Haiti Update 23 March 10

Monday, March 15th, Caleb and I were able to coordinate a joint trip to the YWAM base in St. Marc by phone. Our goal was to meet the new food distribution director, Ben, on the following day and through him to connect with the World Food Program director for the Northeast region of Haiti. Tom Mehrer, the former food distribution director for YWAM there, had enabled the successful consignment of our containers (no small task), connected Hands and Feet with secure storage for food containers in the YWAM compound and had made many introductions for us into the YWAM teams that served the local area. Tom had left his awesome legacy in this two month volunteer post to go back home in the US on the 12th. It was through through Tom's generous help that we had met the temporary housing director, Mike Gervasi, who committed to the building of 10 Hoop Houses for the Wesleyan Church ministries in which we cooperatively have served.

On morning of the 16th I rode up from Port au Prince with Judean driving the two ton Mitsubishi Canter and a pile of supplies to Kwalili where the boat was waiting with JD, Chris and Caleb. It was becoming hotter and hotter each day, and this day was clear skies which intensified the heat. About ten miles from Kwalili, with the worst of the mad max traffic behind us, the left front tire rapidly and audibly lost inflation. No warning, no kidding. And this tire was brand new, installed the day prior. We rolled to a stop at the gas station without ruining the tire, got out and watched it die completely. Thank you Lord. It took a six foot long breaker bar with me jumping up and down on it to break the nuts loose. By then it was about 10:30 and I was soaked in sweat. Judean somehow magically summoned a mechanic by phone who zipped in on his Houjen motorcycle and helped us finish jacking the truck up.

They both rode off south toward the nearest town with arms, legs and round rubber monument poking out at strange angles and I plopped down in the shade of an abandoned tractor trailer bed. I had no idea why the Lord chose to do this but it was becoming so normal that I figured He'd let me know shortly. You know, this is exactly the kind of preparatory moment the Lord has used so many times right before something important happened around us, but it still takes a few minutes of puzzlement for me to get along with the program. After calling Caleb to let him know I'd be late, I pulled out just enough Gourdes to buy an expensive strange juice drink inside the darkened 'store' at the station.

In about ten minutes a beat up Uhaul cube van squeaked to a stop at the gas station and a middle aged woman with a white shirt and jean skirt opened the hood. Her driver concernedly gazed and poked around some at the engine but was pretty clearly stalling for help, pretending to know something of automechanic work. OK Lord, I guess this is what you have in mind, right?

After asking if she wanted help, and finding out there wasn't anything really wrong other than a sqeaky brake drum, Susan Hill told me about her five years of service on La Gonave, in Picme on the south coast of the island. She knew of the Wesleyan mission and Pastor Dan, but had been pretty remote for many years. Incredible story really, since she had gone there not knowing how she could help but then investing so much of herself to teaching and training the locals in life applications to living out their faith in Jesus. She had been there in Picme when the Navy landed and brought MREs and lumber for the village around the end of January. About 20 homes had been demolished or damaged by the small tsunami after the earthquake, and the materials were for reconstruction of those dwellings.

I was not prepared for what she said next. The lumber was transported to an abandoned block home for storage while the food was offloaded. After agreeing to distribute the MRE's (the Navy couldn't provide secure distribution and needed to have a person accept the role), Susan had pastors and civic leaders from the poorest homes and hamlets nearby come and get boxes of MRE's while she handed out food to the poorest locals. Once the Navy presence had gone, the crowd surrounding the MRE's turned on Susan for not giving equally to all families, and for giving to people not from the village itself. Women she had been teaching small business skills to the day prior now pushed her to the ground and stood on her back, warning her to leave and never come back.

She was physically fine, but shaken by the whole turn of events. As she told me the story she didn't get choked up but was clearly just beginning to come to grips with what actually happened. She actually seemed as frustrated with what happened to the building materials - most of it was pilfered over the next few days by people within the village. Not one home, to her knowledge, was rebuilt with the materials and the injustice of that really bothered her.

Still kind of detached from the whole thing, she told me a few interesting things she's figured out over the years in Haiti. I guess she wanted to make sure I understood what we were getting into (although she acknowledged that our food distribution 'rules' were certainly going to keep us from experiencing the same problems she had).

Perhaps the most interesting point was a study she claimed to have read about community involvement following disasters: Following Mississippi flooding, communities in the North Central US typically saw 92% of all relief volunteers coming from their own communities. She said it was similar in countries such as Turkey. In Haiti following the floods in Leogane a couple of years ago (the town closest to the epicenter, ironically), about 4% of volunteer relief came from within Haiti. That is perhaps explainable but kind of eye opening. Earlier I made a mental note that in Port au Prince these days about every fifth vehicle has some kind of foreign aid, UN, MINUSTAH, International ministry, etc. sticker on it. This is a country almost smothered in hands extended to help.

We encouraged each other as we parted company. She was headed across the mountains to Cap Haitien and another ministry she's been involved with in the past. Kind of starting over for her I guess. It's not a really 'safe' journey, but she's got nothing anybody wants to steal. Just faith and hope.

Judean showed up a half hour later on the same bike with the same mechanic. I have no idea how they balanced that humongous tire for the trip but I was glad we didn't have to wait for them to walk back with it. It was about noon when the last lug nut was tightened after the jack was pulled, and yes we were all drenched in sweat.