Haiti's Response

Our team heard from many that when the earthquake struck, Haitians thought the world was literally ending. It wasn't, but the survivors haven’t lost their big-picture perspective.

As we conducted interviews, we kept expecting to talk to people who were angry at God – angry for losing their homes, angry for being injured, angry for losing loved ones. We didn’t meet any.

Instead, we kept hearing thankfulness. They are thankful to still be alive. They are thankful to still have their families. And they are thankful for the help that is coming.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

They believe that God’s protection was only reason they survived the earthquake.

So, right now, Haiti is more open to the Gospel than ever.

Many people asked us to tell them about God when they found out we were Christians. I watched as our translator, Junior, fearlessly witnessed to those we met and passionately prayed for them.

The harvest in plentiful, and I'm excited to see how God moves through Haiti in the coming months.

What I Hope to See Next

It’s hard to experience something like Haiti without forming some opinions about it. I grew very fond of the Haitians we met, and I want the right thing to be done by them.

One thing the international community did very right was getting medical personal operational so quickly. The clinics are vital and have certainly saved lives. I’m very impressed by how efficient and helpful these medical efforts have been.

Unfortunately, we also saw uncoordinated organizations, ill-prepared volunteers and supplies bottlenecked at the Port-au-Prince airport. The international community’s enthusiasm to help may have created a reckless rush to act.

The immediate need of medical care was well met, but other needs are more long-term and require a strategic approach. It would have been wiser for other volunteers to pause, plan and coordinate before taking action.

All the same, I love how passionate and available people have made themselves. I think we have learned a lot from Katrina and the Tsunami.

But let’s be thoughtful about how we help next.

From the beginning, Haiti was a crippled nation. Colonial slaves won independence from France 200 years ago. But as a nation of recently freed slaves, the population was largely uneducated and without resources. As the years have gone on, Haiti has experienced incredible corruption and poverty, creating a huge need.

This need has not gone unnoticed. Many organizations have been at work in Haiti for years. But it is a difficult place to work as, some say, a dependence on outside help has developed.

When long-term efforts do begin to unfold in Haiti, it should be with a “teach a man to fish” model. Haitians need to be enabled to help each other.

The best way to do this is by equipping the Haitian Church to reach out to its neighborhoods.

Individuals who are willing to work hard and get an education usually leave the country altogether. But the Haitian Christians work hard, get an education and stay to help and minister.

Haitian Christians are people of intelligence and strong character who know both the language and the culture of their country. They are better suited than anyone to minister to their fellow Haitians.

If we send them our resources, they will distribute. If we send them our volunteers, they will direct. If we enable them to act, they will make a difference in their country.

We should partner with our Haitian brothers and sisters.

In Haiti: Ronel Mesidor

Pastor Ronel Mesidor was on his way home from working at Compassion International in Port-au-Prince. Halfway there, the earthquake hit.

When the tremors finally stopped, Ronel didn’t know what to do. The road was too messed up to continue driving. And all the phones were down. He couldn’t contact his family or his church. With no other option, Ronel began walking home. All night, he made his way through a night-mare landscape of death, destruction and despair.

Hours later, as the sun was coming up, Ronel arrived home. To his relief, his wife and five children were all right. He also found that both his house and his church were still standing.

Ronel and his family had been spared the destruction. This enabled them to reach out to their neighbors right away.

Ronel’s wife, Manise, is a nurse and began treating people out of their home. They also made space available to friends left homeless, and there are now 12 non-family members living in the Mesidor household. At night, they serve a meal, tell jokes, sing songs and pray together. Their children told me that this bedtime routine is their favorite part of the day. Then, they pull mattresses into the street and bed down for the night with their neighbors (people are still unwilling to spend the night under a roof).

Ronel’s church, Concord Baptist, has also become a haven for many. During the day, the church is a clinic, and a doctor friend of Ronel’s treats patients who line up outside the door. In the evenings, Ronel leads a short worship service, food is prepared, and people bring out blankets and pillows to sleep on the church grounds.

The Mesidors have even adopted four children into their already big family, three of which were left orphaned by the earthquake. Currently Ronel is leading efforts to prepare the church grounds to host volunteer teams that will soon be coming in.

We had the chance to visit Ronel’s church and home and talk with his family. It’s amazing to see the impact one family has had on their community. And they are only one example of how our Haitian brothers and sisters are already ministering in the quake aftermath.

Keep the Mesidors in your prayers.

In The D.R.: Tim Dortch and Michael Acosta

Our team owes a lot to the Hispaniola Mountain Ministry.

Tim Dortch, a bi-vocational pastor from Mississippi, began the mission based in Barahona, D.R. with the help of his church.

When Tim is in the States, he entrusts the work of the ministry to his partner, Michael Acosta. Michael grew up in Barahona, and now lives there with his wife and two sons. He leads the Hispaniola Mountain Ministry church and works with Tim when he’s in town.

Since the earthquake, Michael has been hosting volunteer teams by making arrangements for them and leading them through Haiti.

Tim has quit one of his jobs in the States and left his church in the care of other leadership in order to come to the D.R. indefinitely. He anticipates that many volunteer teams will need the help of his ministry as they come to serve Haiti.

Together, Tim and Michael have sacrificed their time and resources to serve the teams that have already been coming to Barahona to cross the border. But Tim has a long-term plan.

Many Haitian immigrants live and work in the mountain orchards of the D.R. In the coming months, many more will be leaving the earthquake-ravaged Haiti, crossing the border on foot and joining their friends and relatives in the D.R. These refugees will likely be in need of food, water, and medical attention. But Tim fears they will be forgotten, as most the help will go directly to Port-au-Prince.

So Tim and Michael are preparing. Already the two have been scouting the mountain villages, looking for those in need and planning for how to provide care.

Please Pray for the ministry of Tim, Michael and the Hispaniola Mountain Ministry.

In Haiti: Hubert Duchatelier

Hubert Duchatelier is a Haitian Christian who has made an effort to counter the voodoo beliefs of his river valley neighborhood, Vallee de Bourdon. Having recently completed Bible school, he helps foreign missionaries in Haiti, holds Bible studies in his home and leads morning and evening devotions for his neighbors.

At least he used to.

Since the earthquake, almost nobody lives in Vallee de Bourdon. The once beautiful hillside neighborhood has become a ghost town. Those who can’t leave have moved into the pig shacks along a riverbed. Hubert is heartbroken to see his neighbors suffer this humiliation, but it’s their only safe option. Their unstable concrete houses are now completely uninhabitable.

Hubert has had to move his wife, Maria, and their five children to Maria’s hometown, Saint-Marc. He sometimes returns to Valle de Bourdon to minister to his friends, but he’s looking to what God has next for him.

He intends to continue his Bible studies and daily devotionals in his new Saint-Marc neighborhood. The earthquake has done nothing to diminish Hubert’s passion to share the gospel.

Please pray for Hubert as he continues his ministry in a new location.

In Haiti: Nicole Douglas

While in Port-au-Prince, we stayed in God’s Littlest Angels orphanage. There was space for us because, within two weeks of the earthquake, 80% of their kids had been adopted and moved out of the country. Volunteers seeking lodging quickly filled the newly made space.

One of the volunteers I met was a Christian woman named Nicole Douglass.

Nicole is a young nurse in the middle of getting her masters degree. She had volunteered with the orphanage in the past and quickly returned when she heard about the earthquake. When I met her she had already been working for days in the clinic at the Baptist Haiti Mission nearby.

Her days were filled with difficulty – surgeries, amputations and deaths. She was on the verge of tears once as she told me about a baby no one thought would survive the night.

But Nicole loves the work and was always positive. She told me about sharing in friendships, hugs, births and Bibles. No matter how hard her day, she always came back smiling.

She told me recently that she has suspended her studies and signed on to work at the clinic for another six months. I’m not surprised – she loves the people of Haiti.

Please pray for Nicole as she cares for the survivors of the earthquake.

In Haiti: Junior Cineas

My best friend in Haiti was a man named Junior Cineas. I don’t think we ever would have found him if God hadn’t led us to him. At first, he was simply meeting with us to talk. Then he began working with us as our translator. By the end of our time there, he was our dear friend.

Junior is the son of a Voodoo priest and was raised in the Port-au-Prince area. He was taught Voodoo as a child and was expected to take his father’s place as a Voodoo priest in the future.

But as a teenager, Junior heard the gospel and gave his life to Christ. It was a decision that would completely change his life – and would affect the lives of others.

Junior’s newfound faith, and abandonment of voodoo, caused a rift in his family. They essentially disowned him, and his father stopped speaking to him.

But Junior found a new home with a family of Missionaries in Port-au-Prince. They took him in, discipled him, and loved them as their own. Years later, Junior is a seminary student and an ardent evangelist.

Junior still prays for his family to meet Jesus.

When the earthquake struck, Junior went to Port-au-Prince to see how he could help. A speaker of both Creole and English, he knew he would be useful to volunteer teams coming in.

But the clinic Junior started working for was forced to close due to limited resources. He was praying about what to do next when our paths crossed with his. Junior saw our meeting as God’s direction, and devoted himself to helping us find God’s stories. He translated, set up meetings and suggested story ideas. I don’t know what we would have done without him.

I am most thankful for our meeting with Junior because it gave me a chance to see his heart for his country. He knows that the God of the Bible is greater than Voodoo, and he desperately wants his countrymen to know Jesus like he does. Everywhere we went Junior shared the gospel with those who were open. He even invited me to join him, translating for me as I prayed for the Haitians he witnessed to.

Meeting Junior was a blessing in a huge way, and I am forever grateful to God for bringing us into each other's lives.

Please pray for Junior as he Shares his faith in Haiti.

Controversies

No major news story is without its controversies. So I’ll speak shortly to the ones that came up surrounding Haiti.

First, there was the Pat Robertson incident. On the CBN show, the 700 Club, he referenced a story about how Haiti made a pact with the Devil 200 years ago in order to beat the French. He then suggested that Haiti’s past poverty and present earthquake might have been parts of the resulting curse.

Voodoo has been a major part of Haitian society throughout its history, so this story isn’t impossible. But even if it’s true, it’s foolish to bring it up now. Referencing this rumored story is essentially blaming the victim. It was totally inappropriate. Haiti needs help, not a scolding from an old, white guy.

Then there was the incident with the Baptist volunteers from Idaho who got themselves arrested. They had taken children under false pretenses and were trying to smuggle them across the border.

This bothered me for two reasons.

One, there is absolutely no need to smuggle kids out of Haiti. The real orphanages in Port-au-Prince have done an amazing job taking care of orphaned Haitians. While in Port-au-Prince, we found lodging at one of these orphanages. They had space for us because, within two weeks of the earthquake, 80% of their kids had been adopted and moved out of the country. It was all completely efficient and completely legit. This group of imposters just hurt the kids they were trying to help.

And two, the coverage of these arrested "missionaries" took attention away from where it really belonged - with the suffering Haitians and how we can help them.

Hope

I braced myself to see difficult things as I went into Haiti, and I did. But I also saw something I didn’t expect: Beauty. And the grim context made these moments of human tenderness all the more moving.

Music is a vital part of Haitian culture and we saw it everywhere we went. Whether expressing sorrow or hope, we could always hear singing. A young man with a keyboard played us a sad song he wrote for his girlfriend who died in the earthquake. One night, we danced with a crowd of kids in a tent city while Caribbean beats played on a boom box. I did the electric slide with a group of kids in a church after a service. And a group of smiling pastor’s daughters sang to us in perfect harmony. One of them even wrote me a poem in French - with beautiful handwriting - about the importance of women in society. The Haitians are a beautiful people.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

The people spending themselves to help the Haitians are also beautiful. The immediate response of medical volunteers has made a life-or-death difference for many. I was amazed at how doctors and nurses would work in the clinics for days on end. And what is more amazing is how cheerful they sacrificially employ their skills for those who can't ever repay them. Beyond medical care, volunteers form friendships with their patients and provide emotional support as well. Heroes don’t wear capes – Some wear scrubs.

But the coolest thing I saw among the Haitians was their faith. Haitian Christians are truly emulating Christ in the way they have reached out to their neighbors at this time. Though they themselves are also victims of the earthquake, they provide for others' physical needs as much as they are able. And they take every opportunity to share their faith at a time when many are looking for answers.

Haitian Christians are also eagerly anticipating the chance to join in the efforts of their international Christian brothers and sisters who come to help their country.

Consider it.

The Hardest Things

Everywhere we went we encountered things that made my heart sink. But some things stuck with me, running through my mind for days afterward.

The youngest victims I saw were toddlers – brothers who had been saved from the rubble of their home. The oldest one’s hand had been irreparably crushed, and had to be removed. His empty wrist was wrapped in gauze. At two years old, he was already an amputee.

While everyone knows about the physical damage the earthquake brought, we weren’t expecting the damaged relationships. But the rush to deliver victims to emergency care resulted in many family members being separated from each other. We talked to several people who told us they had no idea where their family members were or even if they were alive. The collapsed infrastructure means that phone services and other forms of communication aren’t readily accessible. And with bodies buried unidentified in mass graves, it might be years before people know for sure what has happened to their loved ones. In the meantime, they deal with not knowing – and with incredible loneliness.

Another hard thing to deal with was the tension we felt as journalists covering a disaster. We were writing these stories to inspire people to help, and had even delivered a load of supplies upon entering the city. But we had nothing else to offer. Still, people kept assuming that because we were white, we had something to give them. “Give me a tent,” “Give me food,” and “Give me a job.” But all I had on me was my notepad, and the knowledge that help was coming soon.

I met a girl my age – her name was Jully. Though she didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Creole, we tried to talk for a while. Mostly, she tried to convince me to give her a tent, and I was tried to convince her I didn’t have one to give. At one point, she assured me that she was “awesome” and motioned toward my belt with her eyes. I pretended I hadn't understood her, but I had. She was offering a sexual favor in exchange for some shelter. My heart broke a little in that moment.

Like I’ve Never Seen

The piles of bodies we had seen on TV were no longer in the streets of Port-au-Prince when we arrived. Most had been buried – unidentified - in mass graves to prevent the spread of disease. But the Haitian Capital was an emotionally draining place to be all the same. People were suffering all around us.

We saw high-rise concrete buildings collapsed like telescopes. Entire stories had been crushed as ceilings met floors. Hills of rubble lined the streets, some with car trunks or motorcycle wheels sticking out the bottom. Bulldozers attempted to clear roads while carefully searching for possible survivors. In residential neighborhoods, walls had collapsed revealing the now abandoned interiors of what had once been people’s homes.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

As we drove past one street corner, we saw a body that had recently been pulled from the rubble. It looked like a pile of clothes, but had a human hand reaching out from it.

On a couple occasions we passed the U.S. and Canadian embassies. No matter the time of day, there were long lines of Haitians seeking visas to leave the country.

Those with no other option but to stay set up tent cities in public parks. They hung tarps and blankets from strings tied to tree branches and used broom handles as tent poles. People with open wounds and untreated injuries lay listlessly on salvaged mattresses. Children played together, smiling from beneath head-bandages, and families cooked pots of rice over camp stoves. Suspending dignity, women bathed in the open. And gutters filled to overflowing with human waste as clean water became more and more scarce.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

While talking with people in a tent-city outside a Cathedral, a commotion erupted at the next tent. I saw a young man trying to take something from a woman who was desperately trying to keep it. Within seconds others joined the tug of war. A mob formed. Fists flew. What had been a scuffle suddenly became a huge fight. We left as fast as we could and watched from a safe distance until it was safe to return.

In a context of scarcity and desperation, such fights are inevitable. For this reason, foreign military has provided security to relief efforts. We witnessed the process of one organization’s distribution (I won’t name the organization here). U.S. army personal created a perimeter while a selected crowd listened to an obligatory religious message. Afterward, they lined up to receive a package of supplies before being quickly shuffled off the premises. The distribution was faceless and mechanical. And our translator told as that once the people exited the area, the crowd outside would rush them. Those too weak to hold onto their things – the elderly women, for example – wouldn’t get to keep what they had just received.

While some were panicked, others were still in shock. The most bizarre thing I saw was a grown man walking down the street – completely naked. We saw him at least twice, and both times he seemed completely dazed and unaware of what was happening around him.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

Walls left standing were covered by earthquake-inspired graffiti:

A map of Haiti with crying eyes

Requests for food and water

The words, "Obama, we need change"

Going to Haiti

On a Tuesday evening - at about 5 p.m. January 12, 2010 - a 7.0 magnitude earthquake destroyed Haiti. More than 200,000 died. Countless more were left injured and homeless.

[Photo borrowed – I forgot my camera!]

Two weeks later, I found myself in Port-au-prince working on my first story assignment. Our team of three – photographer, videographer and writer - were going to tell the stories of how God is working in the lives of earthquake survivors. It would be a more personal account than what was being reported by the major news networks.

It took us three days to arrange supplies, a driver, a translator, lodging and border access. Even once these considerations were more or less in place, communication barriers made it impossible for us to reach our connections.

Despite the logistical obstacles, we made it into the collapsed city. On the outskirts of town, life seemed to have already returned to normalcy. But we realized how misleading this first impression was as we drove into the worst hit areas of town.

We encountered utter destruction like I’d never seen.