We took off for Haiti while I was still reeling from my trip to India, where I saw and smelled extreme poverty for the first time with my own eyes. This trip was different.  I was going with friends, we would be staying in a home, not a hotel, and the agenda would be more simple (at least as far as I understood).  We were going to paint a school and listen to the people of Marfranc, a small village in rural western Haiti.  I was totally up for an adventure with this crew, excited, not nervous at all. With the images of extreme poverty from the streets of Kolkata fresh in my mind, I step out of the airport in Port Au Prince and was met by a country filled with desperation, tragedy, hope and love. Poverty looks similar regardless of geography. Those on the edge of poverty live close the earth, cook food on wood fires, make homes out of things we throw away and bath in public. Haiti's unemployment is 85% (numbers vary some).  We saw that most people there operate in the "offline" economy, they barter, trade and sell goods to their local market.

I learned that despite the circumstances of there lives the beautiful people of rural Haiti raise families, laugh, worship, and experience great joy.  They are not to be pitied. They are our friends. The main purpose for my presence on this trip was to look at ways to create various business enterprises that would allow local Haitians to generate income and build their communities.  I came away with several ideas, but I learned more than I taught.  Many have come before and dumped loads of money into all sorts of ventures, and the road is littered with their exit visas, never to return. It's not an easy place to build business.  We have more to learn and work to do. The foundation is being laid and our path will become more clear as we continue to listen.

It was hot, really hot. We were lucky that on most days rain showers fell and gave us a reprieve from the heat in the evening. In the mornings we would go and paint the school.  Children whose families cannot afford to send them can get one of the "sponsored" spots at the school. It costs $29 dollars a month to send a child in Marfranc to this school.  Several children helped us paint. I spoke very, very little Kreyol.  The children spoke more English. We were able to talk a little bit. Mostly we sang songs that the other recognized. Joline and Steve, our missionary hosts in Marfranc, have dedicated their lives to this community.  We did what they said and helped where we could. I listened a lot, when not making really bad jokes, to the people we encountered.

Our first evening in Haiti I walked out of the back yard at the guest house run by Sister Mary.  After the earthquake, a tent city popped up in Sister Mary's back yard. Allowing it to remain was the only humane thing to do as those in Port Au Prince didn't want to return to their homes. The capital experienced 50 aftershocks over a two-month period after the massive 7.2 quake that ripped the city apart.  In this particular tent village, children were playing soccer and others were preparing dinner. The moment I stepped into this permanently temporary community a small child gently grabbed my cheeks and welcomed me as I knelt down to greet him.  My heart melted. I'm glad it did. With everything else I saw, it might have broke if it hadn't.  To see and share joy with the children throughout this trip was a profound and life-changing experience.