Monday, December 12th,
2011
Follow me as I take a walk through
the village of Carries. Stroll up the
rocky path, past fences of pencil cactus, homes of rusted tin and crumbling
concrete. Children shouting and waving
at us as we pass their yard. We reach
the gate of the mission compound and, before mounting the hill, we turn to
smile at the passel of noisy children that has gathered behind us. When they see we’ve noticed them, a few
shriek and run away playfully, but they don’t go far, because as soon as we
continue our ascent they file right back in with the rest of the group,
“sneaking” about fifty feet behind us.
By the time we reach the inner gate
of our mission yard about thirty filthy, half-naked children are in a crowd following
us. We turn just before entering the
yard, and I shout, “Hurry! Go clean up and get dressed! We have practice this
afternoon!” Pageant practice was supposed to begin at 3:00…it’s 3:30 now…by the
time the kids return it will be 3:45.
Don’t worry, though…no one here has a schedule of things to accomplish
before the day is through, so there’s really no such thing as “late” in Haiti.
Around 4:00 the singing begins. Ten
or so kids have arrived, clean as a whistle, hair done and clothes changed, and
their voices soon alert the rest of the neighborhood that rehearsal has
officially begun. Christmas melodies sung in Creole, French and English soon
fill the air, smiles on every face as the children strain to hear the words and
learn each tune. Dee and I take turns leading them in repeating the verses over
and over until they sound confident in each song. You are surprised at how quickly they
memorize them? With good reason, for we are used to pages, screens, and
projectors. No need to memorize – the words are there in front of you every
time. But these children, from the moment they were born, have learned
everything they know by memorization. School is mostly oral repetition, stories
are passed from generation to generation by word of mouth, very few people own
books or hymnals. Only a percentage of the population can read or write. All
prayers and Scripture passages are quoted from memory, as are all songs. It’s
all they know.
And so the most difficult task
while practicing for the program is not teaching them the songs, or even their
lines to recite, but in actuality, just keeping them still and quiet is the
real challenge. See? There’s one now – giving the kid next to him a smack on
the leg. Now they’re both fighting…hold on a second while I take care of this.
Here; he’s gonna come sit with us now. So, most of them come from homes where
their parents (if both parents even live with them) are rarely home because
they spend all day at work or trying to sell food at the marketplace so they
can bring enough money home to feed their family for the day. No guidance (not
to mention no food or basic necessities) all day means when the parents are home the only way they know to
control their unruly children is with a belt or a switch. This is the only
discipline most of them know. Run wild during the day, whipping from the mama
at night. Have you heard the phrase, “Haitians don’t hear with their ears, they
heard with their backside,”? Well, that’s the reason for it.
However, Dee and I have a
different format. The children know that if they don’t sit still, listen, and
do their best, they’re out, just like that. And no one wants that to happen. They’re too curious to know what this
whole “Christmas program” thing is all about.
Watch: today is the first time
I’m showing them some of the costumes. Here’s one of the shepherds’…and the
angels’…see their reactions? I love this part. Doesn’t it make it all
worthwhile? And just wait…next week when we come the kids will be waiting for us.
Now that we’ve given them a little taste they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Well, it’s starting to get
dark. Time to let the kids go. Though it was like pulling teeth to get them to
come, now they don’t want to leave. Every one of them has to touch each of our
hands, grab onto our arms as we walk down the church steps, help us carry our
bags and papers out to the truck. Finally the last of them skips down the path
and stands at the gate until we drive past, waving as we turn the corner. We
smile and wave back, calling “Good night!” What do you think? Will you join me
again next week? I thought so.
