The danger of hunger
Benton pastor, Rev. Luke Weaver, reflects on troubled mission to Haiti
We left Benton on March 29 at 1 p.m., heading south to Boston.
Our team of eight included Duane and Connie MacMillan of Benton; John and Valerie (MacMillan) Joyel of Hull, Quebec; two brothers, Ivan and Samuel Johnson, along with their brother-in-law Andy Dickinson of Skiff Lake; and myself.
After spending the night in Boston, we caught the 5:30 a.m. flight to Miami, which was delayed two hours while the American Airlines handled a problem. The wait just prepared us for Haiti where waiting is common place.
Stepping off the plane into the 35 Degree Haitian heat was a shock, but a pleasant reprieve to the snow we left behind.
We collected our 15 bags of luggage loaded with blankets, clothing and tools, which the fine people back home helped provide. When we approach customs we always ask for God's favour, as they often try and pad their own pockets with the duty they charge. Our prayers were met with a wave of the hand to pass through.
We headed outdoors to meet our driver and the usual mob of want-to-be helpers. If they follow you with their hand on your luggage, they feel they're owed a tip. Although they're more hindrance than help, we obliged. This, after all, is how they feed their family. It's always a blessing to get into a truck or van and leave the noisy mob to their dispute over the money you handed the self-proclaimed "Boss."
From the airport, we weave through trucks, cars, cycles, carts and people. Most are honking or yelling as they display an urgency to get somewhere.
We pass an open market which has mounds of beautiful fruits and vegetables sitting in the middle of something that looks like my barnyard after a spring rain. The produce looks good, but the smell makes you want to fast for the duration of your trip.
After a 26-mile drive, which can take anywhere from 45 minutes to two hours, we arrive at a cement wall with a huge metal gate. The driver toots the horn and a uniformed person holding a sawed-off shotgun swings open the gate to our 10-acre compound. It holds a guest house – which can sleep about 25 people – a church; a school; a feeding program building, which runs two shifts a day; a girl's orphanage that houses 59 girls; and a clinic large enough to care for 25 to 30 people a day. However, we see as many as 200 people go through it in one day.
Behind the clinic is a pharmacy with most shelves empty. We were blessed to carry five large bottles of Tylenol 1 and Ibuprophen, along with some multi-vitamins donated by Rock and Margery Columbe of Brockville, Ont.
Next to the pharmacy sits the large structure we will be working on. It will become a 75-bed children's hospital. As always, houseworkers greet us with exuberance and provide a very nice meal.
The next morning we wake up at 5 a.m. to the sound of the roosters crowing. We find our way up the small spiral stairway to the flat cement roof where we watch the sun come up over the Caribbean. We have a time of quiet meditation as the different team members arrive for devotions.
After breakfast we walk around the compound to see if other visiting teams did anything since our last visit two years earlier. To our disappointment, little was done.
Seeing water on the unfinished cement floor of the hospital we decided to buy iron for metal trusses and transparent roofing for the 10 x 17' skylight as well as two large stair wells and metal roofing for the two elevator shafts.
Ivan Johnson started the job of fabricating the trusses. With the help of Duane, Samuel and Andy, he did a job which would have pleased Neil McClellan of Meductic Welding.
Duane, part of the team and our host, left on Friday for a convention with the mountain people in Thiotte. They returned Sunday. In the meantime we got a call from home saying Blair Grant passed away. We couldn't make connections to get home for the funeral, so my best friend and co-pastor Bonnie said she would do the funeral.
That morning for devotions I read a verse out of Isaiah 43:2 2.
"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned."
Duane said he was reading the same verse waiting for the group to gather. When we went to pick them up, the streets were empty. That wasn't a good sign, but we proceeded in our two-ton truck. About five miles from the compound we saw a road block. We stopped about 100-metres before it. When they saw us, they jumped in their vehicles and came after us.
Our driver backed around and headed, as fast as possible, the wrong way up the highway. Our big truck couldn't outrun their SUV. But for some reason, (we believe it was our angels, they stopped. Upon arriving back to the compound we discovered the road block was part of a hunger demonstration, and the UN troops had shot a few already.
We tried to call the team at the airport, but couldn't get through, so Bishop Joel got in touch with another pastor close to the airport and asked if he would pick up the team from Oregon. It was hard to work and not keep wondering how we could get our team to the airport the next day.
About 5 p.m., I called the embassy, and they told me things were at such an emergency level they couldn't help at that time. They said if we felt safe in our compound to stay there and call in the morning. Don't try to move at night, they added.
About an hour later, as darkness fell, an embassy guard showed up with a plain-clothed police. They said we should get as close to the airport as we could that night.
We packed in a hurry throwing everything in the back of the big blue truck and headed for the Visa Lodge Hotel. Along the way we passed by the spot where three or four people were shot that afternoon. As we got close to that intersection, it started to rain hard and all the people cleared off the streets. Again, God's faithfulness!
Arriving at our hotel we saw all kinds of UN trucks and guards. That made us feel a bit safer until they told us they didn't have any rooms. Pleading our case, they finally gave us a banquet room and mattresses on the floor – for $100 U.S.
The next morning the rest of the team, with our new friend, Pastor Marcus, met us in a truck big enough to take us all to the airport. We needed five new tickets, and, two-hours later, we boarded a plane to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Previously, six members of our team headed back to Benton via Miami.
Ivan Johnson and I bid farewell to the three from Oregon in Ft Lauderdale. After a night in Miami, we got a flight to Boston. We arrived in Benton on April 9 – four days early.
We learned a very valuable lesson, "Where God guides He provides."
Thanks so much for your prayers and generosity. We are watching the news and hope to head back in June to work on the children's hospital.
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