So we attempted to quiet down as we got ready for the journey ahead. That is hard to do with eight girls laying on half deflated mattresses, looking like hot dogs in buns! Giggling is contagious for most girls, and we were no exception. Eventually, the guys rolled out too and breakfast was graciously served. Then we all packed into the two vans and headed back to the airport.
After hauling all the cargo back into the airport for a second time, we quickly found that it wasn't going to be an easy day. The two at the counter obviously weren't as prayed over as the workers from the day before! They continued to insist we needed to pay again for some of the cargo. We showed our receipts from the prior day, over and over again. Finally, a third guy stepped in. He was just as confused as the other two but had a much different attitude!
The first thing he said was "We'll just make it work!"...and he did with the other two grumbling at his shoulder, to no avail. Eventually they backed away and all was well. This was the guy we were praying for. Thanks be to God for sending him!
So off we went, through the airport and onward to Haiti. Before we knew it, we were seeing the landscape of Port au Prince under us. The airport wasn't nearly as busy as our last trip, just weeks after the horrific earthquake. But travelers were still present in good number. It was nice to see the luggage carousels fully installed, as well. Last trip they weren't complete, so luggage was thrown into a big warehouse in a heap and you had to dig yours out. With 50 pieces of luggage and cargo, the carousel was a nice addition. It was apparent that the earthquake and the onslaught of aid workers, media, and family, really helped make some needed upgrades a reality. :-)
Another change I noticed was full uniforms for all workers, not just those behind counters. Even the porters outside had matching plaid button up shirts and ID cards hanging around their necks. A first for sure!
Once stacking up all 50 pieces of luggage and cargo, we headed for the door to find our two vans. Eleven of us and 45 items made it out the door without a hitch, but the three guys hauling the oversize overweight cargo weren't so lucky. They were held up by customs. The rest of us waited out in the 80 degree plus sun...and waited...and waited. I told all the other team members that they needed to begin praying, if they weren't already. And we waited some more. I began praying non-stop and with fervor but those last three green hats didn't seem to be coming. After about 20 minutes of prayerful waiting, I felt compelled by the Spirit to combine our resources and pray as a group.
I told the group that this was too long and we needed to start praying together, so we all grabbed hands as we encirled the luggage we did have, and began to claim God's authority in the situation. I prayed safety for Jerry, Darryl and Cooley, who we had not seen a glimpse of in way too long. I prayed that God would move the Haitians hearts and allow both our guys, and the cargo, through those doors.
[sigh]
And then we waited some more...
Finally, after waaayyy too much worry and prayer for son, husband and friend, I saw Jerry's green hat!! He said the Haitians wanted an official from Haiti to vow for the cargo. So Jerry was headed to the parking lot with our long time porter Jackson, to get Ulrick, our interpreter and HAPI rep. We've never split as a team like this, especially with just one of us alone. A lone American can easily become a target for kidnapping and extortion of money. But Jerry trusted Jackson, his Haitian friend of many years, so they faded out of my sight and I prayed even more.
[sigh]
Soon I saw the green hat again off in the distance, and Jerry was now accompanied by Ulrick, as well. They went back into the airport for even longer...and I prayed and prayed some more! As soon as I saw jerry's hat again, a huge sigh left my body. But Darryl and Cooley didn't follow. In fact, Jerry had simply returned for money. The customs officers were charging a 27% tax on the cargo because Ulrick didn't have any official non-profit paperwork on him. Jerry asked me to dig into our stash and he ended up taking back around $220 to basically buy back our items. They based the tax on only the items in those boxes and we had thousands of dollars of additional cargo stuffed in all but 13 of the other luggage already outside the airport. They just assumed it was all clothes and personal items, I suppose. At this point, we just wanted the entire team back together. Almost an hour from our departure off the plane, we finally reunited as we saw three green hats slipping out the doors and heading toward the rest of us!
[HUGE SIGH!]
Off and running again, with every piece of luggage and cargo we began with! Who'da thunk we would make it, but with God's strength, blessings, and provision, we made it after all. The funny thing was, the amount we ended up spending at the airport in Detroit ($910) plus the "tax" we ended up paying at the airport in Port au Prince ($220) ended up just under the amount we had originally set aside for cargo fees ($1200)! I guess God knew what we'd be paying all along! For all we know, one of those customs workers' kids needed medication or parent care, or a child needed an education. God had it budgeted, so good enough for us!
After a short snafoo of finding one van and two tap taps (brightly painted taxi-like trucks with an enclosed cage-like back to them) waiting for us instead of two vans, we had to fork over an additional $140 we hadn't expected. But at this point, we just wanted to sit down and begin the three hour trip to Mizak.
And what a trip it was! I must say first though, other than the Presidential Palace still looking exactly as it had immediately after the earthquake, there was not a whole lot of rubble in Port au Prince anymore. I saw a pile here or there, but no more. I was highly impressed and encouraged. I didn't expect so much progress. Don't get me wrong. Many, many homes and businesses are still down and need rebuilding, but the debris had been removed. Still, an amazing feat considering the staggering amount of debris that was there just a year prior. Market was back in full strength as every street was lined with everything from fresh produce to clothing, medications, and car parts. There were still plenty of tent cities, as well. Only tent shaped temporary shelters had been mostly replaced by a little longer lasting semi-long term tents, quansis, or pole buildings.
As for the road ahead, what a riot! Honking became a language as we quickly turned from left to right and left again up the mountains.
The only real problem was that several of us needed to potty bad!! And there were plenty of bumps. Too many bumps...way too many bumps. Just ask Kevin. He'll tell you all about it! Finally, two hours down the road and we pulled into a gas stations with a convenience store and indoor restroom. Indoor restroom means porcelain to sit on and a door to shut. You still have to let the yellow mellow and flush the brown down with a cup of water taken from a bucket. But it was gold to us, at this point! We also got cold mango juice, Haitian pop, or other bagged snacks. Yum!! I had mango carrott juice and it was delicious!
A while longer on the bus and finally we turned into Mizak.
We were told it was about 2 hours southwest of Port au Prince, but that must have been by crow's flight! It took us closer to 4 hours, maybe more. But then we saw the gates and the blue painted steel "Shalom Zone" sign. We knew we had arrived!
We were met by Angelica, a bi-lingual (Haitian Creole and English) missionary with the General Board of Global Missions (GBGM) of the United Methodist Church (UMC). She began introducing us to Pastor Paul and his wife Aimable (Amob), some of the staff and a few of the young people who help around the HAPI complex.
Niceties were given back and forth between us all, some in Haitian Creole, some in Englise (English). We were shown our rooms, picked our beds, and prepared for dinner. Just about then, with no warning, Pastor Paul slid a Book of Worship, a UMHymnal, and a bible in front of me for the "feast". I thought "a prayer for dinner??" So he pushed the books a little closer to me and I still thought "I'm not sure what you want..." Just then Angelica clarified that it was a love feast. An informal feast of love with simple bread and drink. Ahhhh!! I'm a bit slow. :-( Angelica later would ask me how long I had been a pastor. When I answered 11 years, she said "Oh! I thought maybe you were brand new the way you were so formal for the love feast." Ha! I thought they wanted me to be formal with the library placed in front of me! :-) Lesson learned for next time.
After dinner we walked around the complex, were shown where the kitchen was, the restrooms for piddle, and the outhouse for poo-dle. We also were shown the tent where the recording will be done for the CD Jerry and Kevin will be working on, the pavilion where Peace Pals meet on Saturdays and where nurses take their classes. They also worship under the pavilion on Sunday mornings.
By seven, we were all ready for bed. Darryl was right. That half hour did make a difference and us girls were wishing we had slept it, as well. So we began slowing down, settling into our rooms, gabbing about the day, still in amazement that we were finally here, right where God wanted us...and still in awe that all the equipment was right there next to us. Still amazed at God.
Tomorrow, we venture out beyond the steel gates to the mountainous area called Mizak.
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