Worship at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
After an interesting breakfast, we loaded up and went to worship at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church. Oh, you were wondering what I meant by interesting? A spicy bean soup, fresh mango and pineapple and croissants. I usually don’t have soup for breakfast, but I’m glad I tried it. Very tasty. Worship was spirited, a familiar liturgy (though in Haitian Creole) and very well attended. One of our translators sat next to me to tell me the scripture readings so I could follow along in my bible. It was fun to try.
After worship we headed out to an orphanage that housed 14 teen boys. It was in great disrepair, but our doc said the boys were fairly healthy. A sad place to be but one that could come alive with a few seeds to plant and some chickens in the yard. Mission:Haiti is exploring the best way to help.
The orphanage From there we got to stop by Lophane’s new guest house, still under construction. It just needs some floors, electrical and plumbing. The roof and stairways were poured concrete. I’m not sure how they do that, but it looked great.
Lophane’s guest house
Back at Walls guest house, we are a quick lunch and started to prepare our supplies for the week. We counted out hundreds of bags of vitamins and medications, birthing kits, baby kits and hygiene kits. The kits would be used in the education we will present this week. I know you’re wondering: a birthing kit consists of a pad to sit on, gloves, gauze pads, a washcloth, some strings, a razor to cut the umbilical and some instructions. A little teaching goes a long way in helping the people care for themselves.
Some of our supplies
Our team brought so much along, including diapers, washcloths, baby clothes, and medication. We’ll be in some remote areas where there ‘s no where to go to buy anything. I wonder how they live off the land there. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. The pastor of the church there is so excited that we’re coming. We will help him connect with many families for future ministry.
After an uneventful (but very early) flight to Port-au-Prince, we got a ride to Walls Guest House, our home base for the week. After a quick unload of twenty -something fifty pound duffles full of supplies, we rode over to Good Shepherd Lutheran Church to attend the Saturday program, which members from our church support.
It was so good to see our friend Lophane, Pastor Josie and his wife Elise, and listen to the voices of over 160 children in attendance. We also helped serve lunch, then we headed out to a small pizza/burger place for lunch.
Back at Walls, we were able to catch a nap and relax a little. After a supper of noodles and sauce, we met to go over our plan for the week.
Our team comes from all over the U. S. from teens to retired, some medical providers, some not. Some wide-eyed first timers in Haiti; others have been here eight times or more.
When we stepped out of the airport today, Lisa and I both thought, “This feels like Haiti.” What’s that mean? It’s hard to say. The air is filled with a smoky, musty, diesel-exhaust smell, Bougenvillas in full bloom are tumbling over every wall and fence, and the ever present sound of car horns fills the air. It’s been five years since my last trip, but it feels familiar.
The streets are lined with a strange mix of new construction, buildings in disrepair and make shift home in every nook and cranny. We were told that ecause of inflation, things are actually worse here. Last year’s twenty-dollar bag of rice for the Saturday program now costs $35.
Church tomorrow, then we sort and organize all our supplies for Monday’s clinic.
We are headed out to Haiti tomorrow morning with a Mission:Haiti team to a small community not too far from Port-au-Prince called Bien Amie. Google Maps and Earth doesn’t show much out there. Helen, our trip leader, reports that no mission teams have yet been to this area. This will be their first exposure to the medical care and education we can bring to them.
It’s been five years since my last trip to Haiti. Where did that time go? The last time we took a group from our church and did a lot of work with Lutheran Schools in the Port-au-Prince area. It will be interesting to see what has been repaired and rebuilt since my last time there and since the earthquake six year ago.
It’s been a year since the earthquake hit Haiti, devastating an already devastated country. Where were you when the earthquake happened? I have no idea. I don’t remember the news even really showing up on my radar a year ago.
But now we think about Haiti all the time. Last March, when the call for help went out, my wife went with an LC-MS World Relief medical team and saw first hand what had happened and what people were going through. Although she touched a lot of lives, it turns out that others touched her life even more. Those who survived, those who had to stay there after she came home, those who email us, and those whose faces we can’t forget, touch our lives each day.
There are lots of articles out there to read about Haiti a year later, from LCMS World Relief and Human Care,Relevant magazine, and so many others. In some ways, not much has changed. Some have found homes. Many receive care. Some are back in school. A few have real hope. Hopefully our hearts have changed. We are planning on having our friend Lophane here in February to speak to us about his life, his work and his hopes for Haiti. I think it’s amazing just to be able to write that we have friends in Haiti, a place I hardly ever took notice of before.
This will be my last segment on Haiti, just some random reflections to tie everything together.
One question asked of me: “What did you do?” Among other things I fixed Gail’s glasses, played the part of an IV pole, learned how to take someone’s blood pressure, colored with some of the kids, and learned how to count to five and say, “Go to the tent!” in Haitian Creole. Most of the local people laughed at my south Philly-Creole accent.
We worshiped at a Lutheran Church on Sunday. Enock translated Pastor Benoit’s excellent sermon for us, and we thoroughly enjoyed the music, which included a grooving rendition of “Thy Strong Word.”
The Cholera outbreak cut out trip short by a day. News of the disease reached us early in the week, but it was in a region to the south of us. We were already taking precautions with the water, so we weren’t too concerned. Then, as the numbers of fatalities grew, we became concerned that there might be a quarantine or have trouble traveling, so we switched out flight to a day earlier. Other than another three-hour kidney-jarring, teeth rattling ride in the back of an SUV, travel back went smoothly.
Another question asked of me was, “Did you have a good trip?” I always answer, “No. It was rough.” It was rough to see the conditions the people live in and rough to not be able to do a whole lot about it. How many stomach aches were simply hunger? How many other ailments were due to dehydration? It’s hard to say. If the clinic continues to serve the people in Poto, then perhaps we did some good. If the experience will help us motivate others for mercy work like this, then perhaps it was a good trip.
We are already planning on going back with more from our church through the efforts of Mission: Haiti and the Florida-Georgia district of the LCMS. We keep in touch with many of our friends through Facebook and email. As I write this, a hurricane is just a few days from Haiti. A storm would be especially horrible for the thousands still living in tents and under tarps. Needless to say, we are doing a lot of praying for them!
Each day in Haiti was pretty much the same for us. Wait for rides, people waiting for the clinic, long, hot, dry days. But each day there was also a new adventure.
Like the outhouse. Up the hill from the church it didn’t look (or smell) too badly from a distance. But up close — watch out! Unable to last all afternoon, Gail decided to brave it, and could barely get in the door. Lisa gave it a shot on Thursday and it took just about everything she had to endure the “squat pot.” And that was before Quinton told us that he had gone up with a flashlight to look in the hole, and saw tarantulas crawling around in there. After that,
The outhouse: up close and personal
many decided it would be better to use the bushes around back. Safer — unless, like Jesse, you forgot to check for cactus.
The first few days, we got no lunch and there were few if any drinks brought in for us. Finally, we worked that out, but then faced another dilemma. How do you drink a soda or eat a sandwich in front of all these people who have so little to eat? Most of us felt like we had to take a swig or bite in hiding, because we couldn’t bear to do it with all those eyes on us.
I asked one of our translators, Jean Enock, what he and his family usually ate when not helping out at the clinic. He told us he usually ate one meal a day, typically some rice and beans. That’s all. Known as Enock, he was in Port-au-Prince during the earthquake. He was taking a bath in his home when the tremors started, and he jumped out of the tub and ran outside naked before he pulled on a pair of shorts. I can’t imagine what kind of terror and panic there must have been that day. But that’s not the worst. Later that day, a wall fell on his father, killing him. Enock now helps care for his family, some of whom live in a tent next to the rubble that used to be his house. He was one of the most pleasant, helpful, thoughtful and easy-going people we met there.
When we were at the hotel, we were introduced to another unexpected bathroom custom. Even though we had flush toilets, you weren’t supposed to flush your toilet paper. You put it into a can next to the toilet, and they would empty it each day. If you remembered to give them your key in the morning so the housekeepers could get in there.
On Thursday, we discovered that the fish at the restaurant, red snapper, was pretty good and a good supper option. That day, a translator caught up with me and said a mother and her son wanted prayer. I later learned that the boy may have had leprosy, an ailment even the doctor hadn’t seen before. Another lady told her translator she wanted private confession, but then backed out before I had a chance to speak with her. Friday was the day we gave out lots and lots of toys, so much so that it looked like a carnival, everyone walking around holding large stuffed animals.
I forgot to mention in my last post that one of the people were glad to see at the airport in Port-au-Prince was our friend Lophant, who runs a children’s feeding program at numerous sites in Haiti. My wife, Lisa, met him on her first trip to Haiti last March, and our church has been receiving and wiring financial donations to Lophant to keep that program (and the kids) alive. Our visit was short, but we did leave him with a duffle bag full of clothes and other things for his family.
Back to our story. Having arrived at the hotel in Gonaives Monday afternoon, we hung out a little, had supper at the restaurant, did some devotions, and headed off to bed. The restaurant fare was limited: beef, goat, or chicken that first night, all of which was cooked very well. Every meal came with friend potatoes, fried plantain, a big plate of rice and some kind of beans, and a big bowl of sauce, which was actually pretty good. We drank a lot of beer while we were there, mostly Prestige, a surprisingly good Haitian brew.
On Tuesday morning (Oct 19), we were up early for breakfast, where the choice was either an omelet or spaghetti. Most of our Haitian friends eat their breakfast spaghetti with ketchup. We opted for omelets most of the time, and usually had avocados and bananas them.
Anxious to get started, we assembled at 8:30 to wait for our rides to arrive. At 9:30 we were still waiting for our rides to arrive. Thus we had our first lesson in “Haiti time.” Most things happened on a very relaxed schedule, so that took a bit of getting used to. Finally about 10 our rides arrived.
First stop: the guest house, where some medications had been stored. It turns out the guest house was under some major renovations, so we would be at the hotel for our entire time in Gonaives. The medical folks sorted through many boxes and totes full of medications, and packed up everything we thought we could use. Then we sat down and waited for our rides to return.
The clinic
We finally got to the site of the clinic somewhere around 11:15, and unloaded our supplies. The “clinic” was a 40 foot shipping container that had been compartmentalized into three exam rooms and a pharmacy room. A generator supplied enough power for lights and fan, but no AC. The container was on a concrete slab next to an open air Lutheran Church built into the hillside. All set up, we saw the first patients about 11:45. The team worked till 6 pm, seeing 86 patients that first day.
Consider this process the next time you have to wait for the doctor. When someone arrived, they went into a thatched hut, received a number and waited. When their number was called they went into the church, signed in, and took a seat to wait. Next, they were seen by triage, and had vitals taken, and sent to another area to wait. When it was their turn, they were sent to a tent outside the container to wait to see the doctor or NP. After they saw the provider, they waited in the tent for medication. I think it took some people 4-5 hours to get all the way through the line. But I heard little complaint. They were very patient.
Feeling sorry for the waiters, I though, “Hey, I can be helpful.” I gave some blow up beach balls to some off the kids so they could play while waiting. The balls disappeared, but the kids returned with friends, looking for more balls. From that moment on, there was always a kid calling to me, “You!” and motioning his desire for a ball or bubbles or a toothbrush or whatever someone would give them. I wasn’t nearly as helpful as I thought I would be.
My role was chaplain for the group, as well as being available to talk to and pray with some of the people who came to the clinic. I did very little of the latter and not a whole lot of the former. I was more of a gopher, usher and utility infielder during the week. I did get to help our pharmacist Jesse through one brief emotional moment. And I did a lot of watching, hoping to get some insight into what it was like to live here.
Writing about my recent trip to Haiti will take multiple posts, so I guess I better get started. The problem is, it’s hard to know where to start. Someone advised me to come up with a short answer to the question, “So how was your trip?” My short answer is “grueling.”
I really can’t complain. Since the guest house where we were supposed to stay was being renovated, we had rooms at the Haberson Paradis Hotel in Gonaives, Haiti. So we had beds, shower, and meals. Not five star, but better than sleeping on the floor, in mosquito nets, in the heat.
Our medical mission team rendezvous-ed at a hotel right next to the Miami airport on Sunday, October 17. First time I’ve missed church in a long, long time. Our team consisted of myself (an LCMS pastor), Jacob (the team leader from Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod World Relief), Nancy (an MD), Nancy (a Physical Therapist), my wife Lisa (a nurse practitioner), Barb (an EMT/Paramedic), Barb’s son Quinton (a 16-year-old EMT in training), Gail (an RN), and Jesse (the pharmacist). Our mission was to staff a clinic in Poto, a rural area not far from Gonaives, stocking and equipping it to continue to serve the people of that area.
We met each other and shared some info about ourselves. Some had been to Haiti before, in the aftermath of the January 2010 earthquake. Our doctor had been to Peru and Lebanon on a similar mission. And some, like myself, were rookies. I would be serving as chaplain for the group as well as ministering to those coming to the clinic for care. Our discussion the first night revolved around what medications we brought, what we would need, and what kind of pizza to order for supper. We’d be up early the next morning for our flight to Port-au-Prince the next day, so we didn’t stay up too late.
When we met in the lobby the next morning, we realized that we had way too many bags to fit on the hotel shuttle. Each person had two bags to check, plus at least one carry-on each! But we squeezed everything onto one shuttle, and took off for the airport. Checking our bags and getting through security turned out to be pretty easy, so we were at our gate with over an hour to wait before out flight. Most of us set out in search of some breakfast and decent coffee. (The coffee in the hotel rooms was pitifully weak.)
After a somewhat turbulent flight to Port-au-Prince, we then had to get our bags out of the airport to the place where our rides were waiting for us. Like it or not, a swarm of porters was there to “help” us with our luggage. Swatting them away like pesky flies was marginally effective; we had to tip some of them. Finally we got loaded up in a pickup and two SUVs, and we set out for Gonaives.
Driving in Haiti is a little different than driving in the US. You mostly use horn and gas, only braking for holes in the road. The drive to Gonaives took about three hours and countless bumps in the road. Some of the scenery was gorgeous. Some was heart-breaking as we got our first glimpse of endless tent-cities in Port-au-Prince and a taste of what poor really looks like.
I am heading down to the health department today to get a few immunizations in preparation for our trip to Haiti in October. Lisa and I (along with Gail, an RN friend) are going to be part of a medical mission team sponsored by LCMS World Relief and Human Care. We’ll be in Poto, a rural community much affected by the earthquake and storms, but far away from where most relief efforts have taken place so far. I get to be a chaplain for the team, as well as providing care and counsel for some of the patients. I am looking forward to seeing firsthand some of the affected people and places I’ve only seen and heard about in the news.
Other than smallpox, polio, and tetanus, I haven’t had many immunizations. I’m old enough to be of the generation that actually had all the diseases we now immunize against. I had measles, chickenpox, rubella, and mumps. I think I had most of them in the first grade. I also broke my ankle that year. It was a rough year, but I survived.
My international travel experience includes three days in Freeport in the Bahamas and one night in Vancouver, British Columbia. Time to expand my horizons a little. While we’re there we hope to see some of the people Lisa met last March when she accompanied a team to Port-au-Prince. Our connections to them via Facebook and email makes the world seem very, very small.
Waite for it... 