This is for those of you who have, or inevitably will, ask the question:

“How was your trip to Haiti?”

What a loaded question. Let me attempt to answer it.

In a word:
Incredible.

In a sentence:
We saw, experienced, taught, learned, marvelled, shared and laughed a lot.

In a short paragraph:
The temperature was hot – around 35ºC (95ºF). It was pretty dry and dusty. The smell of a lot of Port-au-Prince was that of garbage and charcoal and diesel exhaust and sweat. Most of the people are extremely poor. Most of the roads are terrible in quality. In spite of all of this, we had an amazing experience. The people that we got to meet and get to know and work with were an inspiration.

Now, let me tell you right now that the above descriptions do not do our experience justice. So, for those of you who might be interested and/or have time for a fuller answer to the question, I will attempt to describe our time in Haiti in a bit more detail. I use the word “attempt”, because words, and even pictures, can’t quite make you understand what it’s really like unless you’ve been there. I should warn you, I wasn’t able to keep this account brief, but I hope you find it interesting.

Our trip was from August 8-16. We (Pete deBruin, Sharon Hofsink, Duane vandenOever, John Feddema and myself) left on a Friday morning (far too early in the morning) from Toronto, caught a connecting flight in Miami, and then we were off to Port-au-Prince, Haiti. We had been warned about what to expect getting off the plane: about the smell and the heat of the air that would hit us, and about the people. As I mentioned, most of the people in Haiti are very poor. Their perception of white people is that we are all rich, and so they see us an opportunity to get some money. This is why we were quickly accosted by some helpful Haitians coming out of the baggage claim; they hoped to get a couple of dollars from us for their assistance (which, of course, they did). We ended up being pretty thankful to have had them, as we had about 16 pieces of luggage between the five of us (at least two thirds of which was books and supplies we had collected for the school and medical clinic) and they kept falling off the carts any time we went over a bump.

From there, we headed to the vehicle that Randy and Karen Lodder [a.k.a. Wendi and Madame Wendi] had borrowed to use during the week. I would describe this vehicle as a cross between a plain grey tap-tap and a paddy wagon; basically it was a pickup with a cage on it. In the end we were glad for that cage, but I will come back to that later. A tap-tap is a very common sight in Haiti. It is their main form of public transportation. It is a kind of truck with benches, but the most distinctive thing about them is the way they are decorated. They are always painted in multiple bright colours and frequently with Christian words or messages splashed across them as well, such as “Jésus” or “Bondye Bon [God is good]” or (as we had to laugh once, since this concept is virtually nonexistent on Haitian roads, but I’ll get back to that as well) : “Patience”.

On the way to Randy and Karen’s house, we already started to get a sense of what Haiti is like. Bumpy, uneven, gravel roads with garbage piled up on the sides; goats wandering along the side of those roads, eating that garbage; driving without any signs or road rules; people walking along the road with big baskets of anything from fruit to chickens to cell phone cards and much more on their heads.

First we stopped off to check out the school we would be working at. It is surrounded by a wall, with broken glass embedded in the cement on top. Inside, we saw that although the school is not at all like schools here, it is still pretty nice considering its surroundings. It is painted in a bright orange and blue, making it very cheery looking.

After this, we got to Randy and Karen’s house, which is surrounded by a big wall with barbed wire on top and has a locked gate and two decent-sized black dogs for protection, because as white people in a country like Haiti, such measures are necessary. Their house is really nice, but still not quite like in North America; for example, they only have electricity for a few hours in the evening - the rest of the time the house runs on a generator; the water was not drinkable and was only cold; the shower consisted of water trickling or pouring out of a pipe from the wall. All in all though, we had pretty comfortable (not to mention very hospitable) accommodations. We ate dinner, talked together a bit, and turned in to rest from our trip.

After a fitful sleep due to the heat and the noises (mainly crowing roosters and barking dogs) I awoke to a pretty beautiful and interesting sight outside our window. A bright blue sky, sun shining warmly already at 6. Just outside in the yard were mango and other tropical trees. But also fairly conspicuous was the barbed wire on the top of the fence to remind us that this is no tropical paradise, and that there’s another world beyond those walls. Haiti really seems to be a country of contrasts. The gap between the rich and the poor is great. They don’t seem to take a lot of pride in their surroundings (e.g. the rough, garbage-lined roads) but yet they do take pride in dressing well, always wear clean clothing that’s in decent shape, keep themselves clean, and take good care of their cars. A lot of people, including within Haiti, see it as a country without any hope, yet it is said that they are a mostly Christian country and we saw a lot of spiritual hope in the people that we met.

After breakfast on Saturday, we were off to do some touring. Into our caged truck we piled and off to the metalsmith village. This is an area of town where local people make all sorts of things out of metal drums which they flatten out and shape using just hammers and sharp chisels. It was fascinating to see them work and what they were able to make, and the detail in which they were able to do so. Equally fascinating was the fact that most of their work was displayed on the walls in their houses, which gave us a chance to see how many Haitians live: small, simple, concrete houses with dirt floors and very little furniture and maybe a radio; and many don’t even have that much.

From there we drove out of the city and up the mountain to the Baptist mission. The drive was quite something. Let me try to explain what driving in Haiti is like; as I mentioned earlier, no rules and no signs or road markings. Basically, the most aggressive one gets to go first. Often you drive in the middle of the road, although really you’re essentially steering around potholes and obstacles. If you’re coming to a blind corner, you honk as you go around so if there’s someone on the other side, they won’t hit you. If someone is going too slow or is stopping for too long, you look to make sure there’s room, and give a long honk as you drive around them. If you’re coming into a busy intersection, you just move forward and hope someone lets you in; confidence and a certain level of aggressiveness are required. This particular ride was quite bumpy as we jostled our way up the mountain, passing goats and stray dogs and donkeys and all kinds of people.

We ate lunch at the Baptist mission and then went to do a little souvenir shopping. First we went in the shop, where things are on shelves and prices are posted and there is a lady at a cash register. Next, we went out to the little market on the street, where things are rather different. Keep in mind, being white, this meant we had money. Sellers of all sorts of things approached us, inviting us to come and see what they had and offering us a good deal. If one of them saw us looking with some degree of interest at a certain item at someone else’s stall, and he had an item like it, he would beckon us over and offer a better price. If we wanted to buy something, we would barter to a satisfactory price. We all bought something, especially Duane, who, as we were heading back to the truck, was followed by at least five of them, who clamoured around him, each trying to sell him something else. It was pretty funny to see.

From there we went to an old fortress, the most interesting part of which was, in my opinion, the spectacular view of the country below since we were on the mountain. By this time it was getting near supper time so we headed back to Karen and Randy’s house for a very typical Haitian dinner (prepared by the housekeeper) of rice with sauce and beans and chicken. After some down time and ending the evening with devotions and the daily “highs and lows of the day” discussion, it was off to bed again.

On Sunday we headed out to the country (the area of Cabaret) to experience a Haitian church service. Although virtually all the members were Haitians, the preaching minister was a missionary from the OPC church, Pastor Ben Hopp. It was really interesting to see how they conducted the service, to sing songs in both Creole and French, and to hear a sermon on a Bible passage read in French, preached in English and translated into Creole. After the service many of the members came up to us and greeted us with a handshake and a welcome. This was when I learned that in Creole (which is in many ways similar to French) if it is after 11 a.m., you will greet someone with “Bonsoir” (“good evening” in French).

After church, we went to the Hopp’s house which is located on a kind of resort on the ocean. We ate lunch together and then headed to the beach. The beach was beautiful, and the water was very warm (and salty). A couple of the Hopp kids (aged 8, 5 and 3, I think) showed us the best places to collect shells. After a wonderful afternoon swimming and lounging on the beach, we were back home for dinner, devos, highs and lows, and bed.

Monday morning our tasks began. Here I should pause to explain the purpose of our trip. Three of us (Pete, Sharon and I) were there as teachers to conduct teaching seminars with the Teachers at Adoration Christian School, at which Randy and Karen are the directors. The other two (Duane and John) were there as handymen to do repairs and other general odd jobs around the school.

I had very little idea what to expect. I had been told that the reason for the seminars was that the Haitian teachers had no formal training and therefore had little knowledge about the most effective ways to teach. Much of the teaching that is done is in the form of rote learning. Therefore, these eight teachers had much to learn. We realized this as the week went on, noticing that, although they were very friendly, receptive and enthusiastic in general, some concepts that are basic to us were new to them; for example, some of them needed to be shown the proper way to colour. They just didn’t grow up with the same sort of education that we did. We conducted our seminars by way of modeling; we were the teachers and they acted as the students and we showed them lessons that they could hopefully use or take ideas from.

My task was the Bible stories. Perhaps I should say Bible story, because I took the story of the birth of Christ and stretched it across the whole week. Since school in Haiti is conducted in French, I did my lessons in French (Pete and Sharon had translators for theirs). I focussed on things like how to tell a Bible story, how to challenge kids to think about them and verify comprehension by asking questions, and also the different sorts of follow-up activities that can be done, such as colouring a picture of the story, or doing a fill in the blank worksheet or a crossword puzzle.

I also got a sense of their genuine love for God and their desire to learn more about Him through his Word. In some cases, their Bible knowledge (as with all of us, of course) was a work in progress, but their interest was very encouraging, and they often asked good questions as well that opened up to really great discussions about God and his plan of salvation and what that means for us. On a side note, it is said that Haiti is 80% Christian – but also 100% voodoo. Although this was not something we saw a lot of at the school, it is something they have to struggle against. We actually got to see a lot of evidence of the voodoo culture on Saturday morning when we were at the metalsmith village; a lot of the artwork was voodoo in theme.
But coming back to the school week... Sharon focussed on how to work with a regular story and get the kids interacting with it in a great variety of ways. As her example, she used a really neat story called “Circles of Hope” which is about a little Haitian boy. It was in English but I had translated it into French ahead of time to make it easier for them to work with.
Pete worked on three different topics: Music, Art and Geography. For music, he taught them all sorts of fun songs, sometimes with actions, and it was a lot of fun to see them really get into them, singing enthusiastically, smiling, clapping and doing all the actions. A favourite moment of mine was at the end of the week when we all went downstairs to “perform” our songs for the other workers at the school and invite them to join us in singing; Pete asked if any of the Haitian teachers would like to lead the singing, and sure enough, they did, and they did it with gusto.
For art, he showed them a few different craft projects that they could make, for example, a painted rock that can also act as a paper weight when the breeze blows through the windows, a paper bag puppet, or a duck made out of a paper plate and some construction paper.

For geography, they worked on mapping skills, for example, how to draw a picture of the classroom from a bird’s eye view, and from there how to map an area, using symbols and a legend.
Throughout the week we were able to see the teachers happily take in everything we were showing them, sometimes sharing with us that they planned to use these things in their own classes, and that was very rewarding. It was also really neat to get to know them on a personal level and get a sense of their individual personalities. One thing I would have liked to have been able to do but couldn’t (since it was summer holidays) was see them in action in their own classes. At the end of the week they shared their appreciation for what we had done, and when asked to each tell what their favourite part was, they mentioned a wide variety of things, which was cool because it showed that each activity that we did with them was interesting or useful to someone in the room.

I was also able to pick up some Creole over the week, and was quite proud of myself toward the end at being able to put together a few basic sentences, such as: “Mwen vle apran kreyol” [I want to learn Creole); “M’ap vini!” [I’m coming!]; or, “Ki sa w’ap fait?” [What are you doing?]. Being the lingophile (?) that I am, I was itching to learn and practice more when it was time to leave.

There is so much more to share; the little things that will stick in my head, like the fact that when the water truck came by, it sounded like an ice cream truck, only the tune it played was the theme from “Titanic”; that we ate rice and beans I don’t know how many times; that when we went out for ice cream, there were a couple of guys from the UN there wielding big guns, not an uncommon sight in Port-au-Prince; that time and time again I had to quickly retract my hand to keep from unthinkingly sticking my toothbrush under the tap, from which the water might have made me sick; driving through the streets in the evening and seeing people that had been sitting there since 5 that morning, still selling all sorts of wares, each station lit up with a candle to show they were still in business... I could go on (and might, if after publishing this I think of something else I absolutely must share).

Then there are the not-so-little things that will stay in my mind: like the day we drove downtown through one of the most poverty-stricken areas and saw a scene I can’t really describe in any way that would do it justice; so many people, with so little, all crowded together in living conditions that can only be described as appalling; that smell that hangs in the air; being thankful for our cage as we drove through a really busy intersection in a traffic jam, with John holding onto the padlock inside that keeps the doors shut, ready to snap that lock shut if need be, because our truck is being surrounded by poor Haitians, even children, who see white people and want a handout and sometimes can become angry if you refuse them; a teen who was at the school most days helping out, who asked Sharon for her phone number, something also not that uncommon because these youth see Canada as a country where there is hope, and they are looking for someone they can latch onto or be adopted by, who can bring them out of the hopelessness of Haiti and into a land of opportunity; a man we met who had been born in Haiti but moved to Brooklyn at the age of six, who ended up getting mixed up with gangs, shooting someone and being sent to prison, then deported back to Haiti, where he has now completely turned his life around, and is a strong Christian who is very open with his faith and eager to share it.

I could go on and on. I already have. I guess I would sum up the experience as incredibly eye-opening. Sometimes you need to see how little others have (and still serve God joyfully!) to realize how richly we are blessed and how we ought never to dare complain about what we wish we had. Instead, we need to thank God for the many blessings He showers on us, undeserving sinners, as poor spiritually, of ourselves, as the poorest of the poor in a country such as Haiti, and seek to share the joy of those blessings with those around us, be it a world away in Haiti, or in our own neighbourhood around us.

Would I recommend that you go there? I suppose it’s not the sort of trip for everyone, but if you think you could do it, I can assure you, I learned as much, if not more, while there, as I taught, and I’ll probably be back to try and teach and learn more.

Perhaps I’ll end off by asking you to pray. Pray for, the voodoo-tainted church in Haiti, and the work of missionaries such as the Hopps. Pray for Adoration Christian School, where they work so hard to give an education to children who would otherwise not get one. Pray for Randy and Karen and the work that they do there, which isn’t easy. Finally, pray for the country of Haiti, that in a culture that can feel so hopeless, more and more people may know the real hope that is in Christ.