inflation meant that even staples
were moving out of reach. Daily demonstrations grew violent,
and the strained police force seemed to hover on a trip
wire.
This
was last January, during my sixth visit to Haiti. I saw
something I knew had existed many times in the nation’s
past, but that I had never witnessed firsthand. The faces
of my Haitian friends were drawn, and their usual shining
eyes had the thousand-yard stare familiar in tragedy-stricken
countries. Laughter was slow in coming. Heads hung a little
lower than usual—but when they rose, they held a mixture
of quiet strength and defiance against brutality and oppression.
Since
then, the coup d’état came and went in Haiti.
In May, two thousand people were killed by floods and mudslides.
All these events have brought not only violent deaths but
sweeping economic devastation. It is difficult to imagine
what a modern civil war would wreak in the United States.
It is even more difficult to paint a picture of what civil
unrest coupled with natural disaster does to a poor country
like Haiti.
Though
I’ve been involved with Haiti since I was fourteen
years old, it wasn’t until my visit in January that
I felt God might have a place there for me. At the time,
I was preparing to begin my last semester at Houghton College
in upstate New York. I knew I was destined for overseas
work, but God kept the envelope containing my destination
sealed until what felt like the eleventh hour. As soon as
I knew God was directing me to move to Haiti, I began to
search for a mission organization that wasn’t going
the easy route—giving handouts. I knew I could only
go with a mission that gains the respect of the Haitian
people by first respecting them. I wanted an organization
that works with Haitians to bring about justice rather than
deciding for them what they need. I also knew that I wasn’t
ready to go directly into “full-time service.”
I must first go as a learner.
So
in September when I begin Beyond Borders’ Apprenticeship
in Shared Living, I will serve initially as a full-time
learner as I live with a rural Haitian family. Semi-isolated
from other expatriates, I will work to become fluent in
Creole and participate in the daily life of a Haitian farming
community. By sharing in their experience, I will seek to
understand their situation and become an authentic part
of their lives. This is a vital first step as I prepare
to serve long-term in Haiti.
I
know this will be intense—shifting from the American
middle class to the Haitian lower class. Language will be
a challenge. Relationships will take extra work as cultural
barriers are crossed. I will make scores of mistakes. I
know it is only through God’s empowerment that I will
be able to learn all I can and give all I should. |
