The weekend started early on a Friday morning, wrestling four plastic foot lockers full of school supplies and other needed items. However, upon arrival at the very busy ticket counter, we were promptly told we couldn't check those types of items. Then it was a mad scramble to purchase four huge duffel bags (from another charity, oddly enough, who was selling them via American Airlines for just such a reason as this!) and transfer everything that had been so carefully packed. Of course, all of the crayons exited their boxes and resulted in a stew of crayola, pencils, pens and erasers at the bottom of the bags!
Otherwise the trip was uneventful, and we arrived without incident at the Port au Prince airport in the heat of the day. Standing in the parking lot, the daily storm was moving in as we
looked up into the hills from the trees that swayed so violently over us during the earthquake. This was our view on January 12 - the dust from crumbling buildings rising in the distance.And there he was. Pastor Val standing proudly with his new truck that our friends helped purchase. It is a black Great Wall, a Chinese-made diesel 4X4 pick-up, with seats for 5. He was so excited to finally be driving it, and we were thrilled to be the beneficiaries of its virtues: air conditioning, windows that actually operate, a dashboard whose warning lights don't stay lit constantly. Reliable transportation amidst the assaults of exhaust, heat humidity, filth and dust. Hallelujah!
We headed out toward Leogane, driving around the cracks in the road created by the shaking earth. We picked up a friend from back home, Katie, who is living in Carrefour for the summer and made our way out of the city's chaos and into the green of the countryside. The storm was fast approaching as we left the main road and took the muddy trail up to the orphanage.
There was a joyous reunion when we arrived, but it was short-lived as we were
warned to get back to the main road as quickly as possible, as the rain would certainly raise the nearby river to wash out the "road," trapping us behind it. Though only about four in the afternoon, the sky was dark with clouds. The lightening was terrifying as it flashed all around us, with no real place to hide. Lightening and thunder were simultaneous and the children covered their ears in fear. Even I, who am a fan of storms, was feeling a little vulnerable. We left for the twenty-minute ride in the pouring rain for the guest house, where we would enjoy a bed, a shower and a roof over our heads. It all became incredibly real at that moment. We had to get those kids under a roof.
The next day, we planned to spend with the children. Pastor Val picked us up at 9 and we ventured out to a local street market for some avocados and bread. It was a dizzying cornucopia of sensory overload - mud and filth beneath our feet; a woman with a blaring bullhorn; angry chickens hanging off the back of a scooter; raw, fly-infested meat for sale in the hot sun; a drug-crazed youth sitting naked with a woman's lace skirt stretched over his hips; mangoes, coconuts and plantains...we are no longer in Kansas (or North Carolina).
Pastor Val's two cell phones rang incessantly - between the demands of being a pastor and running a taxi service, he is in high demand. He told us, "I have not scheduled anything else this weekend, so that I can host you." But clearly one phone call got his attention and he was obviously conflicted.
Maggie, one of his parishioners, had taken her 5-year-old neighbor boy to the hospital. He was in a diabetic coma and had not eaten or drunk anything for a few days. He was at the Doctors Without Borders hospital in Leogane, 45 minutes from where we were headed. His parents did not believe in Christ, and Maggie felt compelled to ask Pastor Val to come and pray for the boy, since his parents would not think to ask for such a thing. Clearly, Pastor Val wanted to go. We assured him that we could accomplish everything that we came to do while driving (especially now that we could close the windows!) and that it would be our privilege to accompany him in this task.
On the way, we passed a
building that was made of pre-fab walls, made to last 5-6 years. We had considered this option at first; there is a factory doing the same thing in PAP that some Dutch missionaries started and is now operated by Haitians. The kits for the buildings can be put together in a day on a prepared concrete slab, so several of these small structures would provide shelter in a hurry. Pastor Val was intrigued and we could tell he was thinking. I told him that we had enough money raised to buy 7 or 8 of these kits, providing a secure home for up to 50 people. Now he was really interested. He said he'd like to visit the factory after we left.When we arrived at the hospital, the staff told us we were not permitted to visit until noon. It was 11:30, but they adhered to strict visitor schedules. However, in just a few minutes, we were escorted one at a time into the temporary hospital. Temporary structure, but there was nothing skimpy about the staff, equipment or care. Top of the line. I am so glad.
I went first. The little boy was lying unconscious (or in a deep sleep), an IV of fluids and nutrients flowing into his veins. Dear Maggie was holding his small hand. I asked a few basic questions in the miniscule amount of Kreyol I know - how old is he? what is his name? has he eaten? fever? A nurse drew blood; he didn't even flinch. I laid my hands on him and began to pray. Bring healing Lord. You are the Great Physician, touch this little boy with your great power and bring him to wholeness, wellness and take away this affliction. From the top of his head, to the soles of his feet. Amen.
There was an old woman in the bed next to his (and I just can't remember his name!) and I threw up a prayer for her. She looked close to death. I think this was the ER. Another boy had some body part bandaged. Pastor Val went back after I came out, and took his turn petitioning the Lord for healing. We were able to speak with the dad for a few minutes and told him we prayed. Then it was back to our original plan. Pastor Val called his sister Yrma and alerted her that we were on our way, and that we wanted some of her good cooking. Rice and beans would be fine, thank you.
When we got there, we immediately distributed some water guns to the boys. Oh my goodness...great idea. They had a blast. The girls were immediately feeling left out, and so I produced four bottles of nail polish and got to work. And crayons and coloring books. And play dough. The boys still seemed to have more fun; probably because Kirk was in the thick of it. He
came back soaked to the skin - some water, some sweat, I'm sure.We wandered the grounds talking to Pastor Val of septic systems and footings. I snapped lots of photos. We played whiffle ball. I gave Daril, the eldest child at the orphanage, my Ipod Shuffle loaded with awesome worship music. He had been so intrigued with it last time I was there, and I never use it at home. More discussions about the future, about timing and community development. It's bigger than just an orphanage building. That whole community needs jobs, stability and growth. Lots of capable men are just sitting under mango trees wasting their days away. It is a pathetic situation. But we have a plan. Pastor Val has been pondering this for a long time and now is the time.
Another storm rolled in and we were hurried away again by the warnings about the rising river. Back to the safety of the guest house.
(Major tangent: When we got back to the guest house preparations were well underway for a wedding that was taking place within the hour. Guests had started arriving and the reception was prepared. The rain was holding off, so the outdoor wedding was still on. We noticed how decked out all the guests were: tuxedos, three-piece suits, top hats, formal gowns, white gloves, little girls dressed as brides, etc. This was going to be quite a party. One of the American women, Carol, that works at this compound came over to us and chatted with us about the spectacle. She told us this was the wedding of one of the staff, and she knew her well. As we talked, an SUV pulled up with a bride in the back. How fun! We were going to see the arrival of the bride. But then a second bride got out of the SUV... and our new American friend told us neither was the actual real bride. We were perplexed. Both of these 'brides' had the white dress, the veil, the flowers...Carol said that they really do get dressed up for weddings here! Well, okay then. I wouldn't like to be upstaged by other brides at MY wedding, but then again, we're not in America!)
As the rain began to fall, Kirk looked at me with realization in his eyes: "It's really raining hard." That was all he said. It fell like that for at least 4 hours. We were sobered to think of our friends, just a few miles away having to cope with the unthinkable all night long.
In the morning, Tingue - a Haitian engineer who lives on the compound we stayed at - came and talked to us about the building project for Pastor Val. That was a great conversation and we got a lot of answers. Then when Pastor Val came to pick us up, we were able to get him and Tingue talking, which proved to be the most valuable 30 minutes of the whole weekend. There had been several layers of people between these two men and a lot of misunderstandings had occurred. Everything from the building project to food distribution was tangled in a web of confusion. The Lord had us there to facilitate that brief conversation and exchange of phone numbers and names for the benefit of Pastor Val and the orphanage. If for no other reason, I am glad we went to Haiti for that short visit.
Now, we are back home, have raised a bunch more money and are well on our way to streamlining our efforts on the US side. It is a joy and a privilege to come alongside such a faithful and humble man of God to encourage him, pray for him and help him provide for the needy in his community. We are so grateful to God for opening the most unexpected doors of opportunity for him and for us.
And there is now a precious church of about 100 people in the Pacific Northwest that has opened its heart to Pastor Val. In one momentous event, they managed to give enough money to completely pay for the semi-permanent housing that we looked at with Pastor Val. This will provide immediate housing while we wait for the permanent building to come to fruition.
Thank you to all of the generous people who have shared of their time, talent and finances. And Pastor Val always tells us to say, "Thank you" to you as well.
It is heartfelt.
