Hard to Find the Words

11pm

We are here at the hotel. I'm warding off any mosquitoes that might be carrying malaria (hence, all mosquitoes), while writing from the satisfying accommodations in Saint Marc, Haiti. It's one of the nicest looking buildings around (which is not saying a whole lot) and I am feeling quite blessed.

Thankfully, we met up with the rest of our group and to His mercies, all their bags made it through – including the medical supplies which we will need for tomorrows clinic.

Grandma rides in the back

We left an airport through a crowd of people, a couple of which followed and insisted on putting our bags in the two awaiting trucks for us...then insisted on at least 20$. Crowding in one vehicle is obviously no issue when I took a look at my surroundings. The youth pastor, Galilee, had a bus waiting for the 17 of us. We gratefully crowded in, Sarah, Steph and I all sitting on the bags in the back and holding onto the seats behind us. The back doors of the bus didn't really close, so in case of a sudden swing-open session...we didn't want to end up on the road – which by the way, lacks any sort of regulation.

There are no road lines. It's every man for himself. It's like an open playing field. If you can squeeze between two trucks, go for it. If you can fit three more men hanging off your back hitch, then do it! If grandma isn't going to fit up front with the boys, let her ride off the side of the truck. Do whatever gets your through...and make sure you honk a lot when you want to pass. You don't want to hit any oncoming cars, motorcycles, mules, people...etc. Oh, and watch out for the homemade road bumps...they can be a real shocker.

We rented three vehicles and after piling in quite snug, we were off to Saint-Marcs which is about two hours away. The sights were like none I've ever seen. All those pictures you see in national geographic or in the magazine were back in front of our eyes, except we were looking from the window of our rental.

Normal sights in Haiti

We passed fields that were lined with rows and rows of makeshift tents. Scraps of metal and cardboard to make what they called home. Children washing and playing in the dirt. Countless young people roaming the roads near what they had made their home. A girl pushing an older man across a lawn of rocks and dirt – he had no legs.

Words don't do the situation justice and I have a hard time describing the level of poverty we find ourselves in. It's like Steph said – we are like fish in a fishbowl. It certainly felt that way as we drove through town after town and as we surveyed the situation, everyone watched the “white people” pass by. I felt protected by the situation – somehow here but disconnected, surrounded and safe.

I don't blame them if they watch and think to themselves, “there they go, off to do their good deed of the year.” It must certainly seem like that. There is so so little impact we can make on their lives. This is the way it is. I'm realizing the most you could ever bring them is Christ's love and what He gives. The impact given, will be from them to us. Our lives touched even more than theirs.

After checking in at the hotel, which now is certainly a resort after all we saw, we headed downstairs for our first meal.

Being who I am, I skipped the chicken and headed for the rice and homemade potato fries. It looked like a good bet and I was ready for a meal after being in the airport for two days.

That rice...

“Do you smell that?” Steph's nose was slightly crinkling. “It kind of smells like cow.”

“No, more like manure.” I said, digging into my first bite of rice.

Sure enough, it hit me right on the palate. The rice tasted quite identical to the smell of manure when you drive through a country field. You must understand that I am not a picky eater – I even tried it once more, to make sure I wasn't overly sensitive. Nope. It wasn't my imagination. I loaded up on the potato fries and added a little chicken to the meal.

Following supper, we took a trip to the YFC (Youth For Christ) base. To get there, we drove through these dirt back alleyways, with kids playing and youth on motorcycles. It was a building behind a locked concrete gate.

Not long after we arrived and hopped out, a little boy popped his head around, shyly grinning. A little attention, some photos taken, and it wasn't long before there were twenty kids running around in the YFC yard, doing handstands and climbing on our shoulders. Their smiles were enough to tug on any of our hearts as we twirled them in the air and made up games for them to play. Older people of the community (perhaps parents and grandparents) came to watch us with the kids in the yard. Some with smiles as big as the children's.

We'll be back at the base tomorrow to see 100 patients at the makeshift clinic we're setting up. One doctor, three student nurses and one studying medicine. I have no idea how this will go. So far God's plans have greatly differentiated from our own, but we can trust Him.

Destination Accomplished

Welcoming Band at the Haiti Airport

We are here! We've touched down and arrived in the hot humid country of Haiti, greeted at the airport doors by a local singing/banjo playing/drum beating and smiling band. We've past the wooden immigration desks where not a question was asked, but ouor papers were stamped. The Miami half of us are through. We were meant to make it, after all.

However, the adventure continues...

Back when we split ways in our team, Al Heron thought it was best that the Miami half take all the second checked bags. There seemed to be more chance that the bags would go directly to Haiti. We wouldn't have to take them off in Miami and re-check them.

Last night, we confirmed with three people from Delta, standing near the baggage claims. Our bags would be held in storage at the Miami airport overnight (while we stayed) and transferred directly to Air France in the morning. With worry and bags off our chest and mind, we hurried to bed.

Now, the conveyer belt is empty. There are no more bags coming through from our flight. The air is thick and the smell a little dense; the airport continues to bustle with noise and people (and I feel very much a minority), and all fifteen of our bags our missing.

After waiting for some time, Vic went to the front desk shot off to the side of the small concrete room and enquired about our luggage. We were told (it seems just like every other white person in the room) that our bags didn't get transferred to our Air France flight, and they would be here tomorrow.

Immigration Desk - Steph made it!

It doesn't stop. When God sends you on a journey and you begin to trust Him in the small things...He will quickly add to that. It's been one change after another. One detour after the next. Yet, we continue to gather and wait and pray and hang onto Him.

Elaine and Vic begin phoning Leslie, who is still back in the Miami airport waiting for a flight home. She told them that when she talked to Air France about re-directing her checked bag...it had already been sent to Haiti. In fact, Air France in Miami said that all fifteen bags had made the flight.

Somewhere, there is a major communication breakdown between the workers here in Port-au-Prince and back in Miami. Something's not being said.

Dorothy informs us that they often take away bags in Haiti and hold them here for a day, telling you they never came through, but rooting through them in a local warehouse.

Therefore, as we sit here on the concrete floors among the mass crowd in a tiny airport, we can only pray the materials we brought, wherever they are, will reach the souls of whatever hands they are put into.

I'm tempted to tell God that we can't begin our work without our supplies. We're already behind a day. We have a daycamp to run, construction to get started and a people to treat in the clinics. He tells me, we are His workmen. It's Him indwelling in us that is all we need to bring to these people. He will take care of the materials we put together, and He has promised to take care of us.

We can only wait, trust, pray that the other half of the team makes it safety, while we enjoy the off-set fan in a crowded room of over 200 travellers...and enjoy the ride :)

He never promised the new day would be the normal day

If my dying cellphone alarm hadn't gone off this morning at 6:45am, Steph and I wouldn't have woken up. Somehow, the room call at 6:30am didn't go through. I remember looking at the last bar on my phone last night, debating whether to turn it off our set it just in case. The just in case was what woke us.

Exhausted, and saying we could sleep until noon, we climbed out of our Miami Hotel beds and wearing the same clothes as the day before, we made our way down to the lobby to meet the others for 7am. Today was smooth sailing, we thought. Today was when we made it to Haiti. You think we didn't learn...

Upon getting into the elevator, we met up with Elaine and Susan. One of their party was missing.

“She's not coming,” Elaine told us. “She just couldn't handle it.”

After all the running around the previous day – the flight cancellations and delays, stories of life in Haiti, Leslie had booked a flight back home. We were one passenger down.

Dorothy Heron was waiting for us in the lobby and soon after, Caleb and Don Baurer arrived. That's strange. We were still missing Vic Heron and his nephew Jonathan Morasse. They have always been the timely people, and Vic had all the flight itinerary.

With puzzled looks, and still thinking about losing Leslie, Dorothy headed to the counter of the Airport Hotel and enquired about the two.

“There is no one here by that name.”

“What?!”

“We don't have anyone here by that name.” The lady repeated.

Steph and I had been right in front of the two men when we checked in the previous night. The hotel had had us all booked at the airport motel and the booking lady had even remarked at how many open room there was. We'd even seen them walk up to the counter and begin the process as we grabbed our room keys and sauntered in a sleepy delirium over to the elevators. It was 7am, and nothing was going as planned.

The cellphones came out and Don begin to try and call Vic. No answer. Again. No answer.

We decided to head over to the check in. We had one hour to do so before the checking closed at 8:20am. “You arrive there at 8:21am”, the airport lady told us, “and you won't be let in.”

We figured that Vic and Jonathan were so timely, that maybe if they had stayed at another hotel and were running late, they were already headed over to check in. But the very fact that they would stay somewhere else, didn't make sense. The second thing that didn't appear characteristic was that they didn't contact anyone, or leave a note of the new arrangements.

Realizing that our adventure wasn't anywhere near finished, that our plans were not God's plans, that when God said each day is anew day He didn't say each day would be a normal day, we rushed over around the Miami airport you to the check-in counter.

Don Baurer took out his passport, presenting it to the attendant at Air France. She typed in the name and waited, a confused look crossing her face.

“I'm sorry, sir. There is nobody reserved under that name.” She checked again and then motioned for him to move over to another desk in the room.

Dorothy figured she'd check her reservation and us four remaining ladies followed. Somehow we had made the flight, but Don and Caleb hadn't.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “The flight is packed. This wasn't happening. Five ladies weren't flying on their own to Haiti with two men pushed off the flight, two men missing and half the group over in New York. Steph and I took a quick prayer break – acknowledging God's control in everything and asking for glory to be brought to His name.

Don wasn't going to wait around and let the attendants keep him in Miami. The next minute he walked over with Caleb and presented the new tickets. Turned out the flight wasn't so “packed”. We would be able to fly together.

One glance at the time showed that there was 36 minutes for the missing Vic and Jonathan to arrive. After that, the gate would be closed and who knows when they would be able to get there...who knows where they were!

We sat down on the cold floor next to a pillar in the airport. Don went back to the airport hotel to call the desk workers from the previous night in order to find out where Vic and Jonathan were. Susan went back to retrieve her Montreal-NY ticket she had left in her room. It held her baggage claim stickers and she figured, although it was a minor set-back, she might as well solve that problem while the bigger problem was being battled.

Waiting, praying, and perhaps wondering what God was up to, but learning to trust Him, we waited.

At 15 minutes remaining, Steph spotted him.

“Jonathan!” He was walking towards us from a distance, clearly in a hurry. In pursuit was Vic, hair still sticking up atop of his head. They looked like they had just gotten up.

“There was no room call this morning!” explained Vic. “I woke up at 7:56 and we were down in 3 minutes!”

“What? You were in the hotel?”

“Yes...”

There wasn't much time to explain, as we rushed to security, emptying out our water bottles and hoping to have time to use our new 21$ food vouchers on the other side. Somehow the hotel communication system had broken down within the past seven hours. Room calls for alarms hadn't been made and nobody at the desk seemed aware of the guests staying on floor six. Good to know there was a Higher Power who was aware.

We cheered and laughed and shook our head. God just seems to get us every time with this plan of His. We might make it to Haiti today. Who knows.

He's in Control of the Perfect Plan

To know that God is in control...

Yesterday, I would have told you I would be in Haiti tonight. I would have envisioned that world – changing moment when you step out of the airport into the poorest country in the western hemisphere, see the small handmade homes and feel the dirt cloud under your feet as you walk and realize “wow, I do have a lot to be thankful for...”

"Band photo" with Sarah and Steph Heron while waiting at the JFK airport

Now, I am currently left in a NY airport with half the group I started with. One half has already left for their hotel in New York, hopefully flying out to Haiti tomorrow morning. In the meantime, our half is pending here for a flight to Miami. We probably won't catch too many waves post arrival time of 10:30pm, but we're hoping to catch that “airline promised” flight out tomorrow morning, to Port-au Prince Haiti.

All due to...a little rain yesterday. One plane that didn't arrive in Montreal. Eighteen travellers now set back from the original plan of a smooth day trip to Haiti.

After six hours in the hometown airport, our airport friends were able to split us in two groups on separate flights which, thankfully, arrive only two hours apart in Haiti the next day.

(Okay, forget any surfing. The latest news is we're not getting to Miami until 1am).

At one point, there was a 50% chance we wouldn't even be
able to go to Haiti. This was a slight stressor...

We've sent up the prayers. We've used the 8$ food vouchers. We've played our group games and taken our silly pictures. We've people watched. We've joked and smiled and sang and gotten tired and a little more frustrated – stopped talking and started sitting. Stopped being amused at the woman with the hair died as a skunk. We're no longer are ripping around on the baggage carts. We're just ready for whatever God has next – And that's the cool thing. We don't know what God has planned. We don't know what he orchestrated when He wrote our trip itinerary.

We may have answered a call to Haiti. We've packed our bags. We're ready to go. We've taken the step...and God's thrown us a little adventure twist. Neat thing is...we can trust Him because we know from His word that His plan is best. He's the author of this story - of this mission. We're just characters off the pages. We can hope we will get to Haiti. We can hope everything will go as imagined, but we don't know what God has in store. His plan is PERFECT and His imagination beats anything that we could ever think of.

In the meantime, we just keep looking to Him, trusting His plan and following His lead. It's all in His hands. We're going by God's travel itinerary and in His appointed time, we will arrive at the destination He has for us.

Love from Laguardia NY,

Maranatha