Joy on Monday

The team had a remarkable day here in Haiti, culminating in a joyful time with refugee children camped outside Ans-a-Pitre.

I want to write about those experiences but I first want to briefly address an important matter: this was the team's first day with coffee since arriving in the DR. Our previous lodgings had not offered morning joe, and buying a cup made with local water can be a risky proposition. For some of us, coffee is more than a morning routine–it is a necessity. And our energy level was high when we left our hotel in the morning.

Another important detail: this was the team's first day with cash. Our first order of the day was standing in line for an hour at a local bank to swap US dollars for pesos. At last, we were empowered to buy sundries and trinkets.

Two major service projects anchored our day. First, our team worked at Sadhana  Forest in the morning. We mixed compost, sorted recycling, built a garden bed, and helped to prepare lunch for twenty-one volunteers from four different countries…five if you count California. The loss of Haiti's natural forest over the course of three centuries is a tragedy colored by complex political and economic circumstances. See, e.g., http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?nstoryId=123374267.  But it's encouraging to think of the incremental progress being made each day.

The second part of our day took us six miles outside of town to a refugee camp. Some context may be helpful. During the past two months, a long-running immigration dispute between the DR and Haiti has come to a head. An article about it can be found here: http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/foreigners/2015/07/haiti_s_refugee_crisis_the_heartbreaking_plight_of_haitians_kicked_out_of.html. When Rev. Kara was out for a run last week, she found one of these “repatriated” refugee camps about six miles outside of Ains-a-Pitre. Our team decided–at her suggestion–to spend a large chunk of our time this week finding ways to service this largely forgotten camp.

The camp is 500+ people. It has no clean water source and no access to medical care. It is located six miles from the edge of town in a desert of rocks, brush and cactus. When the wind blows hard, the tents made of sticks and used clothing resemble boats at full sail. The largest solid structure is a church with a thatched roof and walls; it seats about sixty people.

These refugees have more needs than we could ever hope to address in one week. But our team had an idea. All eight of us piled into the back of a pickup truck with backpacks full of crayons and coloring books. When we arrived at the camp, we asked the church's pastor to spread the word that all children in the camp could join us in the church for some coloring time.  It was magic. Within minutes, the church was filled with more than forty smiling children anxious for a colorful diversion from the afternoon heat. Even parents and teenagers joined us in the church to see just what the ruckus was all about.

We all talked about this experience tonight when we got back to our hotel. None of us will ever forget the smiles on the children's faces–and how something so simple could bring so much joy. And perhaps those smiling faces were His eyes looking back at us.

–John, with much thanks to the whole team

FIrst day in Haiti

Today was our first day crossing over into Haiti. It was also my first time experiencing the crossing. We went to church in Ansapit, and then we went to Sadhana Forest. We had to get to the border early because sometimes it can take a while to get through, but we also could get there too early because the border stations don’t open until 8:00 in the morning.

When we got to the border on the Dominican side, we had to fill out those migration cards like you do at the airport; it wasn’t too much trouble for us to leave the Dominican Republic. When we got to the border on the Haiti side, however, it took us a little longer because each of us had to turn in our passports and a fee; then, the border guards had to fill everything out by hand. Before we were able to give them our passports, I was a little worried that we wouldn’t be allowed in, but it did work out.

Church had already started by the time we arrived, but the ushers there pointed us out to some seats right in the front where we could all sit together. I have been to church services in other countries before, but this was one of the first times where I did not understand the language of the service. It was such a good experience, though, because I could still get a sense of being in worship, despite not understanding the language. At one point, Kara was invited up to tell the congregation who we were. They then all sang a welcome song for us. I just felt so welcomed during that service. They sang a lot, and several times, people from the congregation would come up to us as we were struggling to figure out what song everyone was currently singing. Sometimes they would take our hymnals and turn them to the right page; other times, they would just hand us a new hymnal with the page already turned to the right song. It was a nice experience being able to worship with the church in Haiti.

After church, we walked over to Sadhana Forest. I’ve heard about Kara’s visits to Sadhana Forest over the years, but this was my first time getting to see it myself. It takes a lot of dedication to keep up their reforestation effort, and I really admire what Sadhana Forest is trying to do. We spent some time resting while Kara helped make lunch. We had lunch with several of the people who are currently volunteering at Sadhana. Kara took us on a tour around the property.

After our visit to Sadhana today, we walked back to the border and walked back to the Dominican Republic.

One thing I noticed about the trip over the border was just how different things looked in the Dominican Republic vs. in Haiti. The roads in Pedernales, for examples, are generally all paved, but in Haiti, we walked on a lot more gravel roads, especially towards Sadhana Forest where you aren’t right in the center of the city. I know both places experience poverty, but I hadn’t thought about how different that would look in each country.

Saturday: Driving Towards the Here and Now

Today´s drive from Santo Domingo to Pedernales was an exercise in releasing control of my to-do list and moving with the events of the day.

We woke up in Santo Domingo and four of us ran along a beautiful beach, accompanied by a gorgeous sunrise.  After a roof-top breakfast consisting of the local fruits and cereal, our two cars headed in a south westerly direction on Route 2.  After a few uneventful hours of highway driving punctuated by "are we there yet" queries, we stopped in Barahona to visit our missionary friend Jessica Hogan and her parents, Marty and Lisa. Their call is to distribute food to the stateless Haitians who have lived in the Domincan Republic bateys for generations.  These people of Haitian descent were brought to the Dominican Republic to work in the sugar industry.  Jessica´s family also supports the efforts of the local Haitian pastor, Pastor Ramon. 

After an enjoyable lunch of pizza in Barahona, we packed into our respectives cars for a drive along a terrain much different from the progressively drier terrain we left behind.

Chickens, cows, horses, goats, pigs, and children all mosied or scurried in and along Route 44 with its breath-taking view of the coast and mountains, and mountainous speed bumps.

We arrived in Pedernales as the sun was setting.  We quickly dropped our bags at the hostel and went to our restaurant near the ocean where, family style, we relaxed to a satisfying meal of beans, rice, salad, plantains, and eggs.

In time, we returned to our rooms, wondering what adventures Sunday would bring us.  One certainty, the to-do list I brought Santo Domingo will be forgotten. 

-Sterling

A Highway in the Desert

A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord!
Make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
A voice says, “Cry out.”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”

-Isaiah 40:3-6

As I've spent this last week preparing for our BUMC group's arrival on the island, I have had many of the "prepare ye the way" passages from the Hebrew  scriptures, as well as several Advent/Christmas songs, running through my head. Never before, though, had I noticed how these scriptures are so steeped in desert and water imagery. As someone living in a temperate, developed pocket of the world, the pictures painted in the Bible about barren wastelands, straight highways, and springs gushing up in the desert are nice to think about, but they don't directly relate to my day-to-day experience. Spending eight days in a place that hasn't had rain for eight months, however, has transformed the power this imagery has to elicit almost a visceral response in me. I am thirsty here. Everything is thirsty here. Sadhana Forest, the reforestation project where we work, has put a hold on planting,amything until the rains come again. People are hauling water great distances just to drink and wash. The dust is overwhelming, and it's hard to think about anything, outside of getting enough to drink and protecting myself and others from the sun and the dust.

And here, in this harsh and barren place, I am to prepare a way for seven people who have stepped out in faith and agreed to join me? I can imagine the ancient Hebrew prophets in their own deserts, wondering how they were supposed to prepare a way for God in the midst of destruction, fear, and hopelessness. 

I don't have a great answer, but I did read the passages again this evening, after I collected the group fromthe Santo Domingo airport and we ate together in a quirky artists' enclave. I notice  that the prophets don't say that they are the ones making the way or causing the waters to spring up.  They are only heralds, workers in the fields, and people who re-orient us toward a God who makes the way. The prophets`job is to be present with the people in their most despairing times. With their presence, they keep faith alive, carrying a candle for God in the places where people´s hands are too full, or where their spirits are too drained.

Looking back, there have been many prophets in my life this week. Enolve, the Haitian reforestation volunteer who carried my water bucket when I protested that I simply couldn'tgo on without breakfast first. Enolve began to sing a song as we walked, and he looked me im the eyes and told me I was strong.

Another person, Lixonne, brought his guitar to a makeshift camp outside the city and got the people there, of every age, to stand up and sing  powerful songs in Creole about freedom, standing up, and protecting human dignity.

God is all around us, and prophetss help me to see and feel that truth. They remind me to keep the path open and to ¨never never never give up.¨ I pray that this week, as we give thanks for and support to the prophets in Haiti, we also might, in some small way, join their ranks, calling attention to the presence of God in what  others have dismissed as a barren desert.