Return to the Middle and Other Places in Haiti

Our day began at 3am. We loaded the Cessna 337 with as much relief supplies as we could. The Ti Bourik (little donkey) can carry a nice load, especially when its passengers limit their personal items to just a small soft backpack. Five hours of circulation impeding immobility later, we saw the mountains of Haiti come into view through the hazy mist.

Intense heat followed by waves of dust infused, fly infested humidity welcomed us back to Haiti. No matter how long I am gone, once back in Port Au Prince, the stark reality of hardship and suffering that is Haiti comes down on me like a thick, old blanket, smothering and inescapable, yet familiar.



Nothing is easy in Haiti. Nothing goes as planned. We had a reservation at a car rental agency at the airport. After paying the deposit and filling out the forms, we discovered that the person with keys to all of the cars was not available. An hour later, we decided to change agencies and found ourselves in a better car with a better rate so, our thankful team piled in.



We had deluxe accommodations at Ruuska Village. Joe, Cindy and Juliet together in the small tent on a piece of plywood. I am still afraid to sleep under concrete in Haiti. I have seen too much. A prompt rooster made sure we did not oversleep. He started his reveille at 4am.



We revisited our friends in the middle of the road in Carrefour carrying boxes of prepackaged rice and soy meals. Again the people were so grateful. We were able to check up on little Catastrophe, now 6 months old. His mother told me it was her brother that had thought to name her son to commemorate his birth which had taken place under a sheet in the middle of the road just a few hours after the January 12, 2010 earthquake.



His dredlocked father, Nemorin MacKenzy was as helpful as ever in passing out the food. His only request; to help him find a job. This plea was repeated everywhere we went in Haiti. The people want to work. They want to do something to get themselves back on their feet and independent.



In the tent cities, life is hanging on the edge almost as bad as in the middle of the road. Their water supply is becoming inadequate for the swelling numbers. Children are hungry. Mothers are unable to make enough milk to nourish their infants.



Elda had given birth to a tiny girl named Kathy back in February. When I spoke with her, it was evident that she was starving. And so was her baby. This is one of those situations that although I know is repeating itself countless times all over Haiti, had become personal. I could not forget about her. Before we left, we stopped at a Haitian style grocery store and got her a supply of rice, beans, milk, oil and fish. We only wished there were enough for everyone.




Along with some American short term missionaries, we held an impromptu worship service in one of the tent cities. The Haitians love to sing and pray. How gracious they were to pull tables and chairs out of their tents so that we could be comfortable, even in the rubble.



An outdoor clinic was done where I saw quite a few cases of skin infections, TB, malnutrition, colds, and malaria.



About 70 pairs of shoes were given out to very grateful recipients!We also distributed a great amount of hygiene supplies and multivitamins.





Joe was able to deploy a Voyager in the MBD tent city where their only source of water was a small dark hole in the ground. The village leaders promised to take good care of the water machine.



Images of my brave brothers and sisters in Haiti continue to give me sleepless nights and disturbing dreams when sleep does come. My first day back in my office found me sitting mindlessly at my computer begging God to show me how to get help for Haiti. Is it with coffee sales (www.elevationscafe.com), water purifier sales, speaking engagements, book signings, facebook or twitter? I do not know the answer. I fall on my face before the God who sees all. And with my eyes closed I see Haiti...