Day 2

PICTURES TO FOLLOW SOON

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.haiti.

There are no words to describe it.

There are countless words to describe it.

.beautiful paradox.

Flying into Port-au-Prince was a culture shock. Even from the air, the industrialization of the powerful United States of America became but a distant memory....something from another time.

The bustling highways of Miami were replaced with sad examples of extreme deforestation. Skyscrapers were replaced with thousands of shacks with tin roofs that glittered metallic in the sun as the plane nosed in and landed.

Coming out of the plane, the heat was stifling -------------> Americans think Miami is hot = HAH! We pressed on through a crowd that made preteens at a Justin Beiber concert look tame. Passing through immigration with an equally fast passing, "Merci", myself, Colton, and Amber jumped into the kraal of baggage strewn about the almost warehouse-like floor to wrangle our luggage. Finding them all intact (proof that there is a God and he loves us) we walked out and onto a covered walkway straight into the most welcomed sight thus far - the embrace of Father Walin. Next we had to make the intense journey towards the car rental company to rent a large passenger truck where we could fit half of us and our luggage into while both other halves went with Father Walin in his tried and true green Toyota. Muscling our way through beyond crowded streets we continually were met by Haitians who were more than eager and willing to carry our luggage to wherever we need --- for a price. My first real world lesson in French = "No, merci!" x 10000.

Soon, somehow, we had transportation and we were on our way through more packed streets. Walin is to Haiti as Dale Earnhardt is to NASCAR. But unlike following the Intimidator, we actually (for the most part) kept up - dodging more seemingly "self-entitled" moped and motorcycle drivers and tap-taps than anyone could being to count. Soon we were out of the bustle of the city and on our way through the growing beauty of the country and onto Hinche where Walin's church, St. Andre's, and rectory are. The landscape was lush and countless green growth creeped upon all the earth. Bananas, coconuts, mangoes, plantains, pineapples, corn, tobacco, potatoes, peanuts .... the list could go on and on and on. One easily got lost in the beauty only to be shattered back into the Third World mindset rounding bends that revealed shacks, tent cities still not over the devastation of the Haitian earthquake, women and children riding on the backs of donkeys, men leading their goats to consume more grasses, shacks on stilts that hold food to prevent the vermin from infiltrating....this list could go on and on as well.

But again, somehow, we entered into the city of Hinche - an equivalent of the Queen City - but certainly different in most all aspects aside from population count. Vendors lined the streets; men, women and children stood outside looking at the obvious outsiders rolling into town in their blaring white Mitsubishi passenger truck; goats, chickens, donkeys, dogs, and even the occasional cat jumped out of the way as we rolled through; and we could being to imagine the force of heat that would hit us as we still sat in our safe and comfortable air conditioned box on wheels. Rolling through the gate of the church yard and seeing the Episcopal shield emblazoned upon the St. Andre's sign was as welcomed of a site to our eyes as an ice cold bottle of water.

The inside of the rectory was beautiful - if one is not careful, you can begin to think you would be back in America.....but only for a moment. And yet, in the midst of all the change, differences, stress, and uncertainty that comes with this country, it feels comfortably like home. After meeting the hosts and their beautiful children, we had an amazing late lunch prepared for us: goat with sauteed onions, fried plantains, rice, bottled water, Prestige beer. We ate until we could not eat anymore. After a quick tour of the city and stopping into not only this church but one of the most beautifully simplistic and large Catholic churches I have ever been too, we traipsed back home tired, hot, and still full from lunch. We soon found the beautiful deck that was about the rectory and until dark, took full advantage of the lounging opportunities of this serene portion of Father Walin's home.

Then came sleep. Never have I experienced such heat. Luckily, the power that had been non existent for most all of our first day here came back on .... and so did our fan. How often have we at home been overly thankful for not only a fan but also for one that oscillates? I am now the worlds most thankful person for both of these things thanks to Hinche, Haiti. Laying in bed and feeling the sweat pouring off of my body was an experience like none other.

All of us who have never been were presented our first day with experiences unlike any in our lives. There are countless other things that were unique that occurred that will be written about later after I get home and am able to decompress. But one thing is for sure: even in Haiti where poverty, remoteness, neediness, hunger, and all manner of hardships and heartaches exist - there is at least one place in Hinche that is carving out a bastion of hope and promise and is actively fighting against those former evils. That place is Father Walin's St. Andre's Episcopal Church and School.

The next day brought more and more evidence of this as we began to dive deeper into the world of Haiti, Hinche, and its people...