Even though neither food distribution nor disaster relief of any kind were part of our perceived “mission” and certainly not allocated in our ministry budgets, the event of January 12 created both challenges and opportunities that could not be ignored. Because of our significant history and presence on LaGonave, in Petit Goave and other areas we quickly realized that unless we and other partner organizations were willing to advocate for our communities any serious needs would be overlooked by the “drive by” approach of some multi-national or government agencies.
One very natural extension of our existing ministries was the decision to open an emergency field hospital in the city of Petit Goave. Because we have been doing medical ministry in Haiti for more than fifty years we were uniquely positioned in the chaotic first days after the earthquake to put medical people on the ground in some of the most devastated area and supply them long before most other organizations were able to mobilize. At the same time our existing hospital on LaGonave was inundated with earthquake victims brought to the island by family members. To support the medical enterprise, stretched to its limits, mission personnel both national and expatriate worked impossible hours for extended periods of time.
In spite of obvious need for a relief supply/ food distribution the truth was that we lacked the funds to purchase necessary supplies, the logistical experience to pull off such an endeavor, and the manpower to organize and supervise orderly distribution. It was at this point that God sent to us a team of individuals from the New York New England District of the Wesleyan church with whom our first “conversations” were held and from which developed a much larger network, including Calvary Chapel in Spokane Washington and several intersections with YWAM both here and in the states. You can read about this part of the story at: Churches Link Arms for Supply Shipment. Tonight I am looking backwards with gratitude and forward with open anticipation.
Looking Back
Even as we first began to recognize our dilemma, our incapacity to do relief distribution in the face of incredible need, God was already at work putting people and pieces together to supply the need. I will always be incredibly grateful to Chris Thompson and his son Caleb as the initial spark plugs, the New York New England District Superintendent Paul James made a courageous call to move quickly when all the details were far from clear. This great adventure would not have been possible without the physical presence of volunteers who took point to raise funds, purchase supplies, arrange shipping and then travel to Haiti to assist in distribution. Caleb Thompson and Andy Pratt arrived with the first load. Josh Nerren who came all the way from Spokane provided valuable support shortly after. Pete Thompson followed offering invaluable expertise as the distribution began to get a little more complicated. Terry Snow and others of YWAM Haiti contributed their experience and logistical support. Wesleyan Missionary/WISH directors Butch Alexander and his crew spent hundreds of hours transporting relief supplies over land and sea. Haitian businessman Chris Nezivar provided a great deal of transportation support, much of it paid for out of his own pocket. Haitian agricultural and project expert Paul Donn Jean crafted a masterful distribution plan for the civic and community organizations and Pastor Keno Osne spearheaded the church network . Missionaries Tricia Alexander, Justine Iskat, Matthew Tegen and Diane Busch provided housing, meals and logistical support to the distribution team while also entertaining one medical/surgical team after another. Our most recent food distribution volunteers were Chris and JD from YWAM Montana.
In our distribution to this point we have made strategic use of church networks but we have also intentionally created a network using civic and community organizations. To this point our distributions have been peaceful, orderly and very positively viewed by the communities. Unaccustomed to equitable distribution one lady in a remote mountain village observing the truck of food climbing the mountain turned to one of the Haitian distribution personnel and expressed her amazement and appreciation with the words of a Haitian proverb “water has finally run uphill.” One local official in the town of Point-a-Roquet stated that this was the first time that he was aware that a distribution through Anse-a-Galets ever arrived in this town on the other side of the island. All this was possible by the gracious provision and the obedient response of an amazing network of people and organizations.
Looking Forward
While it is difficult to project exactly what is going to take place in this still chaotic situation, two facts are clear. The need for food, hygiene products, clean water and shelter material are still critical in the earthquake devastated areas and in those places where large refugee populations are still being maintained. Distribution is becoming more complicated and may require some creative strategy.
• There are still remote areas that have not been reached with relief supplies.
• The mandated reopening of schools on April 5 creates another potential distribution option, ie feeding school children, wet or dry feeding.
• In certain areas where devastation was near total, Petit Goave, Leogane, Carrefour Feuille the dependence of the population on relief food is still very high and will remain for an extended period of time.
• In communities supporting refugee populations the need for relief food support will remain high at least until rain begins to fall on gardens (end of May).
I’m confident that God will continue providing resources, both material and human, to meet the still very present needs in of those communities where God has given us influence and responsibilities.
Where is our help going?
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Update from Dan Irvine Part 1
Given all the problems ….why do we do food distribution? Part 1 Lessons to be learned!
Distribution of relief supplies has always been an interesting prospect in Haiti. Because of Haiti’s history of political turmoil, extreme poverty and frequent natural disasters, distributions of vital supplies have been done on a major scale a number of times in the last 25 years. Some interesting lessons can be garnered from our experiences.
Food distribution is always fraught with logistical difficulties. Staples like rice and beans are bulky and heavy. To have any measurable impact these items need to be moved in significant quantities involving large vehicles and a lot of manual labor. Further complicating the logistical process is the need for tight security throughout the whole operation from plane or ship to the distribution center. Distribution done without proper planning or understanding of the cultural issues came be very dangerous to both the donors and intended recipients.
Media reports of mob violence at distribution centers tend to create the impression that the Haitian people are by nature unruly or greedy. The truth is much more complicated. Everyday vehicles loaded with food stuffs move without security of any kind, unmolested, through the streets of Port-au-Prince and other cities. Bags and boxes of the very goods that have created mob scenes at distribution points are carried openly without incident. But let any cargo marked with symbols that identify it as relief supplies appear on the street without appropriate precautions and the “fun” begins.
So what is the problem with relief supply distribution?! Fundamentally, the issue is one of ownership—to whom does this stuff belong? The amazing truth is that in a country that has so little sense of anyone being in charge, the Haitian people have a deep respect for personal property rights. Venders spread their wares on city sidewalks without fear, retail businesses of every sort are doing a booming business, money changers ply their trade in the streets with big handfuls of cash. Rarely is there violence, or strong armed robbery. Like any society there is a criminal element here but not seemingly out of proportion to the population.
Relief supplies are properly understood to be the gifts of other nations or of multi-national organizations to relieve the suffering of the people in crisis and as such are seen as belonging to the people. When the distribution is carried out properly, (when the food supplies are sufficient for the local population and the distribution plan well-crafted for the local situation) people will stand quietly for hours patiently waiting for their turn. Generally speaking, on those occasions where there has been a violent incident related to distribution it is because people waiting for their share perceive that the food will run out before they get their turn or that something is unfair about the manner of distribution (stealing food, partiality, politics).
Another observation important to this discussion is that the longer that relief operations go on the greater likelihood of problem developing. An entitlement mentality will almost inevitably develop within the affected population who then can rationalize aggressive or even violent behavior. As well, that smaller group which has devious intent in the first place may become bolder and better organized.
In Haiti, one immediate effect of the earthquake was the disruption of the normal food supply chain. A significant number of food staples eaten in Haiti are imported, the vast majority of them passing through the capital city of Port-au-Prince. When Port was largely destroyed these food shipments were interrupted. As a result the price of food staples more than doubled. North American type groceries were almost impossible to find for weeks afterwards as the majority of the supermarket retail stores were destroyed in the capital.
As most of you know who have followed the progression of events here, beginning immediately after the earthquake, LaGonave was inundated with wave after wave of refugees, mostly friends and family members of LaGonave families but a number of people who were simply looking for a better place than their shattered neighborhoods in the capital.
US and UN troops did helicopter fly- overs, apparently looking for the tent cities that were popping up all over P-au-P and other devastated areas. Finding none, some agencies declared that LaGonave had no refugees. The fact was that the refugees of LaGonave were absorbed into the community, not living under tarps or tents as in other parts of the country.
As a rule, LaGonave is always on the hungry side in February and March, even in the best of times, as the dry season ends the food crops have long since been harvested, sold and eaten. Fruit trees and banana plants slow their production waiting for the rains.
The additional refugee population, the increased food prices, and the seasonal factors soon made hunger the everyday companion of many of the citizens of LaGonave, as existing food stocks dwindled. As the people began to cry out more and more for food relief, we realized that the mission had to be involved in finding and delivering food stuff to this part of the country in spite of the obstacles. Without food distribution starvation would have inevitably followed quickly on the heels of the devastation.
- Dan Irvine
Distribution of relief supplies has always been an interesting prospect in Haiti. Because of Haiti’s history of political turmoil, extreme poverty and frequent natural disasters, distributions of vital supplies have been done on a major scale a number of times in the last 25 years. Some interesting lessons can be garnered from our experiences.
Food distribution is always fraught with logistical difficulties. Staples like rice and beans are bulky and heavy. To have any measurable impact these items need to be moved in significant quantities involving large vehicles and a lot of manual labor. Further complicating the logistical process is the need for tight security throughout the whole operation from plane or ship to the distribution center. Distribution done without proper planning or understanding of the cultural issues came be very dangerous to both the donors and intended recipients.
Media reports of mob violence at distribution centers tend to create the impression that the Haitian people are by nature unruly or greedy. The truth is much more complicated. Everyday vehicles loaded with food stuffs move without security of any kind, unmolested, through the streets of Port-au-Prince and other cities. Bags and boxes of the very goods that have created mob scenes at distribution points are carried openly without incident. But let any cargo marked with symbols that identify it as relief supplies appear on the street without appropriate precautions and the “fun” begins.
So what is the problem with relief supply distribution?! Fundamentally, the issue is one of ownership—to whom does this stuff belong? The amazing truth is that in a country that has so little sense of anyone being in charge, the Haitian people have a deep respect for personal property rights. Venders spread their wares on city sidewalks without fear, retail businesses of every sort are doing a booming business, money changers ply their trade in the streets with big handfuls of cash. Rarely is there violence, or strong armed robbery. Like any society there is a criminal element here but not seemingly out of proportion to the population.
Relief supplies are properly understood to be the gifts of other nations or of multi-national organizations to relieve the suffering of the people in crisis and as such are seen as belonging to the people. When the distribution is carried out properly, (when the food supplies are sufficient for the local population and the distribution plan well-crafted for the local situation) people will stand quietly for hours patiently waiting for their turn. Generally speaking, on those occasions where there has been a violent incident related to distribution it is because people waiting for their share perceive that the food will run out before they get their turn or that something is unfair about the manner of distribution (stealing food, partiality, politics).
Another observation important to this discussion is that the longer that relief operations go on the greater likelihood of problem developing. An entitlement mentality will almost inevitably develop within the affected population who then can rationalize aggressive or even violent behavior. As well, that smaller group which has devious intent in the first place may become bolder and better organized.
In Haiti, one immediate effect of the earthquake was the disruption of the normal food supply chain. A significant number of food staples eaten in Haiti are imported, the vast majority of them passing through the capital city of Port-au-Prince. When Port was largely destroyed these food shipments were interrupted. As a result the price of food staples more than doubled. North American type groceries were almost impossible to find for weeks afterwards as the majority of the supermarket retail stores were destroyed in the capital.
As most of you know who have followed the progression of events here, beginning immediately after the earthquake, LaGonave was inundated with wave after wave of refugees, mostly friends and family members of LaGonave families but a number of people who were simply looking for a better place than their shattered neighborhoods in the capital.
US and UN troops did helicopter fly- overs, apparently looking for the tent cities that were popping up all over P-au-P and other devastated areas. Finding none, some agencies declared that LaGonave had no refugees. The fact was that the refugees of LaGonave were absorbed into the community, not living under tarps or tents as in other parts of the country.
As a rule, LaGonave is always on the hungry side in February and March, even in the best of times, as the dry season ends the food crops have long since been harvested, sold and eaten. Fruit trees and banana plants slow their production waiting for the rains.
The additional refugee population, the increased food prices, and the seasonal factors soon made hunger the everyday companion of many of the citizens of LaGonave, as existing food stocks dwindled. As the people began to cry out more and more for food relief, we realized that the mission had to be involved in finding and delivering food stuff to this part of the country in spite of the obstacles. Without food distribution starvation would have inevitably followed quickly on the heels of the devastation.
- Dan Irvine
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Recon of western La Gonave
For one reason or other, in spite of all the food distributions I’ve ridden out on, I have never been able to get to the Western half of La Gonave. It may not seem too far away by map but it is by real life – you know it’s the road because there aren’t any trees in it. This has meant that all of our thoughts on that half of the island are based on second hand information and this always bothered me. This last week I stopped waiting for an opportunity and we forged one, especially on account of having our brothers, JD and Chris from Ywam Montana here to scout the island that their base has been helping so much to feed.
We talked to our good friend here, Jean Berna, who is fluent in English, a mechanic, knows everybody, and is a real Christian, and he said he wanted to take us. He says that others have helped him greatly, since his humble beginnings as a kid on the Saline, and that he wants to help us help La Gonave. So he borrowed Butch’s truck and we headed West along the North coast for Gros Mange where we would bring food to the local church for distribution and stay the night.
We spent the afternoon until dusk walking about the town interviewing the people and local leaders and discussing their needs and hopes. We would repeat this in every town we stopped in during our three day trip. I wish there were time to flesh out the details because it was a pretty rich experience but alas, a few anecdotes is all that will fit our constrains.
I will tell you that all most villages suffer from the same sets of problems. Most are in dire need of drinking water. Thankfully, we aren’t the only ones who know this and organizations like Compassion and Haiti Outreach have already drilled wells and will be installing purifiers to remove the salt, a common problem in the coastal towns. However, there is a great deal still to be done just to meet this most basic need.
Everyplace we visited, on this trip and on many others, is extremely economically depressed. I cannot say with any certainty what unemployment might be by percentage but it is obviously higher than 50%. Unemployment is only part of the problem. What work there is earns so pitifully little money, even relatively, that even those who have full time work are in real poverty, no matter how one defines that word. A telling example is as follows. Chris Cambell sought out this number in Pointe-a-Racquette, the second largest city on the island with a population in the city of 7000 which includes 4000 refugees from the earthquake. For that population, we learned that only three sources of monetary income are charcoal, fishing, and money gifts from NGO’s or relatives in the U.S. There is no way to determine the amount of money sent from the States but we Chris worked out with some community leaders that the total income from fishing was $200 (USD) per month and $15,000 per month from charcoal. Spread that number over 7000 people? $2.17 per person per month. Again, they tell us this is the town’s only source of income. That’s their economy. I saw their wharf, it was shallow and poor, and I believe them. All of the other places we visited were in a similar way.
This lack of cash translates, of course, into a lack of food. But food is grown some on the island, just nowhere near enough. None of the three of us has the training to provide a thorough analysis but common sense still reveals a good deal. People who subsistence farm here are hungry for large portions of the year and that’s without an influx of refugees. Everyone without exception who we spoke to reported this. Even a cursory visual inspection of any agricultural land speaks of terrible soil conditions, lack of irrigation, lack of weed control, and lack of any applied fertilization, even animal. (Animals mostly free range here which means their waste stays where it lies and the plant nutrients are wasted.) Without being qualified to offer a prescription, it is intuitively obvious to me that the food yielded from the island could be multiplied significantly with even the most basic tools and methods.
The needs reported or obvious to us on this trip, and the many others I’ve taken, are many and various. The primary and secondary schools that exist need food and funding. More schools are needed. The chance of a bright young person from any of these places attending university is very slim. Healthcare is all but non-existent in the smaller or more distant towns and the road to the hospital in Anse Galets is long and difficult. Infrastructure is often little more than a single salty well and some bad jeep trails for the smaller towns and not a whole lot better for the larger. The list goes on.
I’m happy to report that we aren’t the only ones looking, in fact there are some excellent organizations trying to tackle these problems in some of the communities. Scottish Lemonade, the ones funding the total rebuild of the Wesleyan Hospital, and their partner Compassion, together have also improved roads, dug wells, run temporary clinics, sent children to school, and plenty more. There are other groups and praise God for them. However, the need is still far, far bigger than the supply. Have something on your heart for La Gonave? There’s a need waiting for it.
There’s something else happy to report and that’s that this island is absolutely beautiful. Before this trip West I didn’t know the half of it. Chris, JD, and I went to some places that very few North Americans get to see. Little towns set in palm forests on the beach, mountain villages growing crops out of red soil with the ocean in distance. These are things I should be showing with photographs but, once again, my bandwidth is restricted. Still, you’ll have to take my word for it that apart from the poverty this is a place unspoiled.
I don’t mean only the landscape, either, people here are warm and friendly and could teach some of us real lessons in hospitality. In Pointe-a-Raquette, for instance, we stayed at the house of the Wesleyan pastor. This kind man and his wife put us in their beds in their house. We realized that they were about to sleep on the ground outside and tried to make a fuss about it. They claimed that they don’t stay inside since the earthquake and that could be true but it wasn’t the kind of house that falls on you so I wonder. I think I could pick up the roof if it did. They also insisted on serving us their best meals, fish for supper and conch, which I love, for breakfast. But they didn’t eat with us, they served us as we ate. I’m not saying this made me feel comfortable but it sure does speak to their kindness to strangers.
It may be cliché but it’s a strange contrast, the third world poverty with the back drop of beauty and warmth. Being here, especially on our trip the last few days, sometimes feels like being in a movie. I hope that in the end, we’re not here just for an adventure. I’d ask those who pray for us and for Haiti to please ask God to lift up people to come answer many of the prayers of the people on the island. Praise God for what He’s already allowed us to do in this relief feeding. I pray that He will use the relationships we’ve forged in the process for the long term good and growth of His church and this island.
HS
Caleb Thompson
We talked to our good friend here, Jean Berna, who is fluent in English, a mechanic, knows everybody, and is a real Christian, and he said he wanted to take us. He says that others have helped him greatly, since his humble beginnings as a kid on the Saline, and that he wants to help us help La Gonave. So he borrowed Butch’s truck and we headed West along the North coast for Gros Mange where we would bring food to the local church for distribution and stay the night.
We spent the afternoon until dusk walking about the town interviewing the people and local leaders and discussing their needs and hopes. We would repeat this in every town we stopped in during our three day trip. I wish there were time to flesh out the details because it was a pretty rich experience but alas, a few anecdotes is all that will fit our constrains.
I will tell you that all most villages suffer from the same sets of problems. Most are in dire need of drinking water. Thankfully, we aren’t the only ones who know this and organizations like Compassion and Haiti Outreach have already drilled wells and will be installing purifiers to remove the salt, a common problem in the coastal towns. However, there is a great deal still to be done just to meet this most basic need.
Everyplace we visited, on this trip and on many others, is extremely economically depressed. I cannot say with any certainty what unemployment might be by percentage but it is obviously higher than 50%. Unemployment is only part of the problem. What work there is earns so pitifully little money, even relatively, that even those who have full time work are in real poverty, no matter how one defines that word. A telling example is as follows. Chris Cambell sought out this number in Pointe-a-Racquette, the second largest city on the island with a population in the city of 7000 which includes 4000 refugees from the earthquake. For that population, we learned that only three sources of monetary income are charcoal, fishing, and money gifts from NGO’s or relatives in the U.S. There is no way to determine the amount of money sent from the States but we Chris worked out with some community leaders that the total income from fishing was $200 (USD) per month and $15,000 per month from charcoal. Spread that number over 7000 people? $2.17 per person per month. Again, they tell us this is the town’s only source of income. That’s their economy. I saw their wharf, it was shallow and poor, and I believe them. All of the other places we visited were in a similar way.
This lack of cash translates, of course, into a lack of food. But food is grown some on the island, just nowhere near enough. None of the three of us has the training to provide a thorough analysis but common sense still reveals a good deal. People who subsistence farm here are hungry for large portions of the year and that’s without an influx of refugees. Everyone without exception who we spoke to reported this. Even a cursory visual inspection of any agricultural land speaks of terrible soil conditions, lack of irrigation, lack of weed control, and lack of any applied fertilization, even animal. (Animals mostly free range here which means their waste stays where it lies and the plant nutrients are wasted.) Without being qualified to offer a prescription, it is intuitively obvious to me that the food yielded from the island could be multiplied significantly with even the most basic tools and methods.
The needs reported or obvious to us on this trip, and the many others I’ve taken, are many and various. The primary and secondary schools that exist need food and funding. More schools are needed. The chance of a bright young person from any of these places attending university is very slim. Healthcare is all but non-existent in the smaller or more distant towns and the road to the hospital in Anse Galets is long and difficult. Infrastructure is often little more than a single salty well and some bad jeep trails for the smaller towns and not a whole lot better for the larger. The list goes on.
I’m happy to report that we aren’t the only ones looking, in fact there are some excellent organizations trying to tackle these problems in some of the communities. Scottish Lemonade, the ones funding the total rebuild of the Wesleyan Hospital, and their partner Compassion, together have also improved roads, dug wells, run temporary clinics, sent children to school, and plenty more. There are other groups and praise God for them. However, the need is still far, far bigger than the supply. Have something on your heart for La Gonave? There’s a need waiting for it.
There’s something else happy to report and that’s that this island is absolutely beautiful. Before this trip West I didn’t know the half of it. Chris, JD, and I went to some places that very few North Americans get to see. Little towns set in palm forests on the beach, mountain villages growing crops out of red soil with the ocean in distance. These are things I should be showing with photographs but, once again, my bandwidth is restricted. Still, you’ll have to take my word for it that apart from the poverty this is a place unspoiled.
I don’t mean only the landscape, either, people here are warm and friendly and could teach some of us real lessons in hospitality. In Pointe-a-Raquette, for instance, we stayed at the house of the Wesleyan pastor. This kind man and his wife put us in their beds in their house. We realized that they were about to sleep on the ground outside and tried to make a fuss about it. They claimed that they don’t stay inside since the earthquake and that could be true but it wasn’t the kind of house that falls on you so I wonder. I think I could pick up the roof if it did. They also insisted on serving us their best meals, fish for supper and conch, which I love, for breakfast. But they didn’t eat with us, they served us as we ate. I’m not saying this made me feel comfortable but it sure does speak to their kindness to strangers.
It may be cliché but it’s a strange contrast, the third world poverty with the back drop of beauty and warmth. Being here, especially on our trip the last few days, sometimes feels like being in a movie. I hope that in the end, we’re not here just for an adventure. I’d ask those who pray for us and for Haiti to please ask God to lift up people to come answer many of the prayers of the people on the island. Praise God for what He’s already allowed us to do in this relief feeding. I pray that He will use the relationships we’ve forged in the process for the long term good and growth of His church and this island.
HS
Caleb Thompson
Friday, March 26, 2010
Letter of Encouragement
Folks -
Below is an email of encouragement and gratitude to Caleb from Mr. Majestra Dahame who is the second mayor of Anse-a-Galets, the first mayor does not live on the island anymore so Dahame is the defacto village head. Caleb says he is amazed and moved by the email, it comes from an important and decent Christian man and represents the thoughts of many. Sometimes we see the negative side of Haitian culture, but there are of course many good and kind people there.
Below is an email of encouragement and gratitude to Caleb from Mr. Majestra Dahame who is the second mayor of Anse-a-Galets, the first mayor does not live on the island anymore so Dahame is the defacto village head. Caleb says he is amazed and moved by the email, it comes from an important and decent Christian man and represents the thoughts of many. Sometimes we see the negative side of Haitian culture, but there are of course many good and kind people there.
My freind Caleb, i,am very happy to write yuo to day i would like to tell yuo yuor presence here makes all peple in this village happy because yuo bring hope for them that resaon i would like to ask yuo to thank all peple in united states ho have sent anything for us we will always be thankfull about yuo this is yuor freind Dahame.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Caleb's update March 20 2010
Folks -
There is an answer to prayer in Caleb's update below. We have been praying that God keep the people calm and that He show us how to graciously deliver food under difficult circumstances.
Chris
We had a distribution for the Saline itself yesterday evening. Most of you have probably heard of the place by now, it's the tidal flat in Anse Galets where the poorest live because they don't have to pay land tax. Only the poorest live there because it floods several times a month. It's our backyard but I haven't actually been there when food has gone our. It was an amazing distribution.
It spite of the fact that the poorest of Anse Galets live there and that they have been our most vocal citizens at wharf unloading, it was perfectly peaceful and happy. The people receiving food waited patiently in a single file line for Pastor Keno to call their name and hand them their portion. All those present but not receiving food were not just calm but even agreeable. They said things like "God bless you" to Pastor Keno and I, even though they didn't get anything themselves. I wish I could send pictures but alas, we're on bandwidth rationing again.
I suspect I know a couple of the reasons why the distribution went so well. Of course, God's grace is the power behind all kingdom work. After that, though, Pastor Keno found a good local leader. This man made a list of the poorest people that was apparently fair and true enough that even other poor people had to agree. The last reason is not politically correct but its worth remembering. They did not give any food to males between 15 and 50. I've heard of the UN doing the same thing, even in spite of their PC mandate. I have to tell you that 99% of the anger, hustling, aggressive begging or other nonsense comes from that group. It's no surprise but putting this rule into action really made a difference.
The day before, March 19th, Chris, JD, and I did our first purchase of local food. WISH’s board wanted to put $5000 toward our relief feeding effort and with that we bought 8000lbs of food, exactly the amount we can haul in the Breezy Sea. (That's the lobster boat, AKA, JD's new toy. ) Everything went fine, maybe the smoothest day we’ve had yet moving food. There was hardly an extra person at the wharfs and no trouble at all making the transaction; I’m not surprised. This food now sits in Pastor Keno’s warehouse and is being distributed as I write. It won’t feed everyone but its certainly still a worthwhile gift, just ask anyone who’ll receive some – that could be 1000 families receiving 8 lbs of dry food. That IS something, its what we’d want if we were in their shoes, and it only cost $5000 to do. It doesn't take a that much money to really answer some prayers for people.
These last two days, buying food and getting it our have been the smoothest so far in doing our job down here. I in no way mean to boast here, it's the Lord that has taught us, but I think He is blessing our efforts and we have learned a lot.
HS,
Caleb
There is an answer to prayer in Caleb's update below. We have been praying that God keep the people calm and that He show us how to graciously deliver food under difficult circumstances.
Chris
We had a distribution for the Saline itself yesterday evening. Most of you have probably heard of the place by now, it's the tidal flat in Anse Galets where the poorest live because they don't have to pay land tax. Only the poorest live there because it floods several times a month. It's our backyard but I haven't actually been there when food has gone our. It was an amazing distribution.
It spite of the fact that the poorest of Anse Galets live there and that they have been our most vocal citizens at wharf unloading, it was perfectly peaceful and happy. The people receiving food waited patiently in a single file line for Pastor Keno to call their name and hand them their portion. All those present but not receiving food were not just calm but even agreeable. They said things like "God bless you" to Pastor Keno and I, even though they didn't get anything themselves. I wish I could send pictures but alas, we're on bandwidth rationing again.
I suspect I know a couple of the reasons why the distribution went so well. Of course, God's grace is the power behind all kingdom work. After that, though, Pastor Keno found a good local leader. This man made a list of the poorest people that was apparently fair and true enough that even other poor people had to agree. The last reason is not politically correct but its worth remembering. They did not give any food to males between 15 and 50. I've heard of the UN doing the same thing, even in spite of their PC mandate. I have to tell you that 99% of the anger, hustling, aggressive begging or other nonsense comes from that group. It's no surprise but putting this rule into action really made a difference.
The day before, March 19th, Chris, JD, and I did our first purchase of local food. WISH’s board wanted to put $5000 toward our relief feeding effort and with that we bought 8000lbs of food, exactly the amount we can haul in the Breezy Sea. (That's the lobster boat, AKA, JD's new toy. ) Everything went fine, maybe the smoothest day we’ve had yet moving food. There was hardly an extra person at the wharfs and no trouble at all making the transaction; I’m not surprised. This food now sits in Pastor Keno’s warehouse and is being distributed as I write. It won’t feed everyone but its certainly still a worthwhile gift, just ask anyone who’ll receive some – that could be 1000 families receiving 8 lbs of dry food. That IS something, its what we’d want if we were in their shoes, and it only cost $5000 to do. It doesn't take a that much money to really answer some prayers for people.
These last two days, buying food and getting it our have been the smoothest so far in doing our job down here. I in no way mean to boast here, it's the Lord that has taught us, but I think He is blessing our efforts and we have learned a lot.
HS,
Caleb
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Haiti Update 031710
Man the time flies down here. And occasionally drags, especially when you're in the back of a rattling one ton truck bouncing around in diesel choked insanity traffic. Both Caleb and I have been alternating on again and off again with internet connectivity (now we aren't looking for excuses! these are reasons!) so our updates have been sorely behind schedule. OK, we're slackers. I admit it.
A week ago, our two best and bravest allies and closest friends in Anse a Galets, the Berna brothers, both came down with Typhoid. These two guys have never asked for anything from us but give their all every day to help with food distribution. Illness like this happens in Haiti all happens occasionally - locals live with the reality of disease and death from what we consider curable or preventable diseases. Praise the Lord that both of these guys are on the mend, but while you're reading this, pray for our brothers and their young families. I'm so glad they were able to get quick treatment at the Wesleyan hospital, the only one on the island. It's an fantastic team of local doctors and visiting teams of medical personnel who all love the Lord and the Haitian people - all backed up by Diane, Justine and Matt who make it all work behind the scenes.
Our role in procuring and distributing food has begun to shift. At one point in the infancy of this ministry, Caleb was involved in moving food physically and choosing the pathways for distribution as well as accompanying each delivery. Now we are on the cusp of purchasing food locally and depending more and more on trusted pastors and community leaders as it is disseminated. It is, in effect, a progression toward 'working our way out of a job'. Our efforts are aimed at shifting from relief aid in the form of food, to making longer term contributions that develop the church and the community. Some of this may involve the World Food Program and/or feeding kids who attend church and private schools, but we know that the church here is the keystone to any ministry to the people of La Gonave.
I left working alonside Caleb to pursue housing and long term food relief supply options on the mainland about a week ago. We have been a witness to, through the Lord's provision of materials and great relationships, 10 hoop homes being built and have developed key relationships for future housing and church building opportunities. I had no idea we would build anything at all at first. I still feel called to provide some relief for the horrid living conditions in so many places in Haiti, but the shape of that calling is continuing to form.
Massive temporary housing projects, although appealing by the sheer economies of scale, are just not within our reach for a variety of reasons. What has emerged as a pressing need is pole buildings for churches in which school is offered to the community and worship and teaching are conducted. Parents make their kids go to school both for opportunities to learn and because there is the promise of at least on meal during the day. Dan Irvine, the director for the Caribbean region of Wesleyan churches, has developed plans to create pole building packages and small team development that may become part of what I do here in the future. In the process of building church structures and developing more permanent links with local church bodies down here, we will have opportunity to build clusters of hoop houses as we find the land and leadership to facilitate partnerships in housing. Ultimately, we all want to see the local churches doing most of the work, with teams from the US providing materials, manpower and experience to get them done quickly and correctly. The ministry of Haiti to the people who come to minister here goes without emphasizing - it's more blessing to us than to the ones we serve.
We are praying always for the Lord to do the work and open our eyes to see His hand in all things. Caleb and I confer continuously and bounce our thoughts and ideas off each other. We are so blessed to have each other to encourage, exhort, and sharpen.
I'm looking forward to coming home this weekend. I fly back to the states today, but will spend a couple of days in the Palm Beach area working on shipping issues. Please pray that the evangelism tools that are waiting in the area make it into the containers. I'm looking forward to taking a couple of days rest - partly to decompress and adjust to normal life a bit, but also to work through all these open doors with Joan. She's sorely missed down here - even though there's the internet and email (sporradically? intermittently?), it's just not the same as having your best friend, advisor and ally by your side.
A week ago, our two best and bravest allies and closest friends in Anse a Galets, the Berna brothers, both came down with Typhoid. These two guys have never asked for anything from us but give their all every day to help with food distribution. Illness like this happens in Haiti all happens occasionally - locals live with the reality of disease and death from what we consider curable or preventable diseases. Praise the Lord that both of these guys are on the mend, but while you're reading this, pray for our brothers and their young families. I'm so glad they were able to get quick treatment at the Wesleyan hospital, the only one on the island. It's an fantastic team of local doctors and visiting teams of medical personnel who all love the Lord and the Haitian people - all backed up by Diane, Justine and Matt who make it all work behind the scenes.
Our role in procuring and distributing food has begun to shift. At one point in the infancy of this ministry, Caleb was involved in moving food physically and choosing the pathways for distribution as well as accompanying each delivery. Now we are on the cusp of purchasing food locally and depending more and more on trusted pastors and community leaders as it is disseminated. It is, in effect, a progression toward 'working our way out of a job'. Our efforts are aimed at shifting from relief aid in the form of food, to making longer term contributions that develop the church and the community. Some of this may involve the World Food Program and/or feeding kids who attend church and private schools, but we know that the church here is the keystone to any ministry to the people of La Gonave.
I left working alonside Caleb to pursue housing and long term food relief supply options on the mainland about a week ago. We have been a witness to, through the Lord's provision of materials and great relationships, 10 hoop homes being built and have developed key relationships for future housing and church building opportunities. I had no idea we would build anything at all at first. I still feel called to provide some relief for the horrid living conditions in so many places in Haiti, but the shape of that calling is continuing to form.
Massive temporary housing projects, although appealing by the sheer economies of scale, are just not within our reach for a variety of reasons. What has emerged as a pressing need is pole buildings for churches in which school is offered to the community and worship and teaching are conducted. Parents make their kids go to school both for opportunities to learn and because there is the promise of at least on meal during the day. Dan Irvine, the director for the Caribbean region of Wesleyan churches, has developed plans to create pole building packages and small team development that may become part of what I do here in the future. In the process of building church structures and developing more permanent links with local church bodies down here, we will have opportunity to build clusters of hoop houses as we find the land and leadership to facilitate partnerships in housing. Ultimately, we all want to see the local churches doing most of the work, with teams from the US providing materials, manpower and experience to get them done quickly and correctly. The ministry of Haiti to the people who come to minister here goes without emphasizing - it's more blessing to us than to the ones we serve.
We are praying always for the Lord to do the work and open our eyes to see His hand in all things. Caleb and I confer continuously and bounce our thoughts and ideas off each other. We are so blessed to have each other to encourage, exhort, and sharpen.
I'm looking forward to coming home this weekend. I fly back to the states today, but will spend a couple of days in the Palm Beach area working on shipping issues. Please pray that the evangelism tools that are waiting in the area make it into the containers. I'm looking forward to taking a couple of days rest - partly to decompress and adjust to normal life a bit, but also to work through all these open doors with Joan. She's sorely missed down here - even though there's the internet and email (sporradically? intermittently?), it's just not the same as having your best friend, advisor and ally by your side.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Pete update 16 MAR 10
The YWAM medical clinic in St. Marc is a rehabitated former missionary hospital. Bordered by a road along the ocean about fifty yards to the west, and tucked into some of the poorest neighborhoods on the south end of the city, the clinic sees the full range of chronic illness and acute care. Two nurses and a doctor from the states commute from the YWAM base every day through town along the seaside road.
JD, Chris, Caleb and I walked from the YWAM base for the mile and a half journey down the main street of St. Marc in the late afternoon heat. The ocean popped into view after a block or so and the road eventually left the cookstands and shop openings behind. A handful of enthusiastic and half-dressed boys yelled 'blanc' and ran to us from a dirty courtyard where their older peers were playing barefoot soccer without them. The houses were like those on the Saline on La Gonave - tin, wood poles, some plywood or other sheet goods, a little bit of palm thatch. Those boys would not leave us alone. They followed us giggling and laughing for at least a half mile or so. It was just a wonderful contradiction to a really long day of travelling, fixing truck tires, and moving sacks of rice and beans around in tractor trailer beds.
JD and I took turns letting the boys hang off our arms and swinging them between us as we shuffled down the road. They were so skinny that I could have just let each of them hang there for five minutes. They wouldn't let us leave them behind or enter the courtyard of the clinic without a at least one hug. I have no idea why they thought we were so cool - a bunch of grimy, gritty, poorly dressed American guys. Some kids yell blanc and smile when you walk by, some just stare, but these boys thought we were the best thing since rice and beans. God's little reminder of peace and light - His future generations for hope in Haiti if He tarries.
We met and were given a quick tour by the clinic staff. Our timing was pretty bad (a hallmark of my gender and family tradition) but the staff were really gracious and promised us access to the whole clinic. They headed back to the YWAM base to get cleaned up for dinner. A quiet and serious Haitian volunteer showed us the rest of the clinic and answered questions for Caleb. If I remember right he was schooled in the US and returned after the quake. Another encouraging moment. The clinic, as it now serves the city, has several exam rooms, a reception area, two in-patient rooms, a cooking room, and two large classrooms, plus storage areas. Windows in the rooms are open rectangles in the concrete walls with a length of screen material covering the entire opening. There were maybe five or six chairs in the whole building. One man with TB sat in a wheelchair in one room while his wife and kids entertained him. A single mattress lay on the floor.
In the south courtyard of the clinic stood ten white hoop houses and small groups of women and kids. A few men milled around quietly. The setting sun reflecting off the palm branches, cooling breezes, and the sound of the surf all had a calming effect on things. It could have been a side street in San Diego except for the stark temporary homes and the courtyard wall topped with conch shells pointed at the sky. I guess it was laundry time in the refugee area. A few teenage girls and perhaps their mother watched us go by and responded with quiet 'bon soirs'.
In the middle of the camp, one young girl had a year old baby in her lap as she watched another lady scrub laundry in a washtub. This woman smiled but did not want her picture taken. I took a few pictures of the kids. JD and Chris talked with them and the woman and got her to smile. Caleb introduced me to a dignified man who had been watching us intently from the entry of an adjacent hoop home. I can't remember his name, but wish I could. He had sad eyes but held his head up. We made introductions and took turns trading questions.
He lost his wife and four kids in Port au Prince when his house collapsed and wound up here in St. Marc in the mass exodus. He had no home, no family, and no food when he arrived. The clinic feeds all these families, about a hundred and ten people in all, who have all lost everything they own or even more. I didn't feel right taking his picture without asking first. We aren't tourists, we're witnesses to real suffering. Sometimes that's easy to forget when the professional beggars try to hit you up at the airport. It's easy to remember when you see pain firsthand.
Caleb and I both told him that we would tell all our friends in North America about what happened to him so that we all would not forget Haiti and would keep praying. He didn't ask for anything from us, not even a phone number. He was truly grateful for the grace given him by YWAM to have a place to sleep and a meal each day to eat. What he did want was work.
He knows that God means this for good, that this did not happen as some random act by a distant or angry god. That is really humbling to hear firsthand. He lives now totally dependent on God to provide everything he needs. He only wants to participate in the process.
How can we reach others in Haiti with that message? - that God does mean this for good, that He wants us in a relationship with Him that tranforms us from trying to appease Him to 'living by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God'. A relationship through Jesus Christ that brings a man from depending on mankind to save him to trusting in the Faithful One who delivers on His promises for everything he needs. A relationship with Him that permeates all our other relationships and causes us to seek to please Him more than anyone else.
Pete
JD, Chris, Caleb and I walked from the YWAM base for the mile and a half journey down the main street of St. Marc in the late afternoon heat. The ocean popped into view after a block or so and the road eventually left the cookstands and shop openings behind. A handful of enthusiastic and half-dressed boys yelled 'blanc' and ran to us from a dirty courtyard where their older peers were playing barefoot soccer without them. The houses were like those on the Saline on La Gonave - tin, wood poles, some plywood or other sheet goods, a little bit of palm thatch. Those boys would not leave us alone. They followed us giggling and laughing for at least a half mile or so. It was just a wonderful contradiction to a really long day of travelling, fixing truck tires, and moving sacks of rice and beans around in tractor trailer beds.
JD and I took turns letting the boys hang off our arms and swinging them between us as we shuffled down the road. They were so skinny that I could have just let each of them hang there for five minutes. They wouldn't let us leave them behind or enter the courtyard of the clinic without a at least one hug. I have no idea why they thought we were so cool - a bunch of grimy, gritty, poorly dressed American guys. Some kids yell blanc and smile when you walk by, some just stare, but these boys thought we were the best thing since rice and beans. God's little reminder of peace and light - His future generations for hope in Haiti if He tarries.
We met and were given a quick tour by the clinic staff. Our timing was pretty bad (a hallmark of my gender and family tradition) but the staff were really gracious and promised us access to the whole clinic. They headed back to the YWAM base to get cleaned up for dinner. A quiet and serious Haitian volunteer showed us the rest of the clinic and answered questions for Caleb. If I remember right he was schooled in the US and returned after the quake. Another encouraging moment. The clinic, as it now serves the city, has several exam rooms, a reception area, two in-patient rooms, a cooking room, and two large classrooms, plus storage areas. Windows in the rooms are open rectangles in the concrete walls with a length of screen material covering the entire opening. There were maybe five or six chairs in the whole building. One man with TB sat in a wheelchair in one room while his wife and kids entertained him. A single mattress lay on the floor.
In the south courtyard of the clinic stood ten white hoop houses and small groups of women and kids. A few men milled around quietly. The setting sun reflecting off the palm branches, cooling breezes, and the sound of the surf all had a calming effect on things. It could have been a side street in San Diego except for the stark temporary homes and the courtyard wall topped with conch shells pointed at the sky. I guess it was laundry time in the refugee area. A few teenage girls and perhaps their mother watched us go by and responded with quiet 'bon soirs'.
In the middle of the camp, one young girl had a year old baby in her lap as she watched another lady scrub laundry in a washtub. This woman smiled but did not want her picture taken. I took a few pictures of the kids. JD and Chris talked with them and the woman and got her to smile. Caleb introduced me to a dignified man who had been watching us intently from the entry of an adjacent hoop home. I can't remember his name, but wish I could. He had sad eyes but held his head up. We made introductions and took turns trading questions.
He lost his wife and four kids in Port au Prince when his house collapsed and wound up here in St. Marc in the mass exodus. He had no home, no family, and no food when he arrived. The clinic feeds all these families, about a hundred and ten people in all, who have all lost everything they own or even more. I didn't feel right taking his picture without asking first. We aren't tourists, we're witnesses to real suffering. Sometimes that's easy to forget when the professional beggars try to hit you up at the airport. It's easy to remember when you see pain firsthand.
Caleb and I both told him that we would tell all our friends in North America about what happened to him so that we all would not forget Haiti and would keep praying. He didn't ask for anything from us, not even a phone number. He was truly grateful for the grace given him by YWAM to have a place to sleep and a meal each day to eat. What he did want was work.
He knows that God means this for good, that this did not happen as some random act by a distant or angry god. That is really humbling to hear firsthand. He lives now totally dependent on God to provide everything he needs. He only wants to participate in the process.
How can we reach others in Haiti with that message? - that God does mean this for good, that He wants us in a relationship with Him that tranforms us from trying to appease Him to 'living by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God'. A relationship through Jesus Christ that brings a man from depending on mankind to save him to trusting in the Faithful One who delivers on His promises for everything he needs. A relationship with Him that permeates all our other relationships and causes us to seek to please Him more than anyone else.
Pete
Monday, March 15, 2010
Haiti Update 14Mar10
It seems important to me to emphasize that the need for food has not diminished on La Gonave, even in some parts of the mainland. There is always food for sale in the markets, but so many people are both poor and out of work to boot and they are feeding more people in their homes. If they have a home - La Gonave is suffering for food, but parts large swaths of Delmas and Carfour Feuille are just rubble and twisted steel. Here's a thought provoker: the earthquake that some have said is the worst natural calamity in the past century is only a two month old event. Kind of puts it in perspective.
Caleb and I have been forced to be still and wait on the Lord a lot - did I say a lot? - lately. Honestly it's taxed us and kept us from communicating to you frequently. So much uncertainty is difficult to communicate without sounding completely aimless - and we aren't! There's been so much change happening around us, and the Lord has opened some amazing avenues for continued work here.
Pastor Ken Ortize warned me about this - we had better be ready to pursue the Lord in the stillness of those plans that were confounded, and let Him define the ministry, or nothing of Him is going to be left in it. Good advice. We of course, thought we had done that yesterday and the day before that, only to find it necessary again today. Ditto for tomorrow, I'm sure! We're getting more comfortable with Holy Ambiguity, but it's still pretty hard to discuss in a blog or facebook update.
There is one direction we are now sure of. To continue the ministry of relief food distribution the Lord has placed us in, we will need to purchase food at wholesale prices locally. This will help to resolve short term problems and is more sustainable, but there's a lot to it.
First, we were unable to get the most recent four containers of food and tarps delivered to St. Marc last week despite tons of prayer and our best efforts. We have a food 'gap' to fill that will last at least four weeks, and local purchases can be tailored to fill the needs and meet the availability of our existing ferrying and local distribution chains.
In the meantime, the Haitian government is making efforts to impose ridiculous import duties and policies. When these will be enforced is not fully known - most customs agents know that it's going to hurt them personally and the nation as a whole and are opposed. Local purchases bypass the unknown cost factors such as tarrifs and duty fees in the near term. We have found that cost comparisons can be monitored pretty accurately too. As of right now, we would save 15% overall on food bought locally versus food imported via additional containers.
Our goal has been to be as invisible as possible and as useful as possible in serving here. To maintain the current level of trucking, ferrying, and distributing food we have to keep a robust physical presence in all phases of food handling. Purchasing locally not only keeps our hands off the food more and reduces our need to be involved, but puts the responsibility of delivery to the distribution chain (pastors) on the supplier. To boot, it also puts money back into the economy in Haiti, generates profit, and creates a few jobs.
Some of the resources we have are limited. Our boating capacity, even with the lobster boat (which is fortunately repairable), has turned out to be less than what was desired. We are able to continue to ferry goods via the Wesleyana, a 30+ foot wooden fishing vessel, but it has a limited cargo capacity of about two tons. One container of food is about 23 tons. One truckload of goods is usually about 11.5 tons - just about enough food to make a one-time distribution effort worthwhile on the island.
This means at some point food has to be stored before it reaches the pastoral distribution chain. Local purchases will ultimately put the entire process of trucking, ferrying, and if necessary storing and securing food in the hands of others who have a vested interest in getting the food to the distribution chain with the least amount of storage and handling. It's our version of Just In Time Inventory.
Here's an interesting cultural tidbit you may find interesting. Culturally, when a Haitian has more than he needs of something his neighbor is entitled to ask for the extra for himself. And there's a certain moral high ground to the request. This is one reason why virtually all the people who fled Port Au Prince to La Gonave were provided shelter and have not been left out in the elements. It's also why some folks can't keep enough food for their families for a week when there's others living with them who have nothing to eat for that day. I have seen this first hand on the mainland also.
This expectation of sharing can occasionally make handling or temporarily storing large quantities of food difficult. People who know that free food is passing through their neighborhood may begin to believe that it's just as much their food as someone elses, even though they don't know who that someone else is or how hungry they are.
Knowing these things may make it easier for you to see why at times people will congregate and vocalize their need for the food with a certain amount of insistence. Purchasing and making delivery locally as much as possible without our direct involvement makes the food appear to already 'belong' to someone else - creating a moral barrier for those who might be more easily inclined to be forceful in demanding food and keeping us farther away from situations of having to defend the goods with hired security.
Anyway, that's a longer dissertation than I wanted it to be. Hopefully it is helpful for people who want to know some of the challenges that changing our purchasing methods should resolve. We definitely the Lord steering our circumstances, our thoughts and opportunities as we motor along behind Him. Please continue to pray for wisdom and funds as we seek longer term solutions for the needs of the Haitian people.
We thank God for all our encouragers and prayer partners in this ministry. It is so awesome to see the stream of comments on facebook, to hear about prayers from folks for Haiti and the team here. Thank you for your faithfulness.
Caleb and I have been forced to be still and wait on the Lord a lot - did I say a lot? - lately. Honestly it's taxed us and kept us from communicating to you frequently. So much uncertainty is difficult to communicate without sounding completely aimless - and we aren't! There's been so much change happening around us, and the Lord has opened some amazing avenues for continued work here.
Pastor Ken Ortize warned me about this - we had better be ready to pursue the Lord in the stillness of those plans that were confounded, and let Him define the ministry, or nothing of Him is going to be left in it. Good advice. We of course, thought we had done that yesterday and the day before that, only to find it necessary again today. Ditto for tomorrow, I'm sure! We're getting more comfortable with Holy Ambiguity, but it's still pretty hard to discuss in a blog or facebook update.
There is one direction we are now sure of. To continue the ministry of relief food distribution the Lord has placed us in, we will need to purchase food at wholesale prices locally. This will help to resolve short term problems and is more sustainable, but there's a lot to it.
First, we were unable to get the most recent four containers of food and tarps delivered to St. Marc last week despite tons of prayer and our best efforts. We have a food 'gap' to fill that will last at least four weeks, and local purchases can be tailored to fill the needs and meet the availability of our existing ferrying and local distribution chains.
In the meantime, the Haitian government is making efforts to impose ridiculous import duties and policies. When these will be enforced is not fully known - most customs agents know that it's going to hurt them personally and the nation as a whole and are opposed. Local purchases bypass the unknown cost factors such as tarrifs and duty fees in the near term. We have found that cost comparisons can be monitored pretty accurately too. As of right now, we would save 15% overall on food bought locally versus food imported via additional containers.
Our goal has been to be as invisible as possible and as useful as possible in serving here. To maintain the current level of trucking, ferrying, and distributing food we have to keep a robust physical presence in all phases of food handling. Purchasing locally not only keeps our hands off the food more and reduces our need to be involved, but puts the responsibility of delivery to the distribution chain (pastors) on the supplier. To boot, it also puts money back into the economy in Haiti, generates profit, and creates a few jobs.
Some of the resources we have are limited. Our boating capacity, even with the lobster boat (which is fortunately repairable), has turned out to be less than what was desired. We are able to continue to ferry goods via the Wesleyana, a 30+ foot wooden fishing vessel, but it has a limited cargo capacity of about two tons. One container of food is about 23 tons. One truckload of goods is usually about 11.5 tons - just about enough food to make a one-time distribution effort worthwhile on the island.
This means at some point food has to be stored before it reaches the pastoral distribution chain. Local purchases will ultimately put the entire process of trucking, ferrying, and if necessary storing and securing food in the hands of others who have a vested interest in getting the food to the distribution chain with the least amount of storage and handling. It's our version of Just In Time Inventory.
Here's an interesting cultural tidbit you may find interesting. Culturally, when a Haitian has more than he needs of something his neighbor is entitled to ask for the extra for himself. And there's a certain moral high ground to the request. This is one reason why virtually all the people who fled Port Au Prince to La Gonave were provided shelter and have not been left out in the elements. It's also why some folks can't keep enough food for their families for a week when there's others living with them who have nothing to eat for that day. I have seen this first hand on the mainland also.
This expectation of sharing can occasionally make handling or temporarily storing large quantities of food difficult. People who know that free food is passing through their neighborhood may begin to believe that it's just as much their food as someone elses, even though they don't know who that someone else is or how hungry they are.
Knowing these things may make it easier for you to see why at times people will congregate and vocalize their need for the food with a certain amount of insistence. Purchasing and making delivery locally as much as possible without our direct involvement makes the food appear to already 'belong' to someone else - creating a moral barrier for those who might be more easily inclined to be forceful in demanding food and keeping us farther away from situations of having to defend the goods with hired security.
Anyway, that's a longer dissertation than I wanted it to be. Hopefully it is helpful for people who want to know some of the challenges that changing our purchasing methods should resolve. We definitely the Lord steering our circumstances, our thoughts and opportunities as we motor along behind Him. Please continue to pray for wisdom and funds as we seek longer term solutions for the needs of the Haitian people.
We thank God for all our encouragers and prayer partners in this ministry. It is so awesome to see the stream of comments on facebook, to hear about prayers from folks for Haiti and the team here. Thank you for your faithfulness.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Update from La Gonave base
I hope you can find time to read and watch this:
Kids run barefoot behind the truck as it rattles up the road past tin-roofed shanties and drives toward the Wesleyan Mission Station. “That’s the Saline. The poorest of the poor live there,” a missionary explains to the team of nurses riding in the back of the white pickup. Plastic bottles, Styrofoam cartons, and discarded food line the ditches along the unpaved road where pigs and goats munch away. The nurses look on with motherly gazes as they wave to the shoeless, pant-less children.
http://gpcaribeatlantic.com/
Kids run barefoot behind the truck as it rattles up the road past tin-roofed shanties and drives toward the Wesleyan Mission Station. “That’s the Saline. The poorest of the poor live there,” a missionary explains to the team of nurses riding in the back of the white pickup. Plastic bottles, Styrofoam cartons, and discarded food line the ditches along the unpaved road where pigs and goats munch away. The nurses look on with motherly gazes as they wave to the shoeless, pant-less children.
http://gpcaribeatlantic.com/
Saturday, March 13, 2010
update from Caleb, prayer requests 13MAR10
Friends,
Sometimes it seems like ministry in Haiti is about waiting to minister in Haiti. It’s been like that for the last few days, anyway.
It’s old news that the 4 containers full of much needed food are delayed. In order to get food sooner, we are going to fill the need with local purchases as a stop-gap measure; this is a process we need to develop anyway in light of the coming customs duty. Instead of describing for you the slow, steady, forward movement we’ve made in getting a network built so that we can purchase locally with full accountability, I’d like to make a few prayer requests.
God loves the Haitian people: He has not taken them off our heart – the need is ever before me. God has always shown us the way, given us the tools. I see, even close on the horizon, new blessings coming. Chris and JD, the team from Ywam MT, are in Haiti now and they should arrive on the island this afternoon. Please pray for them, that God will give them His eyes here and show them how to help meet the needs. Pray that God continues to direct Ywam MT – that He shows them the full role He has for them in Haiti and but especially on La Gonave.
I would ask for prayer for our purchase of local food from St Marc. We’ve done our part, making sure we’re dealing with trusted partners, making sure the process is clear and accountable. Please pray that the money will come and that it will go smoothly to its destination, to become food for people who need it. No wasted time. Please pray that God will honor this work.
Also, please pray that God will continue to send into the field for this work every person He has called at this time for these immediate, trying needs of La Gonave. For the administration of our food distribution, we need only a few. What else does God want done here in Haiti, especially on La Gonave, and by whom? Let’s ask Him.
Finally, please pray that God direct us continually in His will. Please ask Him that He show us how long we are to provide food relief. Pray that when His time is right, He will show us how to transition from relief to development. That we do not take these decisions into our own hands but that by God’s guidance we feed our brother until we can teach him to fish.
For all of these things we are (I am) entirely dependent on the Lord.
And to Him be the glory.
HS.
Caleb Thompson
Sometimes it seems like ministry in Haiti is about waiting to minister in Haiti. It’s been like that for the last few days, anyway.
It’s old news that the 4 containers full of much needed food are delayed. In order to get food sooner, we are going to fill the need with local purchases as a stop-gap measure; this is a process we need to develop anyway in light of the coming customs duty. Instead of describing for you the slow, steady, forward movement we’ve made in getting a network built so that we can purchase locally with full accountability, I’d like to make a few prayer requests.
God loves the Haitian people: He has not taken them off our heart – the need is ever before me. God has always shown us the way, given us the tools. I see, even close on the horizon, new blessings coming. Chris and JD, the team from Ywam MT, are in Haiti now and they should arrive on the island this afternoon. Please pray for them, that God will give them His eyes here and show them how to help meet the needs. Pray that God continues to direct Ywam MT – that He shows them the full role He has for them in Haiti and but especially on La Gonave.
I would ask for prayer for our purchase of local food from St Marc. We’ve done our part, making sure we’re dealing with trusted partners, making sure the process is clear and accountable. Please pray that the money will come and that it will go smoothly to its destination, to become food for people who need it. No wasted time. Please pray that God will honor this work.
Also, please pray that God will continue to send into the field for this work every person He has called at this time for these immediate, trying needs of La Gonave. For the administration of our food distribution, we need only a few. What else does God want done here in Haiti, especially on La Gonave, and by whom? Let’s ask Him.
Finally, please pray that God direct us continually in His will. Please ask Him that He show us how long we are to provide food relief. Pray that when His time is right, He will show us how to transition from relief to development. That we do not take these decisions into our own hands but that by God’s guidance we feed our brother until we can teach him to fish.
For all of these things we are (I am) entirely dependent on the Lord.
And to Him be the glory.
HS.
Caleb Thompson
Haiti Update 09Mar10
The trip planned for the 9th was diverted from Petit Goave to churches closer to Port au Prince by the shear realities of driving in Haiti. It takes too much time to get from A to B. Getting to C is just not an option on some days. Today was one of them.
Carl Gilles, Dan Irvine's right hand man, and I met up with Kim from YWAM Port au Prince in the morning to tour potential sites for construction and mutual team efforts by both YWAM and the Wesleyan church. We were early, but the meeting got off to a late start. By 1130 AM we were almost in Cite Soleil, one of the toughest parts of town. Five years ago it was the kidnapping capital of Haiti, but now it's relatively safe for most people to walk in the day. We met with a pastor at his church right off the road. He lives with his family in a couple of cheap tents out back of the old church structure. It's still standing, but all the other buildings used for education, cooking, and outhouses are all compromised and falling in on themselves. They meet now under a blue tarp. If they can get food, they can feed the kids who want to come to school there (all schools are private). Unfortunately, they can't keep food onsite because of the lack of a compound wall at night - it completely fell down during the quake. They need a wall first, food second, and a temporary church structure third. Not exactly how we would think it should be. I paced off the available space for a pole building and asked questions about underground utilities. Duh. There aren't any. I knew that already.
We made our way to the church where YWAM had erected the 7 hoop houses the day prior. All the personal belongings of the families were in the tents (a few mattresses, some clothes here and there, a few cooking utensils) but almost everyone was gone to town. I didn't figure out why, but the two women who stayed behind were smiling when we walked toward them. They didn't smile the day we set up the houses. Today they said Bon Soir as we left. Just another ten blocks away we visited a church holding classes in an open courtyard under an immense blue tarp. Loud fun music played as hundred or so kids were filing in, all dressed pretty neatly. Instant kid magnet, I took a couple of pictures to cover my escape. The classroom building was a pile of rubble on the west side. Steps leading up to a jumble of broken concrete. People seemed happy to see us coming and going. As we waited to get unparked (blocked by another truck), a woman washed her 6 year old boy's feet and sandals in the running gray water along the side of the street.
We managed to return Kim to the YWAM office for a meeting at 4 PM then we drove up rutted dirt tracks through Delmas into Petionville - the PaP middle class neighborhood. Kiskaya church is big, maybe five or six hundred seats, and has a pleasant campus kind of feel. Carl attended a workshop on crisis counseling hosted by an international mental health organization and a U.S. based counseling ministry through Baptist University of Texas. The meeting was conducted in Creole, so I sat outside and took notes and prayed. A few people approached to talk. There were counselors meeting with individuals to help them through the torment of the quake and the loss. One interpreter worked with each. I'm not sure who was more cheerful after each session, the person talking of their experience or the interpreter. It seems like the national load of pain is carried by everyone, and when one is lifted they are all lifted. I met Erica from Texas who had been camping in the courtyard and counseling here for two weeks. This is her last year before graduation. She's served on the mission field in the middle east for several years but saw the need for counseling in Iraq - she herself needed to work through the pain and following good care decided that biblical counseling was her calling. There's teams of a dozen or so cycling through the campus, sleeping in tents, seeing dozens of people and pastors each day.
That's when I met Innocent Charles. That's his first and last name. He asked me if I knew what that name meant. He interrupted me to tell me what the name Peter meant. I didn't buy the dodge. Innocent by the blood of the Lamb alone, I told him. He wouldn't look me in the eye when I spoke to him, but only when he spoke to me. He had been waiting since 9 AM to see a counselor. He lost two family members, but won't say which ones, in the quake. I asked him if he had trouble sleeping now. I guess two hours of sleep classifies as trouble. His home is rubble and he has no job. He does have family in Cite Soleil, but that's a bad part of town. He talked to me about prophecy - did I know that Chile and Japan had earthquakes recently? So what happens at the end of the world, I asked? He was optimistic that we who love Jesus all go to heaven, but that's as far as the eschatology train went. I listened to some other thoughts he had on encouragement from scripture during trials, which we both agreed we needed to hold on to in these last days. I grabbed a white guy who walked by hoping that it would be the one he was scheduled to see hours ago... and .... IT WAS! Thanks Lord. Innocent got his moment of relief.
A group of about thirty adolescent kids gathered in the side field to hold a bible study. They sat on folding chairs in a big circle. Afterwards they broke up in to a soccer game and half-court basketball match. Two or three cows were staked in the trees separating the court from the open field. It was kind of peaceful watching kids be kids. A threesome of Erica the counselor, her interpreter, and a grieving woman sat forefront of the games from my view. It was like a ray of sanity as the sun turned pinkish orange in the trees.
Carl and I left in the dark. He was thoroughly encouraged and uplifted. Just being able to talk openly with other pastors about his earthquake experiences - to ask questions of other pastors in the same way - really helped him understand better how to teach the pastors in his care how they can reach out in their flocks to heal and comfort. On the road, the city night life was booming. People socialized by the roadside stands for food and beverages and shoes and clothes and cell phones. Two special police in tiger stripe uniforms and black body armor and weapons directed traffic at a roundabout. Carl talked with me about the criminal element in Haiti, the Haitian mind and culture, and the temptations of arrogance and elitism in mission work. I think we ended up talking about why we are so thankful for our wives when we pulled into the guest house. We both encourage each other.
So after leftover chicken cassarole (which I'm really thankful for too) and emails I got a good cold shower (again, thankful) and headed off to mosquito net sleep.
Carl Gilles, Dan Irvine's right hand man, and I met up with Kim from YWAM Port au Prince in the morning to tour potential sites for construction and mutual team efforts by both YWAM and the Wesleyan church. We were early, but the meeting got off to a late start. By 1130 AM we were almost in Cite Soleil, one of the toughest parts of town. Five years ago it was the kidnapping capital of Haiti, but now it's relatively safe for most people to walk in the day. We met with a pastor at his church right off the road. He lives with his family in a couple of cheap tents out back of the old church structure. It's still standing, but all the other buildings used for education, cooking, and outhouses are all compromised and falling in on themselves. They meet now under a blue tarp. If they can get food, they can feed the kids who want to come to school there (all schools are private). Unfortunately, they can't keep food onsite because of the lack of a compound wall at night - it completely fell down during the quake. They need a wall first, food second, and a temporary church structure third. Not exactly how we would think it should be. I paced off the available space for a pole building and asked questions about underground utilities. Duh. There aren't any. I knew that already.
We made our way to the church where YWAM had erected the 7 hoop houses the day prior. All the personal belongings of the families were in the tents (a few mattresses, some clothes here and there, a few cooking utensils) but almost everyone was gone to town. I didn't figure out why, but the two women who stayed behind were smiling when we walked toward them. They didn't smile the day we set up the houses. Today they said Bon Soir as we left. Just another ten blocks away we visited a church holding classes in an open courtyard under an immense blue tarp. Loud fun music played as hundred or so kids were filing in, all dressed pretty neatly. Instant kid magnet, I took a couple of pictures to cover my escape. The classroom building was a pile of rubble on the west side. Steps leading up to a jumble of broken concrete. People seemed happy to see us coming and going. As we waited to get unparked (blocked by another truck), a woman washed her 6 year old boy's feet and sandals in the running gray water along the side of the street.
We managed to return Kim to the YWAM office for a meeting at 4 PM then we drove up rutted dirt tracks through Delmas into Petionville - the PaP middle class neighborhood. Kiskaya church is big, maybe five or six hundred seats, and has a pleasant campus kind of feel. Carl attended a workshop on crisis counseling hosted by an international mental health organization and a U.S. based counseling ministry through Baptist University of Texas. The meeting was conducted in Creole, so I sat outside and took notes and prayed. A few people approached to talk. There were counselors meeting with individuals to help them through the torment of the quake and the loss. One interpreter worked with each. I'm not sure who was more cheerful after each session, the person talking of their experience or the interpreter. It seems like the national load of pain is carried by everyone, and when one is lifted they are all lifted. I met Erica from Texas who had been camping in the courtyard and counseling here for two weeks. This is her last year before graduation. She's served on the mission field in the middle east for several years but saw the need for counseling in Iraq - she herself needed to work through the pain and following good care decided that biblical counseling was her calling. There's teams of a dozen or so cycling through the campus, sleeping in tents, seeing dozens of people and pastors each day.
That's when I met Innocent Charles. That's his first and last name. He asked me if I knew what that name meant. He interrupted me to tell me what the name Peter meant. I didn't buy the dodge. Innocent by the blood of the Lamb alone, I told him. He wouldn't look me in the eye when I spoke to him, but only when he spoke to me. He had been waiting since 9 AM to see a counselor. He lost two family members, but won't say which ones, in the quake. I asked him if he had trouble sleeping now. I guess two hours of sleep classifies as trouble. His home is rubble and he has no job. He does have family in Cite Soleil, but that's a bad part of town. He talked to me about prophecy - did I know that Chile and Japan had earthquakes recently? So what happens at the end of the world, I asked? He was optimistic that we who love Jesus all go to heaven, but that's as far as the eschatology train went. I listened to some other thoughts he had on encouragement from scripture during trials, which we both agreed we needed to hold on to in these last days. I grabbed a white guy who walked by hoping that it would be the one he was scheduled to see hours ago... and .... IT WAS! Thanks Lord. Innocent got his moment of relief.
A group of about thirty adolescent kids gathered in the side field to hold a bible study. They sat on folding chairs in a big circle. Afterwards they broke up in to a soccer game and half-court basketball match. Two or three cows were staked in the trees separating the court from the open field. It was kind of peaceful watching kids be kids. A threesome of Erica the counselor, her interpreter, and a grieving woman sat forefront of the games from my view. It was like a ray of sanity as the sun turned pinkish orange in the trees.
Carl and I left in the dark. He was thoroughly encouraged and uplifted. Just being able to talk openly with other pastors about his earthquake experiences - to ask questions of other pastors in the same way - really helped him understand better how to teach the pastors in his care how they can reach out in their flocks to heal and comfort. On the road, the city night life was booming. People socialized by the roadside stands for food and beverages and shoes and clothes and cell phones. Two special police in tiger stripe uniforms and black body armor and weapons directed traffic at a roundabout. Carl talked with me about the criminal element in Haiti, the Haitian mind and culture, and the temptations of arrogance and elitism in mission work. I think we ended up talking about why we are so thankful for our wives when we pulled into the guest house. We both encourage each other.
So after leftover chicken cassarole (which I'm really thankful for too) and emails I got a good cold shower (again, thankful) and headed off to mosquito net sleep.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Haiti Update 9Mar10
Hi Everyone:
We are very thankful for all the prayers that the Lord has answered. Sometimes He doesn't answer them exactly as we expect, but instead we discover He has closed one and sent us through a new door. But as we seek His direction and His will in this mission, we have to be open to His leading.
Which brings me to the next couple of prayer requests. Crazy as it seems, the Monarch ship left FL yesterday without any of our 4 containers!!!! Not only does this delay the food and tarps getting to the people for many days, this also left 2 very frustrated YWAM men in FL wondering what next? Their task had been to get the food on board the ship, then fly to PAP, get to St. Marc and begin the distribution process of the 4 containers. Knowing as we do that food is scarce, everyone is very anxious to get this food to the people of La Gonave.
Nevertheless, after much prayer and discussion between themselves, the YWAM administration and Veronica, the two men will persevere and go to Haiti, completely open to what God has planned for them. It may be that only AFTER they have done with their part in the mission and back in their homes in Montana that they will be able to see what God had in mind. This has been the story of this re-supply effort: everyone that has gone down to Haiti finds that what they had in mind was not what happened. Yet God is blessing everyone's efforts and inroads are being made, paths for the future of food distribution are being carved out, plans for housing are being investigated and hopefully hammered out, relationships are being forged and through all this our Haitian brothers and sisters are seeing that God loves them as evidenced by the efforts of their US brothers and sisters. So to God be the Glory!
The other prayer request is quite serious. There has been talk of the return of Haitian customs which means tariffs on the goods that are being shipped there. If this happens, we again need to seek guidance from our Lord: it would be a problem too big for us and yet, nothing is too big for Him. Please pray for direction and please pray that when these 4 containers do, finally, arrive in St. Marc, that we are not forced to pay a tariff. We are talking in the magnitude of thousands of dollars so this is a critical issue. Pray the Lord helps us find a way.
Praise God.
"Let all those that seek and require You rejoice and be glad in You; let such as love Your salvation say continually, the Lord be magnified!" Ps 40:16
We are very thankful for all the prayers that the Lord has answered. Sometimes He doesn't answer them exactly as we expect, but instead we discover He has closed one and sent us through a new door. But as we seek His direction and His will in this mission, we have to be open to His leading.
Which brings me to the next couple of prayer requests. Crazy as it seems, the Monarch ship left FL yesterday without any of our 4 containers!!!! Not only does this delay the food and tarps getting to the people for many days, this also left 2 very frustrated YWAM men in FL wondering what next? Their task had been to get the food on board the ship, then fly to PAP, get to St. Marc and begin the distribution process of the 4 containers. Knowing as we do that food is scarce, everyone is very anxious to get this food to the people of La Gonave.
Nevertheless, after much prayer and discussion between themselves, the YWAM administration and Veronica, the two men will persevere and go to Haiti, completely open to what God has planned for them. It may be that only AFTER they have done with their part in the mission and back in their homes in Montana that they will be able to see what God had in mind. This has been the story of this re-supply effort: everyone that has gone down to Haiti finds that what they had in mind was not what happened. Yet God is blessing everyone's efforts and inroads are being made, paths for the future of food distribution are being carved out, plans for housing are being investigated and hopefully hammered out, relationships are being forged and through all this our Haitian brothers and sisters are seeing that God loves them as evidenced by the efforts of their US brothers and sisters. So to God be the Glory!
The other prayer request is quite serious. There has been talk of the return of Haitian customs which means tariffs on the goods that are being shipped there. If this happens, we again need to seek guidance from our Lord: it would be a problem too big for us and yet, nothing is too big for Him. Please pray for direction and please pray that when these 4 containers do, finally, arrive in St. Marc, that we are not forced to pay a tariff. We are talking in the magnitude of thousands of dollars so this is a critical issue. Pray the Lord helps us find a way.
Praise God.
"Let all those that seek and require You rejoice and be glad in You; let such as love Your salvation say continually, the Lord be magnified!" Ps 40:16
Monday, March 8, 2010
Haiti Update 08MAR10
A crazy traffic day in Port au Prince, we just now got in from the field. The day started at 4:45. Caleb drove Myself, Tom and the YWAM team to the public dock where we caught the ferry from La Gonave to Carrias on the mainland. We maxed out the Nissan pickup driven by Judan and rode to the Wesleyan guesthouse in PaP - oh, and I bought some cell phone minutes from a street vendor. It was a sunny morning and I prayed for a while between conversations. The poor YWAM guys were stuck sitting on the luggage in the cage in back but we were all thankful to get out and stretch after the hour and a half ride.
Carl had coffee waiting, which hit the spot. We worked out a reasonable plan to build locally today and then in Petit Goave tomorrow. There were numerous pastors waiting for us to start building. It all seemed so rosy. So we took off and retraced our path to intercept the rest of the YWAM construction crew who were supposed to wait near the US embassy with the big truck full of tools and materials. It should be so simple, but it's not! This is Haiti.
By about 10:45 we were connected and headed out in trail to locate the building site on the south edge of town. Things I saw today: more hogs in the garbage, a road grader and three way traffic on a two lane street, a storm drainage crossing with a 28' truck, five or six dump trucks being repaired in the middle of the road (dirt), a Brazilian UN peacekeeper sweating at the entrance to the "EKO DEPOT" Home Depot store. There wasn't enough time to go all the way to Petit Goave if we wanted to because traffic was impossible. Just when we were a few blocks away we had to take a u-turn. The big truck's tail end just clipped a decrepid dump truck on the cattle grill, flipping it down. This turned into Howdy Doody crazy time in about thirty seconds. Hollering and gesturing, posturing for a better deal. There was no damage to either vehicle, but the driver had a chance to make a couple of bucks. It's just the way things go here. Please Lord, let us continue with what we were doing, please calm this guy down, please give us enough money to make him happy. I handed Carl what Haitian Gourdes I had in pocket and he waded into the fray and got us out for about $35. And everyone was shaking hands and saying Bon Jour afterward. Thanks Lord.
Just about the time we found the site, YWAM in St. Marc called to ask why we building these structures here instead of storing them for future use - our little sweater began to unravel further. So we hung around the fallen church building on a dirt back alley as Mike, the housing leader talked with several different people on the phone, trying to piece together the miscommunication. All the while about fifteen families rushed about tearing down their temporary bedsheet homes and striking the tent poles. On a flattened cardboard box I made a quick site map with approximate locations for the hoop structures and ran it by the construction team as they unloaded tools. It was already about 11:30 by this time. They wanted to start pounding stakes. The people were wondering if they could have maybe one or two more but Mike was getting the message that this event was not approved even though it had been approved... Going to Petit Goave was definitely out of the picture.
Carl, Mike and I finally got together to pray about it as we waited for a phone call from St. Marc. Someone was going to be unhappy, and we didn't know who. Mike, to his great credit finally just committed to setting five or six of the hoop stuctures up. There was no way for the team to build anywhere else before their departure on Wednsday and these people needed the structures just as badly as anyone else living under a bedsheet - it's all the same body of Christ we serve. After a few minutes of directing construction efforts and taking pictures, Mike, Carl and I felt our way around the back streets to find the YWAM PaP office. That's where we met Mr. Peterson, the director, and a couple of Americans affiliated with YWAM from Colorado Springs who were visiting to facilitate support. Carl went to speak with Mr. Peterson who technically owned the structures, Mike broke off to chat with Matt Saxton, and I spent some time talking and praying with Nick Schreifels. The end of the separate meeting resulted in some neat agreements to help fill each others gaps in ministry. Awesome!
We fought traffic, goats, broken trucks and random bad driving back to the site where the guys were about 80% complete on 7 structures! I guess they used a shoe horn to get the last one in. We got to work in our own ways and things were wrapping up by about 4 PM. It seemed like the more we hung around the more people wanted to know when we were coming back with 'the rest' of the housing. We just had to keep telling them that this is all we could do, that it was not ours to give more. They were happy, just wanted more. This seems to be the general situation all the time. We did our part and then some and so noone was unhappy. The construction team had broken a sledgehammer and the gas powered jackhammer in the process and were slightly cranky that this was all they were going to do for the day. It reminded me of young guys in the military - they have to gripe about something once in a while or all the fun is taken out of the thing. I took more pictures and pounded in a couple of stakes rather anemically, then tried to help pack things up.
Another forty five minutes in diesel choked traffic, swirling in UN vehicles and 'Tap-Tap' jeepnies crammed with people. Not much conversation by that time. I was SO glad to step into the guest house, wash my hands and face and to smell pasta and tomato sauce. A really simple meal makes so much difference at the end of the day. And it was only 4:30.
A dozen families in a small wesleyan church in town now live in something more like a permanent tent than the bedsheet shanties they had before. Praise the Lord.
Carl had coffee waiting, which hit the spot. We worked out a reasonable plan to build locally today and then in Petit Goave tomorrow. There were numerous pastors waiting for us to start building. It all seemed so rosy. So we took off and retraced our path to intercept the rest of the YWAM construction crew who were supposed to wait near the US embassy with the big truck full of tools and materials. It should be so simple, but it's not! This is Haiti.
By about 10:45 we were connected and headed out in trail to locate the building site on the south edge of town. Things I saw today: more hogs in the garbage, a road grader and three way traffic on a two lane street, a storm drainage crossing with a 28' truck, five or six dump trucks being repaired in the middle of the road (dirt), a Brazilian UN peacekeeper sweating at the entrance to the "EKO DEPOT" Home Depot store. There wasn't enough time to go all the way to Petit Goave if we wanted to because traffic was impossible. Just when we were a few blocks away we had to take a u-turn. The big truck's tail end just clipped a decrepid dump truck on the cattle grill, flipping it down. This turned into Howdy Doody crazy time in about thirty seconds. Hollering and gesturing, posturing for a better deal. There was no damage to either vehicle, but the driver had a chance to make a couple of bucks. It's just the way things go here. Please Lord, let us continue with what we were doing, please calm this guy down, please give us enough money to make him happy. I handed Carl what Haitian Gourdes I had in pocket and he waded into the fray and got us out for about $35. And everyone was shaking hands and saying Bon Jour afterward. Thanks Lord.
Just about the time we found the site, YWAM in St. Marc called to ask why we building these structures here instead of storing them for future use - our little sweater began to unravel further. So we hung around the fallen church building on a dirt back alley as Mike, the housing leader talked with several different people on the phone, trying to piece together the miscommunication. All the while about fifteen families rushed about tearing down their temporary bedsheet homes and striking the tent poles. On a flattened cardboard box I made a quick site map with approximate locations for the hoop structures and ran it by the construction team as they unloaded tools. It was already about 11:30 by this time. They wanted to start pounding stakes. The people were wondering if they could have maybe one or two more but Mike was getting the message that this event was not approved even though it had been approved... Going to Petit Goave was definitely out of the picture.
Carl, Mike and I finally got together to pray about it as we waited for a phone call from St. Marc. Someone was going to be unhappy, and we didn't know who. Mike, to his great credit finally just committed to setting five or six of the hoop stuctures up. There was no way for the team to build anywhere else before their departure on Wednsday and these people needed the structures just as badly as anyone else living under a bedsheet - it's all the same body of Christ we serve. After a few minutes of directing construction efforts and taking pictures, Mike, Carl and I felt our way around the back streets to find the YWAM PaP office. That's where we met Mr. Peterson, the director, and a couple of Americans affiliated with YWAM from Colorado Springs who were visiting to facilitate support. Carl went to speak with Mr. Peterson who technically owned the structures, Mike broke off to chat with Matt Saxton, and I spent some time talking and praying with Nick Schreifels. The end of the separate meeting resulted in some neat agreements to help fill each others gaps in ministry. Awesome!
We fought traffic, goats, broken trucks and random bad driving back to the site where the guys were about 80% complete on 7 structures! I guess they used a shoe horn to get the last one in. We got to work in our own ways and things were wrapping up by about 4 PM. It seemed like the more we hung around the more people wanted to know when we were coming back with 'the rest' of the housing. We just had to keep telling them that this is all we could do, that it was not ours to give more. They were happy, just wanted more. This seems to be the general situation all the time. We did our part and then some and so noone was unhappy. The construction team had broken a sledgehammer and the gas powered jackhammer in the process and were slightly cranky that this was all they were going to do for the day. It reminded me of young guys in the military - they have to gripe about something once in a while or all the fun is taken out of the thing. I took more pictures and pounded in a couple of stakes rather anemically, then tried to help pack things up.
Another forty five minutes in diesel choked traffic, swirling in UN vehicles and 'Tap-Tap' jeepnies crammed with people. Not much conversation by that time. I was SO glad to step into the guest house, wash my hands and face and to smell pasta and tomato sauce. A really simple meal makes so much difference at the end of the day. And it was only 4:30.
A dozen families in a small wesleyan church in town now live in something more like a permanent tent than the bedsheet shanties they had before. Praise the Lord.
Our tarps arrived
Folks, our 2300 tarps made it to Trujillo's warehouse in time and some are packed already.
That is an answer to prayer because they did not leave a warehouse in NY until Wednesday afternoon.
That is an answer to prayer because they did not leave a warehouse in NY until Wednesday afternoon.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
It's video night, take 2
Hey, Caleb and I made the last 8 seconds of a YWAM video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0-bnxQ3nnA Obviously we must have been busy discussing the merits of fudge swirl versus mint chocolate chip ice cream and clueless to our stardom. We unloaded another 24 tons into those trailers moments after the video was cut. It was loaves and fishes night at YWAM. Exactly what they handed out was replaced by new food not anticipated.
We had a restful day after trying to leave the island twice today. The lobster boat motor worked OK but the transmission failed when we got out a mile or so. We limped back in and got the fast boat going after a bunch of fooling around with tractors and boat hulks in the way. The seas by that time kicked up to 6+ foot swells and we got everyone soaked and then headed back in to the dock. So we all got cleaned up and had a worship time, ate lunch and took a nap.
I'm headed to PaP tomorrow, attempt #3, on the ferry with Tom Mehrer, two staffers and 5 of the PA construction YWAM team to see if we can set up some Hoop Houses in Petit Goave. They had a 75 unit community to set up in PaP that fell through and there are no other projects ready at this time in St. Marc. So there are 73 units in a truck waiting to be built and a crew that is chomping at the bit to build them. Praise God! Pray for things to be ready for us to build in PG, pray for discernment in the Lord's leading us.
Caleb is going to stay here and oversee distro of our small remaining stockpile with Jean Paul Donn. He will also conduct meetings with Pastor Keno and a group of other pastors who all want to make a committee to take distribution to the next level. Also, these same guys somehow got 77 tons of MRE's in PaP and are trying to bring it to La Gonave in this week. They somehow got a bigger boat, but we are planning on helping them with the Wesleyana (wooden sailing vessel with outboards). I think the lobster boat may be repairable, so please pray for that. This is a HUGE shipment to handle and distribute and we are asking for prayer that it will reach the poorest of the poor. Still lots of people who go without meals for days.
We had a restful day after trying to leave the island twice today. The lobster boat motor worked OK but the transmission failed when we got out a mile or so. We limped back in and got the fast boat going after a bunch of fooling around with tractors and boat hulks in the way. The seas by that time kicked up to 6+ foot swells and we got everyone soaked and then headed back in to the dock. So we all got cleaned up and had a worship time, ate lunch and took a nap.
I'm headed to PaP tomorrow, attempt #3, on the ferry with Tom Mehrer, two staffers and 5 of the PA construction YWAM team to see if we can set up some Hoop Houses in Petit Goave. They had a 75 unit community to set up in PaP that fell through and there are no other projects ready at this time in St. Marc. So there are 73 units in a truck waiting to be built and a crew that is chomping at the bit to build them. Praise God! Pray for things to be ready for us to build in PG, pray for discernment in the Lord's leading us.
Caleb is going to stay here and oversee distro of our small remaining stockpile with Jean Paul Donn. He will also conduct meetings with Pastor Keno and a group of other pastors who all want to make a committee to take distribution to the next level. Also, these same guys somehow got 77 tons of MRE's in PaP and are trying to bring it to La Gonave in this week. They somehow got a bigger boat, but we are planning on helping them with the Wesleyana (wooden sailing vessel with outboards). I think the lobster boat may be repairable, so please pray for that. This is a HUGE shipment to handle and distribute and we are asking for prayer that it will reach the poorest of the poor. Still lots of people who go without meals for days.
A video you may like to watch
Lori sent this along. You may recall that it was Lori who had a serious medical problem while on a mission, we all prayed for her.
Please take a look:
"Here is a video my pastor showed in church today. It is pretty powerful. It is only 3 minutes long and details the Call to Prayer on Feb 12 in Port Au Prince. It's awesome to see so many Haitians in one place worshiping the Lord. It also gives the statistic that a confirmed 101 voodoo priests got saved during the 3 day prayer and fasting. AWESOME!"
http://marcestes.com/?s=haiti
Please take a look:
"Here is a video my pastor showed in church today. It is pretty powerful. It is only 3 minutes long and details the Call to Prayer on Feb 12 in Port Au Prince. It's awesome to see so many Haitians in one place worshiping the Lord. It also gives the statistic that a confirmed 101 voodoo priests got saved during the 3 day prayer and fasting. AWESOME!"
http://marcestes.com/?s=haiti
It's video night
From Lori. BTW, the quonset type dwellings look to be very satisfactory, YWAM has been working with the owner, I believe Esbenshade Greenhouses from PA, and likes them a lot for cost and ease of setup. They are better than tents, and certainly superior to tarps.
A 40 foot conex can hold 300 shelters and they assemble quickly. Cost is about $300. Check the website, it is interesting:
http://www.esbenshades.com/Haiti/index.asp
Tom Mehrer from YWAM St. Marc came over with his entire construction crew and set up three of them for the Wesleyan Hospital in Anse-a-Galets. Our inpatients now have shelter from the rain and a safe place to recover. Pete seems really interested in them as inexpensive housing for Petit Goave, and will no doubt be discussing these as an option with Dan Irvine.
When you watch the video, you will in the last few seconds see Pete and Caleb in the near background.
Another video:
I just received an update from Terry Snow with the latest YWAM Haiti video. It shows food and clothing distribution. At the very end there is a short clip of Caleb and Pete talking in the background. It's just so great to see the two-way relationship between the Wesleyan Mission and YWAM! This one is about 5 1/2 min.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0-bnxQ3nnA
Lori
A 40 foot conex can hold 300 shelters and they assemble quickly. Cost is about $300. Check the website, it is interesting:
http://www.esbenshades.com/Haiti/index.asp
Tom Mehrer from YWAM St. Marc came over with his entire construction crew and set up three of them for the Wesleyan Hospital in Anse-a-Galets. Our inpatients now have shelter from the rain and a safe place to recover. Pete seems really interested in them as inexpensive housing for Petit Goave, and will no doubt be discussing these as an option with Dan Irvine.
When you watch the video, you will in the last few seconds see Pete and Caleb in the near background.
Another video:
I just received an update from Terry Snow with the latest YWAM Haiti video. It shows food and clothing distribution. At the very end there is a short clip of Caleb and Pete talking in the background. It's just so great to see the two-way relationship between the Wesleyan Mission and YWAM! This one is about 5 1/2 min.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0-bnxQ3nnA
Lori
Caleb - Distribution in Petite Anse:
It seems to me like I haven’t been writing updates quite often enough which probably means I have barely ever written one. Time flies by and this little world down here is very captivating – always another problem to solve, always more people to get to know. It draws you in but it also makes it hard to remember to write. That said…
This morning at 6:00AM I , Caleb, got in Pastor Keno’s car and drove to the dock with him. The breeze was stiff and cool enough to put sweat shirts on the Haitian pastors and sailors. Pastor Keno showed me the sail boat we would take, rustic enough for any other century except for the 30HP Yamaha. He asked if I still wanted to go. “Of course, Pastor, I like this boat.”
We bobbed our way Eastward along the coast for about thirty minutes, Pastor Keno, his five junior pastors or musicians, myself, and two crew. The wharf of Petite Anse is a wind battered jag of rocks jutting into the sea. We kind of nudged the bow into it and climbed across onto the rocks. Pastor “Otley” was there to meet us, many other people took note of us and sort of loitered happily around the village as we walked toward the church.
In the church about twenty five people sat, dressed mostly in white, singing hymns in Creole. I sat in the back with Pastor Keno. Suddenly, after maybe ten minutes, everyone was done singing and praying and walked slowly out of the church, two by two. This march was joined by Pastor Keno’s men, who now began playing joyful songs on their trumpets, tuba, and drums. As we walked back toward the sea hundreds more people followed, joined, or flanked us, many singing. This slow, joyful procession made it’s way out onto the rocky wharf we landed on. Pastor Keno pulled me up toward the front so I could see what was happening. Pastor “Otley” and an elder waded out into the wind and waves up to their waste, held hands and prayed together. Another elder led the people dressed in white single file into the water to the pastor and first elder. I could not understand what they were saying but we can guess, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Much singing, cheering, and even dancing by the crowd accompanied the somber ceremony in the water. I did not count how many people actually went forward, maybe twenty or thirty, but I know each one mattered in heaven and I could see that each one mattered to the crowd there, too.
The procession and music wound its way back, just as it had come but twenty yards before the church, Pastor Keno told his Musicians to stop. The crowd stopped too. He told me it was time to distribute the food we, that is, all of you, had brought. First, we would go into the church and tell the people why this food had come. They asked me to speak, which I am not good at, as many of you know by now. I did my best to tell them that this food was here because many churches in America are praying for Haiti. That those churches care about their Haitian brothers – we are brothers – and that we hope God will bless them. They all seemed to like the way Pastor Keno translated what I said, there were lots of “amens.” Whether he said what I said, only he and God know. He’s a good pastor and I think he would have the sense to edit.
We went back into the courtyard and I wish I could say that these beautiful people formed a beautiful single file line. I cannot. The distribution point was on a porch with three sides and the elders did not keep control of any side for very long. There were smiles, people not in line laughed and joked, nobody hurt anybody else. Still, to my American eye, it was nuts. Somehow they had already decided who could stand in “line” so they didn’t turn any of the women away. Instead, they all pushed their way through each other toward the four or five workers who frantically put rice, beans and oil into the random containers that the women brought. I do not understand how the workers knew who got what but they seemed to, albeit with lots of shouting and carrying on. None of this made me sad, though, it’s not even stressful to me now, having been on more than a few of these.
What did make me sad was stepping back and seeing the size of the crowd, and knowing we had only fifteen bags total to give. If I could multiply loaves and fishes I would have liked many times that. I wish I could say everyone got something but I saw, when the bags ran out, that there were plenty of people still in line. (Point of fact, according to Pastor “Otley” the town formerly had 900 people, most of whom had little or no work, but since the earthquake Petite Anse now has 1200 people. There is no real business there other than fishing and charcoal production.) Does this mean we shouldn’t bother? That we cannot do enough, so why even try? Absolutely not, we are doing what we can do, you, me, and the local church. It is God who takes care of our needs. We do what He asks of us, loving our neighbor by ministering to his need, and God uses that to answer some of the prayers here. Other prayers, He will answer in different ways. It is not ours to worry, only to obey His commands. In my opinion, when we give to our brothers in their hunger, we are loving one another.
When we were all done, done giving out our modest portions, the pastors invited me into a fine house by Petite Anse standards. On the porch Pastor “Otley” poured water out of a bowl onto my hands. They wanted to give me a special meal as an honored guest. I fumbled a bit explaining through Pastor Keno that I was honored and would love a small taste but I felt badly eating a special meal while they were all hungry. They insisted each time I did and I knew I needed to eat for courtesy sake. We all ate together, Pastor Keno, his men, Pastor “Otley,” and I. The meal was rice, beans, conch in a sauce, and they offered me a cold coca cola; how they got it cold I don’t know. I was able to leave the rice and beans for them without any impoliteness so I took only the amount of conch Pastor Keno insisted I take. It was excellent, so was the cold coke, so was the company. My creole is just barely good enough that I can make an occasional joke. An example, which was funny to them and may not be to you, was that they asked what part of the world spoke the best English. I answered New York. The question and answer were repeated several times for clarity. When this was done I told them I was from New York. I know, that doesn’t seem funny to hear, but in that room with all of our language tension, it was really funny to everyone. We finished the meal and offered many thanks to all involved.
There were a lot of goodbyes on the dock which I took very obviously to mean, “don’t forget about us.” I know that we’re trying to help a lot of people and we can only give a little to each and we can’t save everyone. Still, that logic, sound as it is, never quite answers the emotion of the moment when you are there and making friends with those people.
I’m back at base now, planning to get on with some other distributions, but I thought people might like to hear a little what it’s like.
This morning at 6:00AM I , Caleb, got in Pastor Keno’s car and drove to the dock with him. The breeze was stiff and cool enough to put sweat shirts on the Haitian pastors and sailors. Pastor Keno showed me the sail boat we would take, rustic enough for any other century except for the 30HP Yamaha. He asked if I still wanted to go. “Of course, Pastor, I like this boat.”
We bobbed our way Eastward along the coast for about thirty minutes, Pastor Keno, his five junior pastors or musicians, myself, and two crew. The wharf of Petite Anse is a wind battered jag of rocks jutting into the sea. We kind of nudged the bow into it and climbed across onto the rocks. Pastor “Otley” was there to meet us, many other people took note of us and sort of loitered happily around the village as we walked toward the church.
In the church about twenty five people sat, dressed mostly in white, singing hymns in Creole. I sat in the back with Pastor Keno. Suddenly, after maybe ten minutes, everyone was done singing and praying and walked slowly out of the church, two by two. This march was joined by Pastor Keno’s men, who now began playing joyful songs on their trumpets, tuba, and drums. As we walked back toward the sea hundreds more people followed, joined, or flanked us, many singing. This slow, joyful procession made it’s way out onto the rocky wharf we landed on. Pastor Keno pulled me up toward the front so I could see what was happening. Pastor “Otley” and an elder waded out into the wind and waves up to their waste, held hands and prayed together. Another elder led the people dressed in white single file into the water to the pastor and first elder. I could not understand what they were saying but we can guess, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Much singing, cheering, and even dancing by the crowd accompanied the somber ceremony in the water. I did not count how many people actually went forward, maybe twenty or thirty, but I know each one mattered in heaven and I could see that each one mattered to the crowd there, too.
The procession and music wound its way back, just as it had come but twenty yards before the church, Pastor Keno told his Musicians to stop. The crowd stopped too. He told me it was time to distribute the food we, that is, all of you, had brought. First, we would go into the church and tell the people why this food had come. They asked me to speak, which I am not good at, as many of you know by now. I did my best to tell them that this food was here because many churches in America are praying for Haiti. That those churches care about their Haitian brothers – we are brothers – and that we hope God will bless them. They all seemed to like the way Pastor Keno translated what I said, there were lots of “amens.” Whether he said what I said, only he and God know. He’s a good pastor and I think he would have the sense to edit.
We went back into the courtyard and I wish I could say that these beautiful people formed a beautiful single file line. I cannot. The distribution point was on a porch with three sides and the elders did not keep control of any side for very long. There were smiles, people not in line laughed and joked, nobody hurt anybody else. Still, to my American eye, it was nuts. Somehow they had already decided who could stand in “line” so they didn’t turn any of the women away. Instead, they all pushed their way through each other toward the four or five workers who frantically put rice, beans and oil into the random containers that the women brought. I do not understand how the workers knew who got what but they seemed to, albeit with lots of shouting and carrying on. None of this made me sad, though, it’s not even stressful to me now, having been on more than a few of these.
What did make me sad was stepping back and seeing the size of the crowd, and knowing we had only fifteen bags total to give. If I could multiply loaves and fishes I would have liked many times that. I wish I could say everyone got something but I saw, when the bags ran out, that there were plenty of people still in line. (Point of fact, according to Pastor “Otley” the town formerly had 900 people, most of whom had little or no work, but since the earthquake Petite Anse now has 1200 people. There is no real business there other than fishing and charcoal production.) Does this mean we shouldn’t bother? That we cannot do enough, so why even try? Absolutely not, we are doing what we can do, you, me, and the local church. It is God who takes care of our needs. We do what He asks of us, loving our neighbor by ministering to his need, and God uses that to answer some of the prayers here. Other prayers, He will answer in different ways. It is not ours to worry, only to obey His commands. In my opinion, when we give to our brothers in their hunger, we are loving one another.
When we were all done, done giving out our modest portions, the pastors invited me into a fine house by Petite Anse standards. On the porch Pastor “Otley” poured water out of a bowl onto my hands. They wanted to give me a special meal as an honored guest. I fumbled a bit explaining through Pastor Keno that I was honored and would love a small taste but I felt badly eating a special meal while they were all hungry. They insisted each time I did and I knew I needed to eat for courtesy sake. We all ate together, Pastor Keno, his men, Pastor “Otley,” and I. The meal was rice, beans, conch in a sauce, and they offered me a cold coca cola; how they got it cold I don’t know. I was able to leave the rice and beans for them without any impoliteness so I took only the amount of conch Pastor Keno insisted I take. It was excellent, so was the cold coke, so was the company. My creole is just barely good enough that I can make an occasional joke. An example, which was funny to them and may not be to you, was that they asked what part of the world spoke the best English. I answered New York. The question and answer were repeated several times for clarity. When this was done I told them I was from New York. I know, that doesn’t seem funny to hear, but in that room with all of our language tension, it was really funny to everyone. We finished the meal and offered many thanks to all involved.
There were a lot of goodbyes on the dock which I took very obviously to mean, “don’t forget about us.” I know that we’re trying to help a lot of people and we can only give a little to each and we can’t save everyone. Still, that logic, sound as it is, never quite answers the emotion of the moment when you are there and making friends with those people.
I’m back at base now, planning to get on with some other distributions, but I thought people might like to hear a little what it’s like.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Haiti Update 05MAR10
Just a quick note to follow up on yesterdays post - many people were concerned about our safety. Thank you for lifting us up in prayer and spending yourselves on our behalf. We felt, and still feel very secure in our environment here for lots of reasons that we consider regularly.
Today we retrieved the last couple of tons of peas, oats, sugar and corn meal from the Wesleyana at the dock around 11:30. There were about 30 locals hanging around, including our tractor drivers and helping hands from the mission. At least half of the onlookers were women this time, which is a change from yesterday when most of the onlookers were men looking for work and food for pay. The atmosphere was light, kids laughed and pointed. One kid lost his foam clog in the slurp of the nasty smelling mangrove water. Some other kids got scolded for leaning on a fishing boat. The workers were done in a couple of minutes.
The GUTS Church (don't know what that acronym means - apparently a compilation of churches back in the US) finally got approval to unload their roll-on-roll-off cargo ship at the same time as ours. Our estimation is about 230,000 lbs of goods left by truck and motorcycle. The public wharf, only a few hundred yards away from us, was flooded with about 200 people inside and outside the gate. Almost all the food and building materials had been unloaded and the ship prepared to disembark. The security force that helped us yesterday was present behind the gate, but the crowd was curious and peaceful. Lots of kids, women in the crowd. One kid on the wall dropped an empty milk jug and I picked it up for him. He thought it was hilarious. One new english speaking acquaintance from in town found us and talked for a few minutes. This is the same guy who had been trying to assert control of the worker roster yesterday and had acted offended when we asked him to leave the compound. It was like nothing had happened. He was really happy that even more food came to the island today. Go figure.
What made tension in the situation yesterday was the insistence of the men demanding work and our commitment to prevent any frustration that would keep us from continuing to bring food to the island. One primary reason why we cannot, simply just can't ever, hand out food ourselves is the frustration it can produce in a Haitian man who is struggling to feed his family if he thinks someone else is getting something and he isn't. And these people are accustomed to asserting themselves into a work agreement that is culturally binding although legally unfruitful. They respect resolve and need understanding and compassion. Tall order for a human being in a foreign country.
These people largely respect us and trust us, but food is food when the first social taboo is broken by a crowd. And you can't move the food around in that kind of atmosphere because it can disappear in the chaos. Things turn on a dime.
So, the end of the issue is that we weren't in danger, the food ministry was a little, and it definitely raised our own stress level. I think that was precisely what the Lord had in mind yesterday. It's still His work and we're just along to get a glimpse of how He wants to do it through us.
Today we retrieved the last couple of tons of peas, oats, sugar and corn meal from the Wesleyana at the dock around 11:30. There were about 30 locals hanging around, including our tractor drivers and helping hands from the mission. At least half of the onlookers were women this time, which is a change from yesterday when most of the onlookers were men looking for work and food for pay. The atmosphere was light, kids laughed and pointed. One kid lost his foam clog in the slurp of the nasty smelling mangrove water. Some other kids got scolded for leaning on a fishing boat. The workers were done in a couple of minutes.
The GUTS Church (don't know what that acronym means - apparently a compilation of churches back in the US) finally got approval to unload their roll-on-roll-off cargo ship at the same time as ours. Our estimation is about 230,000 lbs of goods left by truck and motorcycle. The public wharf, only a few hundred yards away from us, was flooded with about 200 people inside and outside the gate. Almost all the food and building materials had been unloaded and the ship prepared to disembark. The security force that helped us yesterday was present behind the gate, but the crowd was curious and peaceful. Lots of kids, women in the crowd. One kid on the wall dropped an empty milk jug and I picked it up for him. He thought it was hilarious. One new english speaking acquaintance from in town found us and talked for a few minutes. This is the same guy who had been trying to assert control of the worker roster yesterday and had acted offended when we asked him to leave the compound. It was like nothing had happened. He was really happy that even more food came to the island today. Go figure.
What made tension in the situation yesterday was the insistence of the men demanding work and our commitment to prevent any frustration that would keep us from continuing to bring food to the island. One primary reason why we cannot, simply just can't ever, hand out food ourselves is the frustration it can produce in a Haitian man who is struggling to feed his family if he thinks someone else is getting something and he isn't. And these people are accustomed to asserting themselves into a work agreement that is culturally binding although legally unfruitful. They respect resolve and need understanding and compassion. Tall order for a human being in a foreign country.
These people largely respect us and trust us, but food is food when the first social taboo is broken by a crowd. And you can't move the food around in that kind of atmosphere because it can disappear in the chaos. Things turn on a dime.
So, the end of the issue is that we weren't in danger, the food ministry was a little, and it definitely raised our own stress level. I think that was precisely what the Lord had in mind yesterday. It's still His work and we're just along to get a glimpse of how He wants to do it through us.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Haiti update 04MAR10
Yeah, we had a good day. Totally in the Lord's hands - right where we want to be. We did spend a good of time in prayer and praise this morning. Last night was the first time I've heard the vodun drums and chants. From dusk until about 11 PM it's either a church service or nightclub music you hear. The dogs light off once in a while too.
We didn't go on the boats today, just got ready to receive the last boatloads of CONEX 3 for pastor Keno and Jean Paul Donn. There were the biggest crowds thus far, which was kind of unnerving at times. I spent a lot of time praying on my feet. There were about 60 or so people the first time on the dock - and more trickling in. Overall they weren't hostile, but just edgy with many demanding work for food - and getting assertive about it. Some of that is cultural. Caleb did a good job consistantly explaining that we have our own helpers and don't need more, but some guys were clearly irritated and said as much in nice, clean, sharp four letter words. A couple of guys, one who we are getting to know, began angling to either provoke things or establish leadership of the crowd. No visible weapons, but a few shoulder bags that looked suspicious.
Pastor Keno finally called out a brute squad (local security thugs - refer to The Princess Bride) before for the second and third (last) trip from the dock to the compound. One of the WISH employees called the police but were told they were 'busy'. Read: 'to busy to get thumped by a mob'. You see another big boat from another church showed up on Tuesday, the day of the boat fire, and the reluctance of the port authority to release that load caused two loud and angry demonstrations, one of which ended at the police station in town (only one gun present at each). I think the cops found other things to do. Anyway, the crowds didn't hang around in the same numbers once bubba showed up: 35 the second trip and 25 the third trip. In the end, there was never any violence or chanting mobs. Kids still smiled and yelled 'blanc' when we drove by, hoping for a smile back.
Our nice thugs with huge biceps, black t-shirts and mirrored sunglasses cost us ten bags of rice - a lot of money down here. Unfortunately, we had to hurt some feelings to keep the wanna-be workers off the compound for the unloading and storage evolution. It's critical that only a few and totally trustworthy guys work with us to stack the stuff into our living quarters (there's nowhere else to put it yet). There's a lot of temptation sitting here. And we simply cannot give out any food by ourselves to individuals or the whole mission is compromised by endless accusations and demands. We have about 5 tons of beans, flour, corn meal, cooking oil and sugar in our living room right now. When we get some more rice locally Jean Paul Donn will disribute it via the local civil organization network.
This place is still beyond depressed economically. A sad point to this effect is the orange tinged hair of the kids living in the Saline and remote areas and the malnutrition cases that regularly come through the hospital. One really sad situation is the three year old boy who Christian, our french nurse housemate, became attached to when he was admitted on Tuesday. The poor kid was so malnurished and anemic that he barely had a pulse. But he didn't respond to treatment and died this morning. Christian and I prayed together - it was really hard for him. A stupid reason for one little boy to die.
But we are pressing on. One bit of good news discovered today is that the price of rice on the island has fallen considerably since last week. Perhaps trade into PaP is finally catching up with demand and/or our little trickle into the local economy has made some effect. We'll never know for sure. But this means more people can afford to eat rice anyway. Beans still cost double here compared to what it costs us to send it. Another cool bit of news is the digital and solar powered audio bibles that are enroute via our YWAM guys coming down next week. Plus the m&m's they'll bring.
Our desire is to gracefully get out of the food business as soon as the Lord lets us. There are several obvious routes to take. We have examined the UN-WFP route and wonder of the wisdom of that. It takes handouts and legitimizes them by requiring all people who want food to provide identification (to prevent fraud, aid in planning). It promotes the handout economy and culture which really stinks. Our preferred next step to helping the economy and minimizing our footprint here is to make direct purchase of rice delivered to the distributors on the island via a trustworthy partner - kind of the way ahead to becoming invisible. Our present obstacles to this are the details of finance transactions and regulations.
Thanks for your prayers folks. We never get tired of saying that. It's everything.
PT
We didn't go on the boats today, just got ready to receive the last boatloads of CONEX 3 for pastor Keno and Jean Paul Donn. There were the biggest crowds thus far, which was kind of unnerving at times. I spent a lot of time praying on my feet. There were about 60 or so people the first time on the dock - and more trickling in. Overall they weren't hostile, but just edgy with many demanding work for food - and getting assertive about it. Some of that is cultural. Caleb did a good job consistantly explaining that we have our own helpers and don't need more, but some guys were clearly irritated and said as much in nice, clean, sharp four letter words. A couple of guys, one who we are getting to know, began angling to either provoke things or establish leadership of the crowd. No visible weapons, but a few shoulder bags that looked suspicious.
Pastor Keno finally called out a brute squad (local security thugs - refer to The Princess Bride) before for the second and third (last) trip from the dock to the compound. One of the WISH employees called the police but were told they were 'busy'. Read: 'to busy to get thumped by a mob'. You see another big boat from another church showed up on Tuesday, the day of the boat fire, and the reluctance of the port authority to release that load caused two loud and angry demonstrations, one of which ended at the police station in town (only one gun present at each). I think the cops found other things to do. Anyway, the crowds didn't hang around in the same numbers once bubba showed up: 35 the second trip and 25 the third trip. In the end, there was never any violence or chanting mobs. Kids still smiled and yelled 'blanc' when we drove by, hoping for a smile back.
Our nice thugs with huge biceps, black t-shirts and mirrored sunglasses cost us ten bags of rice - a lot of money down here. Unfortunately, we had to hurt some feelings to keep the wanna-be workers off the compound for the unloading and storage evolution. It's critical that only a few and totally trustworthy guys work with us to stack the stuff into our living quarters (there's nowhere else to put it yet). There's a lot of temptation sitting here. And we simply cannot give out any food by ourselves to individuals or the whole mission is compromised by endless accusations and demands. We have about 5 tons of beans, flour, corn meal, cooking oil and sugar in our living room right now. When we get some more rice locally Jean Paul Donn will disribute it via the local civil organization network.
This place is still beyond depressed economically. A sad point to this effect is the orange tinged hair of the kids living in the Saline and remote areas and the malnutrition cases that regularly come through the hospital. One really sad situation is the three year old boy who Christian, our french nurse housemate, became attached to when he was admitted on Tuesday. The poor kid was so malnurished and anemic that he barely had a pulse. But he didn't respond to treatment and died this morning. Christian and I prayed together - it was really hard for him. A stupid reason for one little boy to die.
But we are pressing on. One bit of good news discovered today is that the price of rice on the island has fallen considerably since last week. Perhaps trade into PaP is finally catching up with demand and/or our little trickle into the local economy has made some effect. We'll never know for sure. But this means more people can afford to eat rice anyway. Beans still cost double here compared to what it costs us to send it. Another cool bit of news is the digital and solar powered audio bibles that are enroute via our YWAM guys coming down next week. Plus the m&m's they'll bring.
Our desire is to gracefully get out of the food business as soon as the Lord lets us. There are several obvious routes to take. We have examined the UN-WFP route and wonder of the wisdom of that. It takes handouts and legitimizes them by requiring all people who want food to provide identification (to prevent fraud, aid in planning). It promotes the handout economy and culture which really stinks. Our preferred next step to helping the economy and minimizing our footprint here is to make direct purchase of rice delivered to the distributors on the island via a trustworthy partner - kind of the way ahead to becoming invisible. Our present obstacles to this are the details of finance transactions and regulations.
Thanks for your prayers folks. We never get tired of saying that. It's everything.
PT
Haiti Update 03MAR10
Kind of busy couple of days swept through.
You might have heard about the boat fire. If you didn't, go to the blog - Caleb got a pretty good blow by blow posted. All except for the part about Navy Commander blah blah blah. I don't know anything about boats. But don't tell him that.
Once stranded we prayed about our choices. We both felt really crummy. Lots of smoke and dust inhalation. No way to help the guys get the next batch of food across the channel. It sure seemed like a good idea for us to head up to St. Marc to see the YWAM guys and find some information about long term food and short term housing. But we didn't have a ride, so we prayed and asked the Lord to provide the wheels if we were to go. In five minutes our fuel and trucking partner in business, Chris Nezivar, showed up to check on his trucking crew. He was headed to St. Marc and told us to hop in. As it turned out, we stopped at his gas station for a few minutes. Caleb got a Coke and felt better. I ate a little and got better slowly. We talked with some Argentine soldiers about the UN food program. Pretty soon Chris started up our next ride - a fuel truck - and we bounced down the road and talked about Haiti, business, and Boston traffic as we literally dodged overloaded buses.
YWAM's front gate was packed with people. There was a line of a few hundred snaking around into the street. We drove past the distribution line and Chris dropped us off at the side gate with our gear. It felt like it was at least a hundred degrees. Tom Mehrer, the assistant director for the past 7 weeks, was super helpful in getting us plugged into a place to sleep and a way to help out. We helped distribute food to pastors who came from all over with trucks. In the process we found a great prospect for temporary housing - http://www.esbenshades.com/Haiti/index.asp - and finally discovered how Tom got free food from the UN-WFP to distribute through YWAM. This was a gold mine in terms of knowledge for us and his help saved us days of research. Just when the pastors were leaving and we began wandering to our borrowed tents, Tom gathered us and ten other young YWAM guys to tell us that two more trucks were coming to replenish the trailers that we had just emptied. Two trucks of 12 tons that is. Each pulled up one after the other as fast as we could unload them and stack the rice and beans. Talk about dragging yourself home.
We got showered, praise God, and had a decent meal of rice, bean sauce, chicken and chopped fresh carrot. I think we stayed awake that night for all of 10 minutes but woke up around midnight to the stupid dogs that seem to cover Haiti. It was a full moon and they just wouldn't quit. I think they shut the chorus down around 3 AM and the roosters kicked in. The ground was hard but I had a pair of shorts for a pillow so it worked out OK. At least we didn't get eaten by mosquitos. When we got moving around 6 AM, they actually had coffee to drink at the dining area. Worship started at 7 and when we were wrapping up Chris's truckers were there watching and ready to get to work. Another 12 tons of rice, yellow peas, and corn meal. A loud rumbling earthquake rolled through around 8:30, but it didn't move much. We rode with them to Kwalili where the boats were supposed to be waiting for us. Along the way we saw a black and tan goat, lying down on the dented roof of a black mazda pickup without a bed or wheels. The truck rested in the dirt spanning a drainage canal along the side of the road.
Butch was completely covered in motor oil when we hopped onto the Breezy Sea. The motor, it turns out, isn't totally ruined. Just a bunch of fire damaged hoses and wiring, but the engine actually runs. Must have been a broken return fuel line that sprayed on the turbocharger or something. That was a praiseworthy moment - we had been praying for that since it caught fire. It took a long time to load the wooden sloop Wesleyana and the Boston whaler WISH Fish because of their configurations. We also made multiple trips to town to buy parts (getting any mechanical parts here is a nightmare) and food for the guys. I drove this time, and didn't kill anyone so all the hired hands thought I was cool. Plus, we bought lunch. Double cool.
Back at the ranch, with a mattress, clean laundry and gatorade from mix, life is much better. Even email! Tomorrow we're considering splitting up to monitor distribution and help Butch finish repairs on the Breezy Sea. Not sure. We'll pray tonight and decide tomorrow.
PT
Thanks for praying for us. Keep the people here in prayer - so many without shelter on the mainland, so many here who are just barely getting enough to eat.
Pete Thompson
You might have heard about the boat fire. If you didn't, go to the blog - Caleb got a pretty good blow by blow posted. All except for the part about Navy Commander blah blah blah. I don't know anything about boats. But don't tell him that.
Once stranded we prayed about our choices. We both felt really crummy. Lots of smoke and dust inhalation. No way to help the guys get the next batch of food across the channel. It sure seemed like a good idea for us to head up to St. Marc to see the YWAM guys and find some information about long term food and short term housing. But we didn't have a ride, so we prayed and asked the Lord to provide the wheels if we were to go. In five minutes our fuel and trucking partner in business, Chris Nezivar, showed up to check on his trucking crew. He was headed to St. Marc and told us to hop in. As it turned out, we stopped at his gas station for a few minutes. Caleb got a Coke and felt better. I ate a little and got better slowly. We talked with some Argentine soldiers about the UN food program. Pretty soon Chris started up our next ride - a fuel truck - and we bounced down the road and talked about Haiti, business, and Boston traffic as we literally dodged overloaded buses.
YWAM's front gate was packed with people. There was a line of a few hundred snaking around into the street. We drove past the distribution line and Chris dropped us off at the side gate with our gear. It felt like it was at least a hundred degrees. Tom Mehrer, the assistant director for the past 7 weeks, was super helpful in getting us plugged into a place to sleep and a way to help out. We helped distribute food to pastors who came from all over with trucks. In the process we found a great prospect for temporary housing - http://www.esbenshades.com/Haiti/index.asp - and finally discovered how Tom got free food from the UN-WFP to distribute through YWAM. This was a gold mine in terms of knowledge for us and his help saved us days of research. Just when the pastors were leaving and we began wandering to our borrowed tents, Tom gathered us and ten other young YWAM guys to tell us that two more trucks were coming to replenish the trailers that we had just emptied. Two trucks of 12 tons that is. Each pulled up one after the other as fast as we could unload them and stack the rice and beans. Talk about dragging yourself home.
We got showered, praise God, and had a decent meal of rice, bean sauce, chicken and chopped fresh carrot. I think we stayed awake that night for all of 10 minutes but woke up around midnight to the stupid dogs that seem to cover Haiti. It was a full moon and they just wouldn't quit. I think they shut the chorus down around 3 AM and the roosters kicked in. The ground was hard but I had a pair of shorts for a pillow so it worked out OK. At least we didn't get eaten by mosquitos. When we got moving around 6 AM, they actually had coffee to drink at the dining area. Worship started at 7 and when we were wrapping up Chris's truckers were there watching and ready to get to work. Another 12 tons of rice, yellow peas, and corn meal. A loud rumbling earthquake rolled through around 8:30, but it didn't move much. We rode with them to Kwalili where the boats were supposed to be waiting for us. Along the way we saw a black and tan goat, lying down on the dented roof of a black mazda pickup without a bed or wheels. The truck rested in the dirt spanning a drainage canal along the side of the road.
Butch was completely covered in motor oil when we hopped onto the Breezy Sea. The motor, it turns out, isn't totally ruined. Just a bunch of fire damaged hoses and wiring, but the engine actually runs. Must have been a broken return fuel line that sprayed on the turbocharger or something. That was a praiseworthy moment - we had been praying for that since it caught fire. It took a long time to load the wooden sloop Wesleyana and the Boston whaler WISH Fish because of their configurations. We also made multiple trips to town to buy parts (getting any mechanical parts here is a nightmare) and food for the guys. I drove this time, and didn't kill anyone so all the hired hands thought I was cool. Plus, we bought lunch. Double cool.
Back at the ranch, with a mattress, clean laundry and gatorade from mix, life is much better. Even email! Tomorrow we're considering splitting up to monitor distribution and help Butch finish repairs on the Breezy Sea. Not sure. We'll pray tonight and decide tomorrow.
PT
Thanks for praying for us. Keep the people here in prayer - so many without shelter on the mainland, so many here who are just barely getting enough to eat.
Pete Thompson
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
What Happened on the Breezy Sea
Folks, this is Caleb's update. Long story short, we are grateful for God's protection for all on board. The engine is now running ok, praise God, and just melted items such as wiring needs to be replaced. Yesterday we thought it was a thrown rod, broken piston, or something causing significant internal damage to the motor. Thank you for your prayers.
Yesterday was a tough day but it started like the rest. PT and I got up at about six to pray quickly, make coffee, grab a stale biscuit and meet Butch. The plan was for the two of us to run the lobster boat without Butch for the first time. Every pound of food we bring to the island comes by small boat, either the lobster boat Breezy Sea or the sailboat with outboards, the Wesleyana. The latter is run by an all Haitian crew but the Breezy Sea is required by local law and preferred by base leadership to be in the command of a North American. So, PT and I had done some training and were off on our first run alone.
I took the helm for the way over, figuring PT could have it on the return when it was loaded and required more skill. Pete Thompson, aka “PT”, is my uncle and wingman down here since Josh and Andy are gone. He and his church have contributed enormously to this ministry. (They funded the second container alone, among other things.) PT is also a former Navy Commander so running a lobster boat is well inside his ability.
The sea on the way over was the worst I have driven in myself, maybe five foot swells consistently with six or seven footers occasionally. One seeks to drive into waves or to follow them, of course, but the difficulty yesterday morning was that the length of the waves ran parallel our course. This forced me to drive thirty degrees off course, making a long trip with a lot of steering much longer. The crew complained often that we were so far off course but PT reassured me that I was quite correct to drive a big triangle to avoid taking the waves broadside. At last, within a bit under a mile from shore the waves calmed enough for us to change course and drive following them, roughly toward our destination. No more wash over the front deck and spray onto the windshield, no more way up on the crest and crash! down into the trough; almost there and glad for it.
Suddenly, without warning, the noise of the engine surged in our ears. We had been at a constant 2300 rpm’s, constant temperature, constant oil pressure. In a heartbeat the engine roared to maybe 3000 with load clanging and a great plume of black smoke. Before my mind realized what was happening I cut the throttle and a second later cut power. Turning around, it’s frozen in my mind, there were knee high flames roaring out of the engine compartment into our cabin. This was a fire of intensity, burning fuel with plenty of air, not the soft crackle of kindling or campfire.
Immediately in front of me were two fire extinguishers laying on a pile of tarps and boxes. I yelled to PT, “Fire!” and tossed him one of them. The cabin was already filled with thick black smoke. I jumped out the port door to the rear, PT the starboard. Now 5 seconds have passed. We both struggled for another second to get the stupid pins pulled, then wheeled back in simultaneously and fired at the base of the flames where they came out of the deck. White, vile soot, billows of smoke.
“Where’s that woman?!” I was referring to a passenger. PT yelled back that she was at the stern. He yelled again into the smoke if anyone was in the cabin below the bow. The noise of flames sounded back, but everyone was out and the crew was staying out of our way. Now maybe 10 seconds had passed. I asked out loud for the Lord to help us and ran back in. It was probably pointless to shoot at the deck where the flames were coming out of the gaps around the hatch but I did one more time. I ran out to grab a breath then crawled back in to try to open the hatch. No good, choked and had to leave. PT shot some more, I think. I asked God for help again, “God, please, give us a hand here!” (Not the most eloquent prayer, I suppose.)
And here’s where God really showed His presence. I crawled back in. PT had thrown the tarp and garbage out of the way. Good move because now I could see a one inch hole in the deck right above the fire and the engine. I laid on my stomach and shot my entire extinguisher into it. I learned later that PT did the same thing. We’re not sure who shot there first but we are sure from examination later that the hole in the deck was in the perfect place over the spraying fuel and source of the fire. No more flames, anywhere.
I can’t say at this point how many minutes had passed, probably only a couple but it doesn’t feel like it in my memory. I asked Bernard, one of the Haitians and a good man, to grab some buckets of water in case of a flare up. Our extinguishers were all but spent, only PT thought to save any at all. (I guess I should only get how many bullets people want me to shoot.) I did not communicate my thought very well and they opened the engine hatch and poured the buckets straight in. In hindsight they were right to do so, a little corrosion is a small price to pay for the last few embers out.
The smoke started to clear a little so I held my breath and grabbed our packs out of the cabin. God saved us. The fire was put out. PT called us all into a circle, hands on shoulders. I was so smoked and sweated up that I couldn’t stand as the boat rolled and drifted, only the people in the circle next to me made it so I could stand. What we prayed there was a real prayer. I don’t remember exactly what PT started with or if I prayed out loud myself but we meant it. Thank you, Lord, for saving us and our boat. Praise God for His deliverance. Praise our God who hears us. (Even when we pray things like, “God, give us a hand.”) Praise God for making every second count. Thank you Lord that you never let anything happen to us that isn’t in your control. We see your hand in this Lord. We see how you are with us.
Pretty soon after, the Wesleyana came to tow us the last half mile to the wharf on the mainland. I don’t know, but I imagine that they saw our smoke. For me, at this point, the smoke and “purple K” as PT calls the extinguisher fog, was making me pretty sick. I’d breathed in a good bunch of lungfulls by accident in the fight. PT said the same for him. Honestly, I felt like wet pasta for about an hour, just kind of hanging on the sail boom as we plodded toward docking. A few hours and a coca-cola fixed me up, though, so no harm done. PT was better after a couple three hours later, as well. We even went to spend the night in St Marc so that we could throw 36 tons of rice with Ywam.
The afterword on the boat, as we know it so far, is that the boat is not too badly damaged by fire and engine is not destroyed. It looks as if tomorrow we, being us but especially Butch, will just need to replace some wiring and tubing. At the same time, we could see just how close that fire really came to destroying the boat and forcing us to swim. It was the return fuel line that had been broken somehow and sprayed fuel onto the super heated exhaust pipe. If the supply line had only a few more degrees, it too would have bled into the fire and from there we would have had no recourse as if fed the fire bigger and bigger. Once again, see God’s awesome mercy.
I hope, in writing this, even if I have conveyed the excitement of the moment, I have made the only point I wanted to make. That point is how trustworthy our Lord is, that we can cry out to Him and He will save us. He has shown this to us yet again. I praise Him for that.
HS.
Caleb Thompson
Yesterday was a tough day but it started like the rest. PT and I got up at about six to pray quickly, make coffee, grab a stale biscuit and meet Butch. The plan was for the two of us to run the lobster boat without Butch for the first time. Every pound of food we bring to the island comes by small boat, either the lobster boat Breezy Sea or the sailboat with outboards, the Wesleyana. The latter is run by an all Haitian crew but the Breezy Sea is required by local law and preferred by base leadership to be in the command of a North American. So, PT and I had done some training and were off on our first run alone.
I took the helm for the way over, figuring PT could have it on the return when it was loaded and required more skill. Pete Thompson, aka “PT”, is my uncle and wingman down here since Josh and Andy are gone. He and his church have contributed enormously to this ministry. (They funded the second container alone, among other things.) PT is also a former Navy Commander so running a lobster boat is well inside his ability.
The sea on the way over was the worst I have driven in myself, maybe five foot swells consistently with six or seven footers occasionally. One seeks to drive into waves or to follow them, of course, but the difficulty yesterday morning was that the length of the waves ran parallel our course. This forced me to drive thirty degrees off course, making a long trip with a lot of steering much longer. The crew complained often that we were so far off course but PT reassured me that I was quite correct to drive a big triangle to avoid taking the waves broadside. At last, within a bit under a mile from shore the waves calmed enough for us to change course and drive following them, roughly toward our destination. No more wash over the front deck and spray onto the windshield, no more way up on the crest and crash! down into the trough; almost there and glad for it.
Suddenly, without warning, the noise of the engine surged in our ears. We had been at a constant 2300 rpm’s, constant temperature, constant oil pressure. In a heartbeat the engine roared to maybe 3000 with load clanging and a great plume of black smoke. Before my mind realized what was happening I cut the throttle and a second later cut power. Turning around, it’s frozen in my mind, there were knee high flames roaring out of the engine compartment into our cabin. This was a fire of intensity, burning fuel with plenty of air, not the soft crackle of kindling or campfire.
Immediately in front of me were two fire extinguishers laying on a pile of tarps and boxes. I yelled to PT, “Fire!” and tossed him one of them. The cabin was already filled with thick black smoke. I jumped out the port door to the rear, PT the starboard. Now 5 seconds have passed. We both struggled for another second to get the stupid pins pulled, then wheeled back in simultaneously and fired at the base of the flames where they came out of the deck. White, vile soot, billows of smoke.
“Where’s that woman?!” I was referring to a passenger. PT yelled back that she was at the stern. He yelled again into the smoke if anyone was in the cabin below the bow. The noise of flames sounded back, but everyone was out and the crew was staying out of our way. Now maybe 10 seconds had passed. I asked out loud for the Lord to help us and ran back in. It was probably pointless to shoot at the deck where the flames were coming out of the gaps around the hatch but I did one more time. I ran out to grab a breath then crawled back in to try to open the hatch. No good, choked and had to leave. PT shot some more, I think. I asked God for help again, “God, please, give us a hand here!” (Not the most eloquent prayer, I suppose.)
And here’s where God really showed His presence. I crawled back in. PT had thrown the tarp and garbage out of the way. Good move because now I could see a one inch hole in the deck right above the fire and the engine. I laid on my stomach and shot my entire extinguisher into it. I learned later that PT did the same thing. We’re not sure who shot there first but we are sure from examination later that the hole in the deck was in the perfect place over the spraying fuel and source of the fire. No more flames, anywhere.
I can’t say at this point how many minutes had passed, probably only a couple but it doesn’t feel like it in my memory. I asked Bernard, one of the Haitians and a good man, to grab some buckets of water in case of a flare up. Our extinguishers were all but spent, only PT thought to save any at all. (I guess I should only get how many bullets people want me to shoot.) I did not communicate my thought very well and they opened the engine hatch and poured the buckets straight in. In hindsight they were right to do so, a little corrosion is a small price to pay for the last few embers out.
The smoke started to clear a little so I held my breath and grabbed our packs out of the cabin. God saved us. The fire was put out. PT called us all into a circle, hands on shoulders. I was so smoked and sweated up that I couldn’t stand as the boat rolled and drifted, only the people in the circle next to me made it so I could stand. What we prayed there was a real prayer. I don’t remember exactly what PT started with or if I prayed out loud myself but we meant it. Thank you, Lord, for saving us and our boat. Praise God for His deliverance. Praise our God who hears us. (Even when we pray things like, “God, give us a hand.”) Praise God for making every second count. Thank you Lord that you never let anything happen to us that isn’t in your control. We see your hand in this Lord. We see how you are with us.
Pretty soon after, the Wesleyana came to tow us the last half mile to the wharf on the mainland. I don’t know, but I imagine that they saw our smoke. For me, at this point, the smoke and “purple K” as PT calls the extinguisher fog, was making me pretty sick. I’d breathed in a good bunch of lungfulls by accident in the fight. PT said the same for him. Honestly, I felt like wet pasta for about an hour, just kind of hanging on the sail boom as we plodded toward docking. A few hours and a coca-cola fixed me up, though, so no harm done. PT was better after a couple three hours later, as well. We even went to spend the night in St Marc so that we could throw 36 tons of rice with Ywam.
The afterword on the boat, as we know it so far, is that the boat is not too badly damaged by fire and engine is not destroyed. It looks as if tomorrow we, being us but especially Butch, will just need to replace some wiring and tubing. At the same time, we could see just how close that fire really came to destroying the boat and forcing us to swim. It was the return fuel line that had been broken somehow and sprayed fuel onto the super heated exhaust pipe. If the supply line had only a few more degrees, it too would have bled into the fire and from there we would have had no recourse as if fed the fire bigger and bigger. Once again, see God’s awesome mercy.
I hope, in writing this, even if I have conveyed the excitement of the moment, I have made the only point I wanted to make. That point is how trustworthy our Lord is, that we can cry out to Him and He will save us. He has shown this to us yet again. I praise Him for that.
HS.
Caleb Thompson
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