One of the obstacles I find in my work with Haitians is language. I know I need to learn to speak and understand Haitian Creole, but so far, no. My failure with the language is frustrating, but it creates a weakness that puts me in a healthy place of dependency. I need my closest Haitian friends to help me when I am in a time and place where Haitian Creole are the only words. And, as we know, words are important. Words lead to understanding and understanding leads to reconciliation and reconciliation leads to peace inside and outside.
I went to First Haitian Baptist Church yesterday. The service had already started when I arrived, so I sat in the parking lot and listened to the voices of Haiti filling the air inside and outside of the building. It was a hot, humid Sunday morning in Kansas City. I was asked to come to the church to meet a visiting pastor from St. Louis.
I am not sure why it felt right to sit in the parking lot and listen, but it did. And so I sat and listened to the hymns in Haitian. I have been with the Haitian church long enough to recognize particular hymns. I have started to hear and recognize certain tunes, and even begun to follow the cadence of the words and the music. What I do not yet understand are the words, the language. My ears and my mind have not yet been able to turn the sounds into language, at least not completely. I recognize a few words but to be able to give and receive in Haitian Creole is still beyond my reach.
After a time, I walked across the street from the parking lot to the church and up the stairs from the sidewalk to the front door. I went inside and found a seat near the back. I smiled at familiar faces and they smiled at me. All around me Haitian voices me were singing and praying and I could only listen quietly and strain toward understanding. At a point it occurred to me I was trying too hard to understand the words. At a point it occurred to me that what I should do is to quit trying to hear the voices of praise and prayer and try to feel the voices of praise and prayer. I had been working, straining to understand the words.
The elements of the service were very familiar, much like many Christian worship services: songs, prayers, offering and sermon. The Preacher from St. Louis came to the pulpit and though the words were unfamiliar, the posture, the pattern and the cadence were familiar. This man engaged and charmed the listeners. This man challenged the listeners. This man took us along with him through words, but also through body language and expression. I understood few words he spoke, but I could tell he was a gifted preacher.
I understood few words, but for some reason, on two occasions during the sermon, this man spoke in English. The entire sermon was in Haitian Creole, except for two occasions. The first words in English caught me off guard. It happened so quickly that I missed the meaning of the English. But it occurred to me that In a Haitian service any English spoken was spoken for me, offered to me as a word that I needed to hear. And so, the next time English came from this man, I was ready for it. The stream of Creole was suddenly, without warning interrupted and I heard these words: “We make our living from what we receive; we make our life from what we give.” I think I needed to hear these words. Who among us does not need to hear these words?
Yesterday I was sitting in the center of Haitian language and Haitian culture. Yesterday I was given the words I needed to hear. I told this story to a friend later in the day. My friend’s response: “I know you heard the words in English. Are you sure the words were spoken in English?” Hard to say, I suppose I heard what I needed to hear.
Later, under a shade tree in the parking lot, a friend, a women from Haiti spoke to me in her best English. She gently told me “you need to learn Creole”. She is right, of course she is right. Still, as I learn, I hope I can continue to hear what I need to hear when it comes to me: “We make our living from what we receive; we make our life from what we give.”
