Journal excerpt from week in Haiti

I wrote this on October 5th when I was in Haiti.

The time here goes slower- the day seems to last longer, and when I look at my watch, I am often surprised that it is only 10 AM or only 3 PM, when it feels later. At the same time, it is already Sunday, and on Tuesday I have to leave my little boy and this world here. It is a world you either like or don't. There is steady noise here- people outside talking, a guitar playing and someone singing, bottles being sorted outside, and of course the intermitant crowing of a rooster. Whenever I hear a rooster, I will forever think of Haiti. A child is crying in the next room. There are many here who are in different stages of adoption, some coming close to the end and others, like myself, painfully aware that we are at the beginning of a long process.

Spendy is napping here beside me- sweat beaded up on his upper lip. He is beautiful. He is daily changing since I've been here. He started out guarded, hardly willing to leave my lap or Shanley's lap; now he will play nearby. He is nothing like two year olds I am used to. He guards his books we've given him, never putting them down at the orphanage. He will sit on one of our laps, content, never saying a word, only watching. Today he started talking to me. Of course it is in Creole...a sweet little voice. His eyes are huge, and he is very intelligent- figuring out how things work, carefully building. I think he may be particular, liking things just so. He eats everything- ate up all of his breakfast here at St. Joseph's, ate a bowl of mush at the orphanage, ate cheetos and salami and bread with goat cheese for lunch....eats salad, avocado, meat, rice, beans- there is nothing he won't eat. I am sure it is the difference of never having choices or the opportunity to eat at any time other than the appointed time.

I am sure it will be hard for him when we leave- all this attention will cease. Will he realize we will be back, since Shanley came back after this summer? Will it take him a while to warm back up to us? Will it be less traumatic for him than I imagine, simply because this is what he sees- parents coming and going? I do not know. I know I will miss him, my little Haitian son.