Like any country, Haiti has good people and bad people; much like America and every other country on earth. At various times in your life you meet someone who simply brings you back to reality, if only for a short time. As human beings, most of us are prideful, spoiled, and selfish at times. This is especially true of Americans because we are accustomed to a particular lifestyle. Don't misunderstand me. Unlike some of our politicians, I do not believe that we are an arrogant people though I believe all of us are arrogant at times.
I myself am definitely spoiled. I have never been wealthy and most likely never will be. But I have still enjoyed a level of comfort that many people around the world will never experience. I have never truly been hungry, when I couldn't find something to eat, either in the refrigerator or in town. I have never truly been poor. I may not have everything I desire but I have a decent home, furniture, satellite television, internet, vehicles, and a motorcycle. Maybe I don't live in a 5 bedroom mansion. Maybe I don't have brand new furniture. Maybe I don't have a brand new car or a $30,000 Harley Davidson. Nonetheless, I should be down on my knees each and every day thanking God for what I do have.
I spent 12 months in Iraq between June 2006 and July 2007. This of course was during the height of the sectarian violence and in one of the most dangerous cities on earth, Baghdad. I witnessed death on so many fronts. I saw firsthand, the suffering caused by war and poverty. I saw many people killed because of their beliefs, perhaps something as simple as being a Sunni instead of a Shiite. Or maybe they were a victim of collateral damage caused by our own artillery. Regardless, that alone should have humbled me. But, if I am being honest, it only humbled me for a while.
Not long after returning home from Iraq, I allowed myself to forget about the things I saw there. I tucked those memories into a vault deep in my mind, hoping to never recall them again. And sadly, I was successful, until August of 2011 when I accepted a position as an International Police Officer in Haiti, the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.
Haiti is not a war zone, though it often resembles one. It is a violent country, but nothing like Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Darfur or any number of other African countries rife with civil war, war lords fighting over the spoils. Haiti is simply a country without a leader. They have been "raped" by their leaders for the last hundred years. The people have suffered greatly.
When I first arrived here in August I was excited. I was excited about a new adventure in a foreign land. It didn't take long for that excitement to change to despair, dread and even depression. The mission was not at all what I expected. Did I expect too much? Maybe so. What I saw was a country rife with poverty, filth, a lack of basic necessities. A country with a 75% unemployment rate. A country with very little social services. A country with a life expectancy of 50 years and an infant mortality rate out of this world. A country rife with HIV and AIDS, Syphilis, Cholera, Typhoid and every other disease known to mankind. A country only 710 miles from United States soil. How then can this country be in such bad shape? I have no good answer for that.
I often find myself not being thankful for what I have, but sinking in self pity. Feeling sorry for myself because I gave up a good job to come here. Feeling sorry myself because I miss my family. Feeling sorry for myself because I can't ride my motorcycle, or run to McDonald's. Feeling sorry for myself because of what it is costing me to live here. It is disgusting, disgusting that I would, even for a moment, feel sorry for myself, knowing what I know about the Haitian people.
For any of you who follow me on Facebook, or have read my previous blogs, you know about Ken Ken, Sebastian, Crystal and many of the other kids I have met during this journey. Each one of those kids has broken my heart time and time again. None more than Ken Ken. He is a 10 month old little boy who is suffering from AIDS, Tuberculosis, and malnutrition. I think about him several times, each day, seven days per week. And then I think of my own children, all of whom are healthy and I hope happy. I know that this is only by the grace of God. And I realize, at least most of the time, that something bad can happen at any given time.
I have shared with you many stories and photos about and of Ken Ken. I feel guilty about this because the Bible tells us, and I'm paraphrasing, not to broadcast our efforts, to do things for people in a way that no one even realizes we've done something. Do I share those stories and photos for self-gratification? I certainly hope not. I feel that it is important for people to see what I see, to experience things through my eyes and my feelings. If I have erred, I pray for God's forgiveness.
I try to do something each and everyday that glorifies the name of God. Maybe it's buying food for a hungry child. Maybe it's spending time with Michee, a 20 year-old boy I met at my camp. Maybe it's simply saying a prayer for my friends, or my co-workers. Whatever the case may be, I know it's not enough. My actions pale in comparison to the sacrifices of Michelle Roberts, her husband Greg, Chris Keylon and the staff from Chadasha Foundation,, www.chadasha.org. It pales in comparison to Julie Columbino, Sandra Fernandez and the gang from Rebuild Globally www.RebuildGlobally.org. It pales in comparison to the sacrifices of the staff at The Apparent Project, www.apparentproject.org. Each of these people has given up their comfortable lives in the States to serve God and the people of Haiti.
I have been praying recently for God to lead me back to a man I first saw about four weeks ago. One day, on our way to work, I saw a man on the side of the road. He appeared to be paralyzed, or at the very least suffering from some type of debilitating disease. He was scooting along on his bottom side only using his hands. He was filthy. I remember immediately feeling a sense of dread and heartbreak. I vowed from that moment that I would do something to help him.
I spent the next three weeks looking for this guy. I spotted him on one occasion about a week later but had no translator. I finally spotted him today as we were headed back to Port-Au-Prince. I immediately pulled over to the side of the road, as did the rest of my team. We all got out of our vehicles. Two of my colleagues provided traffic control while the rest of us approached the man, who I found out was Robinson. Within just a few minutes, we were all pulling money from our pockets and giving it to Robinson. We were also able to determine that he was willing to accept a wheelchair. I have to admit that I was elated that God had answered my prayers. And, I was proud of my colleagues, not only for their help but also for their compassion. This sort of thing doesn't happen every day in this mission.
After leaving Robinson, I immediately called my reliable friend Michelle Roberts. Michelle agreed to provide me with a wheelchair, free of charge. And she will bring it to me in the next couple of days. We now know where Robinson lives and we will deliver the wheelchair to him, and train him in the proper operation. We are also going to buy a reflective triangle to place on the back of the wheelchair as well as some other type of reflective material. The road he travels on is extremely dangerous, as are most roads here in Haiti. While I have grown to love most of the Haitian people, their driving skills are suspect at best.
Well, until next time I hope that God blesses each and every one of you. Take care, stay safe and God Bless.
Robinson November 7, 2011
www.apparentproject.org
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