Haiti part 2: my family set me free

I really had no idea why exactly we were going on this trip for sure.  I did know I wanted to experience the country and learn how to tell stories of the place.  I knew I wasn't going for "relief work" in the traditional sense, of Americans showing up to "help out" the work projects, not much focusing on everything else.  In order to tell a story, you need context.  Thankfully our trip has had much context, the bad, the good, and everything in between.

Our first fun cultural experience was Thursday night the 19th when we went to see the Haitian musical sensation RAM at the famous Hotel Oloffson.  We had a fantastic night of great food and dancing in the restaurant at an old, plantation style hotel that has collected much history in Port-Au-Prince.  A highlight of the night was when all of a sudden Win Butler and Regine Chassagne of Arcade Fire took the stage with RAM!  I learned Regine was of Haitian descent.

They of course, played this song:



"Haiti" by Arcade Fire"
Haiti, mon pays
Wounded mother I'll never see
Ma famille set me free
Throw my ashes into the sea

Mes cousins jamais nes
Hantent les nuits de Duvalier
Rien n'arrete nos espirits
Guns can't kill what soldiers can't see

In the forest we are hiding
Unmarked graves where flowers grow
Hear the soldiers angry yelling
In the river we will go

Tous les morts-nes forment une armee
Soon we will reclaim the earth
All the tears and all the bodies
Bring about our second birth

Haiti, never free
N'aie pas peur de sonner l'alarme
Tes enfants sont partis
In those days their blood was still warm
-----
We stayed in a hotel in town that night...supporting the tourism industry which is in great need!

Haiti part 1: Something is always burning

Five pastors, one student, and one documentary filmmaker boarded a plane to Haiti early Wednesday morning, August 18th, in Miami.

I wasn't sure what to expect upon landing.  Based on media coverage and word of mouth, it sounded like Haiti would be in complete chaos - rubble all over the streets, looting going on everywhere, nothing functioning as it did before.  Although this turned out to be far exaggerated, I came to discover many of the chaos in Haiti has been present long before the quake ever hit.

We come out of the airport pushing our way through guys trying to make a dime by helping us move our bags.  One of them finally fools us by telling us he's with the "airport" and needs to take the luggage cart back.  We roll with it.  When we get in our "tap tap" (Haitian taxis, basically truck beds with roofs), we begin to ride through the city, witnessing some of the poorest parts of town.  As we make our way towards Blanchard, we see homes along the way.  Life looks similar to what I've witnessed rural or poor areas are like in other countries (Turkey, China, Guatemala).  However, this time there is the added element of tents, blue and white, every open space you look across.  As we travel down the dirt roads we smell burning and notice riverbeds piled full of paper, styrofoam, and plastic.  There is a black smoke emitting from them.  Our guide nonchalantly says, "yeah, something is always burning around here." This is what happens when there is no infrastructure for such things.

We meet up with our first hosts, a mission known as Haiti Outreach Ministries.  Similar to a group I worked with in Mexico (Constructores Para Christo), these guys are focused on building houses, churches, medical facilities, and schools within communities in the poorest parts of Port Au Prince (Blanchard, City Soleil, and Repatriote).  They are doing hard work through the help of volunteers, employing several Haitians along the way.  However, I have some misgivings about their evangelism approach.  They also seem to be disengaged from political engagement, something I assume to be a theological standpoint of the ministry.  I would come to realize however, that this disengagement runs extremely deep throughout the country.

The next day (August 19th) we would tour Port-Au-Prince.  Stores and houses along the street stood beside massive piles of rubble and collapsed buildings.  The lack of progress in cleanup was truly evident.  I asked our guide why and realized a lot of it was due to government roadblocks, lack of initiative to make a massive effort.  Also, I learned a lot of aid money had been used in consultation, as those looking to rebuild were seeking ways to prevent future damage.  The cost is great indeed.







A very haunting view of the rubble was when we visited the national cathedral.  What was once a gorgeous structure standing as a monument to the city is now a massive pile of rubble.  We walked into the structure along with a few Haitian kids, hoping to serve as our "tour guides." The roof had completely collapsed.  The giant stained glass windows were cracked and shattered.  Columns had fallen.

It's funny to me how the largest buildings, built as testaments of strength, are often the first ones to fall.  And when they do, they make a statement. I got caught up in emotion when I realized that giant piles of rubble mean that they haven't been moved since the quake.  This means that there still could be bodies under where I was standing.  Bodies that may remain there for months to years, in their new tomb.

We went to a large market near City Soleil that morning, a massive enterprise of people, fruit, clothing, medicines, meat, you name it.  We learned that this market had been used as a place to buy and sell slaves back in the day.  Haiti was the first nation of freed slaves, due to a revolution in the early 1800's.  However, the 200 years following were hardly "free" for those of you up with your history of the nation.  This is still the case.  The damage of the quake is horrifying.  Rebuilding is slow.  However, the true tragedy is the continued slavery to foreign powers and the cultural nihlism this has embedded in the country.  The lack of political progress and hope.  The hope from this quake is that these deeper issues will be realized and the slow, long journey to true independence and peace may be found.

Something is always burning.

To Haiti

I'm a few hours away from my flight to Miami, where I will be joining a small group of pastors/peers/friends for a 10 day excursion to Haiti.  I was approached about this opportunity earlier in the summer.  Realizing the unique nature of this trip and the opportunity as a transition between BSM and seminary, I decided to join along.

Our goal is to embody the love of Christ in our interactions in Haiti.  We will be traveling with Haiti Outreach Ministries mostly around Port Au Prince.  We will be connecting with a few orphanages connected to the ministry, as well as doing some physical labor/earthquake rebuilding.

Like any international trip of this sort, there is always a danger in going into a foreign place such as Haiti with a vision to "save" the place.  Cultural barriers must be acknowledged and respected.  Therefore, we are approaching this trip with the understanding that we are going to learn stories, to experience the people, and to bring their stories back, speaking up for the situation in Haiti when we return home.

I'll do my best to keep my trip logged here, but due to the lack of internet access, this may not happen very readily.

Thank you all for your prayers and support!

transition

The dancer moved swiftly through the room as the singer belted out the chorus "God is already there..."

I was nearly in tears at one of my final services at Broad Street Ministry witnessing a moving expression of the Spirit.  Under normal circumstances, this would be merely a well done song and dance worship piece.  However, I knew the guy who was singing, I knew where he was coming from and what awaited him in the future.  That's a game changer.  In fact, telling the room of people gathered that "God is already there" is a pretty bold statement.  A lot of pain exists at BSM...
from people on the margins of society,
from people discriminated due to sexual orientation,
from people just struggling to make ends meet,
from people feeling all alone in the city,
from artists just vying to express themselves and make a living,
from recovering addicts,
from wealthy people figuring out what to do with their life.

I've always known this, but in my final weeks I've been hypersensitive to the weight of it all.  Particularly because I know this pain exists in every city, in every place.  And I know the religious landscape often runs away from this pain instead of taking it head on.  I know that MOST people in the situations mentioned above would never think of finding God "already there." Church is the last thing on their mind.  Community is the last thing on their mind.  I will be leaving BSM with a motivation to seek out this pain and move my future ministry setting to response.  I realize the importance of connecting to the community around, drawing in those who would never imagine being invited in to a "church" setting.  May we open our eyes.

I will be traveling to Haiti on Wednesday with a few pastor peer/mentors of mine.  We will be going to connect with organizations feeling pain.  We will be going to love, experience, and learn.  I'm pretty unaware of the weight of things I will experience, yet my motivation to be present in the midst of pain is obvious.  We aren't going to "save" Haiti.  We aren't going to "repair" or "work" for them.  We are going to be present, to be as little a footprint as possible.  We are going to learn stories and tell them; to be advocates for those in the midst of pain.  Besides...

God is already there.

Stay tuned for blog posts from Haiti.  Though I may not have internet access, I'll do my best to post what I jounal about during my time.  There will also be many pictures and stories to share.