I get up with the construction team, at
6:00am, and wander down to the fence to watch Hatians go about the
start of their day. A number of people bring goats to the river just
north of us, and every morning I see three older gentlemen walk by. All
three of them are slow, bent, and dressed poorly, but the oldest is
without shoes and carries a sack and a stick. As they slowly work their
way up the beach, he uses the stick to steady himself, and occasionally
to push at an item on the ground. When he notices something edible (I
did not see exactly what) he stoops to pick it up and put it in his
sack. The other two carry small plastic pails. Half an hour or so later,
I see them work their way back the way they came.
This morning I see an interesting thing... the fishermen row their boat
out and then wait. They sit or stand in their boat until nearly 7:00am,
then (as if there was some signal) they start to work. Not sure exactly
what this means.
Today should be a short day, as it is a Haitian holiday (the start of
their war of independance from France) and children do not have to go to
school. That said, students at Degeance were asked to be there for
their photographs as it is the only chance we have of taking them.
Degeance is a school in a village up in the mountains, so we will have
to hike part of the way in. Unlike M.P.C.A, are about three-hundred
students at Degeance, so there will always be team members free to take
photographs.
Degeance School sign, photo by Stephen Hermer
We drove as far into the mountains as we could, then hiked the rest of
the way in. The school itself is build on a slope, at the bottom of a
village, surrounded by mountains and plantain trees. There is only
partially concrete school-house (for four classrooms), a cinderblock
principal's office, and a few school-huts made of woven palm leaves.
Degeance School, photo courtesy Dave Lawrence
As we arrived, we were shown into the four-class school house to rest
(it being very hot in the sun) and wait for the children. A number of
children arrived, and we witnessed the Haitian flag raising ceremony
that they perform every morning. Afterwards, we set set up to take
photographs under the shade of the large central tree.
Concrete school-house in Degeance, holding four classes at once, photo courtesy of Dave Lawrence
We were surprised to discover that almost all of the children showed up,
even thought it was a holiday. I believe we only had six absentees.
Students line up at Degeance, photo courtesy of Scott Cantelo
These kids were obviously happy to be
going to school, bright eyed and smiling most of the time that I saw
them. Like the students at M.P.C.A., they were very friendly and
appeared to be healthy and well-nourished. Because this is a smaller
school, there were not so many grades and very few older children.
Stephen Hermer, working at Degeance, photo courtesy of Scott Cantelo
After the sponsorship photographs were finished, we were introduced to
Pastor Herve's discipleship boys. These boys may end up in Bible school
or as leaders in their community, but for now they are a shining
example of what hope and faith can do in a community.
Degeance principal, Pastor Herve, and his discipleship group, photo by Stephen Hermer
Pastor Herve offered to give us a
short tour if the house of one of the discipleship boys, so we walked up
the mountain a little more to visit his home.
Trail up the mountain to the village above Degeance, photo courtesy of Scott Cantelo
This home was two rooms, perhaps 3m x 10m in size, made of cinder blocks, with a sheet metal roof.
Villiage home of one of the discipleship boys, photo courtesy of Scott Cantelo
The village is basically a cluster of small homes, spread out across
very uneaven land. There is no running water, no sewer, no garbage
pickup, no mail... no road... just dirt and people. It was a surprise
for me, I knew people lived in huts and were very poor, but I also saw
the children in their clean school uniforms, and teachers wearing
dresses and suits. How do they do it? How does someone live 9 people to a
dirt-floor hut and manage to have clean and ironed school clothing?
Another interior shot of the same village home, photo courtesy of Dave Lawrence
After seeing the home of the discipleship boy, we moved further
uphill into the village, and visited another home. This one also
consisted of two rooms, but was made of cemented stones instead of
cinderblock. Inside, we met the owner of the home, a friend of Pastor
Herve's.
This man was proud to show us his home, photo courtesy Dave Lawrence
This was the first time I got to see how the Hatians live, I mean up
close, really live. I'm not sure what I was expecting, except maybe
that people lived simply or had less "stuff" than we do. But it went far
beyond that, people don't have floors. People sweet the dirt in Haiti.
When they are thirsty, they either get water from a container, or they
walk to the nearest supply... which might be a polluted stream, 30
minutes away.
Water jug in Hatian home, photo courtesy of Dave Lawrence
The above photo is an example of a water jug that would be located
in a Hatian home. Keeping water in such a jug is convenient, and would
keep the water cool, but it doesn't solve the problem of clean water.
People do their washing and cooking outside, of course, with small
cook-fires being located outside the homes we visited.
From left to right: Stephen Hermer, Brenda, Seth, Bethany, Aimee, Stephanie, Emily MacDonald,
Dave Lawrence, and Lindsay. Not pictured, Scott Cantelo.
We hiked back to the truck, and drove back to the compound in the
early afternoon. We had the option of joining the construction team for
the afternoon, but everyone elected to remain at the compound to relax
and perhaps reflect on their experiences.
For my part, I spent some time on the beach, and went for my first
swim. I also spent some time on my own, thinking and trying to reconcile
my experiences. It seems strange to me, sitting in the compound with a
bed, showers, safe water, hot food... all the comforts of home, while
Hatians walk past to get water from the polluted river just a little
North. I start to feel like the compound is a problem, almost a symbol
of Western failures. Here we are, rich and white, staying in a resort on
the beach, eating wonderful food and swimming in the beautiful ocean...
all within sight of the poor Hatian's that fish and travel past. They
must resent us.
Typical sunset viewed from the Mission Possible compound in Lanzac, Haiti. Photo by Stephen Hermer
It is one thing to see the good work
that Mission Possible does, but it is entirely another to visit
someone's home, and to see how they really live. I have a lot to think
about, and I don't feel like eating anymore.