NEW BLOG

Greetings friends! 

I'm writing to let you all know that I will be getting back into the habit of blogging, and with a NEW blog site.  Don't worry, all of my old posts will hopefully transfer over, and I don't plan on deleting this one.

Why am I doing this?  Well, for one, I am no longer the "community trailblazer" at Broad Street Ministry.  They continue to carry on with their usual awesomeness.  Another reason is simply that things get stale after a while.  It's always good to keep things new and fresh. Even the Psalmist would continue to speak of singing a "new song" to the Lord. 

I hope to post general reflections on my experience, along with prayers, songs, movie clips, and anything else I find invigorating. 

The name of my new blog is LIVE INTO HOPE.  The address is simple enough: www.liveintohope.blogspot.com.  For me, I want my name to no longer be about something I am/was doing at a place, but to be a narrative of what WE, as humanity can do together.  This is the task of the body of Christ, to live out the message Christ proclaimed.  This is how we are called to live.

"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life" -Mumford and Sons

we will remember

Ten days is not a very long time to really get to know a place.  Regardless, this is the time I spent in Haiti almost a year ago.  My journal from the trip is recounted in this blog. 

Our friend, travel companion, and resident documentary film making student was with us on that trip to help us recount all that we saw and heard.  Remembering is important, if nothing else than for recounting the story of a place.

I invite you to check out the video Cole made so that you can see and hear from Haitians we encountered face-to-face.  Remembering faces, stories, places, history, is how we can work to make a difference.

Check out the video on vimeo HERE

been a while!

I have no excuses for my writing hiatus.  School kept me busy, sure, but I'm now realizing how much I've needed this venue for an outlet.  So expect more posts in the near future!

Brief update for those that follow me here: I graduated from Union Presbyterian Seminary with an M.Div. in late May and am currently am in the process of seeking a "call," aka a church to serve.  Still living in Richmond and taking life as it comes!

Stay tuned!

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.