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.

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.