Haiti Mission Possible: Day 3

Monday, June 28, 2010 – Today marked the official start of our technical work for the Zachary’s mission. We broke off into our separate work groups and began our assignments. I’m part of the architect team with Phyllis and Sarah who are both architects. Our primary roles is to master plan the site and design the buildings for the first phase of this project; my individual role is to act as support to the architects by programming and space planning for different facilities that will be on the site.

This morning we met with the key members of the mission’s board of directors to get a better understanding of their vision for each facility on the future compound. After about 3 hours of programming, we’d gathered enough information to move forward and begin some loose site planning. During our time spent with the board members, I was so amazed by their desire to serve the people of Haiti and minister to the islands’ many disenfranchised. How does one tap into that part of their heart that enables them to have an attitude of complete servitude? Where do they gather the strength to give of themselves wholeheartedly without personal expectancy or obvious reward? The only thing they expect is make a difference in the quality of life and health of the community’s people, which is ultimately spreading God’s gospel through action.

I also spent some time this afternoon visiting the future site with the civil engineers and observe the surveyor’s work thus far. Jeremy (a board member visiting from Indiana) and Carmelo (Licia’s 13 year old son – Licia is one of the Zachery’s, and she oversees the rescue center piece of the mission). I tagged along to this side trip to just observe and get a better understanding of my project team members’ specific disciplines and to walk the entire mountainous terrain since I could complete the entire hike in my dress when we were there on Sunday.

What I didn’t expect to experience was a true appreciation into all the work that goes into effectively analyze a piece of land (20 some odd acres is a whole lot of land especially when you’re walking it. During our trek back to the mission’s existing facilities, Carmelo walked us through the woods. On that walk we got to see the people who live in the bushes. There were little shacks throughout hidden among the trees. These shacks were smaller than most bedrooms in the states, and entire families lived in these tight spaces.

I enjoyed my fair share of saying “Bonsoir” which is the way to say “good afternoon” or “good evening”. One Haitian man even took the opportunity to salute us with a more welcomed response, and I decided to take the chance to practice my Creole and have a more detailed conversation. He told me about the deep ravine in front of his shack that prevented them from taking the shortcut into the village. He showed me where they’re previously constructed a bridge to the other side with trees; he had recently dismantled the makeshift bridge after a tree broke off and his son fell into the ravine. He told me he couldn’t accept the risk to his children and the other village children, and were it not for the grace of God, his son might not have made it.

All I could think while speaking with him (I’ve since forgotten his name since I’m writing this entry 2 days later) is how in the midst of his disparity and near loss, he praised God for his grace and not once complained about his circumstances. He went on to share some more information about his family; I think he simply wanted an outsider to listen to him who understood the language and appreciated his human circumstance.

At the time, I really didn’t think there was anything extraordinary about my listening to and speaking back to his circumstances, but after sharing the story with Pat (one of my team member’s I was with) said to me that I’d just done something very powerful in my 5 minutes spent with that man. I’d ministered to him and circumstances by simply taking the time to find out more about him, recognizing his human needs and offering conversation which could have been responding to a specific spiritual need he might have been waiting on. I wanted to cry, but I held back the tears, because at that particular moment, I didn’t want the tears to overpower my ability to show hope to the villager I’d just spent time with; but the tears would eventually come as I later lay in bed and reflected on the day’s occurrences.