Dzurick sits among the children of Haiti. While there, he visited an orphanage. Haitian children are considered lucky to find themselves in an orphanage, where food, schooling and clothing are guaranteed.

HAITI JOURNAL
Journey of lifetime leaves unforgettable impression
By Dan Dzurick
Published July 5, 2006

[Editor's note: West Life Sports Editor Zachary Dzurick’s father Dan recently visited with members of a church group. Here is the complete journal he kept while in Haiti. If you wish to contact Dan Dzurick, he can be reached through his son’s email, sports@westlifenews.com.]

The Beginning

A mission trip to Haiti, who would have thought. The seed was planted last year when a friend, Darleen, talked and shared her pictures and experiences at a weeknight Bible class about her trip to Haiti. When this year’s trip was announced, the idea was, why not at least listen to the presentation?  After prayerful consideration, I felt I could help with fund-raising while waiting for the Lord’s answer to go or not.  The mission was to be threefold. The team would help construct a parsonage home next to a church in a rural area, English would be taught as a second language (ESL) in the elementary school, and local women would be taught beading and jewelry-making skills. In order to earn funds for the orphanage and themselves, future mission teams would sell the items back in the United States, returning the proceeds to Haiti. After many prayers, the Lord gave me the peace to join 12 other men and women making the trip. Rather then making a trip just to say I went, the idea of helping to construct, to leave something solid behind, was appealing. Much thought went into whether it was better to just raise funds for the Haitians to do the work, rather then "waste" extra money in sending people to do it. The answer later.   

Estimated cost to each person was around $1,100, plus shots, plus souvenir money. In addition, we were to raise almost $3,000 for building supplies and materials. Beginning in February, the fund-raising began. I attended a beading class. The object was to make jewelry to sell at various functions or to friends. Seventy-five percent of the price would go into your mission account, 25 percent for resupply. Sounded very fair. Lynn, our mission project coordinator, was the leader and jewelry-pricing person. I caught on fairly quickly. It brought back memories of my father teaching my brother and I his hobby of beading belts on a small loom. A "Hearts for Haiti" fund-raiser was planned for at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo. Mission team members Janet M. and Janice work for the zoo and were able to secure the Primate, Cat, and Aquatics Building and the food was donated by Aramark food service.

A personal letter to family and friends telling them about the trip was recommended, to request funding to help out. I was uncomfortable about that. Not that I didn’t think they would help. It was just the old Slovak characteristic of "do it yourself, do not ask for help" syndrome. I did, however, send a letter to my old union asking them if they could “pass the hat” one day. No response and that was OK. I visited my friends at my last place of employment, Lakewood Refuse and Recycling, and was allowed to place a flyer advertising the zoo fund-raising event in the lunchroom. Three friends, Jill, Danielle, and Marti, responded with monetary contributions for my trip and I will forever be thankful for their kindness. Other friends and family helped out by buying tickets for the event, donating money or ordering jewelry. I am grateful for their support.  My son Zach was my biggest source of funding and I am indebted to him for his generosity. Without his help, no one, including his mom and our granddaughters, would have received souvenirs.

The Cuyahoga County Board of Health is a good place to go for your foreign travel shots and medicine. Your destination location is discussed and recommended vaccines are provided at what I considered reasonable costs.  Plus, tips on what to do and not do, preventive measures to take to reduce risks of injury and illness.  I needed shots for hepatitis A and typhoid, Menaetra for meningitis, and pills for malaria. $262 well spent.  Thankfully my shots for hepatitis B and tetanus were still good from my working days in Sewers and Refuse for Lakewood.

The "Hearts for Haiti" event was exciting. Donated gifts from many area businesses and people provided fun for a silent auction. Luanne's husband, Bob, provided video from his trip to Haiti last year. Dinner at tables set up in the walkways of the Primate Building was different and thoroughly enjoyable. Hopefully, this fund-raiser will be a yearly affair to help defray costs of future mission trips. Thanks be to God that over $5,000 was raised. In addition, weekly we received contributions of construction funds, donated food, clothing, tools, medicine and toys for the orphanage. Over 1,400 pounds of gifts were packed and taken with us on the trip. On Saturday, April 22nd and Sunday, April 23^rd, several team members attended church services at Ascension Catholic Church and Gethsemane Lutheran Church to receive a commission and blessings for the mission trip. Royal Redeemer, Ascension Lutheran, and Valley Lutheran were the other churches represented by the 13 members. On Thursday, April 27th, the mission finally got under way.

Friday, April 28

Friday morning saw us leave Miami for Port-au-Prince, capital of Haiti. Interesting flight with lots of Haitians going back home. From the air the island looks beautiful. Blue ocean meeting the land, hills growing into mountains. A very crowded city of 3 million, you can see the shantytowns within the city area. First thing off the plane that hits you is the heat. Getting through customs did not seem difficult, just a long, time consuming process because of the heat, fatigue and not knowing the language. Here, Lynn did most of the paperwork for us with Gary, a taxi driver/facilitator hired for the occasion. Local Haitians quickly try to grab your bags to carry them for you, then they expect a tip. Gary controlled this by hiring porters to handle the luggage so it could be transported to the local airport that we would use to fly to Les Cayes (LA KYE) on the southern side of Haiti. Everyone lined up to pass through customs, maybe five lines. A uniformed lady motioned me to a far right line, away from the group. While waiting my turn, I noticed a sign that seemed to indicate this line was for parents with children, wheelchairs or the elderly. Before I could move up to the customs window, all the previously mentioned people cut in front of me. Patiently waiting my turn, as I did not wish to cause a stir, I couldn’t help but notice that my fellow team members were almost through the normal lines.  Finally I passed, got my passport stamped and caught up with my 12 fellow missionaries.

A short taxi van ride to the local airport got us ready for our last flight to Les Cayes. There, luggage had to be weighed, carry on bags counted, and a decision had to be made by the Tortugi Airline. One plane for 13 people with carry-on luggage and 26 bags to be checked. Or, one plane each, or one plane to make two trips. Here we learned about Haitian time —"ten minutes until we board the plane" became an hour. Stifling heat started to take its toll on us. Thank God we had been told to carry bottled water with us.    

Eventually we got on a plane you swore you saw in an old John Wayne air flick movie. But we all fit, with the luggage crammed in the rear of the plane. Again, from the air the country was awesome. We flew over mountains, valleys, and farmlands. You could tell a lot of the hills had been cleared of trees, for firewood and building lumber most likely.  Statistics say 80 percent of the nation is deforested. About an hour-and-a-half flight got us to the Les Cayes airport, apparently used a lot by United Nations peacekeepers. They had been there to monitor the Feb. 7 election of Rene Preval to a five-year term.

Preval, a former president, seems to be popular with the poorer people. During his first term, 1996-2001, he managed to build some roads and land reforms. In Haiti’s 202-year history, he is the only leader who served a full term, was not re-elected, but was able to peacefully turn over the government to his successor. He is credited with starting a new industry in Haiti, growing coffee called Haitian Bleu. It was interesting to learn that Haiti was the second nation in the Western Hemisphere to declare independence back in 1804. America was the first in 1776. Once it had been the crown jewel of French colonialism, but instability and corrupt governments made this tropical paradise become the poorest county in the region. Annual income is $400; life expectancy is to age 51, and only 25 percent of the 8 million population can read. Saddest is the fact that Haiti has the highest infant mortality rate in the Western Hemisphere, 12 percent. I can now understand why we learned while visiting "Charlie’s home", that parents celebrate when a child turns 2, a sign of survival.

Nora Nunemaker was our host. She helped found the Caribbean Children’s Foundation, which obtains sponsors for the operation of the Children of Israel Orphanage.  We stayed at the compound of the First Evangelical Lutheran Church of Haiti. Here is located an orphanage for about 15 girls, an elementary school of roughly 500 children, a guesthouse for missionaries, a pharmacy and dental clinic. The family of the late pastor, Pastor Israel Izidor, who started many churches in Haiti, also lives at the compound. His vision was to teach church members and orphans life skills in order to make a living.  His family now continues to carry on that mission. Plans are for a Christian-based community called Children of Israel Community, to be established about 30 miles away in St. Louis du Sud.

Friday afternoon we visited the boys’ orphanage, about two blocks away. The road is paved somewhat and well-traveled by bicycles, motorbikes, and pedestrians. Merchants line the sides of the road selling goods. Homes are located right along with them. In this part of the city of 37,000, maybe half the homes seemed to have electricity.

Poles with dozens of meters and electrical lines run haphazardly all over. It is not uncommon for people to steal electricity. Every line seems to have another line tapped off of it. The scene reminded me of the Tom Russell song "Stealing Electricity.” Along with the heat, you had to adjust to the smells of garbage and burning wood. There are no apparent city services here. Refuse is just tossed out and left. Skeleton vehicles, trash, odds and ends are all along the road. Walking to the boys’ orphanage, we passed several homes that looked half-built or were just foundations. There is no banking system for home loans. When you have saved enough, you purchase stones and cement for the foundation. Loads of rocks are just dumped nearby. When you run out of funds, the building stops. When you save up enough money again, you start building the walls and windows. When you have accumulated more money, the roof goes up. Just outside our compound, a load of stones was almost completely blocking the road. "In a few days it will be moved" we were told, apparently an everyday occurrence. People and vehicles just maneuvered over and around it. No problem, no rush, no ordinances.

Instead of at the grocery, on a recent trip to Haiti Dan Dzurick found exotic fruits such as coconuts, growing in the trees.

The boys’ orphanage, housing just nine children, was a dreary, cinder block compound. A rocky gravel courtyard was their playground. Some members brought balls to play with and that excited them to no end. The balls disappeared shortly. Days later, while the boys were inside, some of the ladies planted colored plastic Easter eggs around the compound. The children were told to find them and return them for gifts.  Toys seem to be nonexistent, except for donations from the states. The exception seems to be kites, homemade kites. Plastic from plastic bags, tied with string to tiny sticks and maybe a tail form the most common toy I saw.

At an evening round-robin discussion session, Carol B said how those eggs looked like flowers, adding color to the area and how happy the children were to play the game. Attention from visitors is exciting to them — just a hug or holding hands brings them such joy. At the orphanage, the children have their own beds, a bathroom and a kitchen. Cooking is over a wood fire, the meals prepared by the staff.

As primitive as it all was, children at the orphanages are considered the blessed ones.  Unlike the American idea of poor, parentless children at an orphanage, here people want their children taken in. Here the kids get fed every day. Clothes and schooling. Two different programs are in action. It takes 20 cents a day to fed the orphan children. Tuition at the school is $90 a month. Donations from outsiders, usually 3 people contribute $30 toward each student, make up the funding.  Parents give what they can. The only rule is that children must have shoes to come to school.

A walking tour of the surrounding area was an eye opener. What we would call squalid was normal. Besides cinderblock housing, shacks of wood, metal and whatever else made up the neighborhood. Whatever it takes to make a home, they use. Traveling a dusty path, we were invited to Charlie’s home.

Charlie is now in the states. He is a child who was burned by kerosene and was evacuated to America for help. He is at the Shriner’s Hospital in Dayton, Ohio. He is also going to be adopted by a family from New York State. His Mother, Julie, a laundry worker at the orphanage and his father, Mr. St. Cyr, and 10 siblings live in a three-room house with a walled outside area for cooking. Father was pleased that we came to visit. Two days later, we learned he had asked the orphanage to take two of his children, as he could no longer feed them. They will be considered when openings happen.

Despite the poverty, the people seem genuinely content with what they have and are friendly and happy to speak with you. Like all parents, they wish better for their children. Again, the children like to walk along, holding hands and hanging out with you. All attempt to ask you your name. If a camera appears, they enjoy seeing themselves in the digital viewfinder before the picture fades. Our walk took us to a hill overlooking a river. Women were washing clothes, children were playing in the shallow spots and it was a picturesque view of a rural village.  Until you noticed the ever-present trash and some of the littlest children seemingly unbothered by the fact that they wore no clothes. After our tour, all I could think was God forgive me if I ever complain about anything in my life again.

Dinner that Friday evening was spaghetti. A schedule of activities was made, times for the work site, revisiting the boys orphanage, ESL training, beading workshops and a visit to the island of Ile a Vache, (ILL A VOCK) along with Sunday and Wednesday evening services

Saturday, April 29

Roosters crowing at the break of day are the alarm clocks of choice in the neighborhood.  On Saturday we took a rough ride, 19 of us packed into the school’s panel van. Air circulated through the front side windows and a missing rear driver side window. We traveled an hour to the work site. Passing through town and onto the road to Ka Maurice (CAM MER REESE), we competed with motorcycles, bikes, pedestrians and “tap taps,” the local taxi entrepreneurs. We passed markets along the way. Outside of town, it became a scenic ride. Despite the shape of some of the housing, it looked like a typical, tropical, third-world countryside. In front of some of the houses, cactus-like shrubbery had that day’s laundry draped on it. Planted fields could be seen further out of town. The paved road traveled over a hill of white rock. In the distance you could see green and brown mountains.  Finally, we turned off the road onto a gravel rocky road and passed by some very poor looking homes.

Shortly we were riding along a road that was half on the beach. A beautiful bay surrounded on three sides by jungle that quickly went up into hills and the mountains. An island in the distance looked charming with the Caribbean Sea behind it. We stopped several hundred yards down the beach. What should have been a beautiful beach was instead littered with garbage. Old broken sandals, tattered clothing, shredded plastic bags, and refuse mingled with shells and sand. The locals used the bay for bathing, laundry, fishing and a dump.

A path led about 60 yards up a hill to the job site. An outdoor church pavilion with a cement floor had already been built. The pastor’s four-room home was also there without a roof. That was to be our job come Monday. Install rafters and a corrugated roof. Measurements were taken and ideas exchanged as how to proceed and what tools and supplies needed to be brought. The view from the outdoor church was marvelous. Through the trees you could see the bay and the ocean beyond. Banana, lime, coconut and mango trees surrounded the parish. Here and there on the hillsides you could see goats or cows teetered to the ground. A few trees had a basketball size green fruit growing out of one branch. Called a cribs (CARBUS), Haitians use the meat for headache relief and the shell to carry water.

We were told the church had purchased 40 acres for $5,000. It was decided to start a congregation between two villages of 11,000 people. From the hill you could only see a few houses. But word spread quickly about visitors. Dozens of children appeared from the jungle to see the "BLANS", what they called white people.

Back at the orphanage, after dinner of beef on rice, potato salad with carrots, Kool-Aid and tea, we held our round-robin of the day’s events. Everyone was emotional about what they had seen. The poverty of the children tugged at everyone. Nora explained that the philosophy of the orphanage was saving one child at a time. It was the only way the children could have a future to help themselves and their country. When an opening occurs, Nora must interview any family and take their history if there is one. Each child has a file. So when the child grows up, if adopted stateside, hopefully they will return to visit family and work to improve Haiti. Some congregations back home help sponsor each child for $10 a month.

Before bed, we went to the roof for stargazing. A clear night with very few lights made the Big Dipper look very large. Venus seemed like a light bulb itself. Since astronomy class was 40 years in the past, I could not recognize any constellations. But it was peaceful and heavenly to watch the stars twinkle. Just like that, a shooting star streaked across the sky. Luanne got excited, said it was her first — a good sign to end the day.

A major part of Dzurick’s trip to Haiti involved working with a church congregation to build a roof on their pastor’s house.

Sunday, April 30

Sunday breakfast was oatmeal, eggs and bananas. The bananas were shorter and plumper than back home. The yolk of the hard-boiled eggs tasted different. I attributed that to the fact that Haiti chickens are definitely free-range.      

The church service was interesting, listening to Pastor Paul Touloute and his assistant preach in French Creole. Four young ladies led the singing. The congregation’s singing reminded me of the Slovak services my mother would sometimes take me to as a child so she could worship in her first language. Very rousing and strong, you knew they were praising God and not shy about it. The congregation seemed to be about 70 children and 50 adults. Pastor Dan gave a sermon interpreted by Pastor Paul. Our group sang two songs prepared by Janice. Two young children, a brother and a sister were baptized. Later, we found out their father had been murdered in Port-au-Prince days before.  During the service, slowly and quietly some of the children would come and sit by each of us. Holding hands, just smiling by your side. It was heartwarming. Some found their way into the laps of the ladies. We may not have known the language, but when they spoke the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostle’s Creed, you could follow in English by the cadence. 

Sunday service is an important day in their lives. All the children were dressed in their finest clothes — some of the boys with ties, pants and white shirts; girls with ribbons in their hair, dresses and matching socks. All clean and looking like American children dressed for Easter Sundays in the ‘50s. The Haiti families save their best for the Lord’s day.  At the end of the service, shaking hands and saying Peace of the Lord, we were greeted by most of the adults. As Pastor Dan held a child, the boy shouted "Momma Nora, Momma Nora" while looking at Dan’s face. He was not scared being held, he was excited because he saw Nora’s face in the reflection of Dan’s sunglasses. We passed out dozens of tiny colored crosses on a string to the children. Very delightful to see so many happy faces.

Lunch was lunchmeat with tomatoes, lettuce and mayonaise. Pringle potato chips with Spanish sports questions printed on the chips enlivened the meal. Afterward we traveled to an open-air agricultural market fair. The fun began when our van got stuck crossing a small stream. Not in mud but the tires on one side buried themselves in gravel rocks. Police and U.N. jeeps just passed around us. But the friendly Haitians came with no prompting to help. Rocking, using two-by-four boards and sheer muscle, the van became unstuck. Happy faces all around, hand shakes for a job well done.

The market was in a large field with plots of flowers growing around. Vendors had tents and stalls set up on three sides of the perimeter. The fourth side had a stage with a band playing. First song I recognized was "House of the Rising Sun” sung in Creole. Food, drink, and souvenirs were for sale. Jewelry, masks, carvings, walking sticks and what looked like marmalades in jars also were offered. Craft shows must be world-wide. Ice was for sale and there was even a snow-cone vendor! A few members tried a fruit drink made by Yelline’s family. Yelline, daughter of the late Pastor Izidor, and her husband, Genet, are carrying on his vision of the Children of Israel Community. Bless Shelley’s heart, she purchased bottled Pepsi for dinner that night for us. Bottled in Port-au-Prince, product of Haiti, read the label. During the week we were in Les Cayes, Pastor Dave had arranged for a case of Prestige Haitian beer to be available. The comforts of home while far away.

A solar oven was located among the flowerbeds. Shaped like a large, eight-sided funnel, a plastic lens covered the aluminum-sided inside walls. Sunlight was warmed enough to bake a pizza while we were there. Discretion stopped us from tasting it. We were warned not to eat the local food or drink the water. Back at the orphanage, their well water was filtered before we were allowed to use it. Leaving the fair, the van took another route, just in case. Back at the orphanage, Sunday dinner was brown rice, legs of chicken and a shell salad, along with the Pepsi. A local soda was called Fruit Champagne, with a lemon-lime taste.   

The evening service had a lot more singing.  Pastor Dave, who on Saturday held a training session for 14 lay pastors, gave a sermon. One story he told was about a drunken man who came home late with a bloodied face. He decided to fool his wife by putting bandages on his face in the bathroom. The next morning his wife said, “You were drinking last night and got into a fight."

“How did you know?” he asked.

"Because the bathroom mirror had bandages all over it," she said.

 We chuckled at the story. It was amusing to see Pastor Paul break up at the punch line before he interpreted it to the congregation. However, the crowd did not laugh. Later we figured most likely they did not understand what a mirror was — or a bathroom. Chamber pots are their method of toiletry, as none of the homes I saw had bathroom facilities. Plumbing is almost nonexistent.    

Our evening briefing covered where we saw God today. Worship is worship no matter what the language. Singing praises, uplifting the Lord is universal. "Leve Jezu Pi Wo!" or Lift Jesus Higher! is a rousing song that made even me move during the worship service that day.  Inspirational singing from the children, putting their whole hearts into it, was joyous to see.  The baptism of Jim and his sister. Another good day came to a close. I am thankful that Pastor Dave was my roommate. He was able to fall asleep with the light on while I wrote in the journal that my son requested I keep.

Monday, May 1

Monday morning, after devotions and a breakfast of pancakes and bananas, we loaded the van with lumber, tools, water and lunch. Genet drove me, pastors Dave and Dan, Vicar Don, medical officer Shelley and Janice. Haitians accompanying us were Pastor Denni, whose parish house we were roofing, carpenter Eric, helpers Sanon Antoine, (SIGN NO), Atelus Elifet, (AT-TEASE), Pierre Low Cow and Peterson. Both Denni and Sanon also helped as translators. On the way, we stopped for gas for the chain saw. The van would not restart. Battery failure was suspected. Immediately, help was there. A Haitian with a Datsun truck took his battery out to see if it would fit. A tap-tap stopped and its driver brought over a battery. Everyone wanted to help. Meanwhile, a New Jersey medical team came in for gas. Apparently both our groups had meet a year ago in the area. Small world. Genet wanted us to unload the van onto the tap-tap and continue on our way while he headed back to Les Cayes for mechanical help. Turns out the alternator needed replacement. To save time, we convinced him to drop us off, unload the van while running and then return to the city.

Lugging the supplies up that hill took its toll. Some of the members could only make the trip once. Putting us to shame was a deaf man who looked after the area for the church. Barefooted, the elderly gentleman mad trip after trips bringing up the lumber. A small child helped also. I showed him shorter pieces of two-by-fours, more his size, to carry. When my back was turned, he dropped the smaller boards and proceeded to pick up the adult size ones. I stopped counting the hill climbs after six. Each trip earned a rest stop for water and air. A beautiful sunny day made for much suntan lotion and bug spray. In the 80’s the heat just sucked the energy out of you. A hat was essential. The ladies packed neckerchiefs that could be cooled for reuse.

The plans we made Saturday were derailed by Eric. He seemed to want to do all the work himself. After much downtime frustration arose. Finally it was decided to ask the interpreter what Eric wanted us to do for him. We were there to help, not take charge.

Then progress started. Eric seemed to use Haitian eyesight to measure. He laid out the first rafter and then penciled its outline on the concrete floor as a pattern. On the roof Don and I took over cutting off left over rebar with a hacksaw. Not to disrespect Eric, but when his rafter was hoisted up it did not match the angle of the cinderblock peak. No problem. He said masons would fill in the open space with block and cement. Since there obviously was no code to follow, we followed Eric’s way.

Genet returned around 4:30 p.m. in time to attend a meeting with the local residents. He and Pastor Denni were trying to get the cooperation of the people to widen the road to the church. It is now a one "lane" road over rocks and sand. They would like to purchase some land to widen it but some villagers prefer no change. Wanting to be good neighbors they say negotiations take time. On the trip back Pastor Denni explained why he wanted to name his church Immanuel, which means "God is with us" from Matthew 1:23. Because the surrounding area is heavily voodoo, he wants his congregation to know that God is indeed with them. Very moving to listen to him speak.

While we were at the job site, Carol A, Carole B, Darleen, Luanne, Janet K, Janet M, and Lynn taught English to the orphanage children and then to the youth group. They also began their jewelry making with local women of the congregation.

Later that evening at our round robin briefing Nora complimented us. It was correct to let Eric be the boss. We were there to serve. It is important that the Haitians have ownership of the project. It is to be their church and buildings.   It would do no good to have the attitude that Americans know best. Being a mission undertaking, it was important we should follow the theme of our morning devotions, "Serving our Lord Jesus Christ to bring help, healing, and hope to the people of Haiti". We reminded ourselves that service to God was found in service to others. Basically, the devotions covered the fruits of the spirit listed in Galatians 5:22-23. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control were lessons that came in handy. As the Bible says, "Against such things there is no law." 

Tuesday, May 2

Tuesday breakfast was scrambled eggs with slices of hot dogs and green peppers in it plus juice. The day was overcast. Pastor Dave stayed behind to assist the ladies with painting the corrugated steel roofing that was needed the next day. Approximately 40 sheets that were about 6-feet-by-30-inches. A red pre-corrosion paint is used to help retard rust. Quickly work at the site got started. Thank God we had to make only one trip up the hill that morning.  My body was stiff and my legs wanted to stop many times carrying a water cooler sized water jug up that slope. But work went fast. The rest of the rafters were made and we all were involved in lifting them into place. Crosspieces were nailed in for support. There was some concern when Eric had to use a machete to "fine tune" some of the top ridge edges. Once when I almost slipped while standing on a plank nailing down the cross pieces Pastor Denni commented, " You do not need to get hurt doing the Lord’s work." A nice way to say be careful.

While working we learned about Haitian funerals. Behind the parsonage was a broken down cement crypt. In a lot of yards that we passed through town you could see these vaults beside the homes. Sanon told us that families buried their dead in them. After 30 years, when the body was decayed and just the bones were left, if the land was needed then the crypt would be broken open and the bones buried somewhere nearby in the ground. When asked why not just bury the body in the ground like we do, he replied that only the poorest of the poor are interned that way. If the family has money they will host a party, much like a wake back in the U.S. The burial site is not hallowed ground and does not carry any sentiment after a length of time.

Today we took a break and ate lunch. Yesterday we passed on it because we felt uncomfortable to eat with all the locals around, knowing we did not have enough to share with everyone. Denni explained to the natives that the "visitors" were weak and needed to eat so they would have to go home for a while. The crowd did leave the area except for one child who took a seat on the hill overlooking the room of the parsonage we were eating lunch in. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, tuna salad and Kool-Aid. Snacks were passed and shared. Leftovers were then passed to the locals when they returned. That was an interesting aspect of the location we were at.  You could not see many houses among the hills and jungle but people, especially the children, would just appear from the jungle or wander up from down below. From the top of the hill a man went by with his two cows, down the path to the water I suppose.

During a lull in the work, medical officer Shelley and I took a walk on the beach for shells. She showed me a rock that turned different colors from one end to the other. While we walked we said BON JOUR, (hello), to locals who also were walking the beach. One elderly lady carrying firewood tried to converse with us. Even through we tried to show her we were limited in the language, she kept up the conversation. Finally she gave up and we returned looking for shells.  After a few minutes we turned around because the beach here seemed empty of good shells. Not one minute passed when we found $15 American dollars in a plastic cigarette pack. We looked at each other and decided that the lady was the only one close to us that could have dropped it. She was already about a half mile down the beach. We discussed if we should return it to her or give it to the orphanage.  Simple conclusion was that it was hers. We had to do what was right and try to return it. $15 dollars amounts to $105 in Haitian gourdes. Most likely she had sold goods at market and was returning home. We started walking faster to catch up with her. Shelley told me if I could go faster then go ahead so we wouldn’t lose her. I started to jog. She veered off the beach onto a path. I saw her enter a yard that must have been home. I approached her and tried to sign language if she remembered her and I on the beach walking and talking. She looked puzzled but when I showed her the money in the wrapper she reached for her right shoulder and felt inside. I recognized the gesture. As a child shopping with my mother, I knew women carried money inside their blouses, in their brassieres. There was no doubt the money was hers. She kept saying OUI!, OUI!, OUI!, (we) French for yes!. I returned the money and hoped she understood me trying to sign her to be more careful. With both of us saying MERCI, (thank you), I returned to the beach to meet Shelley.

Meanwhile, two local youths asked Shelley if the man running away from her was with her. She said yes. She then started thinking that this is exactly what Lynn had told us NOT to do, go off on our own with no one knowing where we were. But we never felt in danger and were glad to have done a good deed. Later in the afternoon a native donated several coconuts to the crew. He sliced off a small piece of the shell and made a hole with his machete. After we drank the watery milk, he cut the coconut in two. With the original first piece he sliced off used as a spoon, we ate the very white meat inside. Tasted like soft cantaloupe without the sweetness.

At the end of the workday I carried our water jug down the hill to the van on the beach. While waiting for the rest of the crew I started to skip stones on the water. Instantly a youth joined me and his skips were much better. I gave him the thumbs up sign. He smiled and returned the sign. Happily we "competed" and gave each other the thumbs up sign on good skips. During the one-hour ride home, everyone was tired but happy we completed the rafters and were ready to install the roofing sheets on Wednesday. We arrived about six pm and a cold shower felt refreshing. Dinner was fish wrapped with onion, spicy potatoes, rice and salad.

Tuesday’s discussion centered on the highs and lows of the day. No one really had a bad low. Carol A danced in church with a 101-year-old man, Papa Lape. I meet him at the Wednesday evening service and even though he looked very old, he had a twinkle in his eye for the ladies. Janet M, Janet K, Lynn and Darleen were pleased how the ladies were taking to beading and the children to English. Luanne was pleased how they took to playing Bingo! The ladies had made up bingo cards with colored pictures of clothes, kids, animals and the like. The Haitians learned quickly a game they had never played. Lots of hugging to show appreciation and camaraderie.  Another good day came to a close.

Wednesday, May 3
 

Wednesday, the last workday at Ka Maurice. We loaded more two-by-fours and maybe 20 sheets of roofing. The work went well while the day was overcast. Eric, Denni and Atelus worked on the west side of the roof and Pastors Dan, Don and I the east. We finished nailing the cross boards up that the corrugated roof sheets were to be attached to.  Peterson handed up the TOLLS, (metal sheets) and we CLUEed (nailed). Work progressed with teamwork. Luanne, Shelley, Janet K, Janet M, Janice, Darleen and Carole B came along to play and teach the children. Rose, an agri-forestry student and Sanon’s girlfriend, helped as an interpreter. The ladies used flash cards with pictures and the English word on them. Rose wrote the Creole word on the card for our benefit. The children also colored pictures with crayons. At the end they turned them back in. Carole B and Janet K thought they were asking if the pictures were good. Instead they were returning the materials. I am sure some of those pictures are on refrigerators today.

They showed them how to blow bubbles and play Frisbee. Some of the children had some experience with English. Since some of them wore uniforms they must have learned at school. Not all children go to school. Most schools here are privately funded by churches. Each school here seemed to have different colored uniforms. But the style changed somewhat with each grade.

Luanne helped an elderly lady plant some type of seeds. The lady used a pickaxe and a machete to dig her rows. Luanne followed and covered the seeds.  That was what this mission was all about. Helping wherever we saw a need.

At break time Genet took several of us on a hill climb to see the view from the top. Along the way he showed us a ravine maybe 70 feet deep. At the end of it, out of sight, was a waterfall where the locals got their water he said. Even through the sky was cloudy we took some beautiful pictures of the bay and mountains. Crops of corn and sugarcane were planted hillside. We passed some farmers taking a break beneath some palm trees. We asked if we could take their picture and they said yes if we would sent them a picture back. Genet said he could download our pictures at the orphanage after we put them on a Web site Shelley created on Yahoo.com./group/heartsforhaiti.com. Our climb took a turn and on the other side of the mountain you could see more planted fields below. On the beach you could see uniformed children returning from school. One of the ladies later told us that she saw a boy on a donkey on the beach and asked him if she could take his picture. He climbed off the animal and proceeded to take his pants off. Oh no, she wondered, what had she said to him. But under his jeans he had on his school pants. He climbed back on the donkey for a well-dressed photo.  On the beach, Lynn helped a fisherman haul his netting in.

Finally the roof was finished and time to head back. As the van traveled home Genet made a sudden stop. Denni, Pierre, Peterson and Atelus ran across the road and went into a police station. Later we learned they had seen Pastor Paul there and went to see if he needed help. Turned out Pastor Paul was there to vouch for one of his members who was released because of false identification.

Dinner was rice, salad, lasagna and chicken legs. The food was always tasty. That evening’s meeting centered on tomorrow’s trip to Ile a Vache, Cow Island. Nora covered the do’s and don’ts of the trip. At the Wednesday evening service individuals came forward and gave what sounded like testimonies or prayer requests. Again the singing was inspiring. Vicar Don gave a short message and Pastor Paul translated.

Thursday, May 4

Thursday was known as vacation day. Scrambled eggs with hot dog slices started the day. The children filled the back of the van with chairs for us to sit on. Leon, Nora’s fiancé, drove us to the boating area. A small market place had commerce starting. While we waited for our boat we watched other boats transport goods off a ship out in the bay. Loaded, the boats seemed to be almost at the water’s level. After dropping off his cargo we watched one man bail out his boat as he motored back to the ship for another load. At the dock a pig, a small dog and a chicken roamed thru the rubbish in the area. All week we noticed how all the animals, whether they were cattle, dogs, horses, mules, or goats, all were scrawny and underfed.

A small tender boatman using a long pole chauffeured us in four groups to 2 motorboats.  The day was bright and the water was clear when we left the inlet. It was almost a two-hour trip to the village on the island. Mid-trip, we stopped at a sand bar for lunch. Beautiful blue-green water surrounded the white sand. No larger then a normal backyard, the sand bar was exquisite. Picked up an orange shell among others. I could not believe this sand bar rose out of the Caribbean Sea at this location. No other land was to be seen except the island, maybe three miles away.

When we arrived at the village, Pastor Bertrand Elisma greeted us with his two daughters. We toured his home, which was rather large, compared to homes back at Les Cayes. He had actual wooden furniture in his living room and dining room. Walking among the neighborhood I was pleased to see grass. Scattered all around were seashells bleached white by the sun. One young teen showed off his skill with a home-made toy. Using the lid of a five-gallon pail, he cut out the plastic lid leaving only the rim. With a long wire he rolled it around like a wheel as he ran. Images of American colonial days of kids pushing wagon wheel rims came to mind.

We attended a short service at Pastor Bertrand’s church.  The members sang and a young boy played a drum. Most of the children were dressed in their prettiest clothes for the visit. I noticed that the TOLLS had holes in them and were getting rusted. I told Genet we should have brought some of the left over roofing. He said no, the church had a roof and the needs were greater elsewhere. We visited a Baptist church and school. One good thing was the cooperation among the different Christian missions. No one tried to compete against one another for members. Every mission picked out a location away from each other to reach more people. It was good to hear that the Catholics, Methodists, Lutherans and Baptists saw the big picture when it came to spreading the gospel.

That evening we went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Some of us ate a Haitian dish called LAMBI. It is meat from a conch shell and tasted like mussels. Plantains are like a sweet potato cake.

Afterward, we gathered and reviewed our week’s work. It ended with a prayer session for each individual with the laying on of hands. Very emotional but a wonderful ending to our mission.

Friday, May 5

Friday morning we were up before dawn. We had to leave the orphanage at 5:20a.m. to make our return flight. We had traveled through six airports before arriving in Cleveland at midnight Friday. It was good to see family again. Exhausted but happy to be home.

In the beginning, I was a little hesitant about fitting in with three men of the cloth on this mission. But thru our conversations during work and down time we discovered we were all veterans. Dan and Don served in Vietnam around the same time that I did. Our observations on the smells, villages and poverty of the land were similar. Dave and Dan had been on previous mission trips. Don was on his second career. I enjoyed their company. Listening to them talk I was impressed with their vast knowledge and insights.

It was a privilege to serve with them and I hope likewise. Janet K and Carol A livened up the week with their infectious laughter. They could always find something to laugh about. Lynn was super as our leader. Without her the trip would not have gone as smoothly as it did.  It was fun to get to know Janice, Shelley and Carole B as new friends. Janet M was refreshing as she was honest about her fears of shots, flying, bugs, boats, in fact almost every facet of the trip had a fear she dealt with. But she passed them all with faith and resolve. Luanne and Darleen were friends who I got to know better and I learned from listening to them about their previous trip to Haiti. You could tell everyone enjoyed being with the children. All were committed to the mission of helping in any way they could. One evening Janet K made the comment she wasn’t sure how a large group of 13 was going to work out. She was sure there would be one crab or whiner in the group.  She was surprised that we all did get along and everyone was positive and came to accomplish our goals.

The End

And now the answer to the question from the first paragraph. Pastor Paul put it best when he said it was more important to the Haiti people to see fellow believers come and physically help on a project, to sacrifice time and comforts for others, to follow Matthew 25:40 " ...whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."  

A banner hangs in the First Evangelical Lutheran Church of Haiti at Les Cayes. It reads "NOU TOUT SE YOUN NAN JESU-CRIS.”  We are all the same in Jesus Christ. Thus ends my journal of Haiti. KE BONDYE BENI NOU! God Bless you.