Cows, Beaches, Babies

Today’s post is once again from my friends at Reimagine Haiti. I hope you find it as interesting as I did.

All content is theirs, and I claim no credit for what they write. But I pray for them and hope you will as well.

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Reimagine Haiti is the brainchild of three long-term missionaries, living and working in Haiti. With 10+ combined years on-the-ground, we concluded the need to REIMAGINE the non-profit concept and create something fresh, unique and innovative. We have entrenched our peppy new organization in the SE region of Belle Anse and pledged to be tenacious advocates of total community advancement! By tossing aside the detrimental practice of hand-outs in favor of galvanizing relationships, we will be a catalyst for change today and lead a renaissance of prosperity and sustainability for the future generations of Haiti.

The Founders

The Founders

Thirsty to know more? Intrigued? Just plain confused? Be enlightened in all the usual places.

On the web:
Twitter: @ReimagineHaiti

And of course, our blogs.

Today’s blog comes from co-founder (and malnutrition recovery expert), Brittany:

I stared at the tiny mound of dirt just 3 feet away. ”That’s my baby” he said, “we just buried her today.”

Those words never get any easier to hear, they never get any less significant, and they always make me think, “what if that was my child?” boatsandcows

Cafou Bod is a very small village far off in the mountains of Belle Anse. Hardly anyone goes there, and no foreigner has ever traveled there. But there we were, on our way, excited and naïve. We started our journey on a small fishing boat. We traveled about an hour along the coast that was surrounded by cliffs until we finally reached a flat piece of land. It was not easy, by any means. The waves were so big that all of us were thrown into the water, and a few of us were pretty badly injured. But we made it. We walked along the beach with the dozens of cows who were coming to get water.

We hiked 6 hours deep into the mountains that day. We had bottled water and a protein bar in our backpacks, knowing there wouldn’t be any clean drinking water or food once we set out on our journey. We followed a path marked by dirty footprints, because there was no road. When the dirt stopped, we waited for a kind woman or child walking by with a gallon of water on their head to ask for directions. Usually they were kind enough to show us the way and let us follow them for a mile or so. Then they would point us in the right direction and wish us luck.

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