Everyone Needs Haiti

A year ago I was invited by my friends Larry & Pat Butterton to join them on this year’s trip to Haiti. Instantly I thought how cool an opportunity, so I said I would pray about – that’s pastor speak for I’ll take it under consideration… divinely of course. Weeks and then months began to pass. I kept thinking this is something God wants me to do, but I never flipped the switch. I was also thinking of by daughter, less than a year old, and my wife, whose own profession is it own full-time work. I thought my work with Acts, what would happen if I’m away. Folks from Acts were always thrilled with me going. Some though would cite how they never could go to Haiti.

Haiti is a country with little centralized government. CNN in the last year has provided headline after headline concerning kidnappings. The US State Department continually renews traveling warnings. Still I felt called to go to Haiti. Why? This was to be a medial mission team. I am a pastor whose medical training is only slightly above first aid, please no medical questions. The pastoral component would be small. How and why, me go to Haiti?

You can read more detail about my days in Haiti on my blog. Here I want to share why I needed Haiti, why I went, why I said riding 7 ½ hours to go 70 miles is cool even when it is not on the brochure. I needed Haiti to remind me that Jesus uses people to simply be present among his people. I had little medical ability – OK NONE! There was no preaching going on. My Kreyol (Haiti’s official tongue) was limited to hospitable phrases to provide directional guidance around the pharmacy and vision clinic. Then there was the ability to communicate in different ways. Smiles. Laughter. Nonverbal compassion. Dignity. A soccer ball. Funny noises. What I could not say in words I could express in presence.

Haiti reminded me that I can do great things when I allow Jesus to flow through me. I can be a God bearer without opening my mouth. I can connect with God’s children whenever I make myself available to him. I made myself available by making the trip, forgetting my normal roles as pastor and leader, and going with the flow of the Holy Spirit. I connected by meeting Haiti in Haiti’s context – no special privileges because I was there. I beared God by sharing the love I was given to another for one of them might have been Jesus.

I needed Haiti to remind me of how simple it is to live for Christ.

Got My T-Shirt

Larry just brought over my t-shirt! Dark blue with orange lettering - how appropriate for Z'Orange!

Front - "Everybody has their own Haiti" - Elade

Back - "Z'Orange 07 - The Dream is Becoming a Reality"

Open for Business

Thursday, Day 4, the clinic was open for business. The community had gathered early in the morning at the old clinic to receive tickets for the day. Bro' Larry had said it was crazy out there ... a taste of fun I would see on Friday. I was stationed at the Pharmacy (Rx) to assist in anyway. Sally asked me to me the host/bouncer/greeter. I sort of worked as all three doing my best to help folks find their way. That morning we actually had split the Rx space with Kim's vision clinic. Nothing like a last minute change, but it sure made a big difference.

The morning was sort of rough. Hey it was the first day. I was getting a crash in Kreyol! Chitala - sit here, se vou ple - please, vini - not vene - come (I kept mixing up the creole and my evenly as poor Spanish!). You could tell the Haitians thought it was funny. Some just looked at me funny when I would ask them to come. Others laughed. After lunch I worked on it and by the end of the day was much stronger in the words I used.

Lunch became a quick debrief on how to make things better. Pharmacy patients and vision patients were both backing up. People were coming to the pharmacy and then see the vision care side and suddenly go blind. Sorry for the exaggeration; however it was uncanny. Then again consider the context. A community that was simply grateful that a doctor had come to care for them wanted to take every opportunity to see every doctor. Funny how we Americans with access to every medical speciality known - specifically if you live in the Triangle with Duke and UNC in your backyard - somewhat reluctantly go to the doctor.

Sounds sort of like those who truly yearn for the healing touch of Christ. Yeah, those who truly know their hurt search for healing. Maybe that is why the Gospel spreads like WILDFIRE among those who hurt, and in places where 'everything is fine' we don't seem to need the heavenly medicine.

Our quick change discussion at lunch became reality after. Patients still lined up waiting to see Dr. Kim, but it became managable. Later in the evening we would tweak the system one more time.

Day 3: Setup

On Wednesday morning I awoke afreshed about 6 AM. Unlike my tent mates this was the first rooster crow I had haerd through the night. Unlike the hotel in Jacmel there was no early morning shower, no hot food awaiitng. Welcome to Z'Orange! I stumbled around getting dressed and exited the comforts for the morning air of the mountain. My tent faced south allowing me to see the sunrise creep along the horizon.

Breakfast was simple. Bread with Peanut Butter and Jelly (this became a standard), Haitian coffee (which I still care not for coffee), and fruit. We slowly began our day as school was in session up the hill. Later in the morning we ascneded the hill for a special presentation by the kids. They sang a couple of precious songs welcoming us and thanking us for all we've done. I could tell how precious this was by the expressions of our vets. Some of them were gushing with glee as they watched former patients sing for joy. When I get the words I'll try to post. The school dismissed at lunch in order that we could begin to set up the clinic. We started, and ended, in the Pharmacy counting meds, sorting meds, and soring meds. Our two Pharmacists - Mike and Sally - kept everything moving as we sorted our supplies for the clinic. This was Sally's second trip. She was elated of the new space - a room that was 20 x 20 or more. The former Pharmacy was maybe 5 x 8 from what I could tell and meds were seperated on the ground. This year two shelving units made the trip from the States along our aero-carriage. O how simple things give us joy!

we counted. we separated. we bagged and tagged meds throughout the afternoon. The clinic rooms were set fairly quikly, but we kept working until the light went down (no electricity, when the sun goes down, the light goes off) :)

We closed down shop and descended the hill for dinner. Tonight would be my first taste of goat. Something uncommon back home; yet, a Haitian delicacy. Was this little goat one we heard throughout the night??? Not too bad I must say. Our night concluded with words of Encouragement from Elade. With anticipation for the opening day of clinic I went to bed.

Haiti Journal Part Two

Day two took us from Jacmel through the mountains onward to Z’Orange. The mountain road to Beinet was extremely primitive; little did I understand this was “good” road. Along the road we came upon a large market. There was food, clothing, food, furniture, animals, and people – many people. This was one of the larger markets in this part of the country. People might travel two to three mountains over for this “superstore.” The large number of people also presented a hazard to our travel. Our bus clipped the corner of a push cart collapsing it onto a man and elderly woman. It was the mid-part of the bus that made the contact and since I was at the rear of the bus I was able to see the harm, able to see the pain and chaos. We quickly yelled for the bus to stop where our Haitian hosts made amends. This was our first encounter with hostility. The crowd began to beat on the bus with anger, and surely the Creole being spoken was not the pleasantries desired by the local chamber of commerce.

We continued down the mountain to the coastal town of Beinet. Here we stopped for a respite. I got a chance to walk around with Larry and Pat into the local church in the center of the village. It was Catholic I presumed only knowing by the crucifix on the wall. The structure was large even by American comparisons; yet, more dilapidated than any Catholic Church I had ever scene. It also was very simple unblemished by extravagant ornamentation. Only two stain glass windows in the church, a statue of Jesus holding a child (bring to me the little children), and a statue of Mary with a child (presumably Jesus) off to the side. The three of us reverently walked through the space sitting on the front bench long enough to pray.

We exited the church thanking the man who let us in. Yes, the church was locked. A local man stood out the fence with the key. He graciously let us come and go. We returned to our bus via the side streets of Beinet. We passed school age children at play, old men chatting on the curb, and young adults going to and fro. The main road was almost like a boardwalk lined with business and the people to keep them in business. We decided behind the strip for the rocky beach strand partially polluted with trash and waste. Beyond the cusp of the polluted strand was a gorgeous beach with turquoise waters and rock and shells unlike the scallops and conchs of the Atlantic. These were gem like with vibrant color and patterns picked with smoothed ocean stones.

We departed Beinet for the river that would lead to Z’Orange. The addition of a three person team made the cramped bus more cramped. I took lounge on top of the luggage – part seat, part bed. Liz warned me that past participants had gotten nauseated riding as I was, so I just took two Dramamine. The road that led to the river got rockier by the mile. I simply dozed off and it did not matter. I did wake up in the river bed. How amazing it was to ride in the River. January is part of the dry season in Haiti allowing the river to be low enough for passage.

As we approached the final hill to Z’Orange the excitement began to brew. Our vet team was ready to disembark the bus and hike; yet, to their surprise the bus began the climb. We made it halfway up before we had hiccup. The rear right tires went off into the right rut of the road. In a very uncertain moment the bus went quickly onto its right side against the ground-wall of the road. We were upright, but not by much. We disembarked through the windows only to see the grave possibility of what could have been. Liz and I began the ascent watching the bus try to dislodge from the rut. Liz began to pray alound. She prayed that the Lord get this bus out of the rut and in a very Spirit-filled moment I saw the bus freed from the rut. God is good, all the time.

The first walk was quite a hike. I was very glad that the bus was able to carry all the stuff up the hill. My body was not ready for this kind of haul. Upon our ascent to our site we saw the newly built Hope for Haiti Foundation supported school a simple one floor half, square, cinder-block facility. Its simpleness was counteracted by the overwhelming joy of our vets. This was a new realization of the hope that brought them here years before. We unloaded our gear and descended behind the school to GROUND ZERO, known to some as Casa de Obed (family land of Elade’s) on the knoll of the mountain where HFHF had made relationships that saw us with welcome excitement. Quickly we set tent city where we would live for six days among God’s creation in Z’Orange.

Haiti Journal Part One

Sunset. I look across the evening mountains of Z’Orange watching the sun go down on two days of travel and a full day of preparations knowing that it will rise tomorrow for clinic. I look upon the stars of Z’Orange watching angels look upon us as God rains down his amazing grace. I look out over the mountains knowing people will come with pain and burden s in hope of healing touch. I look around and I wait.

My journey to Z’Orange took me away from the comfort of the homeland to a new mountainous wilderness, home to some of the least of these. The first step took me from home to the familiar port of Miami, only this time I would make the connection to Port-au-Prince. Boarding for PAP took me into a childlike manner. I was getting on a BIG PLANE – a 757 I believe. A MULTIONATIONAL CREW sharing instructions in multiple languages. A WHOLE NEW WORLD.

Arriving in PAP was an adventure. Not too many places you walk off the plane onto the tarmac. I made my first stop at immigration with very little exchange of words. Our team gathered while Haitians came to help. Returning team members began to reunite with locals, while I stood somewhere between lost and cautious. Beyond the reunioning persons were other that I was warned not to engage. We began to prepare for the move out. Somehow I was the second one with gear and take by our handlers to the exit. We were given instructions to stay together and we would exit together as not to stay outside too long – too dangerous. Pouchon (THE MAN!) took me away making customs a breeze; yet, left to follow instructions of airport personnel whom I did not understand. There was not enough time for fear, but it came. Among this wave of chaos I saw Cherlynne, Elade’s wife and my new friend, at the door. I rushed to her side only to be whisked out beyond the walls of the airport to a wild scene with unfamiliar people, standing all around. Men started coming towards me fighting each other verbally in words I still did not understand seemingly to protect me, and others to take me.

In the midst of all this… a man, Haitian in every way came and asked in beautiful English “Are you with Hope for Haiti.” CONNECT! I felt safe. I found the voice of comfort. His name – Jean Felix Cyriaque, a doctor now living in Fayetteville – we were practically neighbors. He was one of the native Haitians who came early in order to welcome us. The chais continued as he moved Cherlynne and I to the curb – face-to-face with the unknown. With Jean Felix there I was a-O.K., but he left to go find the rest of the team. Now I got a little anxious, but it was not too until the Haitian military came to socialize with some of the men standing next to me. The lead officer had the look of Samuel L Jackson. Finally our team arrived and we hurried on the bus.

The returning team praised the ease and quickness of the trip to this point. We began the trip through PAP seeing streets full of people walking presumably to their places of rest. People packed the streets impeding traffic. Houses became smaller and smaller looking more and more like shanty lands – places where only reality let people live, where no none should have to live.

My view from the bus was extremely limited possibly shading me from the full image of depair. My comrades from past adventures let me now how much better, how much cleaner a year makes. Last year in the midst of elections they say guards lined streets where trash did not take space. A new reality was the presence of United Nations forces driving in their armored vehicles on patrol. Did they really plan on bringing peace in such strong armor? Even with the limited view I saw the poverty; I saw the lack of central authourty; I saw the lack of presence of love. Who really cares for the people? I began to clearly see why our stay in PAP would be as brief as possible.

The trip to Jacmel took us off road. Roads in Haiti are unpaved, rocky cuts, dust covered and narrow. A fifty-mile trip took us three hours plus driving; yet, most was uphill. In fact we stopped at the top of the mountain for a “Haitian rest stop.” You could almost touch the stars in the clear skies.

Our journey that evening took us to Jacmel – a coastal town that was far more civilized than PAP. People hurried around the town circle to socialize and market. You could easily see the civility, systemic authority. Our accommodations were at a waterfront hotel that is considered a Haitian resort. Every room looked out over a peaceful fishing harbor with a rocky coastline.

It was the first night for me far away from home, in a foreign country, in a very different type of place. I was extremely tired, which probably helped me sleep and overcome any anxiety. Of course, the team had already felt the presence of God on the trip, so why have any worries.

My Haiti Photos

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