On Saturday March 9, 2013, at 8 a.m., the Haiti
mission team of 20 left the Wesley Foundation for Dallas, TX. After a six hour
drive in the car, we stopped for lunch at Wendy’s then went to the DFW airport.
We reached Miami about 9 p.m. then went to the Red Roof Inn to sleep for a few
hours. I finally hit the hay at 12:30 p.m. after getting settled in and making
my last phone calls for seven days to my mom and dad. I got a good little nap
in before we woke up at 4 a.m. and took the shuttle over to the airport. A
couple hours later, we were seated on the airplane, as the wheels left the
ground, destined for Port Au Prince, Haiti. During the plane ride, I marveled
at the beautiful puffy white clouds suspended below the plane that my God the
creator formed. As we got closer to Haiti, I gazed down at the sparkling aqua
and deep blue water along the sandy coastline, scattered with run-down houses
throughout the land and mountains in the background.
We
landed in Port Au Prince then the guys piled and strapped down our luggage on
top of the white school bus we would be traveling on to the Mole, St. Nicholas,
for a total of 11 hours. As the wheels of the bus went round and round, I
stared out the window observing the Haitian culture and people. The Haitians
went about their daily business, stopping to look at us “blancs” (white people-as some of them called us)
with their white eyes that stood out in contrast to their dark skin. Women
carried bowls of fruit and bags of goods on their heads; skinny dogs, goats,
and cows strolled along the side of the road; occasionally, there would be
people bathing in rivers. A small portion of the bus ride was paved road, some
was similar to a country dirt road, but the majority of the ride was through a
dried up river bed used as a road. It was literally the most wild bus ride I
have ever experienced. There was a point where I was genuinely scared the bus
was just going to tip over or get stuck in the mud. The bus broke down about
two hours away from the Mole at the bottom of a hill next to a house. It turned
out to be such a blessing to be stuck there for two hours in the slightly brisk
night. The Haitians bumped some reggae music as we danced on an upstairs deck
outside and stared up at the pitch black sky full of piercing white stars. It reminds me of an analogy one of my favorite preachers, Paul Washer, uses; he says when you see your sin and wickedness for what it is then you are able to see God's glory shining like bright stars against the darkness of the world. The pitch black background of the sky is us in all our evil nature, and the stars are God in all His perfection and holiness. (Now I will abruptly continue back to the story) Josh
and I two-stepped on the deck then starting dancing silly, and all the Haitian
kids laughed at us. The girls went to the bathroom in a bucket toward the back
of the house; while we were waiting, there were huge palm leaves hovering over
our heads. After the bus was fixed, we were back on the crazy, rocky road. At
about 11 p.m. we showed up to missionary’s house, Jody and Jose, where the
girls would be staying for the week. There was delicious Haitian spaghetti
waiting for us when we got there. It was so good, and the fact that we hadn’t
eaten a real meal in over 24 hours made it that much tastier. It is now 1 a.m.,
so after finishing this journal, I am going to sleep. Goodnight! I can’t wait
to scribe my adventures in Haiti throughout this week. Tomorrow my group will
be doing VBS in the village, and in the afternoon, Josh and I will be speaking
on the gospel at the teen conference.
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