Haiti: Quest and Dreams
Episcopal News Service. June 28, 1984 [84140]
Rev. John E. Lawrence, Rector of St. Ann's Church, Sayville, N.Y.
NEW YORK (DPS, June 28) -- I write this while still suffering from culture shock. Having spent June 11-15 as a delegate from the Diocese of Long Island to the Province II Synod meeting in Haiti, I am still trying to sift through all the impressions, information, and experiences, and to put all of it in some perspective. As I travel about suburban Long Island looking at our commercial and recreational parks, our shopping malls and well-groomed neighborhoods, it is not an easy task. How do I describe Haiti in a culture like our own?
The first and most important fact about Haiti is poverty. Ninety-five percent of the population is below the Haitian poverty level (a level considerably below the poverty line in the U.S.). The poverty is omnipresent and unrelenting. The average per capita income in Haiti is $200.00 per year. Haiti is the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. Most of the population lives in what we would call shacks or in huts. Clothes are washed in muddy and polluted streams or in gutters. Eighty percent of the children under five suffer from malnutrition.
Cultic practices encourage and spread such diseases as dysentery and tetanus. Polio is still rampant among children. I was advised by my doctor and the county board of health before I left to take antimalaria medication. The smell of rotting fruits and vegetables is everywhere. The diseases and effects of poverty are even more apparent than the repressive government about which we'd heard so much or the famous Ton Ton Macoutes (secret police) or Voodoo. On quite a number of occasions the words of my 14-year-old son Jeffrey returned to mind -- "Why are you even going there?"
Why were we -- bishops, priests, and lay people from the second province of the Episcopal Church -- traveling through this desperate land among these desperate people? It became almost a prayer as we sought a sign or signs from God as to what his purpose was for us as well as for the Haitians. And we began to find them -- sometimes in unexpected ways.
We arrived in Haiti on Monday mid-afternoon. After flying over the beautiful blue-green Caribbean filled with lush islands, I had been at first surprised to find Haiti appear more brown and grey than green from the air. This, I discovered, was a result of unplanned and ungoverned stripping of the forests for firewood for cooking. (A program of reforestation in recent years has actually made it greener than it was a few years ago). As we rode in a small bus into Port-au-Prince, we had our first glimpse of the "homes" along the road: no windows, no electric wiring, nothing more than 8' X 10' structures of wood or cinderblock, some without even roofs. At first glance, we thought it was the "poor part" of town -- and it was, except virtually all of Port-au-Prince is the "poor part" of town.
The local transportation for most Haitians is by "tap-taps" -- pick-up trucks with brightly painted wooden sides. People are packed in as tightly as possible. One of the most interesting things about the tap-taps is that they all have names printed on them, front and back. Most of the names have a religious tone such as "Jesus Mon Roi" (Jesus my King), "Marie Reine" (Mary the Queen), "Concorde" (Peace) or "Dieu est Bon" (God is Good). The official state religion of Haiti is Roman Catholic, and virtually the entire population is Christian.
On Tuesday we left at 8 a.m. for our first excursion -- a trip to Leogane about 40 miles southwest of Port-au-Prince. It was during the trip that we learned two more significant facts: 1) over-population exists in the rural areas as well as in the cities; and 2) the poverty in the country is even worse than in the cities. Before we left for Leogane, a Haitian Episcopal priest, the Rev. Yvan Francois, had told us that in Haiti it is not enough to preach the Gospel by saying "God loves you." That love must be translated through specific life-giving ways. We found some of those ways in Leogane. There the Episcopal Church has the first (and only) hospital for a population of 100,000 people. It also operates clinics in a variety of small villages to which doctors and clinicians travel on burros. In addition to the parish church, this center also has a school for 1,700 children, grades K through 6. The entire complex is known as Ste. Croix (Holy Cross). Through the school and the medical facility, they are doing a great deal to overcome superstition and train the people to live more healthy and productive lives.
From there we went to one of the clinics at a nearby mission -- St. Luc's -- which has both a center to care for children suffering from malnutrition and a school. They have also installed a well which provides the village with its first alternative to the polluted stream water they had been using. Here we saw our first Voodoo temple (simply four posts and a thatched roof). It was a reminder that Voodoo remains a major part of the culture despite the profession of Christianity.
Our next stop was Darbonne, about ten miles east of Leogane, where the entire village turned out for our arrival. About 600 children from the Episcopal Church's school lined both sides of the dirt road and sang to us as we walked toward the school. We felt self-conscious about this until we realized the very real sense of pride and honor these children felt. And then we returned the honor by singing to them the Doxology.
On our trip back to Port-au-Prince we stopped at St. Mattheu's Church, where two of the lay readers (men dressed in suits and ties -- a rather incongruous sight in that setting) and the rector greeted us. We also stopped at a hut run by the Sisters of St. Margaret, an Episcopal order, to train Haitian women who are testing their vocation to the religious life.
We arrived back at our hotel in time for a two-hour lecture by an economic advisor to the Haitian government on the economy of Haiti. His talk consisted mostly of statistics, and his figures reinforced the fact of the poverty which we had seen much more clearly in person. His outlook was not optimistic.
The next day was spent in Port-au-Prince, where we visited the Cathedral School, Ste. Trinite (Holy Trinity). The school has 1,700 students, most of whom are poor. In addition, for older children, there is a trade school for 900 young people learning marketable skills and the Ste. Cecile School of Music. After that we visited St. Vincente's, a school and clinic for handicapped children -- the only one in the entire nation. We then went to the Musee d'Art Haitien where we had lunch and began to see some of the creativity of the people. The late Bishop Alfred Voegeli, who spent much of his time in Long Island after he was exiled from Haiti, had been a leading backer of Haitian primitive art, and his efforts have led many to appreciate its haunting beauty. Next we went to the College St. Pierre where Francois, who serves on the faculty, told us of the work of the Episcopal Church in higher education. In our lecture on Haitian culture that evening, we heard three conflicting views from three Christians on the place of Voodoo in Haitian society. The one thing all agreed on was the power of that practice in the lives of the poor.
Wednesday night and Thursday, we concentrated on the specific work of the provincial Synod. By now we were beginning to see some ways in which we as a Synod could begin to respond to specific needs in Haiti. We looked at some projects which might alleviate some of the need and approved funding for them. Of course, we realized that all of these would address only a small number of the many problems, but at least we addressed those. Late Thursday morning, we drove to St. Simeon's in Mirabalais, east of Port-au-Prince, to see another church and school for 260 children. One of the highlights of our visit was when a member of the congregation played their new small electronic organ, a gift of which they were extremely proud. After a few regular hymns, the organist turned on a switch which provided a calypso beat and then played "Stand Up, Stand up for Jesus" in a way none of us had ever heard before.
By far, the high spot of the entire trip occurred on Thursday night. We drove to the cathedral for a celebration of the Holy Eucharist. The cathedral was packed as the bishop, the Rt. Rev. Luc Garnier, celebrated Rite II in French. He also translated the sermon, preached in English by Bishop Harold B. Robinson of Western New York, Province II president.
After the Eucharist, we walked to the School of Music auditorium for a concert in our honor. It was for all of us a clear sign that not even poverty and disease could suppress the human creative need. The first half of the concert was performed by a boys' choir from the grade school. The soprano voices were clear as crystal and just as beautiful. They sang in Latin, French and English. The second half of the evening was a performance by the School of Music's Philharmonic Orchestra of works by Beethoven, Stravinski, Strauss, and others. The penultimate work was the overture for "The Sound of Music", where the lyrics to "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" struck me in a totally new and different way:
....A dream that will need
All the love you can give
Ev'ry day of your life
For as long as you live.
Climb ev'ry mountain
Ford ev'ry stream
Follow ev'ry rainbow
'Till you find your dream.
During our few days in Haiti, we had begun to see glimpses of that dream -- a dream rooted in the Gospel and implanted in the souls of so many of the Haitian people. On our flight home on Friday, I remembered these lyrics and realized that that was the reason I had gone to Haiti, even if I had not known it beforehand: to see something of that dream and to communicate it back to my world. That dream is the hope for which we all must work and live and give glory to God.