Carrefour: The Second Week Begins

One moment I find myself wondering how it can be that we have already been in Haiti more than a week; the next moment it seems impossible that it has only been 8 days–we have done so much, seen so much–it’s as though we have pressed a month of ministry into a week.

A number of the team have already written reports, so I won’t try to cover everything; instead I will give some impressions of this remarkable trip.

As I write this the skies have opened up again, but the rain has a force, almost a violence to it. Nothing seems to happen in this country in moderation. Driving in Carrefour is a slow process as the traffic has to weave its way between great mounds of rubble; some streets are still completely blocked. Countless numbers of buildings lie in ruins, simply great slabs of concrete, and cement dust. Others are still standing, but tilted at strange angles as if waiting to fall over at any moment. The city is filled with tent cities where families are packed into impossibly tight spaces. Yesterday I saw a man curled up on a pile of rubble not 5 feet from the loud, busy traffic; he was sleeping with some rags wrapped around him. The main streets are filled with people on the move. Everyone is looking for a way to either make some money or find someting they can purchase.

On Wednesday and Thursday we began our first mobile medical clinics. We have a large team of nurses, a dentist, paramedics and a doctor. The first day is hard. Some key pieces were accidentally left behind at the hotel. By the time we retrieve them, we have lost 90 minutes of clinic time. Yet when I address the crowd, they are not frustrated, but thankful, shouting out ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Merci’. I joke with them, “Is this a medical clinic or a church meeting?” But as the hours go by, the heat begins to take a toll for some of them. In their desperation, many are afraid of missing out. (This is so common among the really poor all over the world.) After a hard day, we have only seen about 100 people. The team goes home tired but determined to see more the next day. On Thursday, everything changes. We provide medicine and vitamins to more people than ever before–750 people! We go home happy and thankful. We are staying at one of the only hotels left standing after the earthquake. It has some great meeting areas and a pool. After long, hot days amongst the dirt and rubble, the team always heads to the pool to visit and to de-compress. We are all very aware that the people of Carrefour have no such respite.

On Friday some of the team went to a school and spent time with the children. Others went to two tent cities. I have been among the very poor in many developing countries, but I have never seen such despair and terrible living conditions as at the first tent city. The tents are so close together that in most cases it is impossible to pass between them. There is no pattern, simply a chaotic labyrinth. They are simply hot vinyl, a few sticks or poles and dirt floors. Whenever it rains (like right now), rivers of mud and water flow through the tents. There was no sound of children laughing or people visiting–just hollow, vacant expressions. It is so easy to feel overwhelmed. From there we went to a second tent city, this one set up by the French. Here, the tents were a bit more spaced out (perhaps a foot or two between them) and they were set up in rows. But still the heat and the dirt floors. When we asked people how we could pray, besides various pains and sickness (which the Lord so often healed), we heard the cry of people who simply wanted their life back. We met with Greg, a young man who was a leader in this community. We asked how we could come alongside and help in some way. He showed us an area where the children played and asked if we could help level it for soccer and volleyball. He asked if we could dig some drainage ditches around the tents to keep the water out when it rains. Less than two hours later we were back with 10 shovels, 10 rakes, 10 pick-axes and a couple of wheelbarrows. As we unloaded the tools, the people gathered to ask if they could help. In no time men, women and children were working hard on the field in about 40 degree heat (that’s 105 F.) They worked hard and enthusiastically. Before long, we were helping them as they led the way. As we left for the day (we are working 3 more days there), I remembered what Mother Teresa famously said: “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” While we worked, they asked if we would come and do an outdoor worship meeting. We hadn’t even told them who we were, so we were suprised at the request. If the rain stops in time, we will go there tonight. Otherwise we will go tomorrow night.

On Sunday our team went to 8 different churches where they preached, told stories of their experiences so far in Haiti, and taught the churches how to pray for the sick. The churches ranged in size from over 1,000 to 30 people. It was a great opportunity for team members to preach, many for the first time.

Today the team is conducting a medical clinic where the earthquake destroyed Pastor Eddy’s house on January 12th. All of the rubble has been removed by hand over the past few months; the walls were broken up by sledge hammers and carried away. What remains is the floor. Christina has been working in the pharmacy only 15 feet from where she and Adam jumped out from the building onto a wall and then into a large tree. I found it quite unnerving as Adam showed me where he was when the earthquake hit and where he ran down the hall to Christina and then helped her escape. And now in the same spot, hundreds of people are receiving medical care. Another group is visiting a school where the building collapsed and the children now meet in two tents in the stifling heat. But when the team visited, they encounted no complaints.

And that is what perhaps has impacted me the most about our time in Carrefour. In 38 seconds, thousands of buildings were destroyed. Of the 300,000 Haitians killed, over 100,000 of them were here in Carrefour. Everywhere I see men and women with missing or destroyed limbs. Virtually everyone has lost loved ones. Yet in the midst of this, I continue to meet joyful and thankful people. How can this be? In the churches, in the prayer meetings, at the outdoor meetings there is the sound of rejoicing as people dance, sing and shout their thankfulness to the Lord.

More about this later.