Unique Experiences

The plan was to return to the same clinic location as yesterday…but, this is a mission trip, and on all mission trips you must be flexible and willing to change plans at the last minute.  So, at the last minute, we went to a club 🙂

That’s right….a disco club made of tarps and wood, in the middle of a tent city!  I guess people still need their entertainment to keep a sense of normalcy and for a time of escapism.  However, we didn’t dance the day away;  the owner graciously let us transform his club into a clinic.  Under hanging Celine Dion cds, we treated dehydration, open wounds, and lot’s of children’s coughs.  The joy of clinic came in the form of a beautiful baby girl less than 24 hours old!  She had been born the night before right there in the tent city…take a minute and imagine that if you can… no nurses or medical professionals.  No medications or sterile equipment.  Just dirt floors and friends and family.  Her visit to the clinic was the first time any medical professional had even seen her baby.  Can you even fathom that being your only option?  I can’t.

After the clinic, we had an experience that left the cheeks on my face hurting from laughing and my other “cheeks” hurting as well.  “Tap-Taps” are Haiti’s version of public transportation, and are, by far, scarier, more thrilling, and more fun than any rollercoaster you’ll find at six flags.  ok, “fun” is subjective…but it’s definitely got its terrifying moments. The most effective way to describe the tap-tap is to just show you…(warning: those who suffer claustrophobia may experience feelings of suffocation and anxiety upon seeing these photos)

Our tap tap

Crammed in the tap-tap

Traveling over rubble roads, steep hills and weaving through thick, chaotic traffic threw our bodies into each other, like a sick game of bumper cars…without the bumper cars.  It’s really difficult to explain in words on a blog…let’s just say that it’s not something I would want to do very often.  But we laughed so much by belly ached….haven’t laughed like that in a long time.

The afternoon ministry had some of the most emotional moments of the trip so far.  The orphanage for disabled children is one of those experiences that make you sit back and question, “Why?”  with great sadness.  Yet, at the same time, there was such deep joy in the children that it is hard to mourn for them.  About half of the children had no visible disabilities.  They greeted us before we even exited the bus…jumping around, waving, showing their wide smiles.  As each one of us stepped off the bus, the children would run and cling…and I mean CLING…hard to our legs and arms, begging us to hold them.

The severely disabled kids sat in a back room, semicircled around a small tv set broadcasting a French soap opera.  The children’s eyes stared expressionless toward the walls and floors.  They were silent, except for the occasional scream or grunt.

Neglected.  Abandoned. Ridiculed – these children (ages 1 month to 17 years) have not had an easy life.  This orphanage is truly one-of-a-kind…a Christian woman found compassion in the “unlovable” and “worthless”.  She has devoted her life to finding Haitian children who have been tossed aside, and she brings them in and treats them as her own.  The workers, too, have literally given up everything to help the children.  There aren’t enough workers to rotate shifts, so the women live with the children 24/7 with one day off per week.  They love the Lord and their love is evident in the lives of the children, who smile and laugh and who are clean and well dressed.

After spending some time just holding their hands or rubbing their arms (which the kids LOVED – most of their expressionless faces would transform into the biggest smiles you’d ever seen and they’d screech with joy), we gathered around them, sang worship songs, and then prayed for them and the workers.  The sweet presence of God filled the room.  There was peace.  Tears began to run down the faces of the missionaries, realizing just how special these children are and how blessed this orphanage is by God.

We are forever changed.

Day 4: Prayer Requests

I’m sorry I did not get to post an update yesterday, it was close to 10:00 pm by the time I finished all the ministry preparation needed for today.  As much as I love to blog and keep you all informed of what’s happening, the mission comes first! 🙂   I will be posting the update as soon as possible.

Today we are doing our 3rd clinic, this time in Carefour, a region 1 1/2 – 2 hours away.  My requests for this clinic are the same as the previous days, except we have added a new part of our clinic experience…prayer walkd and tent-to-tent visitations!  The team of 4 who went out yesterday, came back with stories of families who welcomed them with sincere generosity and hospitality.  Many expressed gratitude as they explained that we were their first visitors since the earthquake.  In 7 months, not one person had taken the time to see how they were.  Their tents were simple and bare, but they kept them exceptionally clean and took pride in what they did have.  Contentment and gratitude the way God intends!  So, today, please pray for these prayer walks and family visitations.  That we’ll continue to have favor with the people and that they will be receptive to God’s Truth!

Also pray for our long journey.  Most of the roads in Haiti are horrendous.  The drivers are chaotic and dangerous.  At some points, in the mountain regions, they’re narrow with steep dropoffs.  Combine them all together & you have a recipe for a very scary bus ride!

Thanks for you all your prayers!

Day 3 Itinerary: Medical Needs all around

During our first clinic yesterday, our ministry was cut short due to a political rally that had begun within the tent city.  A large crowd of people had gathered, and more continued to join.  They weren’t yet close to our clinic, but we could hear them across the hills and could see the mass of bright tshirts wind through the paths.  So, to be on the safe side, we left before we were able to pass out all the medications.  Tuesday morning we’ll be returning  to the tent city for about 2 hours to finish the clinic.

Our afternoon will be spent at a truly special place…an orphanage for handicapped children, some severely disabled and bedridden.  The sad truth is that many disabled people in Haiti are abandoned and ignored.  But one orphanage takes these precious children in and tends to them as if they are the most important people in Haiti.  For the ones who are mobile, we’ll be playing games and having some music/dance time.  For the ones who are bedridden, we’ll just hold them and bring them love through holding their hands or helping tend to their needs.

Thank you for your prayers!

• Please pray for our return to the tent city, continue to pray for the requests I made known to you yesterday.
• Pray for the children at the disabled kids orphanage…that they can experience our Healer in their lives!
• Pray for the orphanage owner, caregivers, and workers.  For strength and perseverance.  Also that God would provide for their every need in order to effectively tend to the health and comfort of the children.

Oh, a praise report!  Welvins (the boy I mentioned yesterday…I spelled his name wrong), went to a hospital today to see what else might be done.  They admitted him and are going to run more tests!!

Day 2: The Tent City

The media doesn’t do it justice.

The pictures don’t fill your nostrils with a mixture of rotting refuse, stagnant sewage, and burning diesel.  Your skin doesn’t burn from the intense sun and your lungs don’t search for relief in the suffocating, breeze-less air.

As you hear the news reports of how progress is slowly progressing, you see hope.  But here, talking with those who are experiencing it, the truth comes out.  There’s not just “slow” progress – there’s NO progress in many areas. One of the translators working with us explained that the government has done very little.  They receive large donations, use only a little to do some small work, take pictures of the “great things they’re doing”, send those pictures to the media, then walk away and pocket the majority of the donations.  So, it’s no wonder that many Haitians feel lost, hopeless, and distrustful of a brighter, better Haiti.

But they DO trust the smaller organizations and non-profit groups  (like GCOM), because they directly receive assistance from these volunteers and see the progress and care that volunteers offer.  This trust and gratitude was exactly what we felt at the tent city today.

When we first stepped off the bus, everyone just stood around and took in the unbelievable scene.  White, blue, & tan tents surrounded us.  A malnourished dog ripped apart some kind of rotting flesh infested with flies and maggots as a small group of kids went walking by with pails of water that they’d just gotten from the shared water well directly across the street from the dump.  It was unfathomable to think that thousands of Haitians lived in this one tent city.  They’d lived in these conditions for months, and since there’s no real effort of help from the government, they will probably continue to live here for many more months, if not years.

We hiked up (yes…up) a dirt path nestled between rows of tents.  Hearing the commotion, children and some adults, pulled back their tent doors and watched the parade of Americans in blue shirts stumble up their rocky road. Most of them welcomed us with toothy smiles.

After a bit of planning and organization, we opened our day clinic and pharmacy under makeshift shacks of wood, corrugated metal, and tarps…and the Haitians came in droves.  Babies with bloated bellies and skinny legs.  Children with coughs.  Pregnant women ready to deliver but having never seen a doctor until today.  Men with chest pains.   The medical personnel talked with them, took their vitals, and then prescribed them a few ibuprofen or a week supply of vitamins.  Seems like so little…especially when these are things we buy in 3 months supplies for $3.oo.   But to them, it means relief.

As the medical team did their work, the rest of us stayed busy entertaining angels…precious children who found pleasure in a pinkie-nail size sticker.  Little boys who enjoyed an hour of taking pictures of their friends with my camera…even though they knew they’d never get to place those pictures in their own photo albums.  Sweet, beautiful girls who cried for mom, but found comfort on the shoulder of a complete stranger.  We played games, fed this peanut sandwiches and juice, and instructed them on good dental habits while passing out toothbrushes, toothpaste, and floss.  They were more excited about the toothbrushes than they were the candy and stickers we gave them.  They desired basic necessities more than luxuries..not begging for game systems or fancy clothes (although one boy kept asking me for shoes as he didn’t own any), but they begged mainly for water or something to eat or shampoo.

I could keep writing, but there’s really not enough time or words to share all our experiences…and we have many just from this one day.  But one thing we do share…we are all humbled.

GCOM volunteers

A sea of Tents

Children by the Dump

Kid time

The medical clinic

The tiny Pharmacy

Day 2 Itinerary

Today we’ll trek into a tent city and do a variety of ministry – mobile clinic, food distribution, and then simply interacting with the people who are waiting for aide.

I expect that we’ll see things beyond what we’ve seen in the media or even imagined.   Along with being  physically intense, It has the potential to be an emotionally and spiritually challenging day…malnourished children, infected sores, “untreatable” illness…

Welvis, a 10-12 year old Haitian boy, has become an already familiar face around the house.  But you won’t see him playing soccer for hours, like the other boys.  He’ll try… but after only a short time (think 7-10 minutes), he’s exhausted.  Welvis is sick.  A lump, the size of a child’s fist, sits on his jawbone and he’s plagued with fever.  Our clinical nurses and doctors have done a great job taking care of him, but he needs much more.  When they initially met Welvis, they took him to the hospital, but he was turned away, being informed that there was nothing they could do.  That answer was not acceptable, so they kept looking for help.  This week, Welvis had a biopsy on the lump, but the results so far have been inconclusive.  His mother, Iphanette, who once saw a hopeless situation, now sees the possibilities of health…all because GCOM volunteers and staff showed love, offered encouragement, and have not given up on a precious boy.

As we go into the tent city today, please pray!

• Pray for Welvis and all the other people who have medical need, but can’t find adequate help.
• Pray for the nurses in our team who have the responsibility of treating the Haitians we encounter today.  We know we can’t treat everyone, so pray for wisdom, guidance, and discernment.
• Pray for our health…we’ll be doing physically demanding work in the heat and pounding sunlight.  Also, there is no air circulation in the tent cities, which adds to the difficulties.
• Pray that we’ll heed the Spirit’s guidance.  For boldness to speak, and discernment when we just need to stay quiet and listen.  That we are not passive with fear, but act in the power and confidence that Jesus Christ offers to us…because it’s not really us working, it’s HIM working through us.
• Above all, that God is glorified today!

A LOOOONG Day

I didn’t sleep last night.  Neither did half of my team.  The excitement lingered into the wee hours until we all gathered at my house at 3:30 am, ready to hit the road and jump on a jet plane.

We encountered only a few small bumps in our journey…a missing passport found only after frantically searching the cars, suitcases, and  the yard by flashlight (it was in the yard), and a one hour flight delay because the airplane’s cabin had reached about 100 degrees overnight and they didn’t want us suffering in the heat.  Thankfully, we still made our connection in Miami and arrived in Haiti around 2:00pm.

Some of our first impressions of Haiti:

Stephen: “My very first thought, It’s Tropical. But it reminds me of South Dallas’ homeless area…the poverty, the people just standing around.”

Kerby: I had 2 first thoughts almost simultaneously.  When getting off the plane, there was a live band playing at the airport to greet us, and that was pretty groovy.  But also, it’s so poor, just as I had prepared myself to believe.”

Mike: It’s somewhat poorer than what I’ve been exposed to before.

For me, Lindsey, reality of the situation hit while still on the plane.  I and the Haitian lady sitting next to me began to chitchat, small talk really…why we’re here, have I been here before, where I’m from, who I’m with, etc.  Then, she began to share…most of her family’s homes crumbled in “The Event”.  Luckily, hers had been spared except for a few cracks.  Her daughter, only 14, saw her school crash to the ground and saw many of her friend’s lives destroyed.  Within the first few weeks after the earthquake, she was able to fly her daughter to New York to live with her aunt and continue her schooling.  Despite speaking very little English and having lived through something traumatic, her daughter is thriving in New York.  A few months later she was able to leave Haiti to reunite with her daughter and sister.  But several months had passed, and she could no longer avoid returning to her devastated home.

As I talked with Nina, she gave me a glimpse of some of the stories I may encounter in the next week.  But behind her gentleness and infectious smile, lied pain and unspoken heartbreak.

Yes, the poverty we’ve seen just on the 15 minute ride from the airport to our house is disheartening…but it’s not about the poverty…we’re not here to just clear the rubble or counter the hunger.  We’re here to ease some of the pain; to listen to their stories, then hug them, cry with them, and offer them encouragement and hope.   I have a feeling, though, that we’ll be the ones leaving feeling encouraged and challenged.

~Lindsey

Here are some pictures from today.  Click on the picture to get a small description:

Raquel and Connie give their first plane ride two thumbs up!

Lots of shouting, begging, and rushing around outside the airport

Children line the airport exit, begging for help in with their sweet “Dear Sister” pleas

Our house for the next 9 days

Sorting out loads and loads of donations

More donations…filled up a large room! Thank you all for your support!