Category Archives: Mission Trip Journals

Electricity

We depend on electricity.  It warms our food, cools our homes, and brings light into the darkness.  It can be used to start a car, or even restart a heart.  I use a form of electricity every day, even when I am “roughing it” I still have a cell phone, a camera, or a GPS.  Electricity is nearly as much a part of my life as breathing.  If I consider that even the clothes I wear likely required electricity to make, it is difficult to escape its influence, and its importance.

In some ways, you could say that my dependence on electricity is greater than my dependence on God.  In fact, my bible now requires electricity to read, since I use an app on my phone instead of a paper version.  I suspect that you are not much different than I am in that regard.  For many people, including me, we are more likely to use a light switch during the day than we are to read the bible.   Even our modern worship services depend on electricity for amplification and presentation.

In Haiti electricity is available, but it is difficult to predict.  Some homes do not have it, but others do.  The compound that we are staying in has electricity provided to it from several sources.  For most of the day electricity comes from a nearby cement plant that provides it to the orphanage in exchange for access to water from a spring.  For some reason this electricity is not available all day, and there will be times when the staff at Tytoo will need to turn on a large industrial generator to take over.  Once power is restored, the generator is turned back off.

It is easy to live life without even acknowledging our daily electrical use, but the ability to ignore our use of electricity goes away as soon as the power goes out.  When the power goes out in a dark place, we stumble around searching desperately for a source of light.  Candles are lit, flashlights pulled from drawers and then replaced in disgust as we realize the batteries are dead.  We open the blinds or use our phones to find our way.  We are restless because so much of what we do in a normal day involves electricity.

Haiti can be a dark place, and sometimes the electricity goes out.

Last week the power went out during our Haitian worship service.  The sound system turned off and the electronic keyboards crashed.  I suspect that in many North American churches this would be cause to cancel services for the rest of the day, and I acknowledge that the way we do things is greatly enhanced by electricity.  I can imagine the confusion in my own church as emergency lights would snap on to light the windowless sanctuary.

In Haiti, the dwelling place of uncertainty, 40 Haitian voices continued in praise.  Each word just as strong as the ones before it.  It startled me to hear so many people unaffected by an unexpected loss of electricity, and it made me wonder if sometimes we depend too much on outside power to make our North American church services seem impressive.  I will say that 40 raw and untrained Haitian voices would easily rival a 300 person North American church service in volume.

I hope to learn to depend less on outside power to make an impact through my life.  Not by senselessly throwing away tools that are valuable, but by developing other internal tools that can not be taken away.

Those living in the dark have seen a great light, they bring it with them, and it lives inside of their hearts.

Bipolar

Church just wrapped up on our fourth day in Haiti, and if you have never been to a Haitian church service, I can sum it up in one word.  Loud.  The music is loud, the people are loud, and the pastor is loud.   All around you, you will see Haitians wearing their Sunday best.  A few of the men are in full suits, others nice shirts and slacks.  Most of the women are in nice dresses, and a few are dressed up as if they were going to be attending the Oscars right after church.

The effect is somewhat mesmerizing, seeing someone in a full suit, standing at the front of a church that is only a roof supported by narrow concrete pillars.  Watching ladies in dresses sitting on handmade benches while they listen to the message.  Seeing the neighborhood children, some of whom may not eat today, wearing their best while they sit listlessly during the long sermon.

I see this dichotomy everywhere.  On one hand I am sitting right on the ocean with beautifully blue waves gently lapping the palm lined shore, while a quick glance across the surface of the water reveals enough trash to fill at least one industrial sized trash bag.  Yesterday we went to the beach with most of the kids in the orphanage, 48 people jammed into a truck too small to move even a modest North American household in one trip.  The kids ran into the waves with the fervor one would expect from orphans on a beach trip, and as the little Haitian boys jumped off of my back into the cool salt water, the moment was nearly perfect.  Until a used condom floated by.

Just another day in Paradise...

Just another day in Paradise…

If you visit Haiti, you may find it difficult to look past the imperfection of their sagging, leaky homes, and the trash that is everywhere, but I suspect you will also find it difficult to forget the cloud wrapped mountain tops, and the incredible sunsets.

Haiti is bipolar.

The emotional mountains and valleys are even more impressive than the physical ones you find in this country.  On Friday, we had returned from the nearby school where we were doing basic health exams, to our home away from home for the week, Tytoo Gardens.  The general mood was one of a lazy afternoon, the kind where you kick your feet up and watch the grass grow as you become one with your lawn chair.   I slowly brought out interview equipment, hoping to make the most of what we all expected to be a lazy afternoon.

After getting set up, I wandered downstairs in search of my first victim (interview subject) for the day.  I like to circle my prey (interview subjects) before I attack (ask them to talk to me), so I drifted around like a leaf on the wind, trying to get a good feel for who may be the most willing to talk to me.  When the gate rolled open and the truck rolled in, I carelessly filmed it, wondering what I might use the unplanned footage for.  I lost interest in the truck before I saw the passengers get out, and went back to circling my prey.

Densley has already made a new friend on the way to Simonette Wednesday evening.

Denzly has already made a new friend on the way to Simonette from the hospital in Port-Au-Prince Wednesday evening.

I settled in next to one of my potential victims and casually asked where the rest of the group was, making some remark to the effect of “is someone having a baby?”.  The answer was that one of the little boys we had met earlier in the week was not doing well, and the medical people had brought the boy to the clinic to see if they could help him out.  I slowly walked towards the clinic expecting some minor bump or scrape being put right and was broadsided by a child nearing full cardiac arrest.  In one moment my afternoon went from one of peace and tranquility, to one of uncertainty and frenzy.

It only took a few minutes of watching in the clinic to determine that we weren’t going to be able to help this kid on site, and as the medical staff rushed around trying to stabilize the boy, I ran out of the room to throw back together my gear bag which was scattered across the porch I use for our interviews.   I gave some of the other team members a quick update as I hurried to fill my water bottle.  As the water poured out of the cooler, I did my best to keep the tears from falling from my eyes and the fear out of my voice.  I had stayed in the clinic long enough to see more uncertainty in Kori’s eyes than I had ever seen there before on any of our other trips together.  I wasn’t really sure what to expect next.

Densley just two days later...

Denzly just two days later…

Fortunately the gear went back together quickly, and as I rushed back into the clinic I started trying to find a way to help without being in the way.  I ran back out again to ask Beth, Alitza, and Jenna, to put together water bottles and other necessary stuff for Kori, Jen, and Troy.  I ran into the clinic again and snapped photos as I waited for what seemed like the inevitable decision to get this kid to a hospital.  Without any portable oxygen, Kori wasn’t too thrilled with the possible outcomes for the kid. It seemed that the chances for the kid surviving transportation to the hospital were not great.  Cell phones buzzed across the room as the Tytoo staff sought the fastest path and the closest vehicle to get to the hospital in Port-Au-Prince.

The nearest ambulance was 30 minutes away, and they were still looking for the driver as Webert (pronounced Way Bear), the director of the school we had worked at in the morning pulled into the compound.  Kori, Jen, and Troy carried the kid out to the back of the truck as the staff tried to decide who needed to go with us to the hospital.  I quietly took the last spot in the back of the truck and asked if I could go.  After a few moments of indecision, they seemed to forget about me, so I stayed in the car as we sped off towards the hospital with Webert at the wheel.  Jen steadily pumped air into the kids lungs as Kori and Troy did their best to monitor the kids vital statistics.

The roads in the little village of Simonette where we serve are not great, but Webert managed the truck well, slowing down only when absolutely necessary.  Once we were out of Simonette the road turned from rough stone into fresh pavement, a brand new road that lead to Port-Au-Prince from a port that is being built in nearby Minotree.  I grew up in the country, and am no stranger to riding in the back of a truck, but I can say honestly that I have never gone that fast in the open as we did on that trip.  Quickly realizing my medical uselessness, I started watching the road so I could shout out direction and speed changes for the team as they worked on the boy.  Driving in Haiti is nothing like driving in the United States, and for a North American driver, what Webert did to get us their safely was akin to a miracle.

Holding on to life...

Holding on to life…

The roadside flashed by as we sped towards the hospital, each mile measured in breaths given by a bag being pumped by hand.  When the truck made the final turn onto the street with the hospital on it, the truck horn, previously strangely silent, became a constant drone as we pushed through the still crowded streets to the hospital door.  The doors opened ahead of us and we dropped the tailgate as Hillary, a Canadian Paramedic working with Tytoo came out of the hospital to bring Denzly into the emergency room.  I grabbed a corner of the mat, but was stopped outside the door, relieved of my duty for the moment.  For me, the time for adrenaline had passed, and I waited outside with Webert, Kayla, and Troy.

After the storm...

After the storm…

For some reason it didn’t surprise me that our little medical team kept working on Denzly.  It wasn’t until several hours later when they came out exhausted that I stopped to think about how odd it was that they were not able to just drop Denzly off and head back to Tytoo.  When we arrived, the emergency room staff were dealing with a pair of gunshot wounds, and Denzly was not getting the immediate attention his situation warranted.  Our team kept pumping air into his lungs while the other patients were taken care of.  They worked to stabilize Denzly as he seized for what they described as hours.  When we finally left nearly 2 hours after we had arrived, the outlook was still grim for the boy, but he was admitted into the pediatric section and our team could do nothing else to help.

Hillary, Kori, Allie, and Jen are finally getting ready to head home to Tytoo for the night.

Hillary, Kori, Allie, and Jen are finally getting ready to head home to Tytoo for the night.

As we drove back to Tytoo through the darkened streets of Port-Au-Prince, the mood of Haiti seemed to change again, from one of frenzy to one of relative calm.  The team members discussed the events of the day, reliving the moments that seemed like weeks ago now, just a few short hours later.  Allie sat quietly on the side of truck, I suspect reflecting on this moment, and all of the moments like it that she has experienced in this country so far.  While the medical  conversation drifted from the events of the night to other experiences and stories, Allie sat looking into the darkened distance over the hood of the truck,  as the headlights reached furtively into the night in an attempt to illuminate the coming unknown…Allie hoping to discern what Haiti might bring her next.


 

It turns out this wasn’t the whole story…you can find the continuation in “To Be Used“.  

 

7 Tips and Tricks for Enjoying a Haitian Church Service.

I wanted share my experience in Haiti by offering some quick tips and tricks for enjoying a Haitian church service.

1. Arrive Early.

For a service that is scheduled to start at 8:30, you want to make sure that you arrive no later than 8:35.  This helps insure that you get a good seat, and lets you do a little socializing before the service starts.  In the United States, we honor people by honoring their time, in Haiti, you honor people by acknowledging the struggle it takes to even make it to church.  This means that the service starts when most people have arrived, instead of when the clock says it is time to start.  When you don’t have a car and are depending on tap-tap, moto, or walking…it is a little bit hard to be precise.

2. Pick the right seat.

There are a few considerations to keep in mind when choosing your seat.   First, never sit directly in front of the speakers, arriving early will help guarantee you get to make this choice.  Your North American ears are far too delicate to enjoy the unbridled passion that will come bursting out the tattered cones of the church speakers.   Second, ALWAYS choose your seat based on the time of day, and the expected length of the service.  You want to choose a seat that is in the shade, and will remain in the shade for the duration of the service.  Seats in proximity to windows, or locations that have a strong and persistent breeze are great choices as well.   It is good to follow the locals on this, as they often know exactly where the best seats are.  It may be a bit crowded in the good seats, but if they weren’t good, they wouldn’t be crowded.

You can choose a seat in the sun if you want to sit by yourself.   Seriously…no one else is going to sit by you.  Do not ask me how I know this.  Bring sunscreen.  Seriously.

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Don’t sit here…you will regret it.

3. Singing.

If you are in a Haitian church, there is a good chance that you will not understand all of the words to the songs.  There is also a really good chance that there will not be any sort of lyric projection, or hymnals to follow along in.  This is fine.  If you feel moved by the music…you can attempt to learn the songs by listening and doing your best to repeat what you hear.

If you happen to be at a Haitian church that sings some songs in English, there are two important things to keep in mind.  The most important to remember is that they have almost certainly picked the English song because you are in their service.  Haitians do not enjoy singing in English so much that they just do it for fun when no white people are around.  They are honoring you with their song selection.  This brings me to my next point…

If they are singing in English, SING WITH THEM!  I don’t care if you know or like the song or not, they have made an effort to learn enough of your language to at least get the song close, please don’t dishonor their efforts by choosing to remain silent.

4. Offering.

They are going to take up an offering.  You may participate if you would like.  They may count the money at the end of the service, and this may be offensive to you.  If you find yourself feeling offended please consider the following advice.  I recommend you be very careful and think long and hard before you say anything.  This is not your church, this is not your culture, and you likely have more money wrapped up in your home and possessions than most Haitians will ever see in their lives.   If they want to joyfully give to the church in a guys versus girls competition to see who raises more money, I suggest you try to remember the last time your church gave money with so much generosity that the whole church was laughing with joy.  Yes it is different, but if you wanted to see things happen the same way every time, you might as well have stayed at home.

5. The Sermon.

You probably won’t understand what the pastor is saying.  If the pastor or someone else is translating Creole into English, keep in mind that this is a great honor.  The pastor is interrupting the flow of his speech to serve you.  Even if the pastor is not being translated, just sit and listen.  God will speak to an open heart.  I promise.

6. Standing and sitting.

You can pretty much do whatever you want on this one.  If everyone is standing, you should probably follow the crowd, the same goes for if everyone is sitting.  If there are people standing or sitting, you get to pick.  The only people worried about whether you are standing or sitting are the people who came with you.  The service really isn’t about you anyways.

7. Communion.

If you happen to be at a Haitian church when they offer communion, please take a moment to reflect on how special this is.  Churches all over the earth have celebrated communion in honor of Christ.  When you take communion anywhere you are joining with a global body of people who believe in Jesus, God’s son, in remembering his death on a cross for the forgiveness of our sins.  This is a sacred moment, cherish it.


 

Disclaimer: I suspect that Haitian churches can be a lot like North American churches in that they are all at least a little bit different than each other.  These tips are based on my personal experience of  attendance at two different Haitian churches, but by no means represent the whole country, or every church.  Use these tips at your own risk.   Please ask your doctor or your favorite Nurse Practitioner if you are healthy enough to stand during church, and before starting any vigorous dance moves during worship.  Blah blah blah….don’t sue me….etc. etc.  

Content

It’s our first full day in Haiti as a team, and as I sit down on the floor of the second level porch with a nice cool breeze blowing off the nearby ocean, I am ever so glad to be here.

As I look down the length of the porch, I can see most of the team that I am here with.  They are sitting together, gently conversing about the day, the gorgeous sunset or about home.  The energy and excitement that they used to climb in and out of the box truck we rode around in has gone, replaced by a soft contentment.  I haven’t asked any of them to express themselves yet, (that is coming…I am here to tell their stories after all) but I know they will struggle to find the words to describe how they feel.  I have been in their shoes, and it is only long experience that allows me to put their contentment into words.

In the United States, we each have jobs, families, and places to be or places to go.  Work is never done, and all of our obligations are never fully satisfied.   In Haiti, we have work to do, the family of the team, and many places to go, but when the day is done we can relax.  Together or apart, we find time to stop, reflect, and explore a quiet inwardness that we have not found in the U.S.

Perhaps the satisfaction comes from a job well done.  The team saw nearly 160 students today for eye exams and basic physical exams.  Each student now evaluated to be seen by a small medical team that arrives in July.  Nearly 800 more students will be seen by our team in the next few days.  It is a big job made harder by the language barrier, but those obstacles only slowed us down, the work for today is complete.

Alitza at the school, surrounded by students!

Alitza, Troy, and Beth at the school, surrounded by students!

Perhaps it comes from the climate, it is beautiful here, and I can’t remember the last time I have been so enraptured by the scenery around me.  8 miles on a trail in Shenandoah, one of our nation’s fine national parks, can’t even begin to hold a candle to the beauty that just naturally is around us here.  I could spend hours describing just the sunset.  Even as the palm branches wave beside me, I know that isn’t the true source of our contentment.

The picture hardly does it justice...

The picture hardly does it justice…

Instead of spending the next hours describing all sorts of incredible things and then telling you that they don’t bring contentment like this, I’ll cut to the chase.

Our contentment is found in being people, in a community, giving of our time, talents, and treasure to a larger goal.  Our contentment is found in forgetting about ourselves, as we seek to serve those who, though dirt poor, could teach us worlds about an inner life that we may never know.  Our contentment is found in this place without a TV, with limited connection to the internet, because we are fully present here.  There is so little that can overwhelm the immediacy of where we are.  I cherish these trips because I get to experience so much that I would never experience at home.  I experience it because there are no distractions loud enough to break through the noise of life around me here.

It makes me wonder if we could live like this in the United States.

In community.

Content.

I must leave you for now my friends…the moment needs me!

Yep…lots has happened since I wrote this post on our first night…and now that I’ve discovered the trick to internetting down here I should have more posts coming along soon.  Subscribe for the next adventure…which is really quite powerful and involves speeding down the road in the back of a pickup truck…seriously.    

NRN Gala Video

This short film was prepared for the 2014 NRN Gala on September 19th. It features photographs from several great photographers, (I will be getting their names shortly) video footage featuring Franklin, and footage from the 2013 & 2014 Dayspring Community Church Trip to Nicaragua. If you are looking for more NRN related videos, check out Daysprings NIcaragua Channel at https://vimeo.com/channels/803178.

Kathy McCloy contributed some of the still photos used in this film. You can check out her website at http://www.kathymccloy.com/

The rest of the still photos were contributed by Jason Chapman. SIte unknown…

You can read more about my experiences in Nicaragua or my other mission trips (such as Haiti) as well.

Want to sponsor a student of your own? Go to http://nicaresourcenet.org/ and check out the sponsorship options. It can change your life!