Unreal

This place is crazy. Wait, did I say that already? I don't think I'm really processing everything that I see around me because it just isn't real. I knew before I came that I would have no concept of the poverty that I would see here. And it's hard to describe on this blog because you can't grasp it until you see it. Even then you have to sit and think about it for awhile.

I went with a team to a very remote part of Carrefour to build a house for a family. And by house I mean this wooden structure that would make a great playhouse but hardly a decent shed. One of our Haitian friends, Michael, drove us up the mountain through the crazy cluttered streets until we came to a dry riverbed that was about ten yards across. These people take their cars through hell and back. I cringe everytime we do ridiculous things in Michael's 4runner that an American would never ever ever do in their car. Anyway, we got the car up as close to the building site as possible and then had to carry our materials the rest of the way up the mountain, about 3/4 of a mile. We had these giant sheets of plywood and 100 lb bags of cement mix. We of course hired Haitians to carry those up which they did on their heads without using hands. I talked a big game about lugging a bag of cement up, obviously that didn't happen... But I did manage to bring up a 5 gallon water jug on my head. I was very proud. And my neck hurt.

When I took a break from working for lunch, I sat across from the woman for whom we were building the house on the door ledge. I couldn't quit staring at the flies gathering around her feet and face; she didn't even seem to notice them there. She had a baby with her who told her that he was hungry. He was very excited when I gave him the last half of my gnarly smashed up pb&j.

The most pointed experience of the last few days came when her neighbor asked us if we would come to her house and pray for her. We took an interpreter and went down a path to where she lived and found this half corrugated tin half cardboard shelter thing. Her baby girl was running around outside without a diaper on. Seeing her home and hearing her story really brought all of this home. We pass by the most extreme poverty everyday here but putting a name, a face, and a story with it helps you to understand. I know that I'm still too white and privileged and will never truly know what it's like to live in a house made of trash that lets all the rain in and has mud floors, but it hits me in the heart. Once you've seen it, it's impossible to ignore. The other things in life that I could be pursuing seem pretty pointless if they aren't to end the plight of the poor, the downtrodden, those who have little hope or have lost it altogether.

All of the groups finally left so it's just Megan, Trevor, Rita, and myself in the house now. I really got attached to those people and it was not fun to see them go, but wow things are peaceful. We have just embarked on a massive cleaning expedition that could ultimately kill us all. Eeesh. Wish us luck, I gotta go help now.