June 13 2014
This is our first day in Haiti. We landed in the afternoon
and spent 2 hours waiting in the airport for the luggage and later waiting in a
big van with 16 others from our team, as well as our coordinator Patrick and Brun,
a police officer who came with us. After this we drove through what seemed to
me like a mountain path cut with handheld tools to Father Roosevelt’s rectory.
We talked along the way about poverty in the Third World, similarities with
India and so on. But even with the crushing load of poverty India has, I don’t
think a road so bumpy and treacherous leading out of any city exists anywhere
in India. I’m beginning to understand Dr. Paul Farmer’s reasoning behind his
bad back as being the difficult travel from Port au Prince to the central
plateau and back.
Most of what we travelled through in Port-au-Prince felt
like an extended Mumbai slum with no end in sight. While I was prepared to find
poverty and was not shocked, the sheer pervasiveness of it throughout the city
was something I had not expected. Joyce had prepared me for this but it was
clearly not enough. I had expected some nice looking places, but I did not find
one along the way. Curiously I found, among signs advertising John Deere,
Peugeot and other Western brands, both Mahindra and Tata showrooms. Besides
these occasional glimmers of private capital at work, most of what I saw was
wretchedness. The arguments against “poverty porn” seem to fizzle out against
such a staggering reality. The effects of the 2010 earthquake have not yet
fully disappeared. It was sweet to see the faces of kids smiling at us from
outside the van windows as we went by. For a moment I thought of Pat
Robertson’s insensitive comment about the earthquake being God’s judgment upon
the Haitians for practicing voodoo. More flippancy upon the wretched of the
earth.
We arrived at Father Roosevelt’s place after a 2 hour drive
along this bumpy mountain path and were greeted by kids and youth who live
nearby or at the rectory. After spending some time setting up our mosquito nets,
we had lunch and gathered at the rooftop to worship. I played the guitar and we
sang ’10,000 reasons’, ‘Blessed be the Name’ and other such songs. I feel this
group has been so kind and hospitable to me to let me come with them, all under
the pretext of being an alleged “worship leader”. What a deal! Father Roosevelt
spoke briefly and talked about demonstrating Jesus’ love to the people. Very
touching. I found the same mango variety in the rectory compound (‘moovandan’)
that we have at my parents’ home in Cochin. It is a beautiful place, full of
trees we know and love in Southern India, especially what we call the
‘Gulmohar’ or the flame of the forest.
We checked out the church Father Roosevelt is building, the
school, the clinic and a nearby half-finished outdoor stage-like place, where
the local youth had gathered around a TV set to watch the Australia vs Chile
soccer match. I got to practice my French on some unsuspecting Haitians who
obliged me by responding in English. I continued firmly in French. This should
be the subject of a sitcom- it would make for good viewing provided you knew
both languages. What great kids- they parted with me saying God bless you. I’m
looking forward to tomorrow, when we will visit the village. On Sunday we set
up the clinic and from Monday through Thursday we will see patients. I will
work the ‘triage’ or intake area with one of our team. Looking forward to it.
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