Haiti final post: Mountains Beyond Mountains

A month ago I was finishing up 10 days in Haiti.  The immediate emotion that comes to mind is "overwhelmed." On our last day, the 4 of us were lounging on a beach in Cap Haitian, relaxing and reflecting on all that we had seen.  The nice beach was in huge contrast to the sad state of poverty and destruction that covers much of the country.  Simply thinking about the country was painful in itself.  I didn't even want to go into the city anymore, encountering people everywhere asking for money.  Most of this was due to the blitz-nature of our trip.  We never stayed in the same place twice in a row, constantly on the move, not pausing long enough to truly build deep relationships.

I've begun to discover what it means to serve a place like Haiti.  The statistics are overwhelming.  The situation is disheartening.  Hope seems to be fading.  However, within every organization we visited, we encountered a group of people who had dedicated their lives to change.  People who were motivated by the simple fact that God cares for these people.  God's preference is for the poor.  However, they were also motivated by the fact that their calling is to work towards a better Haiti.  They were all willing to make the necessary sacrifices and fight the necessary political battles.

"Mountains Beyond Mountains," is a book by Tracy Kidder, which follows the life of Dr. Paul Farmer.  Dr. Farmer is a doctor who has dedicated his life to eradicating infectious diseases around the world.  His quest began in Haiti, working in the mountains.  Although he travels around the world seeking out new locations to fight disease, he admits that he feels truly alive while serving patients one on one in the mountains of Haiti (295).  Like I witnessed in all those working for a better Haiti, the motivation is reflected in the title of the book, from a Haitian proverb, which basically states that beyond mountains, there are more mountains.  To me, this expresses the weight of the task and the calling ahead.

Discipleship, to follow Christ's call in this world, is a calling into a difficult world that asks you to take on the mountains.  Examining the plight of Haiti or any area of need is a call to action.  Kidder summed it up through reciting a Haitian proverb "Bondye konn bay, men li pa konn separe," or "God gives but doesn't share (79)." God's grace is abundant and free.  However, we are called to respond through giving, through sharing with places in need.

The airport in Port-Au-Prince was packed and lively when we arrived for our flight to Miami.  The long line out front was a unique mix of travelers.  However, what stood out, quite comically, were the church groups with matching t-shirts.  All of these shirts were, of course, brand new (you can bet poor Haitian kids loved seeing that), with fancy slogans on them about "saving Haiti," or "helping people," "loving God and others," etc..

I would say I'm not one to stereotype but I'd be lying.  Having gone on mission trips before, knowing the culture of many international trips, and through studying the message of these shirts, I had a good sense about what the general ethos of these groups was about: Come for a week to move some stones, build some houses, maybe tell people why they should believe in Jesus Christ, then pack up and fly back home with some souvenirs you bought from a gift shop.

This needs to stop.  The sad state of what "mission (hijacked term to begin with) trips" have become is a chance to show up and share some "goodness" with people in another country, then fly home with some sadness about the people, maybe say a prayer, then never engage the topic again.  There is a broad ranging lack of transformation in these trips.  There is a lack of understanding of the importance of building relationships and staying tuned to the larger implications of the trip and the country involved.

Christ was pretty radical in His interaction with the poor.  Going to meals with them, healing them, telling them they will inherit the kingdom of God.  These interactions are steeped in developed, transformative relationships, not in brief moments of giving.  So we too are called to encounter the poor places of this world.

Sacrifice a part of yourself, be transformed by the relationship, engage the larger systemic issues, and seek the next mountain to cross.  They are often right out your back door.  And you don't even need to buy a new t-shirt.

Photo by Cole Smothers

Haiti Day 9: The Silent Citadel

The thing about heat in the Caribbean is that it starts EARLY.  We'd wake up at 6am, and by the time we're dressed and ready to go, it's already sunny and sweltering.  It actually eases up as the day goes on.  Today, we got up early in the hopes to get to our site early.  La Citadelle was our target, one of the most famous landmarks in Haiti.

La Citadelle was built between 1805 and 1820 by the newly freed republic of Haiti in order to fortify the country from a possible attack from the French.  The thing is...they never attacked!  La Citadelle was basically useless for all these years.  We also didn't quite understand how building a fort so far away from water and the city would be preventative, but what do we know!  It took us about an hour to drive out to the site.  As we drew near, we came upon a small town with roads of cobblestone.  We bought tickets to go up to the Citadel, as well as to ruins of an Imperial Palace, along with a local guide.  Next we preceded to drive UP the cobblestone road, up the mountain, towards La Citadelle at the top.

We park near where we will walk the rest of the way up, only to be greeted by hordes of Haitians attempting to sell us their wares.  Being quite used to this by now, we push our way through them to begin our walk.  Along the way we begin to notice that a group of boys around our ages have decided to join us. They are pretty silent, however, we realize they've each chosen one of us to talk to, and single us out whenever they can.  The guy that talks to me speaks very good english and is being friendly.  Suspicious of his motives, I try to be as friendly as possible, while maintaining boundaries.  At some point the guy picks up on it and tells me that we're just talking and there is "no obligation" to give anything.  To be continued on that one...

Soon we see La Citadelle through the clearing.  Majestic and towering, it appears as if its scraping the sky.  We see the tracks of the aquaduct along the way up, where water was sent to the palace down below.  Once we arrive at the front gates, our tagalongs back off and we enter with our guide.  It appears as if we're the only ones in the VAST expanse of the place.  There is also little to no staff/security/anything, which leaves us the freedom to walk everywhere.












There are tons of cannons throughout the place, many set up facing windows.  We learned that most of these were stolen from imperial ships.  Beyond that, cannonballs were also littered throughout the place.


Once we emerge in the courtyard, we finally see a couple of school groups that have gathered there.  We continue upwards to the very top, only to be greeted by one of the most majestic views I have ever experienced in my travel.  Views that no picture can do justice.  I'm sure many of you can relate to that sentiment.  We felt like we could reach up and brush the layer of clouds above our heads.  We could see for miles into the valley, with the shadow of clouds upon the land.  We could see smoke rising from houses where charcoal was being made.  We could hear the faint sound of drums in the distance, most likely from voodoo ceremonies.  Needless to say, it was a gorgeous moment.

The fresh air and breeze at the top was extremely refreshing, particularly after the time we had spent in the smoke and dust filled city.  It was also strange to think of the beauty from so far away, knowing that things weren't so down below.  The peace we felt up there is momentary, a breath of fresh air.  However, no one can stay up here forever.  You must descend the mountain at some point.  Moses took Joshua upon the mountain to gaze upon the Holy Land.  Their moment of fresh air was also brief.  They both knew the trials that lied ahead.  The struggles, the pain, the death.

Eventually we walked back down, only to be greeted by our sojourning friends.  The one who had singled me out smiled and began talking to me again.  I continued my suspicious interaction.  Towards the bottom he began to tell me that while I was up there he was with his kid in the hospital and really needed some help, particularly in the form of money from me.  After being in this country for so long, after getting a read on this guy, and especially after being at BSM this year, I have discovered the truth that such statements, such experiences, are simply COMPLICATED.  Never an easy answer.  However, they always point to the system, the root.  This is where action must be taken.  This is why guilt can never rest on the rejection of these moments.  It's amazing for those who can rise above.  However...it's complicated.  In this particular situation, especially given that this was obviously a tourist trap, I turned him down and walked away from him fast, which seemed to do the trick.

As we drove back down the mountain in the Pathfinder, we had a moment where the brakes started to smoke!  Our driver stopped to let them cool as we dug into the remainder of our packed lunches (which had lasted us MANY meals over our time).  These consisted of every sort of combination of tortillas, bread, tuna, fresh avocados, fresh mangoes, oreos, nutter butters, and granola bars.

At the bottom, we walked around the Imperial Palace, which had largely been destroyed in a quake years ago.  It was spread out pretty far and we could faintly make out where things used to be.








Of particular interest was a large old tree of obvious importance to the house.  We were told this was the "tree of justice," a place where people were hanged.  An interesting comparison to the "tree of life." Both testaments to the power of nature, to hold life and death.  This palace in particular, was also a clear example of the triumph of nature, of eternity, of God.  The remains of this place were largely grown over.  A stream trickled down through the yard, into the city below.  A reminder that our most powerful structures can not stand up to the test of nature.



We finished our time there and preceded to ride onward to what would be our retreat house for a 24 hour period, Cormier Place, a local beach resort.  Supporting the local economy is never a bad thing!  We arrive and learn theres only one room left that 5 of us must squeeze into.  We take it!  The place, however, is strangely quiet.  We would learn that this is due to UN soldiers who have made this their temporary home while they work in the city.  Interesting.

We take this time, once again, to breathe, to soak in all that we've seen.  We take this time to rest, to figure out how we're going to tell our stories once we return home.  We feel like we've been in the country forever.  We also know we've got a lot to share upon our return.

Haiti Day 8: A long trek across the country

Woke up with the sunrise on the roof of Trinity House to the sound of roosters down below.  We once again hopped in our bus, surprised to see it was driven by our NASCAR driver friend!  As expected, we bolted at high speeds through the mountains.  High speed isn't so fun with tight turns and steep inclines!

Once back in Port-Au-Prince we had to make a quick restroom pit stop.  Unfortunately, often the only option in the city is to find a good spot on the street.  So that's what we did!  As 4 of us were doing our business on a wall, a man comes walking up behind us, obviously not Haitian (my guess is he's from Jersey :) ), and in good english starts ranting about how Jesus is in charge of the US and not that "a-hole" Obama, etc..  He was obviously a little out of it.  A very strange moment.

Finally we get to the airport in time to say farewell to Jarrett, Franklin, and Dan as they trek back home.  Clark, Berry, Cole, and myself head to the domestic terminal for our flight to Cap Haitien.  

The view from our tiny prop plane is gorgeous.  We see the miles of mountains below before finally emerging at the coastal city of Cap Haitien in the north.  It's a much smaller airport, and we don't have as much trouble this time around making our way out to catch our ride.  William will be our guide, a young recent college grad who arrives with our driver in a Pathfinder.  We find a way to all squeeze in the back as we make our way across town.

Cap Haitien is pretty gorgeous and runs at a much slower pace than Port-Au-Prince.  However, poverty is still obvious.  The city was also unaffected by the earthquake, however it looks similar, evidence to the power of poverty.  Part of our drive goes over a small river, where trash is piled up and houses are backed up against.  We stop and grab some grub before touring Meds and Food For Kids, the organization Clark's contact Jamie works with some.  Basically, they run a peanut processing plant, making delicious peanut butter in sealed packs that are distributed to malnourished kids.  It's a very intense process that employs Haitian workers and produces a lot.  

After dropping our stuff off at Jamie's place, we make our way across town to a cookout at a children's' home.  Along the way, we pick up Harold, a Haitian man living in the same compound as Jamie who works with an organization teaching farming.  Our drive takes us into the countryside, through forests of fruit trees and lots of open, flat space, something we hadn't seen much of yet.  The feel is completely different.  Eventually we arrive at the children's' home (I forget/cant find the name yet...working on it!).  As we enter the large compound, we see kids playing soccer and we are immediately offered hot dogs and snow cones.  Clark and Berry run off to play soccer while cole and I sit down to chat with some of the people sitting.  I meet the director (whose name I'm also searching for!), a young midwife nurse practitioner with incredible passion.  She spoke of her calling to this job after working in hospitals and seeing how kids are often left to die for one reason or another.  

We walk around the compound and begin to see how important this home believes it is for these kids to have a happy life.  There's a lot of room to run around, a playground, some animals and farming space, a clinic under construction, and lots of space for school and meeting.  We discover that the event for the cookout is celebration of being new to this site!  Berry and I join in on some basketball with the kids before we have to head out. 

Harold and his cook have prepared a wonderful meal for all of us back at the housing compound.  We eat delicious soup before calling an end to our long day.

I am beginning to feel very tired at this point in the trip.  Even though Cap Haitien is a little more laid back, the poverty is still real, the dust of the dirty roads are still real, the general mood is still real.  It's a lot to take in.  I begin to admire the energy and passion of those who have committed themselves to being present to so much pain.  Part of me had been needing some rest after my work at BSM this year and I had jumped into this trip and moved around every day.  This was also probably contributing to my tiredness.  However, I knew the next couple of days would leave much time for enjoyment, relaxation, and reflection.

Haiti Day 7: On down to Jacmel town

We pack up and say goodbye to the CODEP guesthouse before hopping in the back of another truck with all our stuff.  Once again, we've got great seats to view the countryside as we take off on the mountain roads.  We're heading south to Jacmel (see a map on an earlier post).  Along the way, we stop to see a final CODEP project, this one much further along than the others.  The process of reforestation in this particular area was extremely lush.  Under the tree cover, we also noticed several fish ponds, another CODEP project developed to help provide sustainability and income.  We also saw the homes of many of the Haitian CODEP employees.

Our crew then packed in the seats and back of a pickup truck to travel the final hour or so down to Jacmel (on the southern coast).  As we approach from the mountains, we witness a beautiful view of a town on the water.  It's a much smaller city than Port-Au-Prince and feels a lot more laid back.  I begin to notice that there is much more quake damage in this area than Port-Au-Prince, if not just more concentrated.

We pulled in at Trinity house, a partner of St. Josephs Home for Children, who we visited earlier.  As we pull up, kids are already playing soccer in the road outside.  They all come and greet us one by one, though it's a little obvious they were made to do so :).  Regardless, we feel very welcomed as we put all our stuff in the room we'll be crashing in, take a look around Trinity House, and then head back to our driver for a tour around Jacmel.

Clark is somewhat familiar with the city.  As we drive, he is looking outside for shops and streets worth visiting.  We settle on what looks like an artist alley.  It's pretty quiet and not a whole lot is open.  We visit with a French lady's studio before heading across the street to a hotel for a drink.  We then walk around the town.  I feel very strange.  The city is very quiet and we are continually followed by a few vendors trying to draw us into their stores.  We see quake damage and tent cities, much like the ones in Port-Au-Prince, all over the town.  It becomes obvious to me that the quake has DESTROYED the commerce of this town.  Once a bustling hub for artists and trade, now a city with a lot of tension as it tries to get along as the shell of what it once was.  We make our way to the beach front for another drink and some sugarcane.  It's nice to be able to gaze out over the water, a scene that rarely changes.

Upon returning to Trinity House, we immediately head back out for a nearby swimming hole.  The location is a cove nearby where a bunch of the kids are already swimming.  They love having us in there to throw them around, much like I used to.

We have dinner on our own back at the house, followed by some time to explore and learn a little bit.  The kids that live there are pretty much all ages, up to 21, which is when they graduate (although some that age are still around).  Some of the younger kids from St. Joseph's have also been relocated here as they work to rebuild the Port-Au-Prince site.  Trinity House also functions as a school for the neighborhood kids among many other things as detailed on their site.

That night, we would be graced with a performance by the infamous Resurrection Dance Theater, a group out of St. Joseph's that has toured ALL over the place throughout the years, including places near you in the US this Fall!  Drums carried the dancing as the dancers would come out of the side room to perform their numbers.  We were blown away by the performances: boys with incredible gifts bearing their all.  Each dance told a story of Haiti, from the slave revolt to the modern issues with poverty.  By far the most powerful moment for us was when one of the dancers came running out in a frantic, yet beautiful dance.  He was moving so fast you could hardly realize that he was missing an arm.  His dance carried the weight of his story with a joy of simply being who he is and expressing himself through dance.  The end of the performance featured time for each dancer to show off some moves before they finally got the entire crowd in on the action for a final dance number.

Immediately following the performance, we were led into a side room where all the boys were proudly displaying their artwork.  Through the help of big-time artists who come by to teach, the boys had some amazing pieces and were very adamant salesmen!  I walked around admiring and telling them I wasn't buying until I came across the youngest boy in the room, named Lulu, who stood silently in the corner.  Knowing he probably wasn't getting much business for his pen drawings, I bend over and ask him how much.  "13" he says.  Thinking he meant "goudes (Haitian currency about 40 to the dollar)" and knowing I only had US $1 bills with me, I feel confident in giving up a dollar to pay much more than was expected.  I smile, give him the money and take his drawing, what I see as the countryside post-quake.

As I tell Clark about my purchase he says, "you gave him $1?  I'm pretty sure when he said $13 he meant American dollars!" I was shocked.  Did I seriously just rip off a Haitian orphan?  With the help of interpretation via Clark, I go back to pay a more respectable price to the young kid.

That night, we all bring our beds up to the roof of Trinity House, which provides a gorgeous view of the ocean, mountains, and city down below.  We can hear commotion in tent cities near us.  There is a gentle breeze throughout the night.  A breeze that we can only hope brings some new hope and new life into this town so rocked by disaster.

Day 6: Reflections

That Monday after our CODEP hike, we'd stay at the guest house the rest of the day, to catch up on some rest.  I went out back to the beach with a few of the guys to swim and snorkel.  This was my first time snorkeling around coral.  I was blown away at the beauty down there.  It was a new world, a beauty that stands in contrast to the struggles of the country.  

Our group had a conversation that night about what we witnessed with CODEP, and the general NGO presence in Haiti.  From what we've encountered, these groups see it as their role to take care of the social ills of the country.  With the disarray of the government and disillusionment of the people, this is very understandable.  However, the struggles with this structure are many.  For one, there is no central organization, which leads to competition among these groups, attempting to deal with the issues their own way.  There is also the issue of establishing sustainability so that there is no constant dependency.  Some groups were tackling this better than others.  Regardless, the country is a long way from getting to this point.  The years of foreign influence have made this difficult as well.  So where does that leave us?  What can we do?

Theologically, this is the question of a public theology.  Is the role of the church to address the social ills of a country?  If so, is this done on its own power, or is there a role in speaking truth to those with the power to enact such change?  I'm of the firm belief that we are called to the latter.  Christ was a vocal advocate for those in need in the face of power.  The old testament tradition stands to this as well.  

However, its hard to conceptualize how to enact this in a country in such disarray as Haiti.  There is much to be done, and at the end of the day, being present with the people of the country and in relationship is often all that can be done.  This is the ministry all the groups we have witnessed stand to.  There is an immediacy to this ministry that is very important.  They stand up for immediate action instead of talk.  Something we could learn more from back home!  

Our ability to hope and speak up for these people is our calling as pastors and people of faith.  May we always strive to do so.

Pictures from the mountain hike

Pictures from our hike with CODEP (see previous post).  Many pictures courtesy of Franklin Golden and Cole Smothers.

The crew on our CODEP hike

Kids along the way

Homes

Farmer

The barren mountainside

Our path

The slow process of re-forestation

Berry and I from up high

Haiti days 5 & 6: Down the mountain

Leaving Port-Au-Prince can take a while.  For one, all the roads would make great settings for SUV commercials.  Traffic, dust, smog, and people selling stuff car window to window on the street make for quite a long trek.  Fortunately, our driver could have been a NASCAR driver as we would hit probably 90 miles an hour at the breakaways, horn blaring and people diving out of our way.

We left the city for the Leogane area, just south to southwest of Port-Au-Prince, on the edge of the mountains.  We would be working with CODEP, or Comprehensive Development Project, which is taking on a number of great initiatives in the mountains of Haiti, to help provide a self-sustainable living economy for the people that live there.  Clark had spent several months with this organization and was excited to see the progress they've made over the years.

Saturday night, we arrived at the CODEP guest house on the coast, a lovely place with a beach AND a washing machine (a very welcomed sight at this point). We learned a little about the project and ate a delicious pumpkin soup dinner before calling it a night.

The next morning began early as we packed for a night in the mountains and jumped in the back of the truck as it drove up the steep mountain slope.   Being on the back, we were able to take in the gorgeous views of the valleys down below.  Already, we felt as if we were in another world, coming from Port-Au-Prince.  The air was clear, there was hardly any traffic congestion, the quake damage wasn't so much visible.  However, we would soon learn what kind of damage the people of these mountains face as we gazed out at mountains once full of trees.

Our first stop was at a church service, a church where Clark had lived and helped teach.  The church was a partner with CODEP.  We were ushered to the front of the room, where around 50 or so Haitians were gathered.  Clark did his best to introduce our group in Kreyol, and we sat through the service, not understanding much beyond communion, offering, and the tunes of a few hymns.   We were a little surprised that service only lasted an hour.  Our previous experience with third-world churches, as well as comments by Clark led us to believe that we'd be in church for the long-haul that day.  We would later learn that BECAUSE they knew we would be there that Sunday, they prepared a SHORTER version for us Americans.  They would continue "their" service later on that afternoon.  Sure makes you feel silly!

After the service we joined the congregants for a coffee hour and some attempts at communication.  We also checked out the place Clark had stayed when he worked there, a house that had moved from two stories to one during the quake.  Seeing quake damage even in the sparsely populated mountains was very interesting.

Further up the mountain, we began our hike (the 7 of us, CODEP director John, and several "animators"-Haitian locals with responsibility over reforesting plots, funded by CODEP.  The hike featured gorgeous views of the landscape.  Soon we would see the process of re-foresting in its prime.  After a mile or so of crumbly, dry ground, we came up to a heavily forested area, one of the first CODEP projects.  The process in a nutshell: build ramps with grass to catch rainwater, when mulch gathers plant Eucalyptus trees to nutrify soil and provide tree cover, THEN fruit trees can be planted to provide sustainability and income.  The results were astonishing.  Simply looking at the difference between a barren and forested landscape was proof enough of the effectiveness of the project.  Further, we learned that the focus is on educating the residents of the countryside on these methods and encouraging them NOT to move to cities, but rather to sustain themselves where they are located.  Here's a map of the area we were in (pictures in the next post):

After around 5-6 miles of hiking, we arrived at a home of a CODEP partner deep in the mountains.  This would be where we'd crash that evening.  I'd done a home stay before - a very humbling experience, as the hosts usually insist you stay in their rooms while they cram in another room.  This was no different in that regard.  However, somehow we ended up staying at the neighborhood MOVIE THEATER.  In between two houses was a sheltered area where a tv and huge sound system was set up.  Around 20 Haitian kids were gathered, where they had paid money to watch a series of low budget action flicks at super high volumes.  Us, tired from our massive hike, were ready to crash, around 9pm.  What are you gonna do...tell the gracious hosts to shut up?  We did note the bitter irony of the fact that the local Haitians were all glued to a TV while the Americans were the ones hiking all day and going to bed early.

We finished our hike early the next day, coming back down the mountain for pickup.  Our ride back to the CODEP guesthouse took us through fields of corn crops and banana trees, lush lowlands.  Its hard to imagine a country so full of wonderful food exports suffering so much.  Potential is enormous, yet as we had seen, the years have not been good to the countryside.  Deforestation and poverty in the mountains sends people to the city, where the suffering is magnified.  

It runs down from the mountains like the rain.

Pictures from the first half

Some pictures courtesy of our fellow filmmaking travelers Franklin Golden and Cole Smothers (more on the way):

Common scene: busy market with crumbled buildings behind

More quake damage

The UN doing what they do best: sit there with guns

The crew (l-r): Clark, Me, Jarrett, Berry, Franklin, Dan, Cole (taking the picture)

Kids in City Soleil

Another common scene: several square miles of tents

Streets of Port-Au-Prince

Faces of Haiti

More faces

Day 4: Remembering

Great mountains surround the city of Port-Au-Prince.  At night, the lights of houses in the mountains look like tall skyscrapers from far away.  Like skyscrapers, the wealth ascends the heights.  The higher up the mountain you drive, the more expensive the land.  The wealth inequality is quite large in Haiti, and those with the money like to be secluded up high, a metaphor for how things play out in that country.

We journeyed into the mountains to visit a cultural immersion organization started by Carla, an American woman, and her husband called "N a Sonje (we will remember) Foundation."  Her, along with 4 Haitian boys about my age gave us a presentation on Haitian history.  They told a story in dramatic fashion about a peaceful Haiti pre-colonization and the evils brought upon it following occupation.  They spoke about slavery in the country and the revolt that led to the first successful freed slave republic in the early 1800's.  Finally they spoke of the lead-up to modern times, where continued foreign investment and occupation continues to dominate politics in the country.

The presentation was extremely guilt inducing, particularly for those of us in the position of power, coming from the tradition known for colonization.  After hearing the presentation, we struggled to find anything really helpful from the presentation.  The problem wasn't a matter of factuality.  The reality of colonization and occupation is a great tragedy to Haiti and continues to be so.  The need for people to acknowledge such things is also valuable, in order to keep perspective of the challenges the nation faces.  However, I realized this presentation lacked envisioning futures and possibilities.  If guilt is going to be the mechanism used to acknowledge history, it must be followed with envisioning a way forward, a way to work together for a new Haiti.  This is something that we ALL must work together on.  Realizing the problems we wrought upon the country and seek out new methods of communication, bringing the right voices into the conversation and seeking out what is best for the country instead of what WE think is best for the country.

We were impressed at the work Carla's foundation was doing in the community, helping children become educated, along with taking grasp of their history as a means to move forward.  She has obviously become a very beloved part of the community.

Carla also gave us her thoughts on post-earthquake Haiti, telling us how she believes the shock is finally wearing off and people are beginning to really feel the effects of the quake personally.  She spoke of higher tensions, pain, and problems in the city, magnified by the slow crawl of relief efforts.  In my short time, I strangely felt this tension.  For the most part, life was carrying on in the poverty stricken city of Port-Au-Prince.  However, it was obvious that the way forward has become harder than ever and the path forward is murky.  There were moments we did not feel welcomed as white Americans, which is understandable and not unusual.  Yet another reminder of the importance of envisioning possibility together.

May we remember as well.

Day 3: Wings

Our third day in Haiti took us to the site of St. Joseph's Home for Boys in Port-Au-Prince.  Many of you out there are familiar with their organization, or their dance troupe, the Resurrection Dance Theater, touring to a city near you this Fall!

For those of you who don't know about them, the home started in 1985 as a response to young boys stranded on the streets of Port-Au-Prince, or boys forced into brutal house servitude.  They have 20 something boys at the Port-Au-Prince location, and even more in Jacmel.  However, after the quake, this is what remains of the Port-Au-Prince house:

The several story building collapsed, killing a couple friends, but none of the kids.  One of the directors of the program, Bill Nathan, was on the roof of the building when it collapsed.  Here's what happened to him.  Now, he tours with the Resurrection Dance Theater, promoting St. Joseph's and telling his story.  We had a chance to hang out with him and hear his drumming skills.

Younger boys from St. Joseph's have been moved to the Jacmel "Trinity House," while the older boys and some graduates of the home are living at a rented house next door, carrying on the home and assisting in clearing the lot/rebuilding:

That day, we also got to visit "Wings of Hope," another house of St. Joseph's which cares primarily for disabled children.  They had around 39 kids (may be off a bit) at their site, all receiving fantastic medical care and attention.  They even had a fat ol' chocolate lab running around the house, giving the kids some extra love!  Given how Haiti often responds to people with disabilities, as second class citizens, it was so beautiful to see a place where they are cared and love for as the children of God that they are.  The wings have truly set them free.

On the way back from HOM that day, we stopped by a tent city location on what used to be a golf course.  We walked around on the higher elevated part and looked down on the vast expanse of tents down below.  This was one of the more shocking parts of post-quake Haiti, seeing every possible public space in the cities taken up by tents.  Even statues and historical landmarks are often covered up (like the statue to the left) because people need space to live.  At the rate rebuilding is going in the cities (VERY slowly), people could be in these tents for YEARS.  Just imagine how difficult this must be, especially over time as more and more people move into the city and all must readjust.

That evening, our crew reflected on the ministries we've witnessed thus far, comparing their approaches. HOM has a larger scale view: building churches and houses for as many people as possible, to raise the quality of living for a part of the city.  St. Joseph's view is smaller, aimed at transforming individuals who can grow up to be agents of change in the city.  Both have elements that could be challenging to deal with, issues of sustainability, funding, stewardship, etc.  However, among some critiques we drummed up that night, we kept coming back to the admiration of enactment.  Some amazing people are committed to working in Haiti to shape areas of great poverty and despair.  One of our group members reminded us of a phrase he heard before in regards to mission organizations that may be difficult to deal with: "this is what it means to be in relationship."

The work these groups are doing in Haiti should call us to action.  They should invite us into relationship with them and with organizations in our own communities.  They are a reminder that the gospel of Christ is an ACTIVE gospel, that is boldly serving the world beyond its own means.  This work is never perfect, in fact its often messy.  However, it's rooted in love.

May these wings set us free.