Back in Haiti

Flying over the northwestern coast of Haiti I look down and once again realize that our planet is fragile. Instead of lush green tropical rainforest,  barren land is being stripped of what little soil remains and is being washed into the Caribbean Sea, turning the blue coastal waters an ugly brown.

Thankfully the cancerous spread of deforestation has not spread completely across the country. But vast areas are virtually lifeless, except for the people who have no place left to go; people with few choices, their only concerns are daily survival.

Landing in Port au Prince, my concern is our luggage. We booked our flight late, were the last group to board and our carryon luggage was taken and checked because the overhead bins were full. Our seats were in the rear of the plane and we were the last to disembark, the last through customs, and the last to reach baggage claim. The last time I was in this situation my luggage was rifled. I lost my cell phone and my jump-drive for internet access.

When we reached the baggage claim area, Denise went to the carousal while I went to retrieve a cart. I was immediately joined by a man insisting on helping. That’s OK, juggling for a spot next to the carousal and off-loading our two large checked bags, two large duffels and two carry-on bags, and getting them to Denise and the cart is difficult.  As soon as we were loaded and ready to clear customs, my new found friend told me I needed to tip him now, and that I would not have to pay anyone outside. I told him that was a lie, I know better. He asked me how much I was going to give him. I told him $8, and he said $10. I told him that I was here to help his country and that I would not give him money that can feed children, if he didn’t think that was enough; I could do without his help. He took the 8 bucks.

When we cleared customs, after a stop to buy new sim cards for our phones, I was overwhelmed with men grabbing my cart to push it to the parking lot. Whewww, this gets old. Thankfully someone was waiting for us from the guest house, Matthew 25. He was so helpful that he got $10.

Believe it or not, this is an improvement over past years. Welcome to Haiti.

When we have teams come in, we make sure that they are met to avoid these kinds of experiences.

We arrived in Garcin Wednesday. As Typical, a few problems awaited us; this time no water, problems with our phones and internet, and the solar system is not working. At least now we are able to take it all in stride. We carried buckets of water from the courtyard until Thursday night when the water was restored. The electricity, not so easy. I think that something may be wrong with the charge controller or inverter. But, that is above my skill set. I am trying to locate a qualified technician. That is not easy either. In the mean time we are running the generator when it gets dark. We run it until bed time.

Thursday night, just as we were setting down for supper, Fr. Gracia arrived to greet us. After we ate, Fr. Gracia asked me to help him drive his truck up to our apartment. Recent rains have partially washed out the short road to our compound. As we walked down to where his truck was parked I could hear angry voices. Our friend Johnny was trying to drive the truck up short rise that is always difficult. He was trying to get the gathering crowd to help push the truck over this spot and people were arguing about helping. As often the case, there are people that have still not accepted the changing of priest, and that group was complaining that if our previous priest was still here, he would have cemented this difficult spot and they did not want anyone to help. The just wanted to complain and cause trouble. They neglect to remember that he was here for 16 years and did not fix it.

Johnny tried several times, but was unsuccessful. As the crowd got angry, Fr. Gracia decided it would be best if he returned to Gros Morne. At that point I told Johnny to let me try. I do have a lot of experience with this spot. I also was unsuccessful and kept having to back up and try again. The people began shouting, not necessarily nice things, and I became angry. I turned off the truck and stood on top and banged the hood and called for quiet. It worked.  I then discovered that my Creole is better than I thought. I asked the people if they wanted us to leave, and the crowd shouted “NO”.  I told them that I came to help them, and now I needed their help. Suddenly the crowd got behind the truck and helped push the truck up the hill! When we got to the top they cheered.