The other day Wistnell, Dante and I traveled to Milot and Limonade to gather some compost for my research. As we drove in the back of a tap tap (a truck converted into a bus) we passed many things that are common in Haiti. For example, as we came to the main round-about in town a street kid appeared holding an old rag desperately trying to wash a car for whatever loose change the driver had. Another man was limping and had a severe gash in his leg with nothing but a dirty rag to cover it. As I see these things, I still have a hard time comprehending them. I feel as if my mind is a hand full of water, trying hard to retain the water, only to have it squirm between my fingers and be left with a faction of the memory. Such things are not a new occurrence in this country and have been going on for decades only to be ignored by the world and even worse, largely caused by it. I cannot believe God wants these people to live like this while people seek a comfortable life in the US. Many people have told me that God wants us to enjoy the blessings that he has bestowed upon us, yet does that mean that because God has given us 100 dollars we can go and have a fancy dinner while a child starves to death. Just because a child is not starving on your corner, does not mean there is not one starving in the world. In fact, I am surrounded by many of them as I write this now. People may not see the direct connection of money with helping, so maybe I'm the crazy one, but I would like to make clear that I speak of love, not condemnation. Everyone has such a beautiful opportunity to help, and I pray that people trade in their money for the true wealth of love and relationship.
I will finish with a story of when I was driving the other day and saw a dead women laying in the road. As we passed I demanded that we stop to at least move her off the road and say a prayer, yet the people I was with said “not now.” When I was finally able to convey the depth of my concern, they all agree that we could stop when we returned on the way back. I remember just sitting in the back of the car astounded. She was just lying there, dead in the middle of the road. I told them it was not her time to die, but they said nothing in response. I began to fell such a deep sorrow that I cannot explain and do not wish to divulge into. This is frankly not the reality that God has in mind, and to much that is given, much is expected. Let us go forward and together love recklessly.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Complacency or Action
The scene at Port-au-Prince airport is always a place that seems surreal to me. You get on a plane in Miami, one of the wealthiest places in the world, and arrive in a place where some people don't even have enough money to buy a stick of gum. I saw people line the gates gazing in at the newly arrived foreigners with blank stares and such a deep sense of hopelessness. They imagine where those planes have come from and wish that they had the same opportunities to provide financially for their families as these people who are just a plane flight away.
After leaving the airport I rode in the back of a truck, taking in everything that was around me. A collapsed building that still had not been removed and probably had rotting bodies under it, street children washing traffic stopped cars for pennies, and bodies that looked frail and clothed with what would pass for rags back in the U.S. After having been gone for five months now the city still looks just as bad as when I left. This way of life has now become common and many cannot see the solution to the problem without more help, which frankly many will not receive. Yet how can starving people be normal! How can we allow for a child to live without parents or anyone on the planet to care for them! That cannot and is not normal. What I want to portray is that in Haiti, there has been so much suffering and pain that it seems almost impossible to break the cycle of poverty that exist there, thus people have learned to accept it. For example, we were driving back from delivering supplies to tent cities near Delmas and as we weaved through the unpaved and pot hole filled roads we turned a corner and came to a sudden screeching halt. We backed up and and took another road. We did not take that road because in front of the car lay a white linen sheet covering a dead body with a pool of blood beside it. No words were said about the incident. We just continued on as if nothing abnormal had occurred. Wait, a person is dead and their body is sitting in their blood, laying under the sweltering Haitian sun! That is not okay! It's not okay that a father in a refugee camp cannot provide his family with shelter from the lashing rain! It is not okay that a mother has to worry about getting food for her malnutrition children! Although the world may have become accustom to extreme suffering, we cannot allow ourselves to be comfortable with it. Their has to be a sense of urgency to do everything we can to fight poverty. If everyone tried as hard as they could to alleviate poverty image what we could do. Too often people feel they cannot make a large enough difference with the resources they have and will not even try. What I say to that is do what YOU can, don't worry about others. I know others will refuse to help, but you and I are not like them. Do not be complacent with evil. We must continue to fight with all our energy and pour all our resources into helping others who are in far worse situations than our own in order to show our love for one another. For love, not money is the most important thing in life.
Now I do not mean to say that Haiti is some type of hell, for to do so would be very incorrect. The people here, although financially poor, are some of the nicest and most kind you will ever find. For example, Wistnell, a Haitian living in Cap Haitien, will sit with me for hours teaching me Creole without an ounce of frustration or boredom. Furthermore, Tony, who is staying with me in the Cap Haitien house, walks with me wherever I need to go in town without even asking what I am doing it for. Dr. Maklin, a Haitian trained doctor, includes the line in some form or another “Oh, you are so special” in every e-mail I receive. Everyone in the house I am staying at is unfairly kind to me in a way that I like to refer to as “recklessly loving.” I enjoy waking up to their kind faces and being able to say “ou domi byen” (did you sleep well) and get the response “M' domi tre byen, merci. E ou memn.” (I slept very well, thanks. And you yourself) They'll always ask what I am doing today and care very much about my well being. I feel very lucky to be with each and everyone.
I would like to leave you with a quote from the Bible of when a women says to Jesus, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table.” The Haitian people do not ask to be rich, they only ask to live with dignity. Is that too much to ask for. Is dignity too much. Please let us come together, and together we can let them live with dignity.
After leaving the airport I rode in the back of a truck, taking in everything that was around me. A collapsed building that still had not been removed and probably had rotting bodies under it, street children washing traffic stopped cars for pennies, and bodies that looked frail and clothed with what would pass for rags back in the U.S. After having been gone for five months now the city still looks just as bad as when I left. This way of life has now become common and many cannot see the solution to the problem without more help, which frankly many will not receive. Yet how can starving people be normal! How can we allow for a child to live without parents or anyone on the planet to care for them! That cannot and is not normal. What I want to portray is that in Haiti, there has been so much suffering and pain that it seems almost impossible to break the cycle of poverty that exist there, thus people have learned to accept it. For example, we were driving back from delivering supplies to tent cities near Delmas and as we weaved through the unpaved and pot hole filled roads we turned a corner and came to a sudden screeching halt. We backed up and and took another road. We did not take that road because in front of the car lay a white linen sheet covering a dead body with a pool of blood beside it. No words were said about the incident. We just continued on as if nothing abnormal had occurred. Wait, a person is dead and their body is sitting in their blood, laying under the sweltering Haitian sun! That is not okay! It's not okay that a father in a refugee camp cannot provide his family with shelter from the lashing rain! It is not okay that a mother has to worry about getting food for her malnutrition children! Although the world may have become accustom to extreme suffering, we cannot allow ourselves to be comfortable with it. Their has to be a sense of urgency to do everything we can to fight poverty. If everyone tried as hard as they could to alleviate poverty image what we could do. Too often people feel they cannot make a large enough difference with the resources they have and will not even try. What I say to that is do what YOU can, don't worry about others. I know others will refuse to help, but you and I are not like them. Do not be complacent with evil. We must continue to fight with all our energy and pour all our resources into helping others who are in far worse situations than our own in order to show our love for one another. For love, not money is the most important thing in life.
Now I do not mean to say that Haiti is some type of hell, for to do so would be very incorrect. The people here, although financially poor, are some of the nicest and most kind you will ever find. For example, Wistnell, a Haitian living in Cap Haitien, will sit with me for hours teaching me Creole without an ounce of frustration or boredom. Furthermore, Tony, who is staying with me in the Cap Haitien house, walks with me wherever I need to go in town without even asking what I am doing it for. Dr. Maklin, a Haitian trained doctor, includes the line in some form or another “Oh, you are so special” in every e-mail I receive. Everyone in the house I am staying at is unfairly kind to me in a way that I like to refer to as “recklessly loving.” I enjoy waking up to their kind faces and being able to say “ou domi byen” (did you sleep well) and get the response “M' domi tre byen, merci. E ou memn.” (I slept very well, thanks. And you yourself) They'll always ask what I am doing today and care very much about my well being. I feel very lucky to be with each and everyone.
I would like to leave you with a quote from the Bible of when a women says to Jesus, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table.” The Haitian people do not ask to be rich, they only ask to live with dignity. Is that too much to ask for. Is dignity too much. Please let us come together, and together we can let them live with dignity.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Emotions
Today I write in the wake of the most powerful experience of my life. In the past few days, I have never seen such an outpour of emotions. Grown men and women have broken down before my eyes, crying uncontrollably with the fear that loved ones or beloved officials may have died. These are the same people who have survived viscously oppressive dictators, coups, and a national army who’s enemy is not a foreign power, but many times its own citizens. Men who are much wiser and who have experienced so much more than I, were sobbing in my arms as I could only sit there and be present as the radio stations cried on.
I will try and do justice to one of the scenes that I witness the night of the earthquake. A group of us were sitting around the radio, listening and hoping for news that friends and family members were ok. A report came in that the legislative building collapsed on a party with some of the senators in attendance. One of the senators was like a father to many of the people in the house and one of the men, whom had been extremely nice and upbeat the entire time I was there, began to sob uncontrollably. As he sat in his chair shriveling into a ball in pain, weeping, all we could do is sit next to him and do and be present. I cannot describe the pain that emanated from him that rippled into my heart. This was not a cry that I had ever witness. It was not the typical crying I had seen in America of people who had just broken up, or of people who had just got a bad grade on a test. This was an uncontrollable, totally exposed breakdown. (I do not mean to quantify suffering, but I just want to portray what I saw in some context everyone can understand)
I cannot wholly explain the sorrow people felt, for I cannot fully comprehend it to be honest. I have such a strong love for these people and it is very hard to see them suffer in such a way. These once always cheerful people have been literally brought to their knees in pain.
So much has happened that I really don’t know how to continue, but I will end it like this. Although the international community has chosen to marginalize this country and people have gone about their days allowing this to continue, I pray that motivation does not dwindle for this beautiful country. Instead, I hope that rather than letting the country descend into absolute poverty again, something evil can be made good, and all people including Haitians, can live without fear of dying from things that are easily accessible. Thank you for reading and please pray for the people suffering in Haiti.
I will try and do justice to one of the scenes that I witness the night of the earthquake. A group of us were sitting around the radio, listening and hoping for news that friends and family members were ok. A report came in that the legislative building collapsed on a party with some of the senators in attendance. One of the senators was like a father to many of the people in the house and one of the men, whom had been extremely nice and upbeat the entire time I was there, began to sob uncontrollably. As he sat in his chair shriveling into a ball in pain, weeping, all we could do is sit next to him and do and be present. I cannot describe the pain that emanated from him that rippled into my heart. This was not a cry that I had ever witness. It was not the typical crying I had seen in America of people who had just broken up, or of people who had just got a bad grade on a test. This was an uncontrollable, totally exposed breakdown. (I do not mean to quantify suffering, but I just want to portray what I saw in some context everyone can understand)
I cannot wholly explain the sorrow people felt, for I cannot fully comprehend it to be honest. I have such a strong love for these people and it is very hard to see them suffer in such a way. These once always cheerful people have been literally brought to their knees in pain.
So much has happened that I really don’t know how to continue, but I will end it like this. Although the international community has chosen to marginalize this country and people have gone about their days allowing this to continue, I pray that motivation does not dwindle for this beautiful country. Instead, I hope that rather than letting the country descend into absolute poverty again, something evil can be made good, and all people including Haitians, can live without fear of dying from things that are easily accessible. Thank you for reading and please pray for the people suffering in Haiti.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Dignified Poverty
Over the past few days I have learn and scene things that no textbooks, no statistic could ever do justice. When I say 30,000 kids die each year can you really picture it. Every day here in Haiti is a survival for its citizens whom over 50% live on less than 1$ a day and 78% live on less than 2$ a day. People are everywhere trying to survive with what little they have. When we drive around town and I wave at people from the back of the truck and see people digging through garbage, washing in dirty water, and going to the bathroom wherever they can find privacy. What kind of life is this. This is injustice. These people work harder than anyone I have ever met, and at the end of the day come away with nothing.
On my trip we were able to visit Milot to see the dry toilets operating. Many people in the US are rather repulsed at the thought of talking about sanitation, but in countries like this it is a huge problem. Imagine not having anywhere to go the bathroom. That is what these people face every day and with people defecating in public areas they are exposed to many diseases. SOIL builds toilets that collect the waste and then transforms it into valuable fertilizer. It was amazing to see the toilets and fields where they plant a variety of plants.
What really disturbs me about Haiti is the amount of street kids. It is estimated that over half of Haiti’s kids are street kids who eke out a living on the streets begging. They are so vulnerable to terrible forces and often times resort to huffing paint thinner. I can’t blame them for doing so, but quite frankly that is the worst thing you can do because they kill brain cells. Also, many of the kids are exposed to a variety of diseases. For example, the other day the two boys who I helped brought a boy to me who was throwing up. He was about 8 years old so I had to refer them to a medical clinic in a nearby village called Shada. When they came back so that I could hold and give them their medicine periodically throughout the day I asked the boys where they get their water. They told me they drink whatever they can get which includes puddles which often is filled with bacteria and worms that live inside your intestine.
Another experience I had was going to the town limonade to inaugurate a toilet. Limonade is out in the country and I can surely conclude that it was the poorest rural city I have ever seen. A huge pile of trash lay right next to the river which had trash and livestock flanking either side. Human feces lay in the dirt road and the houses had holes all over the place. It was quite a sight. It was great though to see everyone so excited to have a place to go to the bathroom.
Also, we visited a village Shada which is the worst slum in Cap Haitien. It is by far the worst urban poverty I have ever seen. It was hard to image since I had lived in the US my whole life, but trash was everywhere. There was about 10 meters of trash piled up on either side of the river and algae was growing all over it. Houses were poorly made and mud and dirt filled the spaces in-between houses. The canals that existed had water that looked like water from a sewer plant. We were taken to a house where a mother took out her child which was 8 months old and weighed around 11 pounds. I could see the bones in the baby’s frail body and saw its ribs as the helpless child struggled with every breath.
I can’t explain everything that has happened to me, for it seems like another world here, yet I love these people with all my heart. Jean Bertrand Aristide said it best that all Haiti’s citizens ask for is to live in dignified poverty and I hope that one day no Haitian has to die of starvation or of easily curable disea
ses.
On my trip we were able to visit Milot to see the dry toilets operating. Many people in the US are rather repulsed at the thought of talking about sanitation, but in countries like this it is a huge problem. Imagine not having anywhere to go the bathroom. That is what these people face every day and with people defecating in public areas they are exposed to many diseases. SOIL builds toilets that collect the waste and then transforms it into valuable fertilizer. It was amazing to see the toilets and fields where they plant a variety of plants.
What really disturbs me about Haiti is the amount of street kids. It is estimated that over half of Haiti’s kids are street kids who eke out a living on the streets begging. They are so vulnerable to terrible forces and often times resort to huffing paint thinner. I can’t blame them for doing so, but quite frankly that is the worst thing you can do because they kill brain cells. Also, many of the kids are exposed to a variety of diseases. For example, the other day the two boys who I helped brought a boy to me who was throwing up. He was about 8 years old so I had to refer them to a medical clinic in a nearby village called Shada. When they came back so that I could hold and give them their medicine periodically throughout the day I asked the boys where they get their water. They told me they drink whatever they can get which includes puddles which often is filled with bacteria and worms that live inside your intestine.
Another experience I had was going to the town limonade to inaugurate a toilet. Limonade is out in the country and I can surely conclude that it was the poorest rural city I have ever seen. A huge pile of trash lay right next to the river which had trash and livestock flanking either side. Human feces lay in the dirt road and the houses had holes all over the place. It was quite a sight. It was great though to see everyone so excited to have a place to go to the bathroom.
Also, we visited a village Shada which is the worst slum in Cap Haitien. It is by far the worst urban poverty I have ever seen. It was hard to image since I had lived in the US my whole life, but trash was everywhere. There was about 10 meters of trash piled up on either side of the river and algae was growing all over it. Houses were poorly made and mud and dirt filled the spaces in-between houses. The canals that existed had water that looked like water from a sewer plant. We were taken to a house where a mother took out her child which was 8 months old and weighed around 11 pounds. I could see the bones in the baby’s frail body and saw its ribs as the helpless child struggled with every breath.
I can’t explain everything that has happened to me, for it seems like another world here, yet I love these people with all my heart. Jean Bertrand Aristide said it best that all Haiti’s citizens ask for is to live in dignified poverty and I hope that one day no Haitian has to die of starvation or of easily curable disea
ses.
Monday, January 4, 2010
1st Day
How do I begin. With what words can I explain what I have witness. I will start my story when I stepped out of the airport and was greeted with hugs from people I had never met. I saw a boy, my brother, with a deformed head, and with a leg as skinny as a post and the other swelled with what I presumed to be infected with Lymphatic Filarisis. He asked me for some money and my hat, and I was forced to refuse him, for I told him I would give it to him when I left. (I don't think I could have felt worse in my life for I wish I could give him every hat I had) I struggled to make it to the car where I hoped in the back and we drove away. Kids waved as we left, giving me high fives as we departed.
As we drove through the muddy streets people stared at me and in their eyes was a pain I cannot explain. An exhaustion reserved for a person laboring for what seemed an eternity. I saw people barley clothed, my brothers and sisters with nothing but the clothes on their backs (or lack of). I saw someone digging through trash trying just to find something of value.
When I arrived at the house I was greeted by an array of SOL employees. I cannot remember their names, but even with a language barrier these people offered me genuine love. With hugs and jokes, many of which I did not understand, there amazing smiles allowed me to grasp the love they were giving to me and I can only hope they felt from me.
Sasha and Sarah are such great people. They display all the fruits of the spirit in their kindness, love, pacients, understanding, and generosity they show towards others. I am truly blessed to spend time with both of them.
The most powerful part of my day was when I met two Haitian street boys. The 1st was a boy who had cuts over his feet, back and just above the eye. I initially knew the cut above the eye needed stitches, yet the other wounds I could treat with basic supplies. I use some hydrogen peroxide to clean the cuts and bandaged them up. The cut above the eye was very deep and the boy began to cry as he began to fear we weren’t going to be able to fix it. I calmed him down and rubbed his back until he began to raise his head. We listened to my ipod which he enjoyed until the car came back so we could get him to the hospital. Just as the car arrived another boy came to Sasha and showed her his lip. I asked him to show me and it was deeply cut and was severely infected with bacteria (to the point it looked like there was maggots) so he needed treatment as well.
The guys and I jumped in the back of the truck and we took both of the boys to the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital Sasha went up to the front and was able to get the boys seen by a doctor. I was not ready for what was to come next.
As we began to walk the halls I began to see what I thought was the hospital of a war zone. People were lying down with every type of ailment. Old ladies were lying, coughing, exhausted by their sickness. Men were sprawled out with broken bones and deep gashes. The most severely wounded man was the man who had an old rope tied around his waist and 5 deep gashes in the top of his head. Blood was spilling onto the ground as the doctor tried his best to stitch up the man’s wounds. As I directed the two boys past with somber faces, we entered a room that was just as depressing. About 5 beds were occupied by gravely sick people all with IV’s in their bodies. They lay their lifeless as the doctors tried their best to attend to everyone. The boys were told that they would have to wait so I accompanied the boys to a room with only a few other sick people. We sat and I taught them to write the alphabet and we laughed as they tried to communicate with me by Creole. After a considerable amount of time had transpired, Sasha was able to get the doctors to look at the boys and I accompanied them to the room. There we found a mother and her 3 children on a table. The mother had an IV in her and was shirtless and obviously very sick. Her 3 children were about 4, 6, and 8 and comforted her with stone cold faces as the mother was throwing up blood into a trash can next to her. I tried to make funny faces at the kids who were able to crack a smile (at least for a second). The woman was eventually taken out and a nurse came in and started to stitch up the one boys eye. She had to give him a shot which the boy took as if it were nothing. She finished with the boy and then left. Then, a doctor arrived to treat the other boy with an infected lip. The doctor took the boy’s fat upper and bottom lip and began sticking it with a needle to numb the pain and as he did it tears began to stream down the boys face, yet he refused to flinch. The doctor then used a razor blade to cut out the boys bacteria out and then sanitized the wound. He then had to stitch up the boys lip. I’ve never seen a boy be so braze in my life. We paid for the boys medicine and drove them back to our house. I brought them something down to eat which Sasha had prepared and I gave them their medicines and put a cream on the boys lip. It was pouring outside so I gave each of the boys an extra one of my shirts and sent them into the pouring night. I was so sorry to see them go. They were so helpless I wish I could have cared for them longer. Yet they are just 2 in a huge system of poverty and it is what drives me to want to become a doctor.
I am having the best experience of my life and I would not change this for anything in the world. I thank God for the opportunity to serve these people and I hope I can love them like Jesus loved us.
As we drove through the muddy streets people stared at me and in their eyes was a pain I cannot explain. An exhaustion reserved for a person laboring for what seemed an eternity. I saw people barley clothed, my brothers and sisters with nothing but the clothes on their backs (or lack of). I saw someone digging through trash trying just to find something of value.
When I arrived at the house I was greeted by an array of SOL employees. I cannot remember their names, but even with a language barrier these people offered me genuine love. With hugs and jokes, many of which I did not understand, there amazing smiles allowed me to grasp the love they were giving to me and I can only hope they felt from me.
Sasha and Sarah are such great people. They display all the fruits of the spirit in their kindness, love, pacients, understanding, and generosity they show towards others. I am truly blessed to spend time with both of them.
The most powerful part of my day was when I met two Haitian street boys. The 1st was a boy who had cuts over his feet, back and just above the eye. I initially knew the cut above the eye needed stitches, yet the other wounds I could treat with basic supplies. I use some hydrogen peroxide to clean the cuts and bandaged them up. The cut above the eye was very deep and the boy began to cry as he began to fear we weren’t going to be able to fix it. I calmed him down and rubbed his back until he began to raise his head. We listened to my ipod which he enjoyed until the car came back so we could get him to the hospital. Just as the car arrived another boy came to Sasha and showed her his lip. I asked him to show me and it was deeply cut and was severely infected with bacteria (to the point it looked like there was maggots) so he needed treatment as well.
The guys and I jumped in the back of the truck and we took both of the boys to the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital Sasha went up to the front and was able to get the boys seen by a doctor. I was not ready for what was to come next.
As we began to walk the halls I began to see what I thought was the hospital of a war zone. People were lying down with every type of ailment. Old ladies were lying, coughing, exhausted by their sickness. Men were sprawled out with broken bones and deep gashes. The most severely wounded man was the man who had an old rope tied around his waist and 5 deep gashes in the top of his head. Blood was spilling onto the ground as the doctor tried his best to stitch up the man’s wounds. As I directed the two boys past with somber faces, we entered a room that was just as depressing. About 5 beds were occupied by gravely sick people all with IV’s in their bodies. They lay their lifeless as the doctors tried their best to attend to everyone. The boys were told that they would have to wait so I accompanied the boys to a room with only a few other sick people. We sat and I taught them to write the alphabet and we laughed as they tried to communicate with me by Creole. After a considerable amount of time had transpired, Sasha was able to get the doctors to look at the boys and I accompanied them to the room. There we found a mother and her 3 children on a table. The mother had an IV in her and was shirtless and obviously very sick. Her 3 children were about 4, 6, and 8 and comforted her with stone cold faces as the mother was throwing up blood into a trash can next to her. I tried to make funny faces at the kids who were able to crack a smile (at least for a second). The woman was eventually taken out and a nurse came in and started to stitch up the one boys eye. She had to give him a shot which the boy took as if it were nothing. She finished with the boy and then left. Then, a doctor arrived to treat the other boy with an infected lip. The doctor took the boy’s fat upper and bottom lip and began sticking it with a needle to numb the pain and as he did it tears began to stream down the boys face, yet he refused to flinch. The doctor then used a razor blade to cut out the boys bacteria out and then sanitized the wound. He then had to stitch up the boys lip. I’ve never seen a boy be so braze in my life. We paid for the boys medicine and drove them back to our house. I brought them something down to eat which Sasha had prepared and I gave them their medicines and put a cream on the boys lip. It was pouring outside so I gave each of the boys an extra one of my shirts and sent them into the pouring night. I was so sorry to see them go. They were so helpless I wish I could have cared for them longer. Yet they are just 2 in a huge system of poverty and it is what drives me to want to become a doctor.
I am having the best experience of my life and I would not change this for anything in the world. I thank God for the opportunity to serve these people and I hope I can love them like Jesus loved us.
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