I believe it was in Grand Cayman last year when the name "meganary" was first said. A group of Three Angels ladies were on vacation in the Cayman Islands, thanks to the Monfils and their condo there. It was Shannon, Colleen, Gretchen, Leah, Janelle and myself.
I'm not sure how the conversation went. But I suppose someone used the word "missionary" in reference to me. I'm not really a fan of that word. I hope the word "missionary" doesn't take that personally. I just don't like being called one. And really, I don't like labels at all... I feel like calling myself a missionary is putting a label on me. I don't mind calling other people missionaries. Lottie Moon was a missionary. Adoniram Judson was a missionary. Elisabeth and Jim Elliot, they were missionaries. But, it just doesn't seem right to put my name, Megan Haug on that list.
I'm just a 25 year old single woman that lives and does mission work in Haiti. Aren't we all called to serve others and share the gospel? Whether you live in America, Haiti, China, Africa or the Cayman Islands (Hey, that place was amazing... I've considered moving and making that my mission field!!). So really, I'm not doing anything special. I'm not doing anything extraordinary. And if you knew me or worked with me during that first 1 1/2 I was in Haiti... you would know that! I'm just an average Joe. No different than any other believer. Well, okay... maybe different... but I'm certainly not any holier or stronger in my faith.
So that's the first reason I don't refer to myself as a missionary. The second is because that word comes with many stereotypes! We automatically assume a missionary is going to be these certain things. And most of those "missionary" things... are things that I am not. I don't wear long skirts... or even skirts at all. I have short spiky hair that I recently had dyed. I have tattoos. I enjoy a good beer. I probably don't talk like a missionary, either. While, I think the idea of a missionary is changing and developing... I mean, look at the Livesays or the Mangines, they aren't your stereotypical missionaries either!.... I still don't like the label.
And, so as a result of my protest to being called a missionary... I was dubbed the Meganary. I guess that just means I'm my own type of missionary?
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
daily life... part 1
It's been a while now since I said I would start posting about my Haiti experience. I managed to get in one post, about my move to Haiti, and that's it. Then, I just didn't know where to go from there. What to share, what not to share? While I love Haiti, and can't wait to get back... life there was hard. I'm going to keep this post pretty light, just sharing what things looked like for me day to day. Then I'll get into some deeper stuff. Maybe.
When people would find out that I lived and worked at an orphanage, of course the next question was "So what do you do there?". I always had a hard time answering that question. I'll try to answer it now. This will be more of what my first 7 months looked like living there. In April 2009, a doctor and his wife moved to Haiti... and having other people there changed my role and the day to day somewhat. So this is what it looked like when I lived there alone.
Eventually, I tried to make a better system. But at first, I was usually woken up, around 5 or 5:30, by a child peeking in my door and pointing out to the patio saying "slip". I finally figured out that it meant they were needing some of the clean underwear that was hanging out to dry on my patio. This went on for a good while. It seems so simple, right? Just don't put their underwear out to try on my patio. Or, collect it and give it to them at the end of the day, before going to bed. It sounds simple and easy. But, nothing is as simple or easy as it sounds. Especially in Haiti. Especially if it involves making a change.
I would usually get up around 6. After time, I started sleeping in until 7. If I wasn't woken up by kids needing underwear, it was a nanny needing milk, food, paycheck, money... any number of things. A cook would come to my room in the morning to get the cash they needed to buy the fresh food for the lunch meal. Usually some type of veggies and chicken. I would also have to go unlock the depot so the cooks, laundry ladies and house-cleaning could get their supplies for the day. Rice, maggi, onions, garlic and beans for the cook. At least two different soaps plus bleach for the laundry ladies. Once, when a board member was in country, we tried to convince them that they didn't need all these different types of soap. It didn't work. Pin-sol, bleach, and surface cleaner for house-keeping.
After everyone had what they needed for the morning, I would head back to my room for my cold, bucket shower. The nannies were usually doing their morning worship of singing and prayers at this point. I loved hearing them sing. I remember once, while I was taking my bucket shower, hearing them sing "Amazing Grace" in Kreyol. I've never heard a more beautiful rendition of it.
When people would find out that I lived and worked at an orphanage, of course the next question was "So what do you do there?". I always had a hard time answering that question. I'll try to answer it now. This will be more of what my first 7 months looked like living there. In April 2009, a doctor and his wife moved to Haiti... and having other people there changed my role and the day to day somewhat. So this is what it looked like when I lived there alone.
Eventually, I tried to make a better system. But at first, I was usually woken up, around 5 or 5:30, by a child peeking in my door and pointing out to the patio saying "slip". I finally figured out that it meant they were needing some of the clean underwear that was hanging out to dry on my patio. This went on for a good while. It seems so simple, right? Just don't put their underwear out to try on my patio. Or, collect it and give it to them at the end of the day, before going to bed. It sounds simple and easy. But, nothing is as simple or easy as it sounds. Especially in Haiti. Especially if it involves making a change.
I would usually get up around 6. After time, I started sleeping in until 7. If I wasn't woken up by kids needing underwear, it was a nanny needing milk, food, paycheck, money... any number of things. A cook would come to my room in the morning to get the cash they needed to buy the fresh food for the lunch meal. Usually some type of veggies and chicken. I would also have to go unlock the depot so the cooks, laundry ladies and house-cleaning could get their supplies for the day. Rice, maggi, onions, garlic and beans for the cook. At least two different soaps plus bleach for the laundry ladies. Once, when a board member was in country, we tried to convince them that they didn't need all these different types of soap. It didn't work. Pin-sol, bleach, and surface cleaner for house-keeping.
After everyone had what they needed for the morning, I would head back to my room for my cold, bucket shower. The nannies were usually doing their morning worship of singing and prayers at this point. I loved hearing them sing. I remember once, while I was taking my bucket shower, hearing them sing "Amazing Grace" in Kreyol. I've never heard a more beautiful rendition of it.
Here's my shower. We didn't have running water, but a drip would come out of the shower facet. The blue tub would collect that drip. Sometimes water would drip, sometimes it wouldn't. Someone usually had to carry water up in a bucket to fill the blue tub. And that was my water for showering and flushing the toilet.
When I first moved there, I spent a lot of time cleaning and organizing. Here I was sorting through some clothes, so we could figure out what we had and what we needed by sizes and gender. And the next one is Reece helping me sort through all the stuff i the storage room in my room.
I think that's enough for part 1... part 2 hopefully coming soon!!
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