I am going to take the Haiti trip into three different chapters. The Stories, The Reflections, The Choices. I need to tell what happened so one…including me…can better understand the reflections on this whole matter. As far as the choices. Look, when you have been exposed to events and reflect on events…you have to actually DO something with the reflection…otherwise you may as well be banging a gong. Pretty noise, but pretty useless.
Before continuing, you can see pics at http://picasaweb.google.com/patlgreen/HaitiTrip2008
First, we have the players. Fran (13th visit to Haiti) and Linda (2nd visit), Steve and Joanna (virgin trip), Larry and Matt (father and son, virgin trip), and me on my virgin trip. As I said in my prior entry, we arrived to Port Au Prince late and missed our connecting flight. Nadir (our very connected driver), found us harbor for the night at the VisaLodge hotel. It was my first taste of the juxtaposition that would define the entire visit. Beauty and horror interwoven. Hope and despair enveloped in a passionate embrace. After everyone else went to bed I needed to settle my nerves so I went to the bar and downed about three shots of Jack..maybe 4. Hard to tell. I wanted numb cheeks in the hopes it would soothe me. While at the bar I spoke with a missionary and his wife and another missionary who is a model in the states.
The older gentleman was frankly arrogant and had Haiti all figured out and anyone not doing it his way was pretty daft. The model was as genuine as she was lovely. She may have had less polish, but she was more genuine and was interested to know what others can do. He found her attempts to facilitate adoptions insulting…I found his lack of tact to be equally so. Well, he departed…I assume to bask in his own glory in a mirror. Her and I chatted a little and in my early Jack induced buzz…I know we exchanged emails and I am getting some software to her organization.
So the next morning we go to a small airport in Port Au Prince (that uses the same runway as the big one…I am as perplexed as you are). Due to the incompetence…and possible incontinence…of American Airlines, we were flying stand by for our flight from Port Au Prince to Jeremie. There are 2 flights a day making this journey and only 20 seats on the plane. 3 of our people got on. We did not know how many of us would get on the next flight. Fran and Larry went and talked to another carrier called MAF who had a pilot coming in who could take us for $495 USD. Oh yeah, the plane could only carry 950 pounds of weight and we had a limited time to make some things happen. Fran is the only one with us who can speak creole so he flies into action getting refunds from the original carrier to fund this new flight, and getting our luggage back. Then we had the flight of our lives. Tiny Cessna moving at like 90 MPH. Open windows, cool air, amazing view to a dirt landing strip. Day one had a short drive through Jeremie. This is a city kinda the size of Joliet. They have not had electricity in six months. Everyone has a cell phone. It kinda looks like the French quarter meets the old west. I got to Steve and Joline’s home. They are the missionaries. They fed us and showed us around the house and gave us the ground rules and off to bed we went after a dinner.
The house is concrete, the windows have no screens or glass, electricity is supplied by a generator and only when needed. Water comes from a cistern and you only drink the water that comes from the filter. Most of the time it was cooler outside than it was inside. It is actually a nice home. Spacious. As opposed to a day by day from this point it is going to be a strong of stories and moments. When I am at the church, I am at a small village called Marfranc…45 minutes from Jeremie. When I am at the work site…also Marfranc. We will talk about the mountain village later.
Dancing. Fran wrote a song in creole to be played on guitar and drums and Joanna created a dance to the song. That Sunday was youth Sunday so this was an event for the teen and young adult to participate in. We had two days of rehearsal and then go time. The first day was tough. Most of the girls dancing were very inhibited and despite Joanna’s friendly approach, very shy. It went well, but I was unsure what Sunday would look like. Well, day two they were much less reserved and really embraced the spirit of the dance and had fun. The difference showed. Fran suggested that maybe during the evening they all just kind of decided-Hey! This ain’t so bad. On Sunday, they were in full spirit and embraced the whole affair. You can see the dance at the following link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfjK8ee5mlw .
Foto Girl: Foto Girl. I never really did get her name, but I have at least a dozen pictures of her. I do know she is five and had never seen her photo before. Two of the days I was at the church in Marfranc, she would follow me with 1 to 4 of her friends and ask for her photo to be taken and would not relent until I took a photo and then showed the image to her and her friends on my digital camera screen. She would lead the charge at the screen and tell everyone who was who in the pictures. Next time I go I will be taking greater efforts to say a few things in creole and at least be able to tell her how much she makes me smile. Interesting side note, they do not tend to smile for pictures unless you do something to draw a smile. They do not generally smile on request so you have to do something silly to draw the smile out.
Good Job…Bad Job: Pastor Plaisir is the 62 year old Haitian Pastor of the church in Marfranc. He grew up in a mountain village but he and his kids live in Marfranc now. The front of the church needed some work. Some makeshift scaffolding was made which most of us could not use due to the fact they were made to support a 140 pound Haitian. Anyway, the church had some concrete patching done. We sanded off the excess concrete and then painted the front of the church. The church is a two tone. A cream and a dark brown. The dark brown would be in crevices. Sometimes a little dark would splatter. (side note: I learned sweat and spit will get oil base paint off your glasses. 
) . Anyway, Pastor would look at the splatter and go to Linda and say "Good Job, Bad job." That became a running gag. By the way, the end product was a "good job."
Work Site and Other Home Construction: The work site is a new home for the missionaries, Steve and Joline. Currently they have to drive 45 minutes to get to Marfranc. So a new home is being built by the river in Marfranc. The home will have an apartment for them and dormitories for visiting missionaries. The foundation is almost a story tall of rock and the roof is held up by sticks until we can get rebar and concrete posts put in. The roof will also be concrete in case a second story is built one day. Most homes are built with a combo of mud and rock and then coated with a thin layer of concrete. Not the best construction for long term housing, but when you make about $400 USD a year, it works. Some nicer homes are under construction. You build until you run out of materials..stop…come back some time later with more materials and work on it. Some people will spend 20 years building a nice home this way. Homes have concrete fences in some cases with a metal gate. The top of the fence will have razor wire…if you cannot afford razor wire, you use broken glass or sharp shells and glue it to the top of the fence. That would be home security.
Sunday Service: In Sunday service you wear your Sunday best. Shirt and tie and pants and sweat like a hog. Service in the small church is 2 hours and includes Sunday school updates, hymns, special music, and a sermon. The ladies up there singing dress like any black baptist service you would see here in the states. It was great…even not knowing the words. Fran was the guest speaker and preached his second ever sermon in creole. It was great. After service we had lunch at the pastors house. It was fried goat, fried bananas, fruits, beans and rice, and coffee and juice and soda. It was wonderful. We then got to see where the food was prepared. Ladies from the church gather in a small one room structure where wood is burned to heat up rocks and bowls are placed over the rocks to fry the food. It had to be 150 degrees in there. They did that and endured that to give us a feast that, though modest to us, is about a weeks worth of food for a family there. That was quite humbling. We were asked by Joline to thank them for their work. Not a problem.
The Mountain Village. The mountain village is where the Pastor grew up and first pastored. You drive to the edge of Marfranc and hike up a mountain for an hour and a half. During the walk you cross a river and the water feels soooo good on your legs. When we got there we saw people who only see white people when we come. Their church is held together by a wing and a prayer. The homes and the people and the view is breath taking. There was, in the beauty, heart break. There is an albino child who requires sun screen, hats, sunglasses, and long sleeve shirts. The mother does not understand the importance of this and there are large boils on the child’s skin. It is not that the mother is cruel…they just do not understand tomorrow because they live to survive today. It broke me..enter tears. The walk up exhausted most of us and our water supplies. We drank from coconuts and were fed bread and coffee and fruit. We were a social event. Very touching considering all supplies they have to serve us come from an almost 3 hour walk total. On our way down we had three lovely little girls come with us. They had water jugs. They were going to the river which they claimed was not far. They do this twice a day for their families on slippery steep slopes of rock. One of them is about the same age as my little one and one of Larry’s daughters. She tugged at his heart strings. She asked if we would see them again. Larry said HE would. I know Larry well enough now that this is a promise he will fulfill.
Playing With the Kids: On our last day in Marfranc we went to the church to say good bye. I kept looking at all the kids. I could not speak to them and they could not speak to me. I let my inhibitions go and played factory worker with them..kind of a mime game..then a mirror me game, then I did magic tricks with rocks. Kids are kids. We all laughed and were silly and had fun and wonders shared. Larry then "pulled his thumb off". The teenage girls were funny and universal. When we had lunch they sat in a bedroom together and giggled. When Larry knocked on their door and pretended he did not do it, they screamed "Patrick!" in a teasing manner assuming I was the prankster. One of the pastor’s daughters, Barbara, developed an interest in Matt who is 17. Like a teen she asked one of the local boys to find out if Matthew talks, has a girlfriend, etc. No matter where in the world you are, some things do not change.
Old Folks Home. In Marfranc is a home for the elderly. We met a man who is 107. His legs do not work well and he cannot see very well, but he has spunk and was alert and fun. We met a blind man on a wheelchair with no tires. He tried to tell us stories and I choked up a bit. Larry and I kept our touch on him and I would laugh sometimes or make noises to let him know I was listening. We then met an old man who took old feed bags and rips them apart to braid rope he would sell. His dexterity is amazing. Then we have the ladies. We went to their half and they gave us applause and wore the baseball caps Jolene gave them like they were fine bonnets. They lined up to have Joanna paint their nails and they ALL wanted their picture taken with Larry. One even told Larry she had a 40 year old son. I spent time talking with Sister Gillian, the nun working the operation that day. Then we had a lady who made seat covers who I cannot describe. She wanted pics taken with her and all her stuff, she hid her soup from the nun and refused to eat it and point at us and laugh. She was piss and vinegar defined.
Getting home. Getting home would take to long, I may create a separate entry for it. All I can say is it was a American Airlines cluster f*** the whole way home.
There are a lifetime of stories I can tell, but these are glimpse. Other stories include arrogant missionaries and humble missionaries, government and economic corruption, the market, the food, and so much more. I will tell more stories in good time. For now, enjoy the glimpse. Reflections and what to do are coming soon.
Thanks for reading.
Each trip changes me and it is something my 8 year old and I look forward to every time it comes. Well I get this call from one of my former students and fellow graduates. He has a nice cushy job in a church with one of those paycheck things and everything. I will not go into the details of the phone call, but the jist of it is this. There is a part of him that really wants to quit and go with me on this journey of starting a church. I am not quite sure what to do with this…but I spoke with a friend about it (actually, I spoke with a lot of friends about it) but she said the following: