Haiti day 1

Haiti day 1

Yesterday we flew into Miami. Had a really good time eating Cuban Food, drinking Cuban coffee, and just having a really good time. We awoke before dawn and on a plane by 8 am. My normal enjoyment of the sight, smells and heat was nonexistent today. It was not the tent cities or cracked structure of the airport I remembered from my childhood. I walked off the plane via jetway... I was half way down the jetway when I realized I was not out in the open air. It was short lived; as soon as we got inside we were escorted outside to a bus. From the bus to a hanger made into a make shift immigration station.

As we stepped out of customs I saw many of the familiar faces of those that work outside the airport. Some I've know for 15 or so years. Happy to see they were well and alive. I listened to their stories of how some lost some and many lost all. Everyone living in the tent cities. At the Haitian Governments recommendation most have left their houses to do the structural insufficiencies. Even those that still have houses right now are not living in them. Pastor Antonio's is pretty hard-core, he's not left his house. He still sleeps in his own bed. Though right now it’s all alone as his wife and children are still too scared to.
Pastor told us the stories tonight of the first earthquake. He was driving down Delmas when everything started shaking violently. Many fled the cars to seek safety in nearby buildings only to find that would be the last bad decision they would ever make. How often do we as people seek refuge in the things of this world only to have them cave in on us? A few days later there was a large after shock at around 2 am. Pastor was asleep in his bed when it hit. He stayed in his house, kneeled in the corner and began to pray.
I drive past the heaping piles of rubble. And I mean heaping. You shouldn’t throw 9.0 earthquakes if you live in a concrete house. Some houses are completely flat and I drive by wondering if there was someone's child inside. Other houses are deformed like a teeter totter broken at one end. Streets are filled with debris, dust and broken concrete. Yet as I look at the people they haven't changed. They are not broken. Instead they take it as they always have one step at a time. Trying to scrape some form of happiness in a place where it can be hard to find. As we eat dinner with friends that are more like family, I see the smiles, hear the laughter and listen to the conversations in Creole and I am happy. Happiness still exists in Haiti.