A reflection from a recent visitor to Haiti. Although she visited a mission different from ours, her words reflect what I have seen. This post is long, but you will find it interesting.
In the short time I’ve served on the Haiti committee, I have already learned many things about the country. And now I wonder how can it be that most of us have so little knowledge of our neighbor, this tiny place on the map, which is only 600 miles from Miami.
It would take much too long to go into the complex history of that country, but those of us who have begun to read more about Haiti are starting to understand why it is the most underdeveloped country in the Western Hemisphere. Slowly, more of us are becoming aware of how Haiti has been used and exploited by others throughout its history. Our trip there increased that awareness even more. It was a shocking and often uncomfortable, yet eye-opening, personal encounter with the most extreme poverty.
In her book: “On That Day Everybody Ate”, Margaret Trost describes what she saw in this way: “In Haiti, I’d come face-to-face with the world’s poorest citizens-and knew they were part of the one billion people on our planet who live in extreme poverty, those who don’t have access to the basic needs for survival.”
Our group’s encounter with the poor began in much the same way as Margaret Trost‘s.
I can best describe my thoughts about my own experience in this way. We were led on a journey into hell-on-earth by God so that we would be witnesses to the injustices and suffering of the people, and then asked to return to our own country to tell others about what we saw. And, I believe we must also tell others about the beauty and resilience of Haiti’s people, despite the poverty, hunger and politicalinstability they face daily;
to let people know that the people of Haiti want to work so they can once again properly feed themselves and their families; to have their share in education and health care.
And, that they ESPECIALLY WANT TO GIVE! They want so much to participate in the life of their country and the rest of the world.
Our flight from Miami took an hour and a half. As the plane descended into
Port-au-Prince, I watched the sparkly blue Caribbean turn to a murky brown just off the coast. We could see that the mountains were stripped of trees. Because most of Haiti’s
trees have been cut down, there is no root system to soak up water, and when it rains, the precious topsoil washes into the ocean. This is one of the reasons why Haitian peasants struggle to feed their families. Their soil is gone.
The (Toussaint Louverture International Airport) was crowded and our group of five struggled to stay together as many people converged and tried to squeeze through the doors of the terminal all at the same time. We made our way through the customs lines, then found our baggage, all the while feeling the push of impatient people pressing in all around us. There was not a lot of personal space available - anywhere.
As we walked out onto the street, we were approached by men of all ages, pleading to carry our bags. Men, desperate for work, kept trying to take our bags, but we moved forward as Fr. Alan led our group to the end of the walkway where we were met by Patrick from Matthew 25 House. Patrick had already chosen several men to carry our luggage and they were paid after all was loaded into the van. I realized that there would only be a few out of all those men who would leave their posts at the airport and go away with money at the end of the day.
Patrick greeted us as we left the airport and pulled into traffic. We sat in silence as we rode along and looked out of the windows. The air was filled with the smell of burning garbage. It was warm, even for January. The roads were not good - no traffic lights or sidewalks. Our van moved along slowly as Patrick cautiously negotiated obstacles along the way. The city was teaming with people, walking in groups and often darting in front of oncoming traffic. A roundabout in the center of the road caused a great traffic jam as all seemed to converge and slowly jockey for a space to move. Brightly painted minibuses and pickup trucks, called “tap-taps,” inched along, packed with travelers. We drove past shacks and decaying buildings. I remember seeing a garbage pile and people rummaging through the layers. Hundreds of people lined the streets. Women and young girls in colorful dresses and head wraps carried water jugs on their heads, moving gracefully
around people and rubble in the streets. Vendors sat side by side selling sugarcane, charcoal, drinks, used clothing, shoes and other things. All of them waited patiently for customers to come along.
When we arrived at Matthew 25 Guest House, which is a hospitality house operated by the Parish Twinning Program of the Americas, we were warmly greeted by Sr. Mary Finnick, the Director and Vivian, Patrick’s wife. After being shown to our rooms, we gathered with other small groups of people who had also traveled from their parishes in the US to volunteer their time and talents to help the people there. We stood together to sing the Haitian blessing before meals and we all ate together in community.
Sr. Mary, Vivian and Patrick are doing great good for the people of Haiti by the work they do there. They hire and employ local people to work at the house and around the grounds. They have also opened a gift shop and display the beautiful art work, foods and crafts made by the people. All proceeds go back to the artists, giving them an opportunity to bring in an income and support families.
On Thursday morning, we were ready to make the trip to Fond-Pierre. Fr. Alan introduced us to our driver and interpreter, Thimotee. Once out of Port-Au-Prince, Thimotee drove us over the most treacherous roads I’ve ever seen with great care and agility. We held on for dear life as he maneuvered the van around gigantic potholes and deep gullies left by torrential rains. Even though the “way” was made a little easier for us because a paved road is being built, we still had 4 grueling hours of rough road to cover.
We passed through remote areas and small villages, and all along the way we would see hundreds of people, young and old alike, walking on the roads. Others, who were more fortunate, rode donkeys, horses, motorbikes or bicycles. Some were taking animals to market or buying items. Chickens, dogs, goats and pigs occasionally meandered out into the road right in the direct path of our oncoming vehicle. I was sure they would be struck, but Thimotee’ skillfully maneuvered the van, carefully slowing or weaving and no mishaps occurred nor was any livestock lost.
I remember seeing a very emaciated old man leaning on his elbow as he lay on the ground, beneath the door of a wooden hut. I wondered if he was resting or just too weak to move? He laid so still I couldn’t be sure he was alive. I began to be overwhelmed with a feeling of sadness. It was hard for me to look into the faces of the worn and weary travelers without being moved to tears. I found myself trying to focus on the countryside, searching for anything to avert my attention from the sea of faces that peered into us as we drove by. I tried to shut my eyes and go to a safe place in my mind. I tried to meditate, think of pleasant things, but nothing worked. I could not escape into some virtual reality, or turn the TV off. I was confronted with the cruel reality of extreme poverty, and felt overwhelmed with shock and disbelief.
I was relieved when we finally arrived in Fond-Pierre
Fr. Malherbe was there to welcome us as we climbed down from the dusty van. He greeted us warmly and showed us to our rooms and we could see that lunch had been prepared and placed on the table. Each meal we had there was beautifully and lovingly prepared by the lady who cooked for us. We were all amazed to learn that meals were prepared outside over an open fire, using charcoal. The food which consisted primarily of rice, beans, cooked vegetables and fruits like bananas, plantains, grapefruit and pineapple, were set out for us. Meat is a luxury, but, on several occasions, we were privileged to be offered a small measure of chicken and goat as well. I was thankful for all that was provided, but uncomfortable knowing so many there did not have food. My mind would replay images of the places and people I’d seen during the course of our visit.
We saw that the new church was still a work in progress, but were surprised at how much had been completed , despite the fact the work had been hampered by wind and rain during the hurricane season and problems with broken equipment.
On Friday, we visited the school there in Fond-Pierre. We were greeted by students, grades K-6th. We found that most of the children were bright, enthusiastic and very curious about us. A few, who were not too shy, stood up and asked our names and where did we come from. Each classroom was only sparsely equipped with several rows of long benches with boards affixed to the sides that served as desk tops. Children sat side by side, little bodies squeezed together across the length of the benches. We were amazed at how attentive they were and that no one seemed to act up or bother another, despite the lack of personal space. We were also very impressed with their eagerness to learn.
French is currently being taught in the school. And, Fr. Malherbe has begun to teach them English, as well. When we asked them what would help them in their quest for knowledge, many spoke up with requests for things like, text books, musical instruments, chalk, writing paper, pencils and crayons. There was a unanimous request for a food program as many children must walk many miles to school, often with little or no food to sustain them.
We traveled with Fr. Malherbe to the chapel in Pareidon for Mass on Saturday. Once again, Thimotee transported us over the horrible roads to get to the church which is some distance from Fond-Pierre. People dressed in their finest, were walking all along the way to get to Mass.
The little church was very pretty and well cared for by the people of that community. People greeted us with Bonjou’s and politely bowed or grasped our hands in welcome. We sat in front as Fr. Alan and Fr. Malherb concelebrated the Mass and distributed communion. The readings and music were all spoken in Haitian Creole. But, we knew the parts of the Mass and we automatically followed along praying the prayers in English silently.
I was inspired by their devotion to the sacrament of the Eucahrist and reverence for the Mass, but wondered how is it that the Haitian people have such deep faith in a loving God when there’s so little food and few jobs and no doctors or running water?
Referring back to Margaret Trost’s book, “On That Day Everybody Ate”, I found that she also asked these questions of Fr. Gerry, who was the Pastor of St. Clar
e’s in Port-Au-Prince. Fr. Gerry responded:
“God is the first and the last resource here. We feel God’s presence more and more, because there is nobody else some days who can sustain us to allow us to survive. It’s only God sometimes.” “….God makes miracles. So we live by miracles and as we live by miracles, we need faith. Our faith sustains us.”
Mass on Sunday in Fond-Pierre was held outdoors in the court yard. Fr. Malherbe calls the people from the surrounding countryside by way of church bells and recorded sacred music. Those who must walk many miles to church rise early so that they will arrive on time for the Mass. Each person dresses in their finest and we wondered how they could look so clean and neat after walking in the heat on the dusty roads! It is our fervent hope that very soon they will have their new church to worship in.
We also had the opportunity to meet the teachers in Fond-Pierre and Tierramuscady. We listened to them as they conveyed their concerns and ideas regarding the future of their schools. All of them have great hopes and dreams for the future of their children, families and their country. We could see that although progress is being made, they still have many needs. Both schools lack many of the basic tools needed for classrooms. But, they were encouraged by our presence there and so thankful for all that we do for them. I felt they gave us so much in return. They welcomed us and embraced us as if we were family and not strangers. They shared whatever they had. They took care of us and amazingly, in the midst of all their trials and tribulation, THEY were the ones who taught us how to laugh and relax; to be aware of and thankful for all the gifts God provides.
I’m beginning to understand that we don’t have to have all the answers and that change for the better takes time. We are only able to do so much. And, we must humbly trust that God will guide us and help us work together to find solutions to help the people of Haiti to grow and finally achieve true independence. If I had the opportunity to go back to help the people of Haiti, I would say yes again. Because, I realize now that they are not just our neighbors, they are family -- and they wait for us to return.
It would take much too long to go into the complex history of that country, but those of us who have begun to read more about Haiti are starting to understand why it is the most underdeveloped country in the Western Hemisphere. Slowly, more of us are becoming aware of how Haiti has been used and exploited by others throughout its history. Our trip there increased that awareness even more. It was a shocking and often uncomfortable, yet eye-opening, personal encounter with the most extreme poverty.
In her book: “On That Day Everybody Ate”, Margaret Trost describes what she saw in this way: “In Haiti, I’d come face-to-face with the world’s poorest citizens-and knew they were part of the one billion people on our planet who live in extreme poverty, those who don’t have access to the basic needs for survival.”
Our group’s encounter with the poor began in much the same way as Margaret Trost‘s.
I can best describe my thoughts about my own experience in this way. We were led on a journey into hell-on-earth by God so that we would be witnesses to the injustices and suffering of the people, and then asked to return to our own country to tell others about what we saw. And, I believe we must also tell others about the beauty and resilience of Haiti’s people, despite the poverty, hunger and politicalinstability they face daily;
to let people know that the people of Haiti want to work so they can once again properly feed themselves and their families; to have their share in education and health care.
And, that they ESPECIALLY WANT TO GIVE! They want so much to participate in the life of their country and the rest of the world.
Our flight from Miami took an hour and a half. As the plane descended into
Port-au-Prince, I watched the sparkly blue Caribbean turn to a murky brown just off the coast. We could see that the mountains were stripped of trees. Because most of Haiti’strees have been cut down, there is no root system to soak up water, and when it rains, the precious topsoil washes into the ocean. This is one of the reasons why Haitian peasants struggle to feed their families. Their soil is gone.
The (Toussaint Louverture International Airport) was crowded and our group of five struggled to stay together as many people converged and tried to squeeze through the doors of the terminal all at the same time. We made our way through the customs lines, then found our baggage, all the while feeling the push of impatient people pressing in all around us. There was not a lot of personal space available - anywhere.
As we walked out onto the street, we were approached by men of all ages, pleading to carry our bags. Men, desperate for work, kept trying to take our bags, but we moved forward as Fr. Alan led our group to the end of the walkway where we were met by Patrick from Matthew 25 House. Patrick had already chosen several men to carry our luggage and they were paid after all was loaded into the van. I realized that there would only be a few out of all those men who would leave their posts at the airport and go away with money at the end of the day.
Patrick greeted us as we left the airport and pulled into traffic. We sat in silence as we rode along and looked out of the windows. The air was filled with the smell of burning garbage. It was warm, even for January. The roads were not good - no traffic lights or sidewalks. Our van moved along slowly as Patrick cautiously negotiated obstacles along the way. The city was teaming with people, walking in groups and often darting in front of oncoming traffic. A roundabout in the center of the road caused a great traffic jam as all seemed to converge and slowly jockey for a space to move. Brightly painted minibuses and pickup trucks, called “tap-taps,” inched along, packed with travelers. We drove past shacks and decaying buildings. I remember seeing a garbage pile and people rummaging through the layers. Hundreds of people lined the streets. Women and young girls in colorful dresses and head wraps carried water jugs on their heads, moving gracefully
around people and rubble in the streets. Vendors sat side by side selling sugarcane, charcoal, drinks, used clothing, shoes and other things. All of them waited patiently for customers to come along.When we arrived at Matthew 25 Guest House, which is a hospitality house operated by the Parish Twinning Program of the Americas, we were warmly greeted by Sr. Mary Finnick, the Director and Vivian, Patrick’s wife. After being shown to our rooms, we gathered with other small groups of people who had also traveled from their parishes in the US to volunteer their time and talents to help the people there. We stood together to sing the Haitian blessing before meals and we all ate together in community.
Sr. Mary, Vivian and Patrick are doing great good for the people of Haiti by the work they do there. They hire and employ local people to work at the house and around the grounds. They have also opened a gift shop and display the beautiful art work, foods and crafts made by the people. All proceeds go back to the artists, giving them an opportunity to bring in an income and support families.
On Thursday morning, we were ready to make the trip to Fond-Pierre. Fr. Alan introduced us to our driver and interpreter, Thimotee. Once out of Port-Au-Prince, Thimotee drove us over the most treacherous roads I’ve ever seen with great care and agility. We held on for dear life as he maneuvered the van around gigantic potholes and deep gullies left by torrential rains. Even though the “way” was made a little easier for us because a paved road is being built, we still had 4 grueling hours of rough road to cover.
We passed through remote areas and small villages, and all along the way we would see hundreds of people, young and old alike, walking on the roads. Others, who were more fortunate, rode donkeys, horses, motorbikes or bicycles. Some were taking animals to market or buying items. Chickens, dogs, goats and pigs occasionally meandered out into the road right in the direct path of our oncoming vehicle. I was sure they would be struck, but Thimotee’ skillfully maneuvered the van, carefully slowing or weaving and no mishaps occurred nor was any livestock lost.
I remember seeing a very emaciated old man leaning on his elbow as he lay on the ground, beneath the door of a wooden hut. I wondered if he was resting or just too weak to move? He laid so still I couldn’t be sure he was alive. I began to be overwhelmed with a feeling of sadness. It was hard for me to look into the faces of the worn and weary travelers without being moved to tears. I found myself trying to focus on the countryside, searching for anything to avert my attention from the sea of faces that peered into us as we drove by. I tried to shut my eyes and go to a safe place in my mind. I tried to meditate, think of pleasant things, but nothing worked. I could not escape into some virtual reality, or turn the TV off. I was confronted with the cruel reality of extreme poverty, and felt overwhelmed with shock and disbelief.
I was relieved when we finally arrived in Fond-Pierre
Fr. Malherbe was there to welcome us as we climbed down from the dusty van. He greeted us warmly and showed us to our rooms and we could see that lunch had been prepared and placed on the table. Each meal we had there was beautifully and lovingly prepared by the lady who cooked for us. We were all amazed to learn that meals were prepared outside over an open fire, using charcoal. The food which consisted primarily of rice, beans, cooked vegetables and fruits like bananas, plantains, grapefruit and pineapple, were set out for us. Meat is a luxury, but, on several occasions, we were privileged to be offered a small measure of chicken and goat as well. I was thankful for all that was provided, but uncomfortable knowing so many there did not have food. My mind would replay images of the places and people I’d seen during the course of our visit.
We saw that the new church was still a work in progress, but were surprised at how much had been completed , despite the fact the work had been hampered by wind and rain during the hurricane season and problems with broken equipment.
On Friday, we visited the school there in Fond-Pierre. We were greeted by students, grades K-6th. We found that most of the children were bright, enthusiastic and very curious about us. A few, who were not too shy, stood up and asked our names and where did we come from. Each classroom was only sparsely equipped with several rows of long benches with boards affixed to the sides that served as desk tops. Children sat side by side, little bodies squeezed together across the length of the benches. We were amazed at how attentive they were and that no one seemed to act up or bother another, despite the lack of personal space. We were also very impressed with their eagerness to learn.
French is currently being taught in the school. And, Fr. Malherbe has begun to teach them English, as well. When we asked them what would help them in their quest for knowledge, many spoke up with requests for things like, text books, musical instruments, chalk, writing paper, pencils and crayons. There was a unanimous request for a food program as many children must walk many miles to school, often with little or no food to sustain them.
We traveled with Fr. Malherbe to the chapel in Pareidon for Mass on Saturday. Once again, Thimotee transported us over the horrible roads to get to the church which is some distance from Fond-Pierre. People dressed in their finest, were walking all along the way to get to Mass.
The little church was very pretty and well cared for by the people of that community. People greeted us with Bonjou’s and politely bowed or grasped our hands in welcome. We sat in front as Fr. Alan and Fr. Malherb concelebrated the Mass and distributed communion. The readings and music were all spoken in Haitian Creole. But, we knew the parts of the Mass and we automatically followed along praying the prayers in English silently.
I was inspired by their devotion to the sacrament of the Eucahrist and reverence for the Mass, but wondered how is it that the Haitian people have such deep faith in a loving God when there’s so little food and few jobs and no doctors or running water?
Referring back to Margaret Trost’s book, “On That Day Everybody Ate”, I found that she also asked these questions of Fr. Gerry, who was the Pastor of St. Clar
e’s in Port-Au-Prince. Fr. Gerry responded:“God is the first and the last resource here. We feel God’s presence more and more, because there is nobody else some days who can sustain us to allow us to survive. It’s only God sometimes.” “….God makes miracles. So we live by miracles and as we live by miracles, we need faith. Our faith sustains us.”
Mass on Sunday in Fond-Pierre was held outdoors in the court yard. Fr. Malherbe calls the people from the surrounding countryside by way of church bells and recorded sacred music. Those who must walk many miles to church rise early so that they will arrive on time for the Mass. Each person dresses in their finest and we wondered how they could look so clean and neat after walking in the heat on the dusty roads! It is our fervent hope that very soon they will have their new church to worship in.
We also had the opportunity to meet the teachers in Fond-Pierre and Tierramuscady. We listened to them as they conveyed their concerns and ideas regarding the future of their schools. All of them have great hopes and dreams for the future of their children, families and their country. We could see that although progress is being made, they still have many needs. Both schools lack many of the basic tools needed for classrooms. But, they were encouraged by our presence there and so thankful for all that we do for them. I felt they gave us so much in return. They welcomed us and embraced us as if we were family and not strangers. They shared whatever they had. They took care of us and amazingly, in the midst of all their trials and tribulation, THEY were the ones who taught us how to laugh and relax; to be aware of and thankful for all the gifts God provides.
I’m beginning to understand that we don’t have to have all the answers and that change for the better takes time. We are only able to do so much. And, we must humbly trust that God will guide us and help us work together to find solutions to help the people of Haiti to grow and finally achieve true independence. If I had the opportunity to go back to help the people of Haiti, I would say yes again. Because, I realize now that they are not just our neighbors, they are family -- and they wait for us to return.
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