Ownership

Ownership

Ownership means it’s yours.  All yours.  Like owning a car after its all paid off.  It may be motionally challenged and rattle; but it’s all yours.

I think the same concept can help develop your reaction to tasks that you don’t like to do.  For me, it is getting to know new people or being in a strange place.  It makes me uncomfortable.  In the past I’ve relied heavily on my wife and kids to mediate and take care of that short suit of mine.  In Haiti it’s a little bit different.  There is no one here to lean on.  I have to be me; I have to reach out and meet new people; I have to get to know strangers.  In a sense, I have to take ownership of my social skills or I will end up being an island, all by myself, unhappy and crabby.

I’ve discovered that the same applies to those at home.  My wife relied heavily on me to take care of the financial stuff, paying bills, budgeting the money as it came in.  I encouraged her many times to come down to my office and I’d show her how to do stuff.  Either we never had the time, didn’t want to take the time, or just didn’t want to…I think more of the latter.  So after leaving for Haiti she suddenly had all that thrown in her lap.  She was forced into ownership.  I think all along she knew how to do.  I just wasn’t sure.  From what I’ve seen, she has done a good job and is on top of it.  I’m proud of her and also feel more at peace because now I know she can take care of herself if something should happen to me.

It is important for each of us to expand our horizons and grow more fluent in the tasks we don’t like to do.  After a month I find it easier to make friends out of strangers.  My wife finds it easier to balance and budget a checkbook.  Each of us had a short suit that needed developing, but it was easier to lean on our spouse to take care of that which we didn’t like.  I am finding that part of being a well rounded Christian is knowing how to perform those tasks that we are not comfortable in. 

Another aspect of ownership is moving forward and doing things on your own with confidence knowing that your spouse has your support.  Michelle has been able to update our bed and refrigerator while I’ve been gone.  She’s been redecorating a little here and there and we are considering new furniture for the living room.  We’ve talked about these things over the years but never seemed to find the time and money to do them.  It was almost as if we were in each other’s way in getting stuff done.  She has done a great job organizing things while I’ve been gone and has also made some decisions and moved forward with many changes.  She has ownership, and my support, and is finding a confidence in making these choices by herself.  I’m confident that I’ll be amazed at what she is capable of when I return home.

So I’ve found an unintended benefit to being here.  I’ve gained confidence because I’ve found that God is capable of using me, just as I am, in situations where I previously thought I was inadequate.  My wife has also gained confidence knowing that she can and does make good decisions in my absence in the areas that I always took care of.  It complements each of us knowing that we are stronger, and our spouse is stronger.  How much more at peace will we be when we are reunited and can make informed choices and do tasks together because now we both know the inner workings of how those things operate and are done.

Goodbyes

Goodbyes

SP has many fine, interesting Christians both on their staff and as volunteers.  Volunteers come anywhere from a week to two weeks and are put to work on a project in line with their skill set.  Paid staff are hired on a contract basis that ranges from three months up to a year or more.  Year staff also get paid leave time to visit the States every few months. 

One thing a little hard to get used to is the steady coming and going of both groups.  I never really know or remember who is coming or going when and for how long.

RL is one of those volunteers.  He showed up two weeks ago wandering around the yard looking for a screen.  I was on the loader at the time so I paused to see if I could lend him a hand.  His speech was a little difficult to understand but I kind of got the jist of what he was needing.  RL was a mason who came down from North Carolina to assist the laborers in laying the block for the various new structures.  At that moment he was in search of a screen that he could sift the sand with.  It was too coarse for the mortar joints as it sat in the pile; he wanted to sift it to separate out the finer mortar sand.  I threw a couple of options at him but they didn’t really fit what he had in his head so I recommended he talk to someone more familiar with stuff on the base.

As the week went along I discovered that RL had a good sense of humor, dry as it was, and was a professional at his trade.  I also found that, 14 months earlier, he had been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease, a terminal degenerative illness.  His difficulty in speech was an early symptom.  As we talked one evening RL expressed a great satisfaction in what he was doing.  At 60, he was glad to share his masonry skills with the Haitians.  He also had brought an entire suitcase of toys with him to share with the kids at the Lamb orphanage in Leogane.  I was inspired that a man with such difficulties would spend his last years of useful life sharing them with the people and children of Haiti. 

I had to say goodbye to RL tonight as he is leaving early in the morning to return home.  I will miss him.

I also got a big hug from Dave.  He is also leaving in the morning.  Like RL, he had volunteered for a couple of weeks.  Dave, in his middle 60’s, lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and has ended up being a painter of houses.  “I hated to paint”, he told me.  “But after doing it for seventeen years, I guess I’ve learned to like it.”  He wants to buy a house in Florida so he can enjoy the sunshine and warmth of our southern state.  Grandkids keep them affixed in PA for now, but, “who knows, that may change soon”. 

Dave enjoyed driving around the country with Neil and RL on the weekends.  Along with Francois, they made up the “Fabulous Four”; a name generated only because of the lack of something cleverer.  They traveled over the mountains to Jachmal, the beachside community 50 kilometers south of here.  The previous weekend they traveled to the western end of the island and toured Cayes, an old town with an old mission church being slowly restored.  They found an unmarked dirt road that took them to an overlook; a beach view from 1500 feet up on the mountain.  Dave took lots of photos and will take them home as fond memories.

This morning after chapel, he and I talked for a few moments about the mixed emotions he had about leaving.  On one hand he wanted to see his family, on the other he wanted to continue working here with his newfound family and friends.  I listened.  When he was done I commented that working overseas, like in Haiti, is a little bit of a fantasy.  All the required needs to live are provided; food, shelter, materials, laundry … the work was with Christians who, generally speaking, practice a strong work ethic and are more open to sharing their Christian values and way of life that complements constructive work activity.  The people are lively, focused and fun to work with.  The overall goal of the project and work was inspiring and was good to be a part of.  On the other hand, at home was the same routine; repetitive work, bills to pay, family issues to address. Returning home paled by comparison.  I continued by sharing how God places responsibilities in our lives that we are committed to; a spouse, grandchildren, a loving family.  These relationships are given by God as a blessing for us and are to be nurtured and cared for.  I also shared that, in my opinion, when the Lord opens the door for ministry in a strange land, he will also work with those relationships to provide a Godly support group at home and that everyone involved would be in agreement as to the mission, its time span and involvement.  I believe, since God blesses us with those relationships, it is priority to have those in syc with what we think He is showing us to do. Dave listened and slowly nodded his head.  He said he understood what I was saying and really appreciated what I had to say.

Dave and RL will most likely return to Haiti next year. I think their positive experience will rub off on their respective families and ignite a supporting spark.  But it is always best to have some time to reflect on an experience, and to be away from it for a season before making a judgment call on it. 

If I’m still here I will look forward to being a part of their extended contribution to what God is doing here. But in the meantime, safe travels; we will miss you both.

Bugs

Bugs

Today was an exceptionally dirty and dusty day.  Another steamer at 94; lots of sweat to boot. It was definitely time for a nice cold shower to wash off the grime.

I’ve been told to keep an eye out for uninvited ‘guests’ in the shower room.  The building is open to the outside; has wooden walls that extend up 7 feet or so with a large air space above that; and then the roof.  They are concrete stalls with a shower nozzle and an on/off valve to start the water flowing from the tanks on the roof.  A swinging ‘bar’ type door is on each of the four stalls.  The showers themselves, though, aren’t all working….maybe three are.

Yesterday I had a visit from the three chameleons that hugged the rafters on the ceiling.  They averaged six or seven inches long including their tales.  They kinda hung around one of the lightbulbs; probably for the heat since it was after dark.  I call them the three stooges since they’ve shown up more than once.  Must be a family.  Moe is the bigger of the three; he’s has primary spot next to the bulb.  Larry, the middle one snuggles up next to Moe.  Shep is just there…kinda always looking somewhere else.  I think he’s challenged.

Part of the rubble crew was cleaning up a corner of the compound the other day.  It was full of skids, rubble and misc. block.  I loaded a skid of materials and moved it across the base.  When I got back I noticed a rather large splotch on the concrete wall that surrounds the base.  Mono encouraged me to take a closer look.  It was a very large tarantula.  Of course, it was a splotch on the wall because it got the bad end of a smackin’ from a rather large shovel.  I suppose it would have measured out around eight inches judging from the length of the pencil sized legs.  Did I mention that it was a rather large splotch? 

That very evening we saw junior.  It must have been related because it was hunting for us during dinner.  Someone noticed him under one of the picnic tables in the dining hall.  He was a little smaller; maybe three inches across.  John, the base manager, showed him mercy.  He put a cup over him, slid some paper underneath; flipped him over and carried him outside.  I could hear the little guy threatening us from inside the cup; his little saber rattling in the round acoustical setting.  I shoulda stepped on him.

There are these little ants down here that I like to call screamers.  They are about the size of a comma, in fact, this comma here (,).  The one in parenthesis; no, not the other two … the one in parenthesis.  Anyway, these little guys travel one mph short of the speed of light; that’s the only reason we can even see them.  And they never stop.  They turn at right angles, not forty fives or twenty twos, just rights….all while not slowing down.  I wonder if they have little red stops signs in their lives?

I’ve been told that there are a lot of geckos.  I guess the only way I can tell them from the chameleons is that they seem to have this airbag under their chin that inflates when they belch.  I suppose they may also inflate just for the heck of it, but I am positive that whenever I hear a belch at the dinner table it is one of them.  Wonder if they flew in on Quantas Air?

I’ve also seen an assortment of plain jane ants, beetles and the sort.  Probably the coolest beetle I saw was a dead one being carried along the bathroom floor by an entourage of ants.  Must have been a few hundred of them.  It was similar to a crowd of people carrying a house.  Later that day I noticed a scrunched up beetle across the bathroom attempting to be stuffed down a hole the size of a large period.  I don’t think he fit; but since he is no longer there I cannot say for certain.

My companion in the shower this evening was a big green Katydid; something real similar to a huge grasshopper.  He didn’t seem to mind me stepping around him as I got in the shower, and didn’t seem bothered I the least as I got out.  For a three inch grasshopper, he seemed awfully content there on the shower floor.  I wonder if he was mesmerized by the screamers? 

Extracurricular Activities

Extracurricular Activities

I was wondering what base personnel do after hours for stuff to do.  So, over the past four weeks I’ve been watching and asking.

On Sundays there is ample opportunity to attend church somewhere.  Robert goes to one in Leogane.  He is fortunate as he has an interpreter that attends the same church and translates for him.  Paul and a few others go across the road out from of the base and up the steep hill to Brother Bill’s church.  He works on base here and has a little assembly of forty or so that attend.  The service lasts from seven in the morning until one in the afternoon.  Paul is usually gone from nine until 11:30 or so.  It is all in Creole, the songs, the reading, the sermon, the fellowship.  So, as Paul says, it is a good time to read his bible and enjoy seeing people.

The number of ex-pats on base has increased over the past few weeks.  We’ll be adding another twenty or so by weeks end; so our little community is growing.  Most are coming from the base up north that is closing by the end of the year.  Many of those have been in Haiti for many, many months; if not up to two years.  They are seasoned and have their comfort circle of friends that they hang with.  A number of younger adults have also come in.  They have energy and youth that they bring to the base that brings laughs and fellowship at all hours.  Tonight, after dinner, they got together in the dining hall and had some music, haircuts, computer talk and stuff that the kids that age do.  I dropped in briefly to fill my water bottle but decided to turn in early as it was a busy day.

It wasn’t too busy, though, to do twenty minutes of yoga with Lisa, Jordan, and, later on, Blaine.  Lisa talked me in to trying it at least once at dinner the other night.  I told her my daughter had been trying to get me to do it so she jumped all over that to convince to do so. They laughed as I complained about the impossible positions I was suppose to do.  But overall, it was … different; it did help to stretch out some muscle and joints that were being cranky.  I may try it again tomorrow, I’ll see how tired I am.

Some of the men my age got together Friday evening for an episode of ‘Band of Brothers’.  We watched it in the lounge tent on the big screen TV.  I enjoyed it but it left kind of a downer to go to bed with.  I probably won’t watch any more of those while here.

Sunday night there was a baptism on the beach; right at sunset.  A young man whose parents are spearheading the Lamb Center (orphanage under construction) was dunked by Pastor Ev in front of the base.  The sun was just setting; the sky was scattered with deep reds and oranges and the crescent moon in the dark blue heavens was accentuated by the evening star of Venus or Jupiter; whichever is out this time of year.  It was quite a special setting for the young man.

So, tonight, I’m doing what I usually do.  It is a little after eight; I’m writing my thoughts for the day and thinking of my family.  I’ll check my websites and skype before I go to bed in another hour and will do a little reading in a book by Franklin Graham that Robert loaned me.  I’m enjoying the cool AC and the quiet of the room; it gives time to be introspective and rethink my experiences of the day and week.  In the meantime I continue to draw on God’s presence to try an understand my overall purpose here; and to enjoy the new friends I’ve met.

Expansion Project

Expansion Project

There have been some issues regarding the rubble removal program; it has more to do with politics in the country rather than the need for it.  At any rate, the rubble crew has been available to help with the expansion project ‘across the wall’ from base camp.

The expansion project involves constructing 11 buildings to house future relocated staff.  The project includes building sanitation systems, water systems and the



A couple of buildings underway



Septic tank

buildings themselves.  We aren’t really part of the program, per sey, but do help out with the dirt moving part and work closely with supplying the materials when needed where needed.

Much of my day activity involves stockpiling resources and relocating materials.  The little skidsteer with forks works well for that. 





CAT skidsteer used with forks



I use it for moving skids of materials from base to the project, moving skids of concrete block into place and rough grading and moving sand, gravel and stone to where it is needed.  It’s a handy little tool and makes short order of mini projects.





Piles of concrete block



I also use the front end loader for moving heavier stuff, like cement mixers to where they need to be.  It is also used for moving larger amounts of stone and sand to the mixers for making concrete for the masonry and floors. 

Francois uses the excavator to construct the pads for the buildings. 



Materials rubble crew hauled in

 I bring him creek stone from the nearby river channel and he spreads it out in approximately 30 x 40 foot pads. I also move rock and sand to the masons from piles our trucks have brought in. 



Finished pad ready for forming



There will be eleven in all.  The national laborers fine rake and  level the pad in preparation for the forming crew to come in and lay their concrete forms, rebar, wire mesh and plumbing.



Lotsa more block



We’ve also constructed a mound style sewage field next to the new offices on base and will be starting on another one on Monday for the expansion buildings.  One additional small one was constructed for the new showers for the nationals.





Raised leach field for offices



All in all the project seems to be moving along fairly well.  Four pads are laid, three of those are poured, and the other two have block started. 







More block



We will start the other seven as materials are used up and room is made.  The project completion is slated for the end of the year.  It will tough to keep that date as we only started it a couple of weeks ago when it was supposed to have started in July.  But we’ll see.



Getting to Know You

Getting to Know You

I was curious.  What background did some of these ex-pats, people who came from the States, have and what was kind of feelings did they have for Haiti.

Saturday was a lazy day of reading, catching a cat nap and wandering down to the kitchen for some lunch.  Later in the afternoon I walked through the expansion project to overview their progress.  Nat was also meandering through the project with his phone doing some intermittent texting. He seemed massively bored and, eventually, we struck up a conversation. 

Nat is single and in his early thirties.  He is an architect by trade and came from LA.  He loves to design buildings but was tiring of the exhausting work and deadlines that the firm he worked for placed him in under.  I think they call it burnout.  An opportunity came along last year for him to come to Haiti and volunteer for some work with SP.  He took it and was here for a couple of weeks working with the team in providing temporary shelters and housing. Nat was overwhelmed, of sorts, by the living conditions of the Haitians, but he loved the work; it changed the way he thought; so, upon returning to the States, he asked HR to keep him in mind if something longer term popped up. 

A few months later HR called and suggested a staff position in managing the Lamb Center, an orphanage being constructed with SP help in Leogane.  After prayer and thought he accepted and relocated to Haiti for a year to design the building and manage the project.  “Yes, there are challenges,” he told me.  “But there is no place I’d rather be right now in my life.” 

After discussing some of those challenges I’ve decided that the mission field is not only a place to give of oneself to the project at hand, but also provides a great opportunity to grow into the image of Christ; one of our goals in our Christian walk.  Reaffirming Gods voice in coming to Haiti, determining who’s the boss, learning the skills of patience, and moving on in ones’ designated role contributes heavily to the peace one can find in being here.  I’ve seen that progression of God’s reaffirmation in many of the members here that helps them cope with inner problems knowing that God is growing them from the inside out.

Lisa has been here a month.  She is also , single and a professional.  She is working on the clean water, well drilling program.

Haitians know how to poke a hole in the ground to get water.  But they don’t know how to make that water clean.  Ground water can be found quite shallow here; 5 feet or so.  But the shallow water is contaminated and does not make a healthy water source.  So Lisa is trying to educate the Haitian well drillers with the need to drill deeper into the aquifers for better quality water; 150 to 250 feet deeper. 

Along with deeper wells comes the need for proper drilling techniques.  Haitians use river water for the drilling mud which lubricates the drilling bit.  Unfortunately, this also contaminates the aquifer they are drilling to.  Ungrouted casings let surface water down the well which also corrupts the water.  Lisa says,
“It takes time to educate the drillers with new ideas and reasons for not doing certain things that they’ve done all their lives.”  Along with educating, she has to arrange contracts with the Haitian government and drillers to bring the new wells online.  “It takes a lot of time,” she adds.  “I just finished a contract that has to be reviewed by 10 officials before I can even start drilling my first well.”  She will also keep drilling records for each well punched.  As an environmental geologist, she knows the importance of keeping detailed records of the rock strata and contents as each well is drilled.

Lisa has been here only a month but is moving along with the program and is excited about bringing clean water to the people of Haiti.  I think she also suffered from corporate burnout from her prior job in North Carolina.

I find many single, younger people in this type of work.  It gives a respite from the fast paced busy, make money lifestyle in the States and provides an opportunity to feel a part of something worthwhile.  I wonder what their perception might be when their time in Haiti is over; where will they go, how will they find meaningful work and how they will feel about their futures?

Thanksgiving Day

Thanksgiving Day

The day started at the usual time at the usual place with the usual temperature; hot.  First thing on the agenda was to let the Haitian mechanic know that the alternator belt on the skidsteer loader was broken.  I helped him take off the safety covers and we finally found a stray belt that worked in one of the storage containers.  That was a blessing since it takes weeks to get anything ordered in from the States.

From there I went across the wall (where the building project is going on) and moved some concrete block around and placed a number of bucket loads of gravel and sand for the masons.  Then I moved up the creek and started excavating out the channel in order to obtain some more fill material for the building pads and also to redirect the creek to retard the erosion along the banks when it rains.  With the creek bed material I started another pad and then graded it out with the skidsteer.  After lunch I removed another section of wall by the office buildings, cleaned it up, moved some more materials and then worked some more on the pad.  It was quite hot and I was thankful for the AC in the loader.  I had it on MAX while I was hauling creek rock.  It felt good and dried up the sweat, at least for the time being. 

It was a long day and I broke off a little early because of the heat.  My joints hurt most of the time now (apparently they don’t remember about lifting, climbing and shoveling), but as long as I stay busy it doesn’t bother me too much.  I feel it most in the mornings and evenings after dinner when I wind down.  I’m glad for the AC in the tents as it provides a coveted respite.  Even though there is no hot water, if I catch a shower before the sun sets, the cool water feels really good and helps cool me down. 

This evening I helped Francois move another concrete mixer across the wall with the loader.  When we returned we noticed a van packed with people leaving the base for some unknown destination.  At dinner I discovered that a bunch of people were invited to the Lamb Center for Thanksgiving dinner.  We weren’t told about it so we had our usual overdone meat for dinner along with some mashed potatoes, cooked potatoes and cool aide.  The dining room totaled out with six men from the construction team.  We chatted for a little bit and pondered the evening and then went our separate ways, most likely to an early bed as the day was long and tiring. 

Tomorrow will undoubtedly be more of the same. But such is the work that the Lord puts before us.  It is simply something that has to be done and since I know He has placed me here, and I know that He is the Boss, then I am content to look on this day as any other.

Inwardly, I miss my family and the importance of this holiday as a time spent with them in feast and fun, but mostly, a time of appreciation discovering that each of them have a positive influence on my daily life. 

I thank my God for my family and friends; immediate and distant.  They are a blessing from above and are a source of joy and happiness to me.

Happy Thanksgiving to you.

Rubble Removal

Rubble Removal

I started out the day moving material to the block layers like sand and gravel, cement, mixers and block.  The loader worked great moving the large volume stuff and the skidsteer made short order of the block and small stuff that had to be moved in between the trees and buildings.  Robert, Francois and most of the crew moved down the beach about a quarter mile to start taking down a couple of houses that were wrecked in the earthquake.  When I got caught up with my chores, I moved the loader down to the site with Andre to watch.

Both houses were located on about an acre of land with many, many trees.  It made it difficult for Francois to locate the excavator into position to start on the first structure.  It was a house that ‘pancaked’ down when the earth shook.  These homes are all concrete block with concrete floors and roofs; sometimes 15 inches thick on top.  I don’t know why; they just are.  When the earth shook, this house didn’t have any supporting interior walls so the shaking ground moved the walls right out from under the roof; hence the pancaking of the house; in other words, the roof fell straight down to the ground taking everything with it.  It was hard to imagine a house underneath the huge concrete slab that had been the roof.  It was only two feet or so off the ground level.

Francois slowly started chipping away at the rubble pile.  Lots of rebar made it slow going at first as it needed to be separated from the columns and roof.  After he was able to make a rubble ramp and climb onto the top of the pile it went a little quicker as he could then pull the concrete sections up to him where they would snap and crumble.

As Francois worked on the first structure I took a walk around the second… it was still standing.  Large cracks sheared the walls from the roof to deep down the foundation.  Mortar covering the walls had chipped and peeled away in many places exposing the rebar and blocks.  The biggest problem with construction in Haiti is that the Haitians tend to use inferior materials along with overstretching the expensive but essential part.  In this case they use cement as sparingly as possible.  The block is made from a sandy material that has ocean salt in it.  When making the block they don’t pressure squeeze it to a high enough pound per square inch rating.  All these issues produce a concrete block that is heavy, but soft.  The mortar used also has many of these same components; overstretching the mortar with coarse and contaminated sand.  Consequently, when pillars, floors, walls and roofs are poured the salt in the concrete immediately starts to corrode the rebar.  Over time it eats away at this critical support until there is nothing but rust holding the concrete together.  Add a quick shake and it all comes tumbling down.

I noticed all these traits in the house as I walked around it.  Underneath the stucco like mortar I scraped away the material between the blocks with my fingernail.  Some pillars had cracked and enough material fallen away so I could see what was suppose to be rebar; in this case it had corroded away to the thickness of a pencil lead.  Interior walls cracked exposing block laid on its side instead of the other way which is how it provides support.  I could understand why the structure cracked as bad as it did.  The only reason it didn’t pancake was because it had interior walls that ran in the direction of the seismic waves; that added enough support to keep the house up.

Francois loaded up two of our trucks with rubble and two of the crew took it quite a ways away to a recycle center that had started up after the new president got his act together.  The state wants all the rubble taken to one location where it supposed to be separated from the trash and metal rebar, then crushed up for stone.  They should have more than one location for that but don’t as yet.

Mono got a call from Robert saying that they needed some stuff moved around again around noon so Andre and I headed back to base with the loader.  It was fun driving along the beach dodging the boats, nets, clothes drying and animals in the large loader. 

But as for today, I had my first close look at the earthquake destruction.  It was hard to imagine the power that could do so much damage in such a short time over such a large area. 

Teamwork

Teamwork

We had a busy day moving materials, building pads and constructing a small septic field for the new showers across base.  Dinner was strongly looked forward too, along with a quiet evening in the AC and the tent.  But as dinner finished up we cold hear the sound of a semi truck chugging up the driveway.  Ken, the big boss around here, said there was a truck coming in with 1100 concrete blocks on it.  So off we went to the expansion project over the fence to help out.

Everyone in sight brought skids up to the rear of the truck.  I jumped on the back and said, ‘let’s go!’  Within minutes people started crowding the back of the truck as three more men hopped into the back and started passing blocks down.  Haitian blocks aren’t constructed the best; the concrete they use is low in quality and sparse in the mix.  The blocks were heavy and soft; maybe 25 pounds each, and cracked easily. 

At first the progress seemed quite slow.  Within the first thirty blocks I smashed my finger and could also felt  my back starting to give out.  So I called one of the younger kids to take my place and I took a break. Francois suggested getting the skid loader to move some of the skids out of the way; so I did.

By the time I returned there were over fifty Haitians throwing blocks everywhere.  There was a system of sorts because none were damaged.  Apparently, Ken had called a house of Christians up the road and they came right down to help out.  I sat in the skidsteer and watched the action.  The back of the huge dumptruck was packed with men moving blocks at a feverish pace.  Concrete dust poured out of the back along with a mix of the diesel truck exhaust; it reflected in the intense generator driven lights overhead and looked like smoke from a bonfire.  As the blocks passed out the rear of the truck, willing hands from five or six lines of other men and women grabbed them and ‘bucket brigaded’  them to skids where another group stacked them in layers six high, thirty to a tier.  It seemed as though the pace never slowed; only got faster and faster. 

Finally a cheer from the truck resounded across the base.  The final block had left the truck.  The rest of the camp joined in the celebration with shaking of hands, clapping and laughter.  The workers milled around for an additional twenty minutes or so congratulating each other on a job well done.

It was fun being a short part of the project.  But it was more interesting watching the teamwork unfolding before my eyes.  Everyone had an excitement and expectation of the final block coming off the truck and pitched in with all their heart and effort to make it happen.  I think these Haitians have a desire to participate in work projects when the spirit of camaraderie is present; they can work as hard and fast as anyone.  They smile, laugh and seem to enjoy the final prize; being finished together.   I wonder what can harness that resource?

Timing

Timing

Any comedian will say that it isn’t necessarily the words of a joke that makes one laugh as much as it is the timing in which it is delivered.  Timing plays a crucial role not just in jokes, but also in finding Gods direction in a situation.

Saturday was an interesting day.  The rubble crew doesn’t always work on that day but with the expansion project going on across the wall we lend a hand on that day to help out.  Francois and I spent the first half of the day moving material around, filling in holes and grading.  We did all we could do by noon so I broke for lunch while Francois went for a ride in the mountains.  Lunch was typical, ham sandwich and some juice in the screened in dining area.  Afterwards I went to the tent to cool off.  I discovered my water bottle was empty so went back to the kitchen to fill it up.  Robert was in the dining hall talking with someone so I popped in to say ‘hey’.  I ended up sitting down for a while and got engaged in the conversation and ended up visiting with Robert for a couple of hours over our water. 

I was amazed how many similarities Robert and I had.  We both had small businesses that we had started and operated for a number of years; similar equipment, same kinds of jobs.  We had similar church experiences, family relationships and experiences.  Our reasons and motivations for coming to SP were the same; wanted to share our talents and abilities in an arena where we felt we could contribute.  It was almost spooky that God had two men from different ends of the country be so alike and end up at the same time in Haiti.  We shared many of the same questions and concerns about coming; had responses from family and friends that were virtually identical; had the same doubts and apprehension but still came anyway.  It was nice to have a kindred spirit of sorts.

But the timing on Saturday happened after our time together.  Last week when Paul and I went snorkeling I had taken a bar of soap and a razor that Michelle had bought me in my towel to shower with after the ocean dive.  When I got to the shower I saw that the soap and razor had fallen out of my towel somewhere on the base.  I back tracked and found the soap but did not find the razor.  I was somewhat saddened because it was a real cool vibrating razor that gave a clean, comfortable shave.  So, after Robert and I went our ways, I went back into the kitchen to refill my water bottle and saw Pastor Ev getting something to drink.  I never see him apart from the morning devotions, so I shook his hand and greeted him.  I noticed he had a scruffy chin, he is always clean shaven,  so I flicked his fuzz and joked that he better shave or he’ll start to look like me with my scruffy beard.  He laughed back and I added, you know I wouldn’t look like this but I lost my razor last week.  His eyes suddenly got big, stepped back and pointed at me and said, It’s yours!  I immediately fired back, you found my razor!  He broke out laughing and said, I did.  I found it last week and have been asking everyone on base whose it was! 

Afterwards, it stunned me just how precise the timing was. I’ve been  wanting to chat with Robert for a couple of weeks now but there was never an opportunity.  He’s been here over a year now and has a fairly established routine.  That includes staying in the AC on weekends and only coming out for meals.  He should not have been in the dining hall an hour after lunchtime; he just was.  Our conversation included too many commonalities to be a coincidence.  We went our ways just in time to see Pastor Ev who is not at base on weekends nor ever in the kitchen.  And of course, he hadn’t shaved which triggered our banter in the first place.  All along a lost razor set the stage for a remarkable evidence of God’s control of our lives.

It’s nice to be finally be settled knowing that I’m in the right place at the right time for what purpose I know not.  But God does, and he’ll show me when He’s ready …. Because now my ear is tuned to hear when He does.

Beep Beep

Beep Beep

Part of the experience in taking a ride in Haiti is experiencing the horn.  As one might expect when there are five tiers of traffic on two lanes it can create somewhat of a congested air.  The horn is the Haitian remedy to reduce the tension of various modes of transport one inch from every fender, bumper and light affixed to your vehicle. 

There are many types of horns used in Haitian traffic to let you know just what is driving up your tailpipe.  The high shrill in E flat is usually the motorbike.  They generally carry one or two riders that weave in and out of those minute spaces between your right front fender and the left tail light that is hanging from the fuel truck in front and to the right of you.  They aren’t being rude, just letting you know that, from their perspective, they will fit.  If the horn is an octave higher is a high probability that the motorbike has four or, perhaps, five passengers including a dog.  The dog usually accounts for the higher octave

More often than the E flat is the deep resonance bass of the truck horn. The lower the note, the larger the vehicle.  That big fuel tanker with the hanging rear tail light and motorbike mirror on the mud flap has the frequency of an electric cello two notes below the bottom key on the piano.  Its volume, though, is that of an ocean liner slicing through thick fog.  When it has maximum resonance from the peak of the  Doppler effect, it is best to move over and let him by because, again generally speaking, they don’t have very good brakes in proportion to their speed.

The anemic beep like a Toyota horn is usually …. A Toyota.  Mass transit down here is done by an assortment of vehicles called Tap Taps.  In one case they are extended Toyota trucks from the seventies that have seats in the truck bed with a covering of tin for weather protection.  I’ve seen around 12 or more people crammed in the back of these things.  When you want on you wave it down.  When you want off you tap tap the side and the driver pulls off.  You hand him 40 Gord, about a buck, and he’s off and running again.  Their colorful trucks weave in and out of traffic like a drunken sailor.  They honk to start, honk to stop, honk to turn, honk to pass, honk to be passed.  I think the brake is wired to the horn but I’ve haven’t verified this as of this writing.

The Haitians are quite at peace with their horns.  While riding back from Port au Prince last week at sunset it was quite peaceful to be lulled to a quick nap by the assortment of horn blasts, perfectly tuned pitches and rising and lowering volumes … like listening to the Moonlight Sonata.

Haitians also use the horns as notices that they are coming.  On less traveled roads they honk simply to say hello, whether or not they know you is irrelevant.  When they pass at 100 kph it is nice to know who it was that passed you, whether or not you knew them is irrelevant.  They especially like to sound the tooter going around bends.  Of course you can see them coming but they want you to know that they are coming so they honk … I’ve decided this is for your benefit so you can wave as they honk again going by.  As mentioned, knowing who it is, is irrelevant.  They are also very polite to honk as they tailgate you so you know not to brake too hard so as to have them crinkle your bumper.  As we learned, body work is quite cheap here, but they don’t want the inconvenience of having to go to the shop. 

I’ve also found that the louder the horn, the more determined the driver is to be in front of you.  A friendly pass on the right or left, it really doesn’t matter which side to them, will include the steady laying on of horns to facilitate a safe passage, or you to move over, and also does dual purpose to let the motorbike without the side mirror coming the other way move onto the shoulder, which, by the way is not there, because there are too many trees, bushes, houses or donkeys in the way.  But it all works out quite well as the motorbikes are usually quite maneuverable and can dodge most obstacles. 

So, as a rule of thumb, the louder, deeper and longer a horn is the more wise it is to move over, left or right whichever the case may be, or wherever an opening is, and let the vehicle by.  After all, being a courteous driver is important in mission work.

I have, though, found one exception the rule of horns.  I call it the dozer corollary.  The rubble team relocated the Dozer to a jobsite the other week.  With a 13 foot blade it tends to hang out over the edges of the trailer.  Although the horn rule still seems to apply, it does have its limitations when there is no road to move over on or no way to back up, which the loaded truck tends to do.  So, in this case, the tractor truck hauling an oversized load down the road at a fairly quick clip tends to trump the horn rule regardless of the pitch, octave or volume.  Not always, but usually.

I did find one exception to this corollary.  As we unloaded the D-6 dozer on site I noticed another tractor truck approaching from the opposite side.  It has an enormous low boy trailer with a CAT D-9 on it.  This dozer made ours look pretty puny.  I have to say he didn’t slow down and he didn’t honk.  He owned the road and he knew.  I watched motorcycles head for the ditches, tap taps careened into anything resembling a turnoff, busses and trucks hugged the non-existent shoulders and made room where there was no room, donkeys ran for cover and walkers stepped aside as the behemoth roared down the road in a flurry of tree limbs, electric lines and festival banners that had been hung too low.  It was a beautiful sight.  The ace of trump played in a hand of pinochle. The final touchdown in a game.   The real king of the road.  And we were witness to it. 

Who's da Boss?

Who's da Boss?

It’s always important to know who the boss is.  Travis is mine.  He’s 28 and going home in January.  He is grooming Robert to take over his slot, so after he leaves Robert will become my boss.  Although, I suppose in the ‘pecking’ order, he already is.

Ken is the big boss.  He is in charge of everything that goes on in the construction field down here.  He is in his mid sixties and is undertaking the expansion project across the wall. So when Ken needs something it is best to help out.

Neil is in charge of the sanitary waste projects for the new extension.  Since they rely on our team for the excavation projects with the septic, building pads and stuff he kinda has some input into what we do with the equipment.  Travis has been working with Neil in getting a lot of stuff done over there, although they don’t always communicate real well….neither does Robert … or Ken for that matter.

So the question has arisen, ‘who's da boss?’  It is sometimes humorous to get different directions from different people.  Travis wanted me to fill in a low area where the housing projects are going before they were put in.  Neil wanted to leave the area open so water would flow in that direction for drainage under the wall.  I find that a compromise works fairly well.  Fill the hole in part way with a sloping grade, we’ll fill in the rest after Neil leaves.  I’ll have to update you later on how that works out.

Yesterday and today I moved a lot of building materials from the landing zone to the staging area.  Back and forth with the bobcat with fork attachment.  Funny how concrete blocks need to be taken over to the building site, o, but not those blocks, the other ones … but since they’re here just leave them.  Funny how they still get used before the others manage to arrive on site. 

I doesn’t really matter to me where stuff goes or who needs what, when.  As long as I stay busy it seems like all things work for the team; and that’s ok.

I did have one difficulty that I had to work through.  I was concerned that I wasn’t providing the quality of workmanship that was expected of me.  I knew I would have a learning curve on the equipment when I came down here.  I’ve picked up the basics relatively fast but found that I really needed fine skills in order to deliver what the need was.  Those skills would come only after many months of learning, trial and error; like an education.  Some of the contributions I had made doing tasks had to be redone by Travis or Robert.  I felt bad because my fine skill set was inadequate and they had to take the time to clean up my mess.  I was discouraged and disappointed that I couldn’t deliver.  I even felt that I was pulled off the larger equipment so someone else could do the job quicker and more effective.  It’s funny how the mind plays tricks when we are discouraged.

Michelle and I talked about how I felt.  She suggested I talk to Travis and try to understand how to develop my skills, how to understand his directions a little clearer and how to perform my tasks more effectively.  In addition, one suggestion seemed to rise to the surface.  Rest in where you are.

 In retrospect and in reality, I firmly believe that God is the one who opened the doors for me to go Haiti to work for SP.  I prayed about it, I asked God to open the doors if it was in his interests.  I didn’t place fleeces out for direction, but I saw numerous road signs that were simply to ‘in your face’ to be coincidence. Mom’s passing a few months earlier freed me up for out of town experiences.  Following her footsteps in supporting missions projects; not just in being someplace, but in being someplace that complements my particular skills and talents.  Quotes from great men of times past came unexpectedly across my path at critical junctures in my decision making process; in short, God presented me with an opportunity that was something I could do; and more than just that, he was opening the doors for me to do it.  And because I stepped out in faith believing that, then I could also rest in faith that God would make me fit in the perfect place for his perfect use.  The bottom line, God is the boss.  He is the one I have to please.  He placed me here and everything I do with Him in mind and to the best of my ability will be good enough. 

“There comes a time in every man’s life when, figuratively speaking, he is tapped on the shoulder and presented with an opportunity that is tailor made to his natural talents and desires.  It is a sad day for that man if he finds himself unprepared to undertake the task given to him.”   ------------------------Winston Churchill

A Merry Heart....

A Merry Heart

The universality of humor is really quite amazing.  I see people of a different language, a strange culture, and a completely opposite lifestyle to what I am accustomed going through a really rough life; and through it all there seems to be a deep desire to have fun.  It would seem that the environment is almost irrelevant to how God made His people; they are surprisingly the same.

Andre is an interesting character.  He is probably in his early forties, not well educated but a hard worker.  Even though Andre does not speak English he is quick to laugh.  Now I’m not talking a courteous laugh like someone chiming in to a funny comment or joke to be polite, but I mean a double over belly laugh that comes from the heart.  I think Proverbs calls it a merry heart, and Andre seems to have that.  Here in Haiti we tend to great one another with a fist butt and a smile.  I usually try to tell Andre, Bonjour, and he instantly breaks into a wide smile and says it right back with a giggle that seems like something from a Charlie Chaplain movie….the speaking kind.  Of course, Andre is like others.  He sometimes gets angry when someone won’t listen to him and can respond with a flurry of Creole epithets I’m sure would make a sailor blush if one could understand what he was saying.  But deep down I think Andre is a man with a good heart.

Kiki is more stoic than Andre.  I finally found a way to make him laugh, too.  It seems he enjoys the absurd.  As the driver for my jaunt to Port au Prince last week he and I had a fun discussion via our interpreter, Jean.  He was relaying how he heard a message one time where the pastor used a funny story about Americans.  When greeted they always seem to respond to the question, “how are you?” with the standard response of ‘fine’.  He said it was funny to him that they say that whether they are having a good day or a bad day, it is always, ‘fine’.  So I made it our standard greeting with Kiki and Jean that whenever we see each other we ask ‘how are you doing?’ … and with a hearty laugh he says, ‘fine’, just fine!

Mono, his real name is Manual, is quiet.  His English is quite good, but thick with an accent.  He always calls me ‘Sir’, and is quite polite with his answers.  Mono doesn’t smile a whole lot, perhaps because he is soft spoken.  He was my interpreter the first few days when I was working in the river bed.  We chatted quite a bit and developed an informal friendship.  Mono also likes to laugh at how ridiculous some things can be.  When in the river bed a couple of weeks ago he and I were waiting for the dump trucks to return from delivering a load.  A quarter mile upstream some Haitians were loading a triaxle dump truck by hand and had it pulled up to the river bank to make it easier.  As we watched he told me that they were going to get stuck.  I agreed.  Thirty minutes later as I was loading a truck Mono flagged me down and with a smile on his face pointed and laughed upstream at the truck.  Yes, it was stuck.  A few minutes later another loader pushed them out but Mono thought that was funny.  Now we poke fun at each other when a stupid situation arises; the kind we can’t do anything about but just enjoy ribbing each other over.

Pastor Ev is a proper man for his role.  He dresses well, always smiles and reaches out for a hand shake or fist butt.  He is also quiet and listens.  Today we moved the safe from the tent to the new offices that Bob and Paul have been so diligently been working on.  The safe was heavy and was a tight fit into the little closet they built.  Pastor Ev and two other Haitians managed to squeeze into that tiny doorway as they vainly tried to push the safe to the back of the closet.  Finally, in desperation, Pastor Ev sat on the floor in his nice clothes, and pushed with his feet on the safe.  With the other two pushing it slipped in.  He had a smile on his face, I reached for his hand to pull him up and almost fell over because I was off balance.  He laughed, I laughed, I yelled, ‘fat man down’, and it just cascaded after that.  He made a difficult task into something humorous.

I think the outward appearances that we see in people hides the possibility that all men want to have a good time.  A frowning face, a stoic look, a proper stance are just outward appearances that the Haitians give up front.  But once past the veneer I believe these people are as real, funny, and full of life as much as any others I have run across.