Haiti 2011: June Ninth

Our day today started slowly. We woke up later than normal, and didn't start work until 9:00. A teammate noted that this mission trip has been different than any other, that we have time to think and relate. She was right. Our workweek started with full days of work, but yesterday and today involved much less. We washed the two cars today, painted the rest of the second floor's banister, and moved furniture. The highlight of the day, surprisingly, happened at breakfast. A few of us talked with the director, a doctor-administrator named Ken, about how he came here, where Hands and Feet is going, and about the inspiration a charitable woman has been to he and his wife. I found it inspiring that Hands and Feet plans to expand into eleven orphanages, to nearly four times their current size. I learned that the people here are giving these kids the chance at a future. Ken was told, for instance, that one boy-- Marco-- can be apprenticed to become a commercial pilot. I remember thinking on the drive through Port-au-Prince that the people who live in these conditions-- so densely populated, so thick with poverty-- have no chance at a future outside that poverty. The hope these children have indicates why a place like this is so important.

After work, we went to a resort hotel, where we were served a large lunch amid a neatly preened restaurant. Hammocks on either side of you, blue ocean and tropical foliage in the background, stone paths through trimmed grass, and a clear pool helped me see the other side of Haiti. I had read that there is a small Haitian elite, but until now, I hadn't seen evidence of that other than a few nicer cars in Port-au-Prince. Here it was: we were served our choice of beverage and ample food. I'm surprised at the incredible nearness of this oasis to its surrounding poverty: just outside the hotel are the dilapidated, yet typically colorful businesses on an open highway, driving by tap-taps and motorcyclists, among others.

Life in Jacmel-- as in Port-au-Prince-- seems slower than in the U.S., but I think that is because we've been less busy with our day-to-day errands and technology and more able to relate with those around us. I think this is one of the benefits of Haiti, that amid this poverty, malnutrition, and disease, these people seem to be rich in relationships. As an example, I wrote most of this entry while the staff watched many of the older boys perform an improvised drum concert on buckets. Applause erupted after each performance (many were good). Before that, these same boys had marched around the square chanting that one person (either a staff member or one of the team) loved someone else. They included me in this, and most of the team.