I served in Haiti

From April 17-24 it was my pleasure to serve in Haiti with a great team of people:

It was great to serve with all of them, but I knew several from the team already, so it was a particular joy to serve with them -
Eli Roberts: I had been on a mission trip to Mexico with him, he had been in our community group, and I performed his wedding ceremony
Stuart Sullivan: This was our third mission trip together in 6 years. Dude is always up for cross-cultural missions
Bethany (Dr. Bart) Nagel: An RN that is also an all grown up version of a little JH girl that had been in my youth group when I was Pastoring in the suburbs of western Detroit from 1996-1998.
Phil Rhodes: My family's doc and a friend going back several years
Lindsay Sams: Her baby brother is on the some baseball and basketball teams as my oldest son
Sherri Barclay: Served at the same time as me briefly with "The Grove" around 7 years ago



The above picture was a fairly common site.

The next 7 posts are laid out sequentially to tell the story of our trip from my perspective.

HAITI Saturday, April 17 Day 1:

Saturday, April 17 Day 1: We left NWA at 6am and connected to Dallas and then Miami. Particularly in Miami, I felt like it was the last chance at what we Americans consider “normal” food and restrooms for awhile.
We arrived in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti in the late afternoon, and the airport itself was full of security checks (i.e. men with guns). The building structure itself clearly suffered damage, so much of what we saw seemed temporary except for one gleaming (new?) hall we walked down to get to the shuttles taking us to customs.
As we were traveling with a great deal of extra weight (approx 140 lbs per person of mostly medical supplies and food), it was no easy task gathering our luggage from baggage claim. And that area was certainly temporary, as customs officials sat in newly built plywood boxes, and we could see the baggage handlers place the bags on the mini-conveyor belt.
By the time we finally got outside through security (pushing carts we rented full of our bags) we were like honey to flies in attracting locals wanting to get a buck off us. Many people nearby us brazenly said in broken English, “Give me a dollar.” Nothing else…just “give me a dollar.” It was bizarre.
However, what was even crazier were the “luggage helpers.” Many of them had official looking shirts…but in reality were scammers who wanted to shake you down for carrying your bags. It was not the safest feeling to be outnumbered 10:1 by people wanting to “help” you. The weird thing was, it seemed like it was completely legal if not semi-police sponsored. We would say “NO” loudly and repeatedly, and demonstrate that we didn’t want help, but that was not a deterrent. When you have 3 heavy bags per person (many outweighed some of our team members), there is not a whole lot you can do when surrounded by “helpers.”
It took about 15 minutes to get the 50 yards or so from the airport exit to our van/ & truck that were waiting nearby, and by the time we got to our vehicle we had 8-9 hangers on that would not leave (and 1 guy that actually HAD helped when a cart got stuck). We left a few tips to a few people who had actually helped a ton but made it clear we weren’t tipping everyone.

Driving through the city was tragic, beautiful, and compelling. There would be a nice building looking structurally sound, and next to it hundreds of tents with families living in them. We traveled through the shopping districts where traffic was as bad as anything I have ever seen in downtown Chicago on a Friday afternoon (HORRIBLE), and it was fascinating to see the things being sold on the sides of the street. Think of the numerous items that Wal-Mart sells, and then line the side of the road with it…and that sort of gives you an idea of how vast it was. Of course the selection was greatly diminished compared to a Wal-Mart, but there was/is a thriving market out of the ashes. And why not? People need clothes, and people need to eat. And oh were there people…everywhere there were people. Every now and then you would see someone taking a bucket bath or urinating in the street. They weren’t trying to be publicly indiscreet…it’s just Haiti. There were so many people and so much going on…you simply didn’t know where to look (or not look!) until it was too late.

We finally got to our house where we were staying for the week just before it started getting dark, and we instantly had an instant reverse culture shock. Our place was secure (behind walls with broken glass strategically placed on the tops along with razor wire), very clean, had running water for showers, and semi-flushable toilets (no TP allowed). It was also 2 stories tall, had a generator, electricity…and wifi. WOW. It was shockingly better than we anticipated, and though it seemed like a lot compared to many in the country, it was a blessing to have a bit of semi-normalcy to rest at that night and throughout the week. We had basic army cots to sleep on, but that too seemed like a luxury compared to what we had just driven through.
We gathered for a team time, sorted some Rx supplies, and hit the sack thoroughly exhausted late in the evening.

HAITI Sunday, April 18 Day 2

Like most days in Haiti, we awoke early and made our own breakfasts. We hadn’t discovered the store that had opened nearby yet, so a lot of us had some sort of mixture of protein shakes, energy bars, or other items we had brought with us. Thankfully we were able to “ease” into the day though, as it was a Sunday morning and culturally people there (like most places) don’t do much. There are many churches there, but again…like in the U.S., not all of them are all that great in being beacons of Jesus, and instead are bogged down in religiosity.
Eventually we drove back through the madness of the city to a tent city located near a Bible church.
It was exciting and humbling to finally set-up our first makeshift mobile medical clinic. As soon as we were there we were SURROUNDED by children who wanted to touch and talk to us. Most of these fortunate kids still had a parent or two who had survived the quakes, but many didn’t own anything of value. One little boy saw that I had a soccer ball with me, and immediately began saying (sweetly, not aggressively), “You. You. Give me Ball-o?” He probably asked me this over 100 times. Throughout the clinic he was never far away from me, staring, begging, imploring…saying “You, You.” Meanwhile we served in our predetermined roles of triage, docs, Rx, and pastoral. My role was to repeatedly pray with/for anyone who desired it. My heart broke repeatedly as I heard stories of people who lost loved ones in the quakes. One guy shared that he lost 18 family members in one building, and only he and his little boy survived. Story after story…it’s was too much for my brain to process. In fact I never really asked for people’s stories because everyone had one, and I sensed that it wasn’t my role to ask about stories unless someone wanted to tell e. I did ask if I could pray with and for them…and if they had specific requests wanted to be lifted up with them too. It was a pleasure to sit with, hug, and pray for people that we were able to minister to by caring for them medically and spiritually. My heart was broken again and again for parents who were now homeless, often sick, and jobless. They don’t love their kids any less than I love mine. I hurt for them.

We eventually went back to the TNM house later that day before it started getting dark, and our team scurried to clean up for a needed good meal. Team time was a sweet mixture of worship, testimonies, and directions for the next day. Afterwards many of us stayed up late sorting pills for the next days clinic.

If I had to describe my place on the team, it would be “Papa Bear.” There is probably a better moniker because I’m not old enough or have enough gray hair to be a Papa…and Dr. Jeff may have fit this title as well as I…but the role I was playing seems to have somewhat fit.
As was my habit, I was the last to bed that and every other night we were in Haiti. My role in checking on everybody probably meant less sleep and definitely fewer showers in addition to praying with and for everyone…and just being “available” to lend my computer or process the days events in smaller groups. It also meant reminding people to hydrate themselves (we all forget) even when they didn’t feel like it, and to pass around the germX on a regular basis. In many ways my job was to stay out of the way while greasing the wheels of spiritual, emotional, and physical health and efficiency for the team. I LOVE that role. Occasionally I had to take the reigns and lead the team directly, but hopefully my teammates often didn’t even realize that I was serving them in the midst of serving the Haitian people. To me, the role I was serving in was the most enjoyable because it was an opportunity to attempt to do simple and humble Christ-like leadership. I’m not always good at being simple or humble, but I love the few and fleeting moments when I get it right. Only God and my teammates would know how well I did though.

Sleep finally came to late in the evening after some personal quiet time. And I slept hard.

HAITI Monday, April 19 Day 3

This was a hard day, both physically and emotionally, as we spent it near the heart of Port-Au-Prince. After the normal morning routine we found ourselves in a tent city that sleeps approximately 50,000 people. Dirty. Dusty. Squalid. Children everywhere. Very heartbreaking.
To get water to these people, massive tanker trucks would come in and transfer fluids to large tanks, where people would line up near with their pitchers or used milk gallons. Meanwhile children would come up to us rubbing their belly’s, and saying in broken English, “Give me food. I’m hungry.” You would have to be a statue to not be moved by this horror, and many of us quietly fought back streaming tears as we ministered with our medical clinic.
Many children were malnourished, and there wasn’t a whole lot for them to do. Every inch of the area was taken up with people or tents or the few possessions people had.
We worked for several hours, and towards the end as we were packing up, a trauma case came in: A child had been bitten( aka chewed!) near the base of his ear in a fight with different child. Our team was AWESOME, as we rallied around to hold him down, push back the crowd, and medically address his issue like an ER right there on the spot. This was another moment that I was proud to be serving with our team, because everyone stepped up to make sure this kid got taken care of, and prayed for. It was definitely a “moment” that stood out in the midst of many others.

HAITI Tuesday, April 20 Day 4

We got an early start as we had to drive 2+ hours out of of PAP to a small village that had an orphanage. Not too far into the drive, I switched out of the main van and joined a bunch of the translators in the back of a little truck. This was a fortuitous blessing…I spent the next 90+ minutes really seeing and smelling the city and countryside of that part of Haiti. The translators and I started talking music and sports. At one stop I hopped out of the truck and ran and grabbed something from the main van, and quickly went back to the truck. My translator buddy looked at me kind of wide eyed and said, “I can tell, you are a player!”
This took me aback, because I’ve most often heard that term used as a slang for a womanizer, so I quickly protested this label and started explaining that I’m a 1 woman man. It took us a minute of conversation to realize that what he said/meant was very different from what I heard/understood. He was using the term “player” as a compliment, and explained that when I had ran my little errand, I had moved with strength and fluidity that matched what a good soccer player would have. So essentially…he was saying I’m athletic. We had a good laugh once we figured out what was lost in translation, and it was kind of a 2nd level ice breaker that got us talking about all sorts of stuff even more.
While I was talking with the translators, they were surprised that I knew Fugees/Wycliff/LaurynHill music. All of a sudden we were singing “Killing Me Softly” together, in the back of a truck flying through the beauty and destruction of northern PAP…and it started pouring rain so fast we cold barely keep our eyes open. Such a cool “moment” that lasted quite awhile. The rain eventually stopped, but the translators and I had bonded and were really enjoyed the ride. Again and again Haitian people on the sides of the road would see me (the only Caucasian in the back of the truck with 5-6 black guys), point, wave, and yell
“Hey Blonde!” Note: In Haiti, “blonde” doesn’t mean yellow haired person, it means white person. It is far closer to a term of endearment and is not really something meant as negative/racist.
We eventually reached a medical clinic and orphanage where people had been lined up SINCE THE NIGHT BEFORE awaiting our doctors arrival. It was humbling to see these beautiful people who were desperate for our help. The orphanage had approximately 30 infants and young toddlers…and the main clinic had lines of adults who had walked (some hours) in from the mountainous countryside to be seen. I’ve been in some remote locations, but this was WAY out there…and it was just the beginning of civilization to many of the folks we saw. True villagers in huts and small houses sitting by a river…in some ways it was almost idyllic, but it would also be a difficult place to eke out a living.
We served most of the day at this location, and were humbled and quite exhausted when we eventually got in the trucks to backtrack the arduous journey back into and through Port-Au-Prince.

HAITI Wednesday, April 21 Day 5:

We visited 2 orphanages this day, including one where several other NWA area docs had spent some time the month before. So there was planned follow-up to do. However, the orphage that stands out most in my mind was built into the side of a mountain, and there was a horribly large empty pit in the back of it. It would be too easy for a child to fall into it. The bathrooms were indescribably dark and disgusting, and it was a tough place to visit.
As we walked in, we had children almost immediately plaster themselves to us giving and wanting hugs. Some kids wouldn’t let go. We brought multiple toys and balls to hand out, and they were hungrily snatched up and played with immediately.
One particular 8 year old girl named “Lovely,” (pronounced “lo-vah-lee”) snuck up behind me while I was sitting down playing catch with some boys. I realized after a few minutes that she had started a slow process of leaning into my back and laying her head on my shoulder. It was very sad and charming at the same time. I reached around and put my arm around her shoulder and gave her a real good side hug…and it was like she melted into my arm. She barely left me for the rest of the time we were there. The one time she did was when she jumped up and ran to a translator to speak for a second. She came back soon after and said in broken English, “I love you. I want to go home with you.” My heart broke. I don’t know if I’ve recovered from this even yet. I love my children very much and missed them while in Haiti. But it was an honor to be father-like to this orphan girl, even for a brief time.
Later in the day we returned to a location we had visited earlier in the week, and worked to salvage various medical supplies from a pharmacy that had been ransacked post-earthquake. This was also nearby the boy we had given the soccer ball to on Sunday, as well as some other children we had given medical care too. They were very willing helpers in carrying the supplies we were able to recover, and I also spent 30 minutes with them doing little visual tricks which led into telling them about Jesus. One picture here is of how/where they got their water after walking 200 yards down a steep hill.
This was another day that made us pretty tired emotionally, yet we were energetic about afterwards.

HAITI Thursday, April 22 Day 6:

We finally took a needed break and had a slow morning. We slept in except for a precious few that went out and found us some fresh pastries. Where they got these amazing breakfast treats is beyond me, but it was a special treat. The food was a cross between a buttery croissant and a lightly sugar covered dutch-letter pastry…something like I’ve only ever had in Pella, Iowa. It was good to ease into this day, because it ended up being VERY long.
A little before lunch we went up the mountain a bit and looked over PAP from a great viewpoint. There were many painters and other art/craft items for sale, and we spent about an hour making purchases and just taking it all in. I was definitely the guy most interested in doing the barter experience, so a few of the team members brought me in to haggle when they found something they wanted. I’m weird…I love the give and take of shopping like this! I’m confident that we overpaid a bit (on purpose), but not to the extent the sellers were exorbitantly going for! It was fun to me because I knew that their material costs were less than $1, the average daily wage in that area was $2, and most of the items for sale were probably only worth $2-$3 in the U.S. So when they were asking $80 for something…the haggling game was on! It got to the point where the shopkeepers would see me coming and say, “No! I’m selling to her not you!” It was thoroughly entertaining for all of us.
Later in the day we were extremely blessed to be invited to participate in an evangelistic outreach in a smaller yet fairly secure tent city. A missionary in the area had shot a French/Haitian “prodigal son” type movie before the earthquake, and was using it as an outreach tool to share the Gospel. Initially our team was able to meet with a Pastor whose congregation was building a church building right next to where the tent city was (they had started before the earthquake too), and we prayed with and for him to be able to reap much fruit and to disciple people who had been displaced to the doorstep of their church.


We then walked around and through the tent city praying with and for people for about and hour as it was getting dark, and then the movie came on. AWESOME response. People came streaming forward to give their lives to Jesus after the movie, including a bunch of children. I must have had some sort of little spirit made sign on my head that only kids could see or something, because over 15 kids came straight at and surrounded me. I sat in the dirt with them, and helped lead them in asking God personally into their hearts. I also was able to pray with a couple of men who became Christians, and even one of our translators rededicated his life to Christ. Wow…just wow. What an evening. I praise God for his goodness in allowing me to be a part.
Again…by the time we got back to our living quarters late that night we were excited, tired, and in awe of how God was using us.