I think the open questions in everyones mind boil down to this.
1. Are we (outside visitors, aid workers, missionaries) making a difference in Haiti?
2. Are there any signs that there is a hope for the future of Haiti?
To answer that, I thought I’d just share some observations from my week that I feel are signs of hope.
– there is hope, not despair, in the eyes of the children. Everywhere we go, smiles from kids greet us.
– tent cities seem to be getting their acts together. You kind of rate tent cities like hotels… A star system of sorts. We’ve seen none of the 1 star tent cities (the ones made of sticks and sheets) you see a lot of 3 star ones with well-constructed tents, water systems, latrines, schools, and even play areas.
– commerce is everywhere. We saw hundreds of small business owners. Many run simple shops selling gum or sodas… But the desire to run a store is huge! We also ran into many men using their trades to turn garbage into money. People are recycling rebar to turn it into grills. They are turning smashed cars into bridges. They are turning cans into piggy banks.all of these are great signs. Desperation leads to innovation.
– play is coming back. All week I’ve carried a soccer ball in my backpack. And we’ve played hours of simple soccer games with kids. Earlier today we came across a soccer field and watched actual organized soccer.
– churches have stayed full. I’m actually writing this post while our host church has night worship. The service started 3.5 hours ago. When the pastors house filled up people spilled into the streets. Over one hundred people have spent all night worshipping Jesus. The revival we saw in February was not just temporal. God is still calling people to Himself through Jesus.
– the past is the past. No one seems to care about things pre-January 12th. They seem very intent in the future of their nation.
– the youth don’t want to flee. Our team has been served by 4-5 wonderful translators every day. These talented and bright men want to stay here. They aren’t interested in moving to America. Instead, they want to help rebirth their nation.
– there is no complaining. Before we came here we heard a lot about people growing tired of the government not acting. I’ve not heard that this week. Instead, I’ve seen people taking action to work on true circumstances.
Sure, things aren’t significantly better than 6 months ago. And there is much left to do… But there is still hope in their air here in Haiti.
It’s unexplainable and completely a fault in my personality. But I can be as stubborn as an ox and as tactful as a vuvuzela in a movie theater.
It’s one of those things where an asset is also a liability. If you know me, you know this well. (sorry)
It’s happened a few times on this trip. Just little moments when I strike out in opposition of the three dominant rules on short term trips.
1. Pack whatever you are told to pack.
2. Do whatever the leader asks you to do.
3. Be flexible and willing to be uncomfortable.
So, I’ll admit right now that I stink at all three of those things.
Submission to authority is something that I struggle with. I suppose it’s why I’d never join the military. (Or end up in military jail, if I did) and why it was odd that I did ministry in a Baptist context for 5 years. It’s not that I’m incapable. It’s that I need to understand the “why” way more than most people!
Just ask my mom, I’ve been this way since birth. Actually, I was two weeks overdue so you can see I’ve always done things on my own timing.
Two examples of my suckitude:
– going through security in Ft. Lauderdale, they have one of those new scanners that looks under your clothing. But I noticed this little sign which basically said, “If you object to the scan you may use the metal detector.” Of course, I don’t really care that a TSA agent can see my junk. But I decided to opt out simply because of the option. Apparently to dissuade you from simply opting out of their million dollar toy, they insist on forcing people who opt out to go through a full secondary search So, I waited about 5 minutes for some poor guy to get on his gloves and pat me down. And in the process I shared some smartypants remarks about the new devices. In the end, it wasn’t a big deal either way… It was just something stupid I dug in on.
– I didn’t buy pants for this trip. Giggle all you want, but I really don’t have pants to wear on a missions trip. Hey, I live in San Diego… I wear shorts to work just about every day! Plus, with temps of 115 F I was positive that they were unnecessary. So, I didn’t bring them. No biggie, right? Wrong. Today we encountered a ministry opportunity that required pants and since I chose to not go out and buy stuff for this trip, I just had to pass on the opportunity. (And accept the harassment of my teammates for my packing failure.)
In both of those, I am very frustrated with my stubbornness. I just wish I wasn’t such a punk sometimes.
So, that’s something I get to take away from this trip… I need to work on this character flaw. I guess it isn’t as endearing a quality as I’d like to think it is.
Those were the words of my friend and teammate, Mark Helsel.
Our team was overwhelmed today as we joined in the craziness of an orphanage running in the backyard of a doctor turned pastor.
Today we got a glimpse of an amazing ministry here in Carffuer, the Sons of God orphanage.
What is it? Well, it’s nothing and everything at the same time. Upwards of 100 children live in a makeshift orphanage. The conditions are very rough. It’s messy and smelly in the backyard where the kids play. There are chunks of broken concrete and piles of mud. Little boys urinate in a drain next to workers doing laundry.
But this isn’t about the squalor of the conditions. It is about the condition of their spirit. The children all wear huge smiles. They are warm and affectionate. They are clearly loved and safe. And thanks to the efforts of people like Ed Noble (Journey Church, La Mesa) and Doug Paggit (Solomons Porch, Minneapolis) they have plenty of food and supplies.
This is what joy is! It is knowing that you are an orphan and have been brought from life threatening danger to life giving security. That’s why, when the singing begins, so does the dancing. Joy erupts from the very fact that you are loved and taken care of.
Oh, to be a person that opens your home, life, and family to the needs of your community! What satisfaction and honor that must bring to the family in God’s eyes.
Maybe, just maybe, this is what the church ought to be doing?
A refuge in life’s earthquakes.
A family when you have none.
Security when you are left insecure.
A future where there was none.
Sharing to the point of poverty.
I’m now back to the place I was in February. I simply cannot reconcile the world Iive in with the world I know exists here.
One of the joys of this trip is getting to know new people. I suppose it is odd to some that this team is assembled of people somehow related to me. Obviously, some are old friends while others are brand new to me. Though that may seem odd, it’s how my life works. As Kristen says, “that’s how we roll.”
It’s the same with Haiti. This trip is entirely different from my first one… The experiences bear almost no resemblance yet feel strikingly similar. It’s like buying a replacement for your favorite shirt. It’s the same but different in a way you kind of like and kind of don’t.
I’m happy to see our team push past discomfort today. The pain/annoyance of traveling here is now nostalgia while the heat feels a little less oppressive every hour. Though, in both cases, it is probably not actually easier, just that we are used to it.
Erin finally made it tonight. She was delayed in South Florida by a day. Her arrival brightened Kristen and my spirits. She is such a great friend to us… And her arriving was an awesome pick-me-up bouquet of joy.
A rainstorm came to put a period on our day. Just as Mark, Jeffrey, and I were tiring of a long game of keep away with a soccer ball and about 10 boys, drizzle turned to downpour. We lumbered inside and made our way to the balcony just as sheets of heavy rain arrived. Secure and dry my heart sank knowing that many in the city were bracing for a night of misery while we rejoiced in the cool breezes the storm brought.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow. We plan on doing some stuff to help construct a church roof, some sort of VBS thing for a local church, as well as visit the Sons of God orphanage.
We all know that this just means I will take pictures and tweet about people doing the actual work, right?
Right now I hear a congregation praying in the first floor of the building I am trying to sleep in. I hear crickets and look out of the balcony and see returnless lightning in the distance. The night is filled with stilled activity under the oppressive humidity of the Carribean.
Moments ago the congregation sang Blessed Assurance. ( apparently 10:45 pm is a great time to worship) Maybe imagined it, too? You never fully know. But as they sang my heart sang as tears filled my eyes. I don’t speak Creole yet I know the song well enough to sing along.
Blessed assurance. That is the only hope for Haiti, right? We can serve the physical needs of the people, but the difference here between joy and misery comes from the spiritual realm.
It’s been a long day. A trip to Haiti is about working past the physical discomfort to find joy in the journey and knowledge of what God is doing.
And today was physically uncomfortable. We arrived at the airport at 2:20 PM and yet we didn’t make it to our host home in Carffuer until about 6:15. (10ish miles) The harsh roads pounded our weary body and reminded us that we didn’t have any water. Likewise, the shock of the beggars at the airport dehydrated any hopes that things are significantly better here. Two team members didn’t make it to our flight. One will come in the morning and the other went home. One team members baggage got lost… So we all shared to try to make him comfortable while hoping it arrives in the morning.
It’s been a long day. I pray we each find sleep.
And so we rest. We rest tonight not just under the cool breezes of the Haitian sky, we rest in the blessed assurance that no matter what, God’s people can praise their Savior!
The next week on my blog is going to be a smudge different. I’ll be posting updates and photos as much as I can, but it’s not possible to know what our cell reception will be like. I had hoped to have my new iPhone 4 before we left so that I could post videos and such, too. But I guess that wasn’t to be.
Right at the last minute, I decided it would be better to leave my MacBook at home… So, anything I post will come from my iPhone. ( I have my camera, so lots of pictures will come later.)
Kristen and I flew to Ft. Lauderdale yesterday. With flights and time changes it wasn’t going to be possible to get to Port-au-Prince without doing a red eye… So we opted to come to South Florida a day early.
Today, we slept in. Then we walked to a cool breakfast spot on the beach. Than walked along the ocean back to our hotel. The heat zapped us! So we lounged a bit before headed back to the beach to swim. After that, to the pool, then a nap. Then we jumped on the water taxis and went all over. Phew. The evening culminated with a romantic riverside dinner overlooking houses we will never be invited to even visit!
In a way, we feel silly for this little luxury. But at the same time we get alone time so rarely that we needed to take advantage of this opportunity.
So, next stop is Haiti. our flight arrives there about 2:30 PM.
Last night, Kristen and I collapsed into bed. We have finally finished the physical preparations for our trip to Haiti. And now, as we laid in bed, our hearts began to sink into the reality that we are doing our first missions trip together as a couple. (Well, not including co-leading youth group trips)
I’m kind of a mish-mash of emotions and thoughts.
Expectations
I’m expecting to see some progress. Recent reports of debris clearing. And even just that people are burning the garbage… good signs.
I’m expecting to be in awe of the machine that Adventures in Missions has put together. My first trip in February, AIM had only been on site for a few days and they had already started work on setting things up to bring in teams to help with relief efforts. It’s a miracle, in my opinion, that they can host trips so soon… much less the 50+ people who will be on site next week. This thing is going to be like an iceberg, we’re only going to see the part above the water.
I’m expecting to see pockets of despair. Back in February, it was all joy and hope. But 5 months later– and not a significant change in things–and I’m expecting people are going to be very impatient. Based on Phil’s reports… tensions are right below the surface. Fortunately, it seems as though we’ll be doing most of our work in the same neighborhood day after day. That will go a long way from us being a target.
I’m expecting God to open my eyes to new things. I’m hardly an expert at relief work. And I’m definitely not an expert at all things Haiti. Let’s be honest… I’m a dude with a keyboard and a camera who tells stories.
I’m expecting to serve and work. Last time was kind of a survey deal where we saw a lot, met a lot of people, and helped out in spots. This isn’t the same type of trip. I’m hoping to grunt it out.
I’m expecting to see Kristen in her element. A missionary kid with a degree in international missions on a short-term missions trip.
I’m expecting for this trip to feel out of control. Not in a dangerous way. Just in an uncomfortable way.
I’m expecting to have my worldview rocked… some more. Earlier this week I shared in a Facebook message that at some point this Spring I had to “turn off Haiti” so I could get back to life. I don’t know what God has in store for me this time. But I’m getting ready.
I’m expecting our team to be fun. It’s kind of nuts that most of these people have never met. All along I just kind of depended on God to orchestrate who would go. Let me tell you, I was not able to talk anyone into this trip! The people who are going all want to go… bad!
Fears
It was one thing to walk into the last trip completely blind. This time I have some sense of what I’m walking into… that brought about a lot of fear.
I’m afraid of the heat. The only other time I can think of being in this type of heat was the summer of 1995 in Chicago. I tend to dehydrate easily, so I’ll be drinking water and Gatorade constantly. (Daily heat index to hover at 115 F)
I’m afraid of leading this team. It’s one thing for me to go with a group. I’m super nervous about having put this group together. If it sucks it feels like its on me.
I’m afraid of feeling so helpless… again. The issues in Haiti are so big that they are overwhelming. I know logically I need to just look at what we are doing and not think about the bigger picture. But you can’t help seeing the bigger picture and not feeling compelled to do something.
I’m afraid I’m going to feel like some sort of sick tourist. It was a little different last time as I was going to tell stories. I still want to capture stories. I just have to figure out a way to do it without sensationalizing anything.
For some reason, I’m freaked out to have Kristen on this trip. I wouldn’t label this trip as “risk taking.” But it is definitely not risk aversion.
I’m afraid I’ll lose my patience. When I get tired I get cranky. Gosh, I hope I can keep it together.
Let’s face it. I’ve got a lot of fears and a lot of expectations.
In fact, a big thing I’m thinking about over the next 2 days is… lower your expectations.
My prayer for the week has been… Lord, allow us to step into your river of mercy and be the hands and feet of Jesus.
If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me about the people of Haiti I wouldn’t be $1700 short in my fundraising!
There are a few answers to that question. At least from my über limited perspective.
Haiti is so poor that they just don’t have the infrastructure and resources to even conceive of a solution. It’s just too big and they have been too dependent on the outside world to help them to solve it themselves.
Culture has put up some major barriers. There are laws and traditions to be obeyed which make seemingly easy problems to fix nearly impossible. For instance, you’d need a permit (which costs money) to haul away the rubble of a home you rent. (which you are still paying the rent for) You have to find the owner, (who might live in Haiti or the U.S., you’ve never met him but only paid his cousin) who has to provide the government (which fell down) with proof of ownership (which was destroyed when government buildings collapsed) before you can hire workers to remove the rubble. (which costs money, and the government hasn’t yet determined where to take all of the rubble)
The poorest of the poor don’t have the social currency to not worry about breaking the law/culture and looking past a lack of resources for the sake of doing some good.
I first thought of this often debated online phrase in the real world while in Haiti in February. Like a lot of relief workers I struggled with what I saw. It just didn’t reconcile with the world I know.
I’m not a sociologist. But this is how I think of social currency.
If my house partially collapsed, killing my family, what would I do? Obviously, I’d call 911 and 6 minutes later a miniature army of highly trained firefighters would show up. Then a news helicopter would fly overhead so that the entire metro area would know what had happened within the hour. In shock and not knowing what else to do, I’d get in an ambulance and go to the hospital. At some point soon after that my insurance agent would call me. I’d call some friends who would rally around me. Within about 48 hours I’d be planning funerals, talking to endless insurance people about life insurance and property insurance, while a group of friends would help me “get back on my feet.” In the meantime, I’d probably stay with some friends or relatives before settling into a long-term hotel that my insurance company would pay for (and going to a years counseling that my health insurance company would pay for) while they took care of hiring contractors to pull permits and level the house before rebuilding it.
That’s a lot of social currency. I’d call on all of those government and financial institutions without thinking about it because I’ve paid into those institutions! I’d call on friends to help because we have a perceived reciprocal society. Just the thought that “they’d do the same for me” would compel them to help.
How would that change if I were the poorest of the poor, living in a country with no infrastructure, and the entire city I lived in collapsed? Those with financial means would leave immediately. This would be the land-owners and business people. Those with no means (the homeless, the orphans, the widows) are just kind of frozen. They don’t know what to do because they don’t know the questions to ask nor the ramifications of what would happen if they “just fixed stuff.” Nor do they have the resources to fix stuff. Nor do they have the energy or equipment to fix stuff.
I remember Seth Barnes asking people what they were going to do and the dialogue always went like this:
What are you going to do about your home?
– I don’t know. I’m waiting for the government to help me.
Has the government ever helped you in the past?
– [laughter] Of course not.
The poorest of the poor are, unfortunately, dependent on help. The real question for them seems to be… what will accepting help cost them? Remember that Haiti is a place of both spiritual and real oppression. Accepting help may land them into a debt that costs a lifetime to repay. This is a place where children are trafficked and labor is unregulated. This is a place where, on a good day, the police are uncaring about your plight. But on a bad day, the police are just as dangerous as the oppressors. They may even be the oppressors in some neighborhoods.
What would you do? You’d laugh at those silly barriers in full knowledge that the landlord wouldn’t care that you cleared the property. At the very least you’d knock down your condemned home and pile up the rubble to be hauled away. Chances are pretty good that you’d also try to organize your neighbors into a group of workers who would go around clearing rubble for other people. Say, old women. That’s the power of social currency. You aren’t frozen. When everyone is stuck, you’d naturally rise up and take action.
This is why you should consider a relief trip to Haiti
If you are a reader of this blog I want to encourage you to find an agency of relief and pray about going to Haiti in the next 12 months. You have resources. You are ignorant of culture barriers. And you have social currency to spare.
In some ways I can’t wait to go back and see how things are progressing. And in other ways I am scared to go back because I think things are a lot worse.
I’ve heard mixed reports.
I’m not going alone.
As our team van lumbered out of Port-au-Prince last February I challenged myself to return in 2010… and to bring others who might catch a vision for how to help the church in Haiti rebuild both spiritually and physically a collapsed nation.
Thankfully, 19 others said yes to my appeal to go with me. It’s a full trip. I was completely shocked and amazed to see who joined the team. It’s an amazing hodgepodge of people from my life. And I cannot wait to see how God uses their service to be both blessed and do some form of blessing.
Without overloading you with information, I want to give you 3 quick reasons I’m returning to Haiti.
While the cameras and celebrities (and the money they bring) have left Haiti, millions remain homeless. 2/3rd of the cities residents still sleep on the ground. Can you imagine “camping” for 6 months, sleeping on the bare dirt, trying to find food every day? The hard work of rebuilding has not begun. This is still very much a relief effort.
The local church is still the primary instrument of relief. My entire adult life I’ve listened to pastors say, “We just need to move the church back to Acts 2.” Well, it is happening in Haiti! And I want to support them however I can. I don’t want to sound judgmental, but I openly wonder where those church leaders are who claim they want to see Acts 2 in their communities. If they were serious they would be in Haiti.
The situation for the orphans and widows is dire. Last week the New York Times published a beautiful piece about a young girl named Daphne. You should read it. Its a story of hope and despair. As you read it ask yourself what I have been asking myself, “Why aren’t believers telling these stories to churches?” I hope to meet some Daphne’s and tell you their stories.
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”James 1:27
Three ways you can get involved
Pray. Commit to praying for our team. 20 people, most of whom have never met, will come together for a common purpose… to serve the Haitian church. Pray for our unity, our physical health, and that God would take our efforts and multiply their effectiveness supernaturally.
Go. Just like last time– you will be able to follow my trip online as I post photos, videos, and blog posts. Will you commit to considering a trip to Haiti in the next 12 months? All I am asking is that you consider it.
It would greatly encourage Kristen and I if you’d simply let us know which of those 3 things you can commit to. Leave us a comment. It can be as simple as your name and which of the three options you can commit to as a way to get involved.
Jean Michelle and Mark Oestriecher – May 27th, 2010
For the last couple of days I’ve been captivated by the stories flowing from my friends on a trip to Port-au-Prince. A group of church leaders is there to launch a partnership program which will pair an American church with a Haitian church. (Follow the team | Give to the program)
This all sprung out of our trip in February. As we travelled around the city we connected with various community leaders and discovered they were all pastors. The church is the only surviving and functional piece of infrastructure in Port-au-Prince right now. Don’t even get me started about the relief/aid organizations.
So Seth Barnes asked if we could meet with some pastors to hear what their needs were. A few hundred pastors representing more than 1000 churches showed up! Realizing God had just unleashed something on this relatively small NGO– Adventures in Missions went back home and talked to their board about what to do. The result was something they are calling the “Church Partnership Program.” Essentially, they are setting up Haitian leaders to form a simple relationship between an existing Haitian church and an American church.
$95 per day
In Haiti, $95 per day is all that is needed to fund the Son of God orphanage. Staff, housing, food, school, clothing, everything… for 125 children.
very soon after arriving in the courtyard of the orphanage/school, jean michelle took my hand. he has a bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes. when i backed up to a ledge he was sitting on, he put his arms around my neck; and for the next hour, he was either on my back, or holding my hand. over and over, he said to me, in broken english: my name is john michael, your name is marko.
jean michelle wrote his name for me on a scrap of paper (he wrote “jhon michil”), gave it to me, and asked me to remember him.
i asked one of our wonderful translators, john, to help me out, and had a little chat with jean michelle. his parents were both killed in the earthquake in january, and he was living on the street when pastor max found him 3 days ago. now he’s in a community of love, and getting an education.
but he’s still hungry. and he still sleeps on a rug, outside, in a courtyard, with 125 other kids, every night.
I can’t speak for you. But this tugs my heart big time. $95 a day feeds 124 other kids like him. It makes me want to consider adoption. It makes me think of the things I spend $95 on all the time. I makes me think that I completely suck as budgeting. It makes me feel guilt and ashamed that I’ve blown that on dinner before. Or that I will blow it again on dinner in full knowledge that I could be helping so many.
But more than anything it’s a call to action. I can’t sit here in knowledge of that and do nothing.
