Homecoming

Last weekend, we celebrated our final Homecoming as Dartmouth undergraduates. It was wonderful to see some alumni friends back on campus, but so strange to think that the '10s will be alums after this year.

I love the traditions of Homecoming. A few days before the festivities begin, the freshman class starts constructing a massive bonfire in the center of the Green. We always wonder if they'll finish it in time - somehow, it's always completed on Friday afternoon. I spent most of that afternoon at home, since we were hosting Christian Impact's Family Night that evening. Usually, we meet in a dorm lounge on campus, but all of those were being used as gathering spots for freshmen. Since the freshmen don't usually come to the Homecoming Family Night anyways, we usually do something really low-key. This year, it was just dinner. I planned for far more people than had responded to our invitation, which was a good thing - we had more than 30 students, staff, and alums at our house! Annie and I kept busy making corn chowder, cheese biscuits, salad, and cake. I didn't get as much time to visit as I'd hoped, but it was still a great time.

Around 8, a group of us walked up to the Green to watch the Dartmouth Night ceremonies and the bonfire. There are always several speakers, introductions of the sports teams, and some music by the Glee Club. It's a good program, but it was rather chilly and starting to rain. We were anxious for the bonfire to be lit. The freshmen were especially anxious. Following tradition, they were gathered in a circle around the fire, ready to run around once it was lit. Every freshman is supposed to run the number of laps of their class year - so some of the '13s were aiming for 113. My freshman year, I lost count around 30, but kept running for a while longer. Each year since, I've run at least 10 more - so I should have completed 110 now! It's quite a feat - some of the '13s who ran all 113 calculated that they'd run more than 10 miles.

Once the bonfire died down, I headed home to prepare for the "Early '80s" dance party at Sigma Nu. A big group from Ci / Navigators always goes together (for most of us, it's the only time we go out to the frats). Of course, one must dress up for this occasion. I borrowed a ridiculous '80s prom dress from some friends (who had their own ridiculous outfits), and we took plenty of pictures before walking over to Webster Avenue. '80s can get a little crowded and sketchy, so I'm always glad that we go in a big group with several guys. We ended up staying until 2am - and then walked back to School St. in cold, pouring rain.

It was still pouring when the football game began Saturday afternoon. I didn't go to the first half - our football team hadn't won a game in almost 2 years, and I didn't see the point of getting soaked unnecessarily. We followed the webcast from home for a while. At halftime, we were ahead 14-0, and I wanted to see my roommate Diane perform in the marching band, so I walked up to the stadium and found a few brave (and wet) friends in the stands. Since the game was going well and it wasn't raining too hard, I stayed for the second half. This was easily the most exciting football game I've ever been to. Every time our team made a good play, the players on the sideline would go crazy. At one point, they even got a penalty for "excessive celebration." No one cared, though - because we finally won. We even rushed the field - an activity which normally gets you arrested, but the security folks just joined the celebration. I was so glad that our last homecoming as Dartmouth undergrads ended on such a happy note!

Another day in the life

I've been back at school for about three weeks now, and I'm starting to settle into my routine for the term. I'm living off-campus this year, which is a major change. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about it. As much as I love sharing a huge house with four of my closest friends, it's easy to feel isolated here. We're only a five-minute walk from the college green, but we just don't see as many people when we eat and study at home. I try to spend as much of my spare time on campus as possible to make up for this!

A day at school is much more predictable than a day in Haiti. I'm grateful for the consistency, but I miss my hectic life in Port-au-Prince so much.

At college, "early" is a relative term. I try to get up at 7, which puts me far ahead of most other people on campus. By 7:45, I've gathered up my supplies for the day and started the walk to campus. I usually stop at Collis, our student center, for a breakfast of a muffin and tea, and then wander over to the library.

I love studying in the library, but it can get so crowded! In the morning, though, it's always empty. I try not to leave any of my homework for this time in the morning - I'd much rather use it as a chance to review what I've done the night before.

My first class on MWF - Biological Anthropology - meets at 8:45. It's an interesting class, though I'm not sure I agree with all of the professor's opinions. I needed a science course to fulfill my final distributive requirement for my degree, and I've enjoyed other anthropology courses in the past. I think I'll survive :-)

When Anthro is over, I go back to the library. My 10:00 Greek class meets on the third floor. This is definitely my challenge course for the term. Though I'm majoring in Classical Languages, I haven't taken a Greek class since last fall. All the French- and Creole-speaking in between has made things a little fuzzy. We're translating selections from Plato's Republic. After a week and a half, I'm finally starting to get back up to speed.

After Greek, I might sit in the library and start the translation for the next class, or stop at Collis and pick up a salad for lunch. In the afternoon, I usually head to the painting studio. Painting II is my third class, which meets two mornings a week. Again, things are coming along slowly - I haven't taken painting since last fall, either. One of my favorite things about this class is that we each get our own section of the classroom as our studio for the term. I have a spot in the corner by a window, which is just about all I need! Our first assignment was to paint something outside - on perhaps the coldest day of the fall so far. We've moved back inside now. This afternoon, I did several progressively abstract paintings of fall foliage and power lines. It was a productive time.

I supposedly take a tennis class two afternoons a week. It's been raining fairly often, so we haven't played yet. Perhaps tomorrow?

Monday evenings are wonderful. At 5:30, we journey to Food Court for MATCHING MONDAY. This is another enduring Dartmouth institution, founded by Emily and me last fall. One dreary evening, Emily wanted to wear her zebra skirt to dinner. We decided I should wear a black and white skirt, too. Then, we discovered we both owned bright orange button-down sweaters. The tradition was born. We now have 8 to 10 regular attendees, many of whom join in on the weekly theme (unless it involves dresses, skirts, or the color pink - about half of these regular attendees are male).

After MATCHING MONDAY (always in all-caps. ALWAYS), we have our weekly Christian Impact Family Meeting. This is a sort of open leadership meeting, where about 15 of us get together to share what's going on in our lives, pray for any concerns, and make some plans for the ministry. It's such a wonderful way to end an often-crazy Monday.

Saturday morning

It's a cold and rainy day in Maine - so different from Haiti!  I'm settled in a new coffeeshop in South Berwick, enjoying the warmth and the free internet.  I find it a little odd that I have better internet access when I'm in Haiti than I do when I'm at home.  Here, I have venture to Panera, the library, or even the hospital to get a wireless connection.  I often wonder what would happen if we took all the money I spent on coffee and tea and invested in a good internet setup at home :-)

I just uploaded a few more of my Haiti pictures to my Flickr page.  Please check them out - www.flickr.com/photos/millzes.  Enjoy!

The Origin of IronGirl

ZebraGirl and IronGirl, ready to take on the world

Now that I'm back in Maine and thinking a bit more clearly, I've realized that some people may be wondering about IronGirl.  You probably know that I don't run triathlons or any such "IronMan" events, but that I really (really, really) enjoy ironing.  Still, I think everyone should hear the exciting story of how IronGirl came to be.  You'll learn a lot about Dartmouth traditions, too.  It all started almost exactly one year ago...

You might think that Dartmouth students stay far away from school during the few weeks between terms.  For those of us who live close by, that's not usually the case.  After Sophomore Summer, my roommate Emily and I decided to participate in the time-honored tradition of "raiding Trips."  The vast majority of Dartmouth freshmen go on these Trips, student-led adventures in the wilderness of Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont.  Many upperclassmen, in turn, go to great lengths to "raid" the Trips with crazy costumes, funny situations, and often a much-needed snack.

Back in 2006, I braved the "Psycho Hiking" trip over 20-odd miles of the Appalachian Trail.  I still remember the afternoon we were raided: our group was leaving the parking lot at the bottom of the Beaver Brook trail, trying not to think about the 2-hour climb up a jumble of steep rocks.  We paused before crossing a footbridge, and I turned around and looked back over the road we'd just taken into the woods.  Imagine my surprise when I see not a fellow hiker, not a bunch of trees, but a guy in a blue fuzzy bathrobe, with neon pink hair, skipping towards us.  He invited us back to the parking lot, where we met two more characters like him.  One was wearing leiderhosen.  My confused Trippees (fellow freshmen) and I played some strange version of "The Dating Game" with the raiders, and then sat in their van where they gave us some wonderfully warm hot chocolate.  One of them drove around in circles while the others introduced themselves and shared a bit about their Dartmouth experiences.  Our trip leaders wanted us to get hiking, though - the raid had taken time, and it was getting dark and rainy.  These wonderful raiders decided to help us out a bit - they hiked up the trail (practically running) in front of us, carrying our unwieldy backpacks all the way to the shelter at the top.  So this was my first experience with raiders.  I thought they were pretty cool, though a little crazy.  I'd certainly never be like that.

Fall 2008: I realize that last statement was entirely false.  Over a brief two days, Emily and I raided no less than four trips (actually, five: one of them was a mistake).  We drove to campus together from Emily's house in southern NH, and set up camp in our new dorm room.  This was an experience in itself:  Wheeler 212 consisted of one, 187-square foot room.  In this room were two beds (at least we'd bunked them), two desks, two bookcases, half of my school stuff, half of Emily's school stuff, and miscellaneous other stuff we were storing for people.  None of it was unpacked.  To this mess we added a huge box of flair (crazy attire Dartmouth students pull out for a variety of special occasions), baking supplies, hiking gear, and two sleeping bags.  We sat on the floor amidst all the boxes, got out some trail maps, and started planning our strategy.

Raid #1:  A friend of ours was leading an "Easy Hiking" trip in Norwich, just across the border in VT.  Several people we were somewhat acquainted with also wanted to raid this trip, so we coordinated.  Emily and I baked cookies, put on some ridiculous outfits, and went to meet up with our fellow raiders late in the afternoon.  We all drove to Norwich, found the trailhead without much difficulty, and started the hike.  This raid wasn't terribly well-planned: our best idea was to send a guy in a Pikachu costume running through the campsite when we arrived.  We would all chase him, disappear into the woods, and return with a small stereo to have a dance party.  We hadn't counted on the 4-mile hike to the campsite, so we arrived just at dusk.  The raid went well, though we cut the dance party a bit short since we didn't have many flashlights.  We hiked the four miles back in the dark, and had only two close encounters with porcupines.  Emily and I were exhausted, but we needed to prepare for the next day's two planned raids.  We drove to West Lebanon, ate dinner at Wendy's (with everyone staring at our ridiculous clothing), and then went to the 24-hour PriceChopper to buy supplies.  We wanted to start the next day bright and early with a breakfast raid on a hiking trip up in the mountains.

Raid #2: We woke up at 4 AM, after only a few hours of sleep, and wandered down to the Wheeler kitchen to begin preparations.  I baked scones, Emily made scrambled eggs, and then we packed everything up and climbed into the car.  The drive to this trip's campsite took about an hour, through beautiful rural NH.  We parked on a narrow dirt road, put on zebra costumes, and started walking in with our food.  Our plan was to wake up the Trippees (including the younger sister of a good friend) and surprise them with breakfast.  Nothing ever goes according to plan: an "official" raid from the Dartmouth Outing Club had already arrived, and the raiders were attempting to cook pancakes.  So we wandered up in our zebra costumes, confusing everyone for a little while, and then pulled out the food.  The Trippees and raiders were glad we'd come:  their pancakes were not turning out too well, and we'd brought scones, eggs, sausage, orange juice, and fresh fruit.  We enjoyed a wonderful breakfast with our new freshmen friends, and headed for campus after about an hour.  On our way out, we had a brief conversation with a guy who was hiking alone, headed south on the AT.  He seemed a little overwhelmed by all the strange costumes and crazy energy in this quiet section of the White Mountains.

Raid #3: Another "Easy Hiking" trip, on the same trail we'd raided the night before.  One of Emily's friend's friends was a Trippee on this section.  We worked on this raid alone, too: things are far less complicated that way.  We decided to be eccentric old-lady gardeners, who would set up along the trail and invite an unsuspecting Trippee to pull up the rare "Canadian Groundfruit."  The "Canadian Groundfruit" is an old trick: you bury a pineapple so only the top is showing, and have someone unearth it.  It's surprising how many people will fall for it, I've heard.  Anyway, we wanted to avoid another 8-mile hike, so we consulted some maps and found a side trail that would put us right where we wanted to be, after only a 10-minute walk.  So off we went, burying the pineapple, arranging some bananas and strawberries on various bushes, and making nonsense Latin-sounding signs for everything.  Finally, we heard the group approaching.  We hid farther up the trail, then went down to greet them, skipping over the rocks and carrying on in ridiculous voices.  We invited everyone to look at our garden, and gave Emily's friend's friend, Liz, the honor of pulling up the rare Canadian Groundfruit.  Sadly, they weren't fooled.  We hiked with them the rest of the way to their shelter, cleaned up our garden, and drove back to campus.  What a day!

If you've read this far, you're probably wondering where IronGirl comes in.  Never fear!  There's still one more raid (and one accidental raid) to go, remember?  The next day...

Raid #4: One of Emily's Trippees from 2007 was leading a trip just north of campus, at the Dartmouth Skiway.  We knew this needed to be a good raid, but we were running short of ideas.  We'd already worn our zebra costumes, we'd already used the "Canadian Groundfruit" trick... what could we do?  Then, it dawned on us:  superheroes.  Emily, of course, would be ZebraGirl.  I looked around our half-unpacked dorm room for inspiration.  That's when I saw it: my iron.  I'd been wanting to use it on a raid.  If Emily could be ZebraGirl, why couldn't I be IronGirl?  It was perfect.  We both suited up in super-hero capes (made from bathrobes and scarves), packed the iron, some brownies, and various random cooking utensils (you never know...), and went to get lunch.  By this time, I was entirely comfortable walking around campus in ostentatious clothing.  To get to Emily's car, though, we had to walk down Main Street.  One little girl was staring at us with obvious curiosity - any perhaps a little admiration :-)

There's an easy trail up the back of the skiway, so we followed that for a 20-minute hike to the top.  We tiptoed around a corner at the top of the hill, and saw a pile of hiking packs.  We snuck a little further, and decided that the voices we were hearing were the Trippees (though we hadn't expected them to be there already).  So, we hid our packs in some bushes (taking only the iron, and a kitchen utensil each) and bushwhacked around for a while.  Finally, we emerged on a ski slope slightly below where the group was gathered.  We hid in the grass and observed for a while:  we didn't see the trip leader we were expecting, but we were fairly sure this was the right group.  So, after a few minutes, we began our act.

IronGirl: AHHHHHHHHHH! (runs across the ski slope)

ZebraGirl: IronGirl, come back here and fight like a man! (follows, brandishing a wooden spoon)

IronGirl: But my super hero cape is getting wrinkled... (sits down and attempts to iron super hero cape)

ZebraGirl: You're just jealous because I made better brownies.

IronGirl: NO I'M NOT! (start whacking each other with wooden spoons)

Once we had the Trippees' attention, we "noticed" them for the first time and decided to stop fighting.  And fed them brownies.  They were totally confused, and with good reason:  this was not the trip we were supposed to raid.  Oh well - now 10 more freshmen think Emily and I are totally insane.

So, we headed down the trail to wait for the other trip.  We found a likely spot, and sat down.  For a while, we tried to hide, but as it became obvious that we'd be there a while, we gave up.  All of a sudden, from the opposite direction, a hiker appears.  It was the same guy we'd spoken to the morning before, during the breakfast raid 30 miles or so to the north.  He didn't seem too surprised that the crazy zebras had turned into super heroes.  We gave him some brownies and a bag of M&Ms, which made him very happy.  He went on, promising not to tell any Trippees he encountered about our plan.  

Finally, we saw some Trippee-type people trudging up the trail - they'd been going uphill for a very long time.  I jumped out from behind a rock, and ran toward them.

IronGirl: ZebraGirl, STOP IT!!!!

ZebraGirl: IronGirl, come back here and fight like a man! (in close pursuit)

IronGirl: But my cape is getting wrinkled...

ZebraGirl: You're just jealous of my brownies!

IronGirl: I AM NOT! (and the whacking-with-spoons commences)

These poor trippees looked fairly stunned.  Finally, we introduced ourselves as important super heroes who needed the trippees to decide whose brownies were better.  I even tried to iron their very wrinkly clothes, but they weren't too excited about that.  Once they got over the shock, they decided that all the brownies were equally good.  We hiked up to the top with them, and then turned around to head home.  Though our days of raiding were over, the legacy of Dartmouth's two super heroes would endure...

Heading home...

In about two hours, I'm going to the airport to start my journey home. It's really hard to leave this time. Port-au-Prince has been, essentially, my home since the end of March. I've gone back to America twice in that time, but both times I've left Haiti knowing the date of my return. This time, I can't tell the kids when I'll be back. And believe me, they keep asking. But the Lord knows - I'm sure I'll see them again someday.

Yesterday at the feeding program, Erta told the 70-plus kids that I was leaving. Then, she told them all to come give me a hug. Of course, some of the little ones were a little too eager, and I nearly fell on top of them. I was standing at the edge of a three-foot drop in our sports area, and a few of the kids almost went over. Luckily, everyone was smiling when they got up! I love helping kids in the clinic, but I didn't want my last time in there to be bandaging up kids I'd accidentally fallen on. Some of the kiddos weren't there yesterday - little Laniese and Makenlove didn't come. An older girl usually brings them, because their mother leaves them alone at home all day. That older girl didn't come, so they didn't make it, either. In spite of that, I had a great time playing with Merica, holding some of the kids who were too small for a dodgeball game, and finding prospects for the clinic afterward. It was so sad to say goodbye to everyone as they left for home - Lovely, Johnny, Junior, Lulu, Merica, Donaldson, Ensise and Venette, Roseline, Samson... so many precious little children of God.

Last night, Bill and Susette took me out for dinner. We drove around Petion-Ville in the dark for a while, looking for a restaurant that no longer existed. So we ended up at a beautiful old hotel, which to my delight had cats running around the dining room. Susette and I ordered fish, so we had an instant friend. Only in Haiti can you get away with feeding a kitty from the table at a fancy restaurant...

I'm always amazed at how blessed I've been to have Bill and Susette and all their kids as a family in Haiti. After all, these are people I found after Googling "haiti orphanage" back in the fall of 2008. Isn't it wonderful how God brings people together?

I'm planning to keep writing this blog once I return to America. There are still so many stories of Haiti to share, and of course, there's whatever senior year at Dartmouth will bring. Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement during this season of my life. Please continue to join me in praying for this beautiful country and its amazing people.

Merica

This precious little girl is named Merica.  She lives in our neighborhood with her mother and three siblings, and she's been on our hearts a lot lately.  Merica is six years old, and has some sort of developmental disability.  Her mother has an extremely hard time caring for all her children, and will let us take Merica into our girls' home.  As much as we want to accept, the staff here are taking time to pray before making any decisions.  We want to provide the best possible environment for Merica - which would mean hiring and training a staff member to look after her exclusively, and considering carefully how the other girls will accept her.

Merica was born with a twin, who died during or shortly after the birth.  An American doctor on a missions team did the delivery, so her mother named the baby girl after America.  She's been severely malnourished, and didn't start to walk until last year.  She has started to talk a little bit, but hasn't gotten beyond a few words.  She understands Creole fairly well, though.  When I ask her questions, she'll usually respond by nodding, shaking her head, or smiling.  We wonder to what extent her problems are worsened by the malnutrition - if she ate three full meals a day, how much more would she develop?  Right now, she probably weighs less than 25 pounds.

Her family situation is very sad.  Her two older siblings, Mari and Duprenne, attend an English school in the neighborhood, so they can communicate with us.  Both of them are extremely small for their age, and often come to our house saying they're hungry.  Mari, who is only 12, gets left with a lot of the responsibility for Merica and two-year-old Jameson.  The four children are part of our feeding program, but sometimes Merica and Jameson don't show up.  When someone goes to their house to see what happened, they'll often find Merica sitting in the dirt, without clothes on, completely alone.  I'm not sure where the mother goes during the day.  In the past, we've given her some food to cook for her family, but the children still show up hungry.  Apparently, their mother will sometimes sell the donated food - I'm not sure what she hopes to gain from that.

In spite of all this, Merica always finds something to smile about.  She loves the people involved in our ministry.  When she arrives at the feeding program, she'll find each one of us, reach out, and give us a hug.  She'll laugh when we let her try on our glasses, or help her play with a ball.  We drove her family home after the feeding program today - I've never seen her so happy as when she got to sit in the front seat of the truck with Susette, proudly wearing Bill's sunglasses.  When we arrived and told her to go with Mommy, she giggled and didn't want to get out.  Her presence is always such a blessing for us.  Please pray for wisdom as we decide how we can best help this amazing little girl, and that the Lord will comfort and provide for her and her family.

Loose ends

I think this is a good time to give an update on some things that I've mentioned recently, just in case people have been wondering!

Monise, our guesthouse cook, had her baby girl last night.  She left work at 5 pm, went home, went to the hospital, and the baby was born around 8 - wow!  Her cousin is filling in for her until she's ready to come back to work.  I hope I get to see Monise and the little girl before I come home!

Venette, the girl with malaria, is still sick.  According to her older sister, she has a fever every night.  She's certainly improved, though.  She doesn't feel as warm, is behaving normally, and ate a full meal at the feeding program today.  For now, we're giving her some fever medicine as needing and making sure she drinks enough water.

Julie, one of the girls rescued from across the street, went home yesterday with a sister.  Jacqueline is still living at the girls' home until we can contact her family.  This may be a very complicated process - I think we have to contact someone in Canada who can give us the contact information of her family in another part of Haiti.

My fingers are completely better.  Whatever happened to them healed fairly quickly.  I still have two little bruises, but I've been playing basketball with no problems whatsoever.

I'm coming home on Tuesday, September 1st.  It will be tough to leave... the other two times I've left Haiti, I've known the date I'll be returning.  This time, I have no idea when that will be.  I'm trying to make the most of my last few days here!