The last three days have to be written about together. There is no other way. We woke up and packed. Jeremy, the driver, was due to be in Pestel around 12:00, which meant we had to leave directly after the Sunday morning service. Having endured the almost 9-hr boat ride to Cayemite, we decided to limit time on the sea, so we arranged for a 1.5 hr boat ride to Pestel, and then a ride across Haiti that would be approximately 8 hrs.
Ricardo preached his heart out and this after we witnessed a moving baptismal service in the ocean directly in front of the town. After Ricardo preached, the pastor spoke about Ricardo, and Charness came up to speak about me to the church. It was moving and it meant a lot. Ricardo, myself, Dani, and Jasmine all spoke to the congregation. I could hardly get any words out as emotion poured out of me. It is an humbling event to look into the eyes of a group of people that hold nothing but hope and love, and desperately want you to come back because you have brought hope with you. This is what I saw, and it was hard to leave. Together the leaders and the pastor prayed over us as we started our journey home.
We rode to Pestel on beautiful seas and arrived to the sight of…no Jeremy. Turns out, as he came into the town of Pestel the vehicle had two flat tires. A local resident had us to sit on her front porch as we waited, and Jeremy showed up with a temporary tire after 45 minutes or so. Cedesse had come over with us and we said goodbye. Charness headed back to Port-au-Prince with us so in total we had seven passengers in a vehicle designed for five…plus we had a rooster that Ricardo’s uncle gave him. We drove to the edge of town and again sat on the steps to someone’s front porch as we waited for the tires to be repaired.
After the repairs were made, we loaded up and headed into the mountains of southern Haiti. The roads were rough and the stones were sharp. The scenery was both awful and breath-taking as we drove further into the mountains. Two flat tires later, we found ourselves with a dead battery, and no way to get moving again. We had food so we ate as we pondered the situation, and we flagged down a motorcycle driver to find a battery in the next town for us. The next town was an hour and a half away, and well after dark we realized that he was not coming back. This is the first time that I got a bit worried. A local man allowed us to sleep on his floor. Since I was the real foreigner, I was given a cot to sleep on with a reed mattress. We all laid down, and slept very little as two other cars broke down in the same place in the middle of the night, and the people in those vehicles were not happy. They yelled and beat on the door, but never tried to really get inside. I figured if I was killed it would probably be fast, so I prayed about it and went to sleep. I woke up to the crowing of roosters and a little cooler temperature as we were in the mountain region.
About an hour after we all woke up, the guy on the motorcycle showed up with a battery for the vehicle. Turns out, he had had two flat tires on the motorcycle, and it took him until the next morning to get back to us. We were praising God as we cranked the vehicle up and headed back through the mountains. As we drove down the coast of southern Haiti, we were treated to some of the most wonderful ocean views. The water reminded me of the blue ocean you would see in Cozumel. I was informed that the majority of missionaries in Haiti outside the city of Port-au-Prince resided on this side of Haiti. I wonder why? It is beautiful. After a time we came into the third largest city and stopped to eat, get a tire repaired (again) and recharge a bit. After two more flat tires, and going back over the mountains, we dropped in at the mission that we first stayed in to speak with Pastor Adrienne. He informed us that they were ready to send much of the Mennonite canned meat over to Cayemite. What a blessing. Ricardo had become pretty sick, so we headed back into Port-au-Prince.
Once again I was struck with the tent cities, shelters, and destruction from around the 40 mile out mark. As we came into the city of Port-au-Prince, it was very sobering to see all that was left. Finally, the 8 hour trip that turned into 2 days was over. Around 5:00 on Monday we arrived at the home of a cousin that was untouched by the earthquake. We unloaded, took showers, ate a meal, and went to bed…exhausted.
The house was surrounded on three sides with people living in tents and shelters. Such was the case in much of this area. Daniel, Dani’s cousin, was living in the home helping his father as he had health issues. Daniel’s family was in Canada and had been without Daniel for at least a month. What a pleasure it was to speak with him and hear his heart as he reached out to his family and countrymen and women. After breakfast, he took us to the airport, and we soon departed for Miami.
After landing in Miami, we made it through the customs areas and I connected to my flight to Atlanta. Ricardo and Dani stayed for a couple of days in the Miami area with family there, but this young man went home. I have never been so glad to be driving in the Atlanta airport area in my life. Real paved roads and everything, it was great. I got home and took what seemed to be the longest shower in my life and slept like a dead man. I was home, my wife and kids seemed glad to see me, I was glad to see them, and God was and is so good.
Prologue next…
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