Hello, friends and family! This is Rob, one last time.

As I write this, we are 20,000 feet over the Caribbean ocean, in a pressurized, air-conditioned cabin. When you read it, I will probably already be home. Though we are only a few hundred miles from Haiti, it seems more like light years. Light years from the dust and diesel exhaust pouring into the Tap-tap as we bounce our way past tent villages, street-side shops, and stripped, broken-down cars. As we took off, we could see the tent villages jammed onto little strips of land next to warehouses or highways. We could also see the mountainsides where landslides wiped out hundreds of homes in a moment.

Yesterday was the six-month anniversary of the earthquake. It is impossible to estimate how vast the damage of the earthquake was. Six months after the earthquake, the airport is using a corrugated cargo shed as its Arrivals terminal. The real terminal has large cracks running through the concrete and there is not a single man or piece of equipment working to repair it. The presidential palace, which we could see out the window, lies vacant and broken, with sight-lines like a Picasso painting. How can you try to estimate the damage when two key pieces of infrastructure like that haven’t been touched in half-a-year? The UN tried to get a list of operational hospitals from the Haitian government and found that fifty percent of the hospitals and clinics on the official list were no longer in existence, or no longer operational. We met a nurse from an Adventist hospital downtown. She said they had been without power for three days. There had been a mix-up in paying the electricity bill so the city shut it off. Because their generator had caught fire a few weeks earlier, no power meant the water pump shut off too. An eighty-bed hospital was without electricity or water in 98-degree heat. The nurse’s room was a bed in one of the hospital rooms, shared with a hospital patient.

I share these things to help you know how overwhelming the need feels here. The systems were broken long before the homes were. To be honest, it can be overwhelming if you look at the larger view. A frequent topic of conversation among our team (especially the problem-solving alpha males) was how we wished we could fix the systems, how relatively easy it could be to provide these people with reasonable living arrangements, reliable public services like trash removal (they burn their piles of trash on the street) or clean drinking water (they rely on unpredictable water trucks or underground cisterns which sometimes have trash or waste in them).

But let me paint another picture for you. Adline is a woman of maybe 45. She has five girls and three boys. Their home collapsed in the earthquake, but no one was hurt. The oldest boy, Woodson, 20, makes deliveries for a local shop. Adline does laundry for Partners in Development, hanging it to dry on lines slung over the walls where her new home is being built. When Adline makes the seven-minute walk to deliver the clean laundry to PID and pick up the day’s dirty laundry, her six-month old daughter, Essoilinne, and four-year old daughter, Cristina, are cared for by her 6-year old son, Bebe. When her 12-year-old son, Billy, returns from school, he helps prepare their food, usually rice or plantains. Together they play, they laugh, they cry. They live in two tents, both under a tarp that is slung from tree branches and reinforcement bar on top of a nearby unfinished wall. Their eyes are a beautiful mocha brown, their teeth clean and white, their smiles quick and broad. Adline is fond of saying, “God bless you, my friend,” in Creole and is quick with a laugh and smile when she hears, “Amen,” in reply.

This is the family whose foundation we built. They are still probably a month or more from having a home, but their hope and joy were palpable, and as we left, we shared the bittersweet tears of friends who part almost as quickly as they met, friends who toiled side-by-side through heat and rain and sweat. We were told by PID’s construction director that he was extremely impressed by our work this week. He thanked us for our strength and our love for the family and the other workers (who found great glee in teaching us salty Creole words instead of the actual names for the people and objects around us). This team from OSLC, most of whom had never met one another six weeks ago, changed the lives of that family.

Let me paint another picture for you. Jean-Claude Alcide squats in a four-man Coleman tent, waving flies off his son, Nicoury. Nicoury has cerebral palsy and will not live more than eight weeks more. He is probably about 10 or 11. Jean-Claude lives with his wife and her mother, with five of his own children, and his two grandchildren. Their mother, his daughter, was killed in the earthquake when their house collapsed. They moved into a tent in the city square, but were forced to re-locate. The government told them they would have a village on a farm. They were put in the corner of a sugar cane field owned by the Barbancourt rum factory. There is no drainage system, no septic. At the entrance to the village is a hog barn. Next to it is a tent the village uses for birthing. There are 2500 people on what must be about 10 acres of land, divided into three sections.

One day, as PID nurses walked through the tent village, Jean-Claude cried out to them, “You must help my son!” Nicoury was seizing and he was not breathing. Jean-Claude handed his son to these three white people in scrubs, who immediately rushed him away to the clinic. Jean-Claude didn’t know their names, their affiliation, or the location of their clinic. So desperate was he that he gave his son to complete strangers just because they looked like doctors. The nurses were able to revive and stabilize Nicoury. They returned him to Jean-Claude and his understandably panic-stricken wife the next day. She had been away from the tent when Nicoury was taken and didn’t know where her son was. Since that day, PID has been delivering anti-seizure medicine for Nicoury, as well as medication to Ashley, Jean-Claude’s younger son who has a badly swollen and infected leg, and to Jeanle, the four-year old grandson who has ringworm on his cheek.

On Sunday night, we asked Gale how much it would cost to feed this family of ten in their two small tents for a month. She said about $25-30. Our team is now sponsoring the whole family for the entire year at $50 a month to help offset the cost of the medicine. With pride, Jean-Claude arranged his family outside their tent for a family photo. We took the photo and said a prayer with them, thanking God for his endless love and perfect care.

Haiti is far too damaged to fix. There is no way to even estimate how many lives were lost in the earthquake. Countless bodies are still in the rubble and you cannot check public records if public records are not kept. If you look at the entire picture, you lock up, you freeze. The damage is too vast, the corruption and dysfunction too crippling. But if you look at Adline and her family, or at Jean-Claude and his, you can see hope, love, and a future.

I feel like I leave this trip with a better sense of why God became human, and what that means. When God looks at humanity, he doesn’t just see our broken system – the unending pattern of sin and failure – he sees faces, lives, stories. He didn’t just die to save humanity, he died to save each human. If I have anything to be thankful for because of this trip, it is that God has shown me how He works here on earth. He does it through relationships. I have been blessed to form some fast, but very strong relationships with about a dozen or more Haitians and Christ’s love has flowed through me to them and through them to me. On returning to the USA and our comfortable daily lives, I pray that each one of us would grow those same relationships with the people around us every day. Grow the relationships and then let Christ’s love and truth flow through them. That’s how the world changes – you change one person’s world at a time.

Thank you all for your prayers, your love, and your support. I hope I get to return the favor sometime – where will you go?

Rob

Week in review

Hello all from Brian! Well, we will be home tomorrow, and what a week it was, starting with a team that only the Lord could have picked and known that we would not only get along, and work hard together, but we all agree we will miss each other and the camaraderie…not that we don’t want to get home to see our families, because we do!
For the construction crew, it was extremely hard work, without much relief. You can’t just run in the house for a cold drink, or enjoy the AC. Our respite was warm water and some shade under a few palms. God really watched over us, none of pulled a muscle, got hurt beyond a few scratches, or even got sunburned. We accomplished far more than I ever thought we would with His help. In a few weeks (or less!) this family will be able to move from a tent with canvas extensions, into a new house. We got to know their family, from Momma to her 8 kids. We left them some gifts and food today, a prayer and some hugs. We will never forget them. (Picture: Church we attended Sunday)

The clinical crew was taking care of babies, patients and making ‘house’ calls. I think they all got some additional experience, and for sure saw things they had never seen before. They were busy all day. People lined up early in the waiting area outside, and seemed to never stop. They can’t get enough help and supplies for these people, who ALWAYS say, “Merci Jesus”.

Mike N spent a lot of time on the compound with sporadic help from the crew. He made a desk, put up shelves, made a whole ‘shed’ type roof for their patio and a lot more. We missed him on the site, but I’m glad that we had him to get some handyman things done.

I had one day away from the team. As some of you know, I am a student pilot, and I have some aspirations of using that for mission aviation. There is an organization that brings our Sudan team in and out, called Mission Aviation Fellowship(MAF) They deliver teams, supplies and natives to and from remote areas. I had a chance to fly a few missions here and Haiti, and I did that on Friday. We flew 3 missions delivery missionary groups, much like us, to some remote areas. I met a pilot and a young man in the office whose faith was inspiring and I got an idea of what is involved in this critical role in Gods plan that WE spread his word and love.



We finished our study of the book of James last night and it just reinforced to me how much group study and fellowship are important to understanding, encouraging and living by Gods word. We helped many people, but only a fraction of those who need it. I think this was a different trip, not just being the first time OSLC has come to Haiti, but the fact that we came to help with earthquake relief instead of the normal agenda of a VBS to host, or a Seminary to document, just plain old hard work. To our amazement and delight, we weren’t alone. We met the most faithful, thankful, loving people we could have ever asked for. It was worth every bead of sweat. (and there was a lot!)

Hey everybody, this is Rob.

The computer was free while everyone finishes dinner, so I just hopped on to let you know that your prayers are working. We even survived our day off. Though, to be honest, it might have been the toughest day for me. I started off by visiting a tent village, to take some medication to children with ringworm, infections, and cerebral palsy. By 2pm, I was snorkeling in the Caribbean. The incongruence was staggering. And, to be totally honest, if I am going to chill out, I’d rather do it with my family. No offense to the team – they have all been great.

In fact, the camaraderie has been family-like. Teasing, but encouraging; joking, but seriously processing together. No one has been stand-offish, domineering, or inflexible. The conditions have been challenging, but our interactions have been great. I can honestly say I wasn’t so sure as we had our first meeting – it is a very disparate group, but our dynamic has been a real blessing to me and I think to our fellow laborers as well, both in the clinic and on the job site.

Anyway, I thought you’d want to know that your prayers are working. Keep them up, as we’ll be putting in our last full day tomorrow and it could be a challenge after a day off. Though, to be honest, most of us were chomping at the bit to get back to work by mid-afternoon today.

We love you all, our families and church family, and we will see you soon!

Rob

Hello friends back home. Mike N

This has been a very hard week. The heat is so oppressive here and trying to do any construction work is a challenge to say the least. While it’s tough for me, there’s no escape for most of the people we’re helping as they’re living under tarps or run down tents with no running water, no food, no toilets, no anything… many are sick and malnourished. They seem to more used to the heat than we are but it’s still a constant factor making existence all the more difficult.
We’re been working hard at the construction site and in the clinic but after the first day, I haven’t been able to join the others at the site as Gail has had me working on a number of projects at the PID facility itself. Since the dorm is newly constructed, it still needed shelves to be hung in the various bedrooms, some repairs in the clinic and a new fence and a new overhang for the outside dining/meeting area.
Today in particular was very difficult in a different way… we went early in the morning to a “tent city” down the road that was set up on a pig farm. The difference is that these people, families, were displaced from Port-au-Prince after the earthquake hit and so were not used to living with nothing in the surrounding country. We went to give medicine to a father who’s wife and daughter were killed in the quake and is now taking care of 7 or 8 children on his own including a 7 year old son who has seizures constantly unless he’s on meds. Three of the other children had other medical issues like Ring Worm, leg infection, etc… After seeing this father doing his best to take care of his family, we went for an hour’s ride to go to church and then see a different side of Haiti at a beach “resort” of sorts. After seeing this father in the morning and then seeing people an hour away playing in the sun and ocean without a care except that their coconut shell cocktail was empty, was surreal and infuriating. I don’t know what to make of it still…
Tomorrow I need to finish up the various projects on my list and then we’ll start to think about coming back home. I hope all are well.
Bye for now,

Hi senders, - Sandy

This is Sandy sending greetings from me and all the grateful Haitians we have been working. It certainly has been an incredible experience for developing a servant’s heart. Learning to work under these conditions is really incredible, the heat being the worst to deal with, and second is the lack of infection control. Gail and the doctors are really dedicated and I am having an awesome experience working with them. I spent three days in the pharmacy which nurses in the states are not allowed to do. I am really considering coming back when it is a little cooler, the need is really great. Thank you all for allowing us to come and the medical supplies were needed. Sometimes they see 200 hundred people a day. Looking forward to sharing our experiences with you all. This is a special team.
Sandy

The human side of the worksite - Dan Carlin

THIS IS FROM FRIDAY

It was a great day for another great life experience here in Haiti at the construction site of the house we are rebuilding. Family life in Haiti continues all round us on the construction site with children sitting with us and socializing, clothes being washed for the PID Group and dinner being prepared on a small stove (makeshift) right next to where we are throwing rocks (chain gang style to one another in a line) along with passing buckets of concrete being prepared by hand in front of the house. We have met a lot of characters working with us that are great to work with building the house. Scott Seiler has assumed the responsibility of tutoring all of us on the fine art of throwing buckets of concrete to each other. We actually now have it down to a science. We all have our war wounds now with nicked shins from errant tosses of buckets as well as empty buckets hitting my head at the same time. Life is going well with the youngest of the group, Trevor Pituck out working us all. In my case, I blame on youth being on his side, but his work ethic is impressive never the less.

Our day ended with our PID coordinator, Maxim Genault, inviting us to meet his family (brothers and sisters and parents. Maxim is one of the most mature 20 years old I have ever encountered. To see 10 people (2 adults and 8 children) as one happy family unit in a (2) two room house is pretty remarkable. His Mom was not feeling well and sleeping on the small front porch, still no complaining, she got up at Maxim’s prodding for a family picture of all who were present during our short visit (see Picture of Maxim’s family). Overall, to see the love that Maxim has for his family was just a great encounter for all of us present.

The one thing we have all learned to yell out and laugh at with all the workers at the site is fatique or as they say it in Creole “fatigay”. Nice to see that we all have a similar word for tired. Heat and humidity are not our friends. We just enjoy the fresh breeze that comes along during our respite under the few palm trees where we sit for our breaks. God is with us here in Haiti.

A Mother-Daughter/Host - Guest blogging. the first? From Cherith Smith

Every day in Haiti has brought so many new experiences. Today I was able to go to collect supplies at ‘Big Pauls’. ‘Big Paul’ was a 34 year old man who was a photographer prior to setting up a base house in Haiti. He heard about the earthquake and felt compelled to help the people of Haiti. He couldn’t get a ticket into the country so he took a flight into the Dominican Republic and then took a bus over to Haiti. He rented out a huge house that a family lived in prior to the earthquake. The family is currently living in front of the house in a tent because they’re afraid the house will collapse on them in another quake. Big Paul visits warehouses and transports pallet donations of medical supplies, food, clothing…. Back to his house. He then contacts organizations (like PID, Partners in Health….) and passes all of the supplies on to them. We were able to obtain a Tap-tap load and truck load of free medical supplies. It took about an hour for the team to unload the Tap-tap and put the medical supplies away.

After we finished unloading the medical supplies we took a Tap-tap to a Sugar Cane Museum. The guide could only speak in Creole. Our translator did a good job with the help of the rest of the team trying to determine what he was telling us. Michael convinced the driver to take us to get souvenirs. We drove to a beautiful souvenir site, we pulled over and all unloaded and discovered that ‘souvenir’ in creole also means cemetery. We took a great photo outside the cemetery and then made a quick departure before the beginning of a funeral. Needless to say there were no souvenirs purchased! LOL

A word from our host, Gale Hull

It is hard to believe that 5 days have past since we landed. The construction part of the team has gotten an A-plus from the construction supervisor. Sandy has been a trooper working in the pharmacy. Cherith and Paula took care of mini twin babies. Leigh has shadowed in the clinic and helped build a new eating area for the team. It has been a blessing to be able to travel with Cherith on her first trip to Haiti. It has been great to have devotions with the team. Impressive to see the two youngest members of the team, taking a turn to lead the devotions.

Today the team did their various jobs in the morning until about one. Then after lunch we all unloaded the medicine from the Tap-tap. The team left to go to sugar cane museum while I went with two doctors to the displaced village people. So we had very different afternoon experiences. Cherith will talk about the team’s experience in the afternoon.

Going to the village, I realized that how much the Lord needs us to be here and how much we need to bring his grace and mercy to this people who have gone through so much.