See this thing? It's an inverter. Don't know what that is? Well neither did I before I moved to Haiti. Okay...the truth...I live here and still don't know exactly what it does.
Lots of times the system breaks down, the batteries and inverter don't do whatever it is they are supposed to do, and the end result is us waking up in the middle of the night with no power. No lights. No fans. Pitch dark. Instantly hot as hell.
When we first moved here, there were a million and two weird things to get used to about this new place. The first few weeks of living in Haiti I cried every day. I did not think I could ever get used to living without hot water or a two sided sink. I was doubtful I'd ever adjust to hanging mountains of laundry, or the heat, or the roads, or the dirty air-condition-less vehicles, or what a pain doing just about every single thing is in this crazy country. Surprisingly, I have adjusted to just about everything. I wouldn't say I like this way of life. I don't. I still kind of hate it. But I don't think about it or cry about it or really care that much about it.
Except for the electricity thing. Oh no. I have not adjusted at all...not one tiny bit...to losing power in the middle of the night.
Want to know the truth?
When the power went out last night I woke up fighting mad. I swear to you...if a divorce attorney had been standing in our bedroom with papers to sign when the power went out I would have instantly signed away 14 years of marriage. I would have signed my name on those papers twice. Heather Hendrick with three or four exclamation points.
Not being dramatic. That's how mad it makes me every single time when we lose power in the middle of the night.
Power goes off. I let out a roar. Then I throw a two-year old, full body kicking fit in my bed while saying, "I hate this place. I hate this place." Mature. I know. Obviously the middle of the night is not a good time for me to do my best thinking or behaving.
The kids wake up. We meet in the dark hall. Hudson usually wakes up screaming like a pterodactyl. Immediately we're drenched in sweat. Fans are a necessity, and when they are not blowing life is miserably hot here.
Back in the bed the air is motionless, but my mind is not. The heat carries my mind to scary places.
I think about all the ways it feels like we're failing. How hopeless this country feels. Stories that are painful and real...things going on right now that are too deep and disturbing to write about. Disappointing situations where it seems like all is lost and all is a mystery and we'll never feel like God is doing anything good in this place.
The inverter switches off and the anger and doubt come alive in my soul. I'm angry at Aaron. Angry at God. Wondering why we are here. Can things be too far gone? Where is the fruit that proves this sweat and frustration are worth it? I lay awake in the bed...hot...tired...too hot and tired to sleep so I try to count the fruit...the good things...and I hate how empty my basket is. The fruit in my basket looks more like a miracle marriage I am proud of, precious kids, sweet friends in Haiti, community. But those things would be in my basket if I was in the United States sleeping peacefully through the night with a thermostat set just the way I like it.
Finally. The generator comes back on. The night is over. The fans are suddenly loud. They blow comfort over me and gently blow away the crazy thoughts. Like candles on a birthday cake. The doubt. The panic. The hopelessness. It all feels like a crazy dream. I suddenly love Aaron again. I'm thankful for one hour of sleep.
I'm also thankful that divorce attorneys do not make a practice of standing in bedrooms in the middle of the night.
13 comments:
I know how much it makes you mad when the power goes off.
That's why I went and laid on the couch ... so that I could intercept any divorce attorneys who might try to come stand in your fan-less room last night.
Fortunately I was able to deter all that tried to enter.
Can I just say how much I appreciate the realness of this blog?? I do not live in a third world country, but there are situations in my life when I react the same way you do when the power goes out - anger, frustration, wanting out. Not every day, but there are moments. There is some comfort to know I am not alone in this human-ness.
I always feel like such a stalker when I comment on a "stranger's" blog but I read this post through tears! Thank you for being so real. I had a "culture-shock is killing me and I want to go home" tantrum on Sunday, and have been feeling like crap about it since and we are only in Italy, that's gotta be way easier than Haiti, right? I have so many days where I feel like everything we are trying to do is a total failure. Crazy as it sounds, it was a huge encouragement to read that someone else, whom I admire, feels so the same. Thanks for being so honest.
You just don't appreciate how awesome our dependable infrastructure is in "the States" until you've experienced the lack of dependable infrastructure elsewhere. Its like camping for any period of time greater than a week. The "rustic" life is appealing, fun and even slightly desirable, but a week without hot water, electricity or climate controls and you start dreaming about dishwashers, showers and clean bed sheets. :)
Bless your family and your work. I will pray for the pesky inverter/battery setup that somehow brings a bit of cool air to the hot Haiti nights. And I'll pray that the divorce attorneys might be overcome by heat before they can get to your door. Thanks for keeping it oh so real for those of us reading from our comfy American homes.
You are so brave to write those things out loud. I'm sure we all have thoughts like that, but never actually say them out loud. Like that makes us any better. I'm in the middle of a God sized project and feel really bad when I have doubts. Thanks for letting me peak into your world and seeing that we are all human and how much we all need God to make things happen. It isn't us, but God that will bring the project to completeness.
HAHAHAHAAHAAAA!!! I understand the anger! I call my house the wind-tunnel and if a fan isn't blowing on me at all times, there's probably a complaint coming out of my mouth. A friend of mine (who's house has a/c at night...as mine will mercifully in 2 months or so) told me the other day, "If I was you, I'd just tie one of the fans to my arm and pull it around like an I.V." Brilliant!
As one who lives in non-America too, I completely understand that adult hissy fits. Except mine don't usually happen in the middle of the night. Mine are usually during the day. In the middle of a conversation that I can't conversate because I don't know the language. And it's not with a family member, it's with a local. A local that I came here to tell about Jesus. And instead of sharing peace and love, I'm red-faced and raising my voice, speaking words they can't understand but using body language that they DEFINITELY can.
I understand. Completely.
I agree with that last sentence of yours WHOLEHEARTEDLY! But it's a good thing there are no divorce attorneys present when my husband has woken me up snoring, or prevented me from ever falling asleep in the first place... and I'm in the first trimester -- you know how tired that makes a person! Actually, a divorce attorney should never come by a person in the first trimester ever.
But really -- I've been to Kenya and lived in Taiwan; I don't think you're over-stating anything.
I've been reading your blog for a while now and I just love it. Especially posts like this one :) I'm living in India and my power went out this morning...which resulted in me waking up incredibly irritable and hating the world. ugh. From one messed up country to another - I feel your pain!
You make me smile!! I love your honesty... it is so refreshing! Seriously though, thank you for being a light in Haiti!
Heather, FRUIT! FRUIT! FRUIT! I declare that your life bares great fruit even just through mine! I pull so much encouragement and Truth from your wisdom and pure heart that I know you've touched my life and other's lives. You know what's funny? When I couldn't sleep last night and was distracted by the cares of the world, I remembered Phil 4:8 "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." You were the FIRST thing to pop into my mind. Of all people! ME! Thousands of miles away, touched by your lovely life and pure desires to live a RADICAL life for Christ. IF this is true of me, than how many others? Be encouraged, sister. Your life bares MUCH FRUIT!
I don't know you but I sure enjoy reading your blog. As someone who moved to Northern Haiti just under 6 months ago, I've had a much harder time adjusting (to the unreliable electricity and the million other things that are different about Haiti) than my husband and sometimes I just want to throw a fit and go home. I often fantasize about just getting on a plane and going to the states just for a break. Then I feel guilty because none of my Haitian friends and neighbors can escape the way I want to sometimes. As others have said thanks for being so real, it's so refreshing and so encouraging for someone who is still getting her feet wet.
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