Even though neither food distribution nor disaster relief of any kind were part of our perceived “mission” and certainly not allocated in our ministry budgets, the event of January 12 created both challenges and opportunities that could not be ignored.   Because of our significant history and presence on LaGonave, in Petit Goave and other areas we quickly realized that unless we and other partner organizations were willing to advocate for our communities any serious needs would be overlooked by the “drive by” approach of some multi-national or government agencies.

One very natural extension of our existing ministries was the decision to open an emergency field hospital in the city of Petit Goave. Because we have been doing medical ministry in Haiti for more than fifty years we were uniquely positioned in the chaotic first days after the earthquake to put medical people on the ground in some of the most devastated area and supply them long before most other organizations were able to mobilize.  At the same time our existing hospital on LaGonave was inundated with earthquake victims brought to the island by family members.  To support the medical enterprise, stretched to its limits, mission personnel both national and expatriate worked impossible hours for extended periods of time. 

In spite of obvious need for a relief supply/ food distribution the truth was that we lacked the funds to purchase necessary supplies, the logistical experience to pull off such an endeavor, and the manpower to organize and supervise orderly distribution.  It was at this point that God sent to us a team of individuals from the New York New England District of the Wesleyan church with whom our first “conversations” were held and from which developed a much larger network, including Calvary Chapel in Spokane Washington and several intersections with YWAM both here and in the states.  You can read about this part of the story at:    Churches Link Arms for Supply Shipment. Tonight I am looking backwards with gratitude and forward with open anticipation.

Looking Back  

Even as we first began to recognize our dilemma, our incapacity to do relief distribution in the face of incredible need, God was already at work putting people and pieces together to supply the need.  I will always be incredibly grateful to Chris Thompson and his son Caleb as the initial spark plugs, the New York New England District Superintendent Paul James made a courageous call to move quickly when all the details were far from clear. This great adventure would not have been possible without the physical presence of volunteers who took point to raise funds, purchase supplies, arrange shipping and then travel to Haiti to assist in distribution. Caleb Thompson and Andy Pratt arrived with the first load.  Josh Nerren who came all the way from Spokane provided valuable support shortly after.  Pete Thompson followed offering invaluable expertise as the distribution began to get a little more complicated.  Terry Snow and others of YWAM Haiti contributed their experience and logistical support.  Wesleyan Missionary/WISH directors Butch Alexander and his crew spent hundreds of hours transporting relief supplies over land and sea.  Haitian businessman Chris Nezivar provided a great deal of transportation support, much of it paid for out of his own pocket.  Haitian agricultural and project expert Paul Donn Jean crafted a masterful distribution plan for the civic and community organizations and Pastor Keno Osne spearheaded the church network .  Missionaries Tricia Alexander, Justine Iskat, Matthew Tegen and Diane Busch provided housing, meals and logistical support to the distribution team while also entertaining one medical/surgical team after another.  Our most recent food distribution volunteers were Chris and JD from YWAM Montana.

In our distribution to this point we have made strategic use of church networks but we have also intentionally created a network using civic and community organizations.  To this point our distributions have been peaceful, orderly and very positively viewed by the communities.  Unaccustomed to equitable distribution one lady in a remote mountain village observing the truck of food climbing the mountain turned to one of the Haitian distribution personnel and expressed her amazement and appreciation with the words of a Haitian proverb “water has finally run uphill.”  One local official in the town of Point-a-Roquet stated that this was the first time that he was aware that a distribution through Anse-a-Galets ever arrived in this town on the other side of the island. All this was possible by the gracious provision and the obedient response of an amazing network of people and organizations.

Looking Forward   

While it is difficult to project exactly what is going to take place in this still chaotic situation, two facts are clear.  The need for food, hygiene products, clean water and shelter material are still critical in the earthquake devastated areas and in those places where large refugee populations are still being maintained.  Distribution is becoming more complicated and may require some creative strategy. 

·         There are still remote areas that have not been reached with relief supplies.

·         The mandated reopening of schools on April 5 creates another potential distribution option, ie  feeding school children, wet or dry feeding.

·         In certain areas where devastation was near total, Petit Goave, Leogane, Carrefour Feuille the dependence of the population on relief food is still very high and will remain for an extended period of time.

·         In communities supporting refugee populations the need for relief food support will remain high at least until rain begins to fall on gardens (end of May).

I’m confident that God will continue providing resources, both material and human, to meet the still very present needs in of those communities where God has given us influence and responsibilities.

Distribution of relief supplies has always been an interesting prospect in Haiti. Because of Haiti’s history of political turmoil, extreme poverty and frequent natural disasters, distributions of vital supplies have been done on a major scale a number of times in the last 25 years. Some interesting lessons can be garnered from our experiences.

 Food distribution is always fraught with logistical difficulties. Staples like rice and beans are bulky and heavy.  To have any measurable impact these items need to be moved in significant quantities involving large vehicles and a lot of manual  labor. Further complicating the logistical process is the need for tight security throughout the whole operation from plane or ship to the distribution center. Distribution done without proper planning or understanding of the cultural issues came be very dangerous to both the donors and intended recipients

Media reports of mob violence at distribution centers tend to create the impression that the Haitian people are by nature unruly or greedy.  The truth is much more complicated. Everyday vehicles loaded with food stuffs move without security of any kind, unmolested, through the streets of Port-au-Prince and other cities. Bags and boxes of the very goods that have created mob scenes at distribution points are carried openly without incident. But let any cargo marked with symbols that identify it as relief supplies appear on the street without appropriate precautions and the “fun” begins.

So what is the problem with relief supply distribution?!  Fundamentally, the issue is one of ownership—to whom does this stuff  belong?  The amazing truth is that in a country that has so little sense of anyone being in charge, the Haitian people have a deep respect for personal property rights.  Venders spread their wares on city sidewalks without fear, retail  businesses of every sort  are doing a booming business, money changers ply their trade in the streets with big handfuls of cash. Rarely is there violence, or strong armed robbery. Like any society there is a criminal element here but not seemingly out of proportion to the population.

Relief supplies are properly understood to be the gifts of other nations or of multi-national organizations  to relieve the suffering of the people in crisis  and as such are seen as belonging to the people. When the distribution is carried out properly, (when the food supplies are sufficient for the local population and the distribution plan well-crafted for the local situation)  people will stand quietly for hours patiently waiting for their turn. Generally speaking, on those occasions  where there has been a violent incident related to distribution it is because people waiting for their share perceive that the food will run out before they get their turn or that something is unfair about the  manner of distribution (stealing food, partiality, politics).

Another observation important to this discussion is that the longer that relief operations go on the greater likelihood of problem developing.  An entitlement mentality will almost inevitably develop within the affected population who then can rationalize aggressive or even violent behavior.  As well, that smaller group which has devious intent in the first place may become bolder and better organized.

In Haiti, one immediate effect of the earthquake was the disruption of the normal food supply chain. A significant number of food staples eaten in Haiti are imported, the vast majority of them passing  through the capital city of Port-au-Prince.  When Port was largely destroyed these food shipments were interrupted. As a result the price of food staples more than doubled.  North American type groceries were almost impossible to find for weeks afterwards as the majority of the supermarket retail stores were destroyed in the capital.

As most of you know who have followed the progression of events here, beginning immediately after the earthquake, LaGonave was inundated with wave after wave of refugees, mostly friends and family members of LaGonave families but a number of people who were simply looking for a better place than their shattered neighborhoods in the capital. 

US and UN troops did helicopter fly- overs, apparently looking for the  tent cities that were popping up all over P-au-P  and other devastated areas. Finding none, some agencies declared that LaGonave had no refugees. The fact was that the refugees of LaGonave were absorbed into the community, not living under tarps or tents as in other parts of the country.

As a rule, LaGonave is always on the hungry side in February and March, even in the best of times,  as the dry season ends the food crops have long since been harvested, sold and eaten. Fruit trees and banana plants slow their production waiting for the rains. 

The additional refugee population, the increased food prices, and the seasonal factors soon made hunger the everyday companion of many of the citizens of LaGonave, as existing food stocks dwindled.  As the people began to cry out more and more for food relief, we realized that the mission had to be involved in finding and delivering food stuff to this part of the country in spite of the obstacles. Without food distribution starvation would have inevitably followed quickly on the heels of the devastation.

- Dan Irvine

This post was written by Caleb Thompson after a boat run last week. 

Yesterday was a tough day but it started like the rest.  PT and I got up at about six to pray quickly, make coffee, grab a stale biscuit and meet Butch.  The plan was for the two of us to run the lobster boat without Butch for the first time.  Every pound of food we bring to the island comes by small boat, either the lobster boat, the Breezy Sea, or the sailboat with outboards, the Wesleyana.  The latter is run by an all Haitian crew but the Breezy Sea must be in the command of a North American.  So, PT and I had done some training and were off on our first run alone.

I took the helm first, figuring PT could have it on the return when it was loaded and required more skill.  Pete Thompson, aka “PT”, is my uncle and wingman down here.  He and his church have contributed enormously to this ministry.  (They funded the second container alone, among other things.)  PT is also a former Navy Commander, so running a lobster boat is well inside his ability.

The sea on the way over was the worst I have driven in with five foot swells consistently with six or seven footers occasionally.  One seeks to drive into waves or to follow them, of course, but the difficulty yesterday morning was that the length of the waves ran parallel to our course.  This forced me to drive thirty degrees off course, making a long trip with a lot of steering much longer, to avoid taking the waves broadside.  At last, less than a mile from shore the waves calmed enough for us to change course and drive following them, roughly toward our destination.  No more wash over the front deck and spray onto the windshield, no more way up on the crest and crash!  We were almost there and glad for it.

Suddenly, without warning, the noise of the engine surged in our ears.  We had been at a constant 2300 rpm’s, constant temperature, constant oil pressure.  In a heartbeat the engine roared to maybe 3000 with load clanging and a great plume of black smoke.  Before my mind realized what was happening I cut the throttle and a second later cut power.  Turning around, it’s frozen in my mind, I saw knee high flames roaring out of the engine compartment into our cabin.  This was a fire of intensity, burning fuel with plenty of air, not the soft crackle of kindling or a campfire.

Immediately in front of me were two fire extinguishers laying on a pile of tarps and boxes.  I yelled to PT, “Fire!” and tossed him one of them.  The cabin was already filled with thick black smoke.  I jumped out the port door to the rear, PT the starboard.  5 seconds had passed.  We both struggled for another second to get the stupid pins pulled, then wheeled back in simultaneously and fired at the base of the flames.  White, vile soot, billows of smoke.

The noise of flames sounded back, but everyone was out, the crew staying out of our way.  Then, 10 seconds had passed.  I asked out loud for the Lord to help us and ran back in.  It was probably pointless to shoot at the deck where the flames were coming out of the gaps around the hatch but I did one more time.  I ran out to grab a breath then crawled back in to try to open the hatch.  No good, choked and had to leave.  PT shot some more.  I asked God for help again, “God, please, give us a hand here!”  

I crawled back in.  PT had thrown the tarp and garbage out of the way, a good move because now I could see a one inch hole in the deck right above the fire and the engine.  I laid on my stomach and shot my entire extinguisher into it.  I learned later that PT had done the same thing.  From examination later, we realized that the hole in the deck was in the perfect place over the spraying fuel and source of the fire.  No more flames, anywhere.

I can’t say at this point how many minutes had passed, probably only a couple but in my memory it feels like more.  I asked Bernard, one of the Haitian workers and a good man, to grab some buckets of water in case of a flare up.  Our extinguishers were all but spent, only PT thought to save any at all.   The Haitian crew opened the engine hatch and poured the buckets straight in.  This was not what I had in mind, but in hindsight they were right to do so.  A little corrosion is a small price to pay for the last few embers out.

The smoke started to clear a little so I held my breath and grabbed our packs out of the cabin.  God had saved us.  The fire was out.  PT called us all into a circle, hands on shoulders.  I was so smoked and sweated up that I couldn’t stand as the boat rolled and drifted.  Only the people in the circle next to me kept me on my feet.  What we prayed there was a real prayer.  

Thank you, Lord, for saving us and our boat.  Praise God for His deliverance.  Praise our God who hears us.  (Even when we pray things like, “God, give us a hand.”)  Praise God for making every second count.  Thank you Lord that you never let anything happen to us that isn’t in your control.  We see your hand in this Lord.  We see how you are with us.

Pretty soon after, the Wesleyana came to tow us the last half mile to the wharf on the mainland.  I don’t know, but I imagine that they saw our smoke.  For me, at this point, the smoke and “purple K” as PT calls the extinguisher fog, was making me pretty sick.  I’d breathed in a several lung-fulls by accident in the fight.  PT had done the same.  I felt like wet pasta for about an hour, just kind of hanging on the sail boom as we plodded toward the dock.  A few hours and a coca-cola fixed me up, though, so no harm done.  PT was better after three hours later, as well.  

The afterward on the boat, as we know it so far, is that the boat is not too badly damaged by fire and engine is not destroyed.  It looks as if tomorrow we, being us but especially Butch, will just need to replace some wiring and tubing.  At the same time, we could see just how close that fire really came to destroying the boat and forcing us to swim.  It was the return fuel line that had been broken somehow and sprayed fuel onto the super heated exhaust pipe.  If the supply line had only a few more degrees, it too would have bled into the fire and from there we would have had no recourse as if fed the fire bigger and bigger.  Once again, see God’s awesome mercy.

I hope, in writing this, even if I have conveyed the excitement of the moment, I have made the only point I wanted to make.    That point is how trustworthy our Lord is, that we can cry out to Him and He will save us.  He has shown this to us yet again.  I praise Him for that.

HS.
Caleb Thompson