Cross cultural offerings.

So, I'm resurrecting this blog. Mainly because I'm tired of blogging at tumblr. (I will still keep my account because, hey - it's the new trendy, right?) And I don't have time to remodel some blog to look as cute & pristine as this one does. I went through & edited out some of the whiney, broody, self-reflecting posts in here.

Because they were dumb.

I think I'm realizing, more & more, how ridiculous keeping a sentimental online blog is. It's not a good look for me & I am feeling more weird about it. These are just my personal feelings on the matter. However, if that's what you're doing for you - great. Keep it up. Because I enjoy creeping on your thoughts.

As I was editing through, I found a blog post that I wrote while I was in Haiti, in January. I could never really find time to finish it or the right flavor to finish it. But today, fortunately for you, I did. Enjoy your "Liz's Blog Resurrection Tuesday."

It's nice that I'm coming back to my blog, that I haven't touched in ages, talk about my time in Haiti. Mainly because I don't have a journal while I'm here; something I'm kicking myself in the pants for.

Sidebar: As an internal processor, not having a journal is as though I have no one to talk to. I really do not know how to externally process with other people.

For now: this will do.

I've been in Haiti for a handful of days & I am already remembering how hilarious cross cultural mishaps are. Or should I say, how hilarious they are not.

First, the language barrier. I can say "Hello", "How are you?", "What is your name?", "I am happy to see you", "I only speak very little Creole" & "No, I don't need a taxi driver" all in Creole. All necessary phrases when in Port Au Prince, might I add. But, when they hear me speak Creole, they just assume I am fluent. Whoops. Which is where the "I only speak very little Creole" comes in handy. At which the Haitians get frustrated because I teased them with only a small sample of a whitey speaking their native language. I mean, they appreciate the effort, but get a little sad when they realize I am completely ignorant.

Second, they are not shy. They hand off their babies to you like it's no big deal. In Haiti, if a complete stranger wants to hold your infant: NBD. We walked into a village, in which we had never been before, and we were asked into a hut for dinner. If a bunch of strangers walked into my back yard, I would be calling the 5-0.

Thirdly, driving. I will never complain about Texas drivers. Ever. Again.

Above all, I'm realizing how much I have romanticized living overseas. I mean that with the best of intentions. The people that live here, who are ex-pats, are away from their families or extended families. Right now, I'm not really sure I'm there yet. I'm not sure I'm ready to live more than 5 hours away from my family. I could probably do 12, but not a whole continent.

In addition: At church I saw a small little girl put two quarters in an offering plate. Earlier, I saw her throw those two quarters in bucket of pee.

Sorry, Jesus.