In the last few days I have seen yet another face of Haiti, and I would like to share that with you. As you might know, Laura Lynn who came with me right after the quake arrived in Gonaives where she was hired to start teaching at a newly built school. Yesterday I finally had a chance to travel to this coastal city which does not have a very good reputation as being a safe town; I was curious about it to say the least. Our trip there was not uneventful—like something was working against us going there. For one thing, I have been on bad roads so much this trip that my body aches all the time. That might be age too…oh well. Our truck that was going to bring us there broke down at five in the morning and it took until seven before we were on the road. In the next town the driver stopped to have “a few” little things done to make it run better. One of them was to repair the leaking oil plug. Two men crawled under the truck after they had drained the motor oil. To my astonishment they were going to weld a new rigged plug under the truck. Mario, who had shown up the evening before with the first load of bananas, and I sought shelter because we were sure the thing was going to blow up. It took only a few minutes for that to happen! The guys forgot to take the filler cap off and the heat made the gasses blow out through the bottom. We heard a loud sound like a big firecracker and seconds later the two men crawled out from under the truck with burned faces and arms. Instead of giving up they were back under there fifteen minutes later. In Haiti there is no sick leave; life goes on.
Four hours later it became clear that the truck was not going to run after the wire harness turned out to have been toasted. We decided to get on some motor taxis and the pain started. Two hours into the trip the tire on our bike blew and after walking for a couple of miles it turned out that the hole was bigger than my fist. I did not believe it could be fixed and still don’t had I not seen it with my own eyes. These guys are masters of the impossible. To make a long story short we rode to Gonaives and arrived at the mission house just before dark. The drivers and Paulius had gone back to the plateau and got there after midnight.
Life is not easy for people here. I was welcomed by a loving missionary couple and Laura Lynn. I had a shower: what a blessing!
This morning Laura Lynn and I took the motor cycle to go to Jubilee in the salt flats. The people there are mockingly called the “dirt eaters” and for good reason. The whole area is one mud puddle that luckily was dry this time. In the middle of nowhere stood a tin roofed, one room school with a lot of little children gathered around on the mud. Coming closer it did not get any better. There were a lot of children with red hair (protein deficiency) covered with mud stains from head to toe. I cannot begin to tell you how I fell in love with these forgotten children. From the moment I parked the bike till the moment I left I had kids hanging around my neck four or five at the time. There was such an acute need for love that it still hurts while I am writing this. While school was going on I slipped outside and sat in the shade with at least thirty of them who for various reasons are not in school and who were all trying to sit on me. I made pictures and showed their faces on the display of the digital camera. The excitement was overwhelming. I told them about Jesus, and I will never forget their faces when they heard about an everlasting life where there will be no more pain, hunger, tears and fear. They had to touch my tears and were wondering why I was crying while sitting there praying over their little bent-over heads with eyes closed. They understood when I told them Jesus made me cry. It was one of the most amazing moments in my life.
The work that Laura Lynn does there is simply awesome. With the help of three other teachers they teach these little kids all kinds of things that are new for them. It is a joy to see them respond in their own way. I cannot tell you how proud I am to know such a wonderful person. After school she and I went to “repack” a little child with a broken femur that needed to go to a hospital but likely never will. Being in between the more than humbling little mud huts does a job on your conscience. I pray that this little one will walk again someday.
At noon the feeding center at the school must feed well over two hundred children. I played guitar and sang with them as I did for the 52 school kids. I love the way Haitian kids pick up on songs and will sing them for the rest of their lives.
Friends, although the burden on my heart is even bigger than it was before I came to Gonaives, I would not have wanted to miss it for the world. I am getting close to leaving Haiti. Lord willing I will fly back to Atlanta on Monday. I know that I will have a very hard time adjusting this time. God is not showing me these things without a reason, and I have to do whatever I can to feed, clothe, and help these little ones who are reaching out to me. Please help me with this!
