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.

For the next few weeks, Refractions will be posting stories and pictures from the Journey Haiti team. Dave Brown gets the ball rolling. Read more in Dave's blog, The Agnostic Pentecostal.

Had zero web access while there, so I’m having to re-cap. Here’s an idea of some of the things I experienced on the first two days of my trip to Haiti, as we traveled to our final destination:

Day 1:

There was a distinct variety of people in the Miami airport gate for the flight to Port Au Prince. A couple church groups in matching t-shirts with logos like “Mission Haiti 2010.” I felt sorry for one of those groups, who looked very tired, lost, and overdressed, but at least they all matched. There also were some Mennonites. And there were a few men in Rotary Club golf shirts. Some people from a company that makes shelter boxes. Maybe a journalist or two. And of course our rag-tag group (no matching shirts allowed!). And then you had a lot of Haitians, whose faces were noticeably more drawn than all of ours.

Landing in Port Au Prince, we flew over lots of blue tarps, tent cities. Lots of walls without roofs. Also thousands of tiny tin-roofed shacks crammed against each other with rag-clothed humans wandering everywhere between. Burning trash. Broke-down bulldozers. UN trucks. After landing we were welcomed by humidity, heat, and a lot of sounds. We waited in customs and baggage lines and eventually made it out of the very sweaty airport an into sweaty streets, where mobs of people seeking any kind of work tried to get our attention, help carry bags, sell us cell phones, whatever.

Immediately, images of utter devastation punched me in the face and sank into my heart. “You wanted to see it?” the scene seemed to say. “Well, here it is. You asked for it. Welcome to Haiti mother-f-er.”

Crumbled buildings filled the foreground and the horizon. People bathing in street gutters. Re-bar sticking out everywhere. Ladies cooking their families’ meals in the micro-space between the street and their tent. A man re-bandaging his wound. Obviously malnourished people staring at our baggage-laden van. Diesel engines whirring, horns honking, motorcycles crowding every turn, people shouting. But also saw lots of smiles. Perfect white teeth lighting up smoggy streets. There was some unseen beauty, peace, and hope weaving itself between, under, and around the destruction.

Drove to Sister Mary’s, a sweet and spunky nun who runs a charity hostel. She had a little tent city within her compound. Hundreds of people living in sun-faded blue Lions Club-donated tents. One large tent converted into a school. Kids playing soccer. Laughing, goofing off.

Ate an amazing meal, had wonderful conversation with other visiting helpers, experienced beautiful prayer and a sense of connection with strangers, and then fell asleep sweating.

Day 2:

Headed to a smaller airport to fly from Port Au Prince to the little port town of Jeremie, on the more remote southern peninsula. Crammed into a tiny, old plane and waited a long time…dogs on the runway blocking landings and takeoffs. About to take off, we abruptly turned around and headed back to the plane parking lot. Hydraulic fluid was puddling out of our plane. Switched planes, dogs were shooed off the runway, and we flew. Marveled at the beauty of the island below, but also noticed major deforestation, erosion, and dead reefs. Landed on a dirt strip, exited the plane walking toward the little one-room airport, and noticed children and ladies casually walking across the “runway” to their homes in the jungle just on the other side, carrying water and fruit on their heads.

Then made a grueling 1 1/2-hour ride in the back of a little flatbed trailer towed behind a truck, winding down rocky, pot-holed dirt roads toward the village of Marfranc in the Grand Anse river valley. Got covered in dust and got a sore butt. Said “Bonjour” to a bunch of people all along the way, half-naked kids carrying water, old ladies carrying fruit. Young men carrying what looked like red diesel but was Kleren, the moonshine-like spirit distilled from sugar cane, used as the base for rum. People bathing and doing laundry in the river beside the road. Excited kids, most of whom rarely see white people, shouted “Blanc!” pointed at us and jumped up and down. So many half-naked kids, and some not wearing anything but a smile. The farther we got from Jeremie the more it began to look like remote Africa: Homes made from hand-hewn boards, corrugated tin, mud, rocks, rough concrete, thatched roofs of banana and palm leaves, dirt floors, absolutely zero power lines or phone lines, no power, no plumbing, no water except what the kids harvested from the river or an occasional hand pump. Each family has an average of about 6-8 people (often more) sharing a one-room home, which is usually sized about 20 feet by 15 feet by my estimation. But smiles everywhere and surprised stares following our little parade of white people.

Finally there: Turned off the main road, down a smaller, muddy road that briefly snaked between even smaller huts, set off behind banana trees, and came to the home of our hosts, the Moores, who have lived in Haiti for the past 15 years. Their home was built to serve as a hostel for work teams, so by comparison to all other homes in the area it was like a mansion, although it was the size of an average three-bedroom American suburban home. We pulled into the rock driveway, peeled our asses off the trailer, dusted off, and were greeted by the Moores, their local helpers, and Bouki, an incredibly excited chocolate Lab with an oral fixation.

After scarfing down a small meal, some of our team hiked into the center of the village of Marfranc. There they soon were offered a baby. “You like our baby? You want her? You can have her. Please take her.” They were in desperate need and wanted their baby to have a better life. This was our introduction to the realities of Haiti.

More to come, including pix and vids.

After a very rewarding week in Haiti, our mission team made it to Miami this afternoon and should arrive in Austin late tonight. In the coming weeks they will be sharing stories and photos in Refractions. Watch this space!

Here's the latest from the Haiti Team. They've spent the last two days helping paint one of the schools that New Life for Haiti built. They also spent a lot of time just walking through the village of Marfranc having conversations with the people there. Tonight they were cooking some Texas barbecue for the missionary couple hosting them, Steve and Joline Moore. Go team!

Late Tuesday night, we got word that the team has reached the mission house in Marfranc safely. They are tired, but happy to be there. Marfranc is their base for the week. They will be working on building a school there, as well as hiking up into the mountains nearby to scout locations for new schools.

Here are photos from last Sunday's service, when the Journey community blessed the mission team and their families.

Our team of Journeyers left Austin around 6 on Monday morning, and arrived safely in Port-au-Prince Monday afternoon. Updates will be posted here as the team send them. Watch this space!

Early this morning, Journey's mission team left for Haiti. While they do what they can to change the world there, we remember that we can all change the world -- wherever we are -- with love.

"Change the World" by Stefan Van Voorst

Patient and kind it does not envy
It is not proud and doesn’t boast
It’s never rude never self-seeking
Always protects always hopes

We could speak in the tongues of angels
Or move great mountains through great faith
Could fathom all mystery and all understanding
But have not love, nothing is gained

We believe love can change the world
It’s the only thing that has
It’s the only thing that will
The greatest of these is love that changed the world
You’re the only One who can
You’re the only One who will

Never looks back always trusting
Never gives up it perseveres
Rejoicing with truth and always forgiving
No record of wrongs it casts out fear 

We could speak in the tongues of angels
Or move great mountains through great faith
Could fathom all mystery and all understanding
But have not love, nothing is gained

We believe love can change the world
It’s the only thing that has
It’s the only thing that will
The greatest of these is love that changed the world
You’re the only One who can
You’re the only One who will

This summer many Journeyers are on the road; traveling for relaxation, for business, or to lend a hand where it is needed. Soon, a team of Journeyers will depart to Haiti to aid in the rebuilding. Our pastors Rick and Leslie have been on the road. My own family has been vacationing for two weeks, and many of you have already returned from summer travels.  

Perhaps better than most, Journeyers understand that we are all going somewhere even when we are standing still. Today, I have chosen a couple of quotations that I think sum up what I have learned from Journey about how to navigate, whether around the world or through my daily life.

"He who would travel happily, must travel light."

- Antoine de Saint-Expery

This song changed my life. Well, it changed the way I see the world and myself, and then I changed my life, but still, you know what I mean. When Rachel Loy performed at Journey one Sunday in 2006, I had no idea how much her words would affect me. I just thought, "Hey! This girl's rockin' her guitar. Cool." I didn't know that that this song would become a lens, refracting my attitude toward how I've lived for as long as I can remember, and generally making me a much happier person. Now the words "love the mess" have become my motto, my personal philosophy -- and the rallying cry of a recovering perfectionist. It is both a reminder to myself and plea to the universe. "Love the mess" reminds me that yes, the world is broken and life is complicated and things will not go according to plan, and frankly, everything is just a mess, but it's okay. And yes, I am imperfect, I am broken, I have made many mistakes and will make many more, and I too am a mess. But no matter how messy the world is or I am, God loves us still. I may be a mess, but God still loves me. God loves the mess. I do too.