Reflections from Haiti

Yesterday is a day I will be processing for a long time. The delirium of beginning a drive to Haiti at 3:45am and returning at midnight keeps me from really being able to fully understand what yesterday will continue to mean as I rest and recover. I think I have gotten to a point in my life where I can enter into the heartbreaking conditions of third-world countries without focusing on how bad things really are. I have seen it so many times, so I am able to walk in and focus on loving the people I meet and getting to know their stories without engaging too much with how poor the conditions really are. Intellectually, I know it and I see it, but emotionally, I am able to be there without letting myself be gripped by all that I am seeing. That first mission trip feeling of being shocked by how people live has long since passed. Yesterday, Haiti broke me out of that. It was impossible to shut off my emotions as I drove through Port au Prince and thought about all that has transpired in the last six months for these people around me.

There was rubble all around us, piled high in the streets because the crumbles of concrete have nowhere else to go. Everywhere you turn, there are tent cities where thousands upon thousands of people have been living since the beginning of January. Some of them are real tents, but some people don't even have those, so instead are living in tent-like structures made out of tree branches and tarps provided by aid organizations. There is no running water or sanitation in these tent cities, and each one has only a few portable toilets for everyone to use. The smell is unbelievable when you open windows in the bus or get out of the car, and it is heartbreaking. Port au Prince is a sea of humanity, with millions of people packed in, trying to get back to their normal lives. There are markets, people selling clothes and food on the side of the road, and people clearly walking to or from work just on any other day. But amidst all of that normalcy are collapsed buildings, signs saying 'We need help please,' people still recovering from injury, tents in front of collapsed houses which have yet to be repaired, and spray-painted indicators on each house telling whether they are condemned, fixable, or already livable. Proof of the earthquake is everywhere, and it is hard to imagine how this city will ever recover.

Even as we entered the grounds of Mission Rescate to unload supplies and work, our last view before turning into those gates was the severely damaged and partially collapsed Presidential Palace. It is impossible to forget why we are here and the tragedy these people have survived. We unloaded our 3000 bottles of water, clothes, and medical supplies, with the help of 5 lively, smiling, energetic young boys. They greeted Anna and Emmanuel, the leaders of Mission Emanuel's Haitian Care Team, with hugs, jokes, and laughs. They sang American pop songs to us that they learned from the radio. We introduced ourselves, hung out with these kids for a bit, and then got put to work elsewhere. Half of our group was packing food bags for families containing rice, water, and other essentials. The other half went to the clinic, where patients came in, gave us a paper proving they had seen the doctor, and then were given one of these bags of food. Standing in the clinic, I had a few minutes alone with a 12 year old boy named Emmanuel, Mani for short. We talked using a combo of french, spanish, and english (the only time high school french has ever paid off in the DR!). As we talked, laughed, and got to know each other, I was struck by the knowledge that this sweet young boy who didn't want to leave my side had suffered the loss of most of his family only six months ago. He is living in a tent, in a city full of despair and sadness, and yet he stands beside me with a smile on his face. Maybe he is young and resilient, maybe he is in denial, or maybe he is trying to move through tragedy the only way he knows how. No matter what the reason for the smiles, I still find it incredible.

There is so much I could describe or tell you, but I just don't know how. Mission Rescate is doing incredible work, and has assembled a team of people willing to sleep in tents and live in poor conditions themselves in order to care for the Haitian people. Just as the Haitians live without running water or sanitation, so do these missionaries at Mission Rescate. There were Dominicans, Haitians, and Americans working here to help the city of Port au Prince recover from tragedy. I am incredibly thankful for my day there, and humbled by the way these people are willing to sacrifice in order to help other children of God. It makes me think about what I can do for Haiti, and how I am called to give back to these people who need so much. I am praying and hoping God will show me a way. Will you pray with me for the Haitian people? Will you pray for ideas and resources to help? I know I didn't go to Haiti just to see it and forget about it. So now the question becomes 'what next?' How can we do more for the Haitian people? How can we help Mission Rescate with the incredible work they are giving their lives to?