What is Normal?

There's always something to talk about in Haiti, insomuch that its a regular thing that a news-worthy event takes place, but does it always make the news? Are the Haitian people just used to these strange things happening?

There is still a sense of war on the streets here in Arcahaie. Last week the group of rebels blocked the road (normal) near our home. A news reporter showed up to video tape the action, but she must have forgotten that they would not appreciate there photo being taken. The camera was confiscated and the reporter executed. Earlier this week, the president of Haiti drove through on his way up north, on his way back threw Arcahaie, the rebels were waiting. They riddled the convoy with bullets and soon a shootout proceeded, The shooting could be heard clearly from our home. The president finally made it out, but is not happy. He has sent many secret police to our town trying to round up the culprits, and many innocent people have been arrested in the process.

We've had a couple of groups visit us recently; Barry's sister and her husband from Kansas, and John Lengacher and his children, from Utica, Ohio.  During the downtime from working on the house, the weeks have been filled with preaching and Bible studies again.

 One of the services on the schedule was at seven in the evening, when the sun has already set over Barbancourt, and the occasional solar powered light is all that breaks up the blackness. We crossed the blacktop and ventured a ten minute drive down the rocky dirt road that runs eastward into the countryside. We weren't headed for a church building, but rather found the congregation gathered practically on the road. They had left a break in the seating large enough for vehicles to pass through, which we did in order to find a place to park the truck. A make-shift stage with a tarp roof actually looked quite professional in the dim lighting.  Pastor Bazalet was there waiting for us. The speakers blared the strums of the electric guitar, the melody of the piano, and the enthusiastic praises by the pastor leading the singing.  All the men, women, and children were dancing, shaking, and chanting along with the repetitious lines of the song. We couldn't help but notice the two women in the back who were so engulfed in the rhythm that they seem to forget they were holding little baby bundles, wrapped tightly in thick blankets in the "chilly" night air.  After a half hour or so of this festival, the pastor opened the mic to anyone who had a testimony to share. A middle aged man quickly came to the front and began relaying a dream he had in full detail. Our translator tried to interpret, but couldn't really make out what the man was saying and soon gave up. It wasn't long before everyone was lost on the story, so the pastor thanked the man and kindly cut him off. 

Barry has preached to this particular group several times. They typically seem receptive and the pastor is thankful for the message, reiterating in his follow-up what Barry shares during the sermon. It was the same the same this time. The music fired back up after the message, and included a Creole rendition of "Power in the Blood." At the end of the service, about half of the people gathered there climbed into the back of a large tap-tap to head to their own neighborhood.

Another stand-out service was two Sundays ago, when, thankfully, the Lord struck me with a reminder.    We were thirty minutes north of home in the town of Mouri, where we had been in February as well.  The tightly packed, unfinished church was bursting at its seams again, and we squeezed to find a sturdy bench to sit on. The drums banged. The people danced. It was a real party, and I was struggling to watch it.  Just when I had started to "get used to" church being this way and was learning to sit through it. Can we ever become comfortable sitting through vain worship? As soon as the music ended and the pastor got up to mediate the service, everyone lost interest. The young people chatted and giggled, the old people leaned their heads and started falling asleep. When he was finished and the pastor returned to the pulpit, I had a squirmy, hungry baby to tend to, and I finally decided it was time to find a place to take care of her.  As I was about to exit, a young man stretched his arm across the doorway, and surprising me with his English, asked, "Where are you going?"

After a brief explanation of my need to tend to the baby, he reluctantly let me pass. I found a small, homemade chair inside a charcoal-dusted cooking shack that's used by the church's orphanage. When Bethany wasn't quite half-finished, the young man came out to where I sat and boldly declared, "Excuse me, but, your time is up. You are only allowed five minutes and that time is up."

"Excuse me?" I asked more than once, confused. He repeated himself twice. I got up and hurried back inside to ask Barry what was going on and why this boy was telling me I can't be outside.  Apparently, people are so "squirmy" at this church that they have patrols at every doorway to keep people inside during the service. When "Pastor Barry" told the boy to let me go, I was able to go back out and finish what I had intended to do. I had to fight back tears while I sat back down on the little homemade chair. The whole morning worship service had already been a struggle watching the way people behave, and a young boy telling me I can't be outside while I tried to feed my baby was almost too much.  

While this particular Sunday morning was a challenge at the time, I'm thankful for the Lord's reminder.  What is normal?  I am so certain that God is pleased when we can truly worship in Him in sincerity without the emotional highs that come with the blaring instruments and rhythmic drum beats.  I also don't plan to ever have a comfy rocker to sit on in an air-conditioned nursery while we're here, but maybe someday soon I'll figure out just how to modestly tend to a baby without stepping on the natives' toes while I do things our way. I pray that God gives Barry patience as he travels, preaching in these environments throughout the week!

Anyone's welcome, but nobody's leavin'

This past Sunday service was perhaps a little more uplifting. Pastor Oscar invited us down the road to his church again, and Barry is always very willing and thankful for the invitation. This large church in Barbancourt is where most of the people in our village go, so it's always a chance to preach to lots of friends and neighbors together.   They usually like to give us the comfortable chairs with the choir at the front of the building, a few feet from the speakers that can be heard a half-mile away. For the sake of the children's hearing, we thankfully declined and asked to stay on the benches toward the back.  We soon found out why they like to give us those nice chairs. At the start of the service, Katie and I and our three children shared the bench with just one older lady, and had plenty of room. Over the first fifteen minutes of the service, more and more people kept packing into the benches. The children were all on laps, and we were squeezed leg to leg with other women and their children.  On a warm day in Haiti, it doesn't take long for 200 people, most of them dancing and waving their arms, to really bring the temperature up in a building. Most people bring a rag to church to keep the sweat from dripping. Regardless of the heat, I thought it was nice to sit back with our neighbors and be "regular" people at church.

When Barry posed the question, "Do you REALLY believe in Jesus?" to the congregation and explained what that meant, it was well-received. Pastor Oscar, who sometimes disagrees with the Anabaptist vision, followed up with total agreement. He even told them, "the ax is already at the root of the tree, and every tree that doesn't produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire."

Inside Pastor Oscar's church, with not room for one more person on the benches.

Bethany making friends with Frido, our close neighbor and a deacon at the church.

May God keep working in this village, and in this whole country!

On Preaching and Pork

Barry has been encouraged with some of the progress that seems to be showing with some of the regular Bible-study groups. Interestingly, it seems as though the ones with sincere people who listen intently and ask lots of questions are groups of young people. It's been over 13 months since we arrived in Haiti, and the list continues to grow with churches desiring to have him come preach and teach. Seeing fruit from the efforts helps to give courage to continue doing the Lord's work, despite what obstacles may come along the way. Abram also loves going along to Bible studies with his daddy, and eagerly hands out tracts if he gets a chance to go street preaching.

In other news, the time finally came to butcher the hog that Barry's been feeding for several months. With much help from Brother John Lengacher and his family, as well as Katie and her sister who were all here, we are very thankful to have a good supply of homegrown pork in our freezer. Since I'm not very experienced with rendering lard, we offered the extra fat trimmings to the nearby neighbors, knowing they're accustomed to doing a lot of things the old-fashioned way. Well, it wasn't just the fat they wanted. They took the skin, the head, the intestines, the kidneys, and would have taken the feet if a random dog hadn't snuck away with it.

 The whole village was excited about the donation. They were all having a really good time, laughing and chatting as they prepared their feast. The big, heavy skin was hauled out of our backyard by three women, then scalded and the hair scraped off. The whole thing was then chopped into smaller pieces to be boiled or fried, depending what each household had on hand.  I boiled the bones and made broth, and we had pulled pork for supper. Piker was then glad to take the bones home to his mom for her to make more broth. When they were done with that, they would break open the bones and consume the marrow as well. I'm not sure if they all thought we were wasteful for handing out all those "extras," but I do know they were a little bit surprised that Americans would do their own butchering in the first place.   It was a good day building stronger relationships with the neighbors and learning a little more about the frugal ways they know how to do things.

Using dead banana leaves to make a quick fire to scald the pig skin

Showing off the skinned pig head.

February Church Roundup

February 24th: We headed to the little road just across the river to a large building, half full. When we arrived at 7:00 am, they were already singing their last few songs before the sermon.  It was a breath of fresh air to see that there were no jumbo, over-powering speakers to help with the process of hearing damage.  It seemed like everyone was participating in the singing, which was led by a young woman.  All the women wore something to cover their heads. (Head coverings were the norm for women in Haiti until fairly recently. Now, for the ones who still hold to this value, it doesn't always matter what the covering is made of either. I've seen it all, it seems. Any scarf, Lacey thing, T-shirt, children's pants, stocking caps, ball caps, or even wash cloths are consider adequate for covering.) 

After Pastor Bazalet gave his usual introduction and shared what a "great sacrifice" Barry has made to come live in Haiti, Barry's 90-minute sermon held the full attention of the congregation.  Afterward, the pastor stood up to reiterate what Barry shared.  "Usually we don't have anything to do with Americans," he said, "but it was a blessing to hear one preach the truth." 

February 17: A large group meeting in an old brick structure, squeezed tightly into the bustling town of Mouri, about a half hour north of our house. The building itself was only feet away from the blacktop, but the tight quarters meant the only place large enough to park was a fair distance down the dirt lane that ran nearby. Approaching the church on foot, we could not actually see the building until we had squeezed through a single file alley between other buildings, and stood in the small, paved courtyard just outside. Tne church seemed to have been added onto. A side wing that looked like it was still under construction allowed several more people to sit and participate. As we took our seats on the last available bench, we quickly realized we had to spread out evenly and try to keep our weight towards the ends, or the on remaining board may not hold our weight. I couldn't help but notice the pile of rocks in the back of the room, implying there was still work planned. I wonder if we would ever consider it viable to meet for worship in a building that was still under construction. Many, many churches here do this for years and years, simply for lack of funding. 

Barry delivered a practical message, using simple explanations and examples to paint a picture of holy living that was easy to understand. There was a small group of Americans visiting as well, workkng with the children's home that this church operates. 

February 11th: A somewhat familiar church. Barry has spent a lot of time with this pastor and having Bible studies at this church. Before we left for furlough, Barry had bumped into the pastor at the market. He was beaming. He joyfully told Barry that he was a changed man, and he was going to start getting his church in order. He didn't care if everyone left.  Well, a few months later there's not an empty seat in the house. 

February 4th: The "fancy" church. It stands tall in the village of LaDigue. For nearly a year it was a place that Barry said he would hope to be able to preach, but didn't see it as a very likely possibility. It turned out that one of the young men working on the house is a faithful member, and arranged to opportunity. Despite the grandeur of the structure, it was one of the smallest congregations we've seen. I haven't quite figured out exactly what draws people to one church over another, but it often seems like the more humble church houses are bursting at the seems. Of course, many of them have money for loudspeakers, drum sets, and everything it takes to have a good time during the music portion, and that does draw a crowd. This particular church was more on the mild side. 

This was Piker's first opportunity to translate a Sunday message. Josnel wasn't coming, so I suggested he give Piker a chance. He was evidently very nervous, but the message went forth nonetheless. 

Putting the Roof on (and other scenes from the week)

 Recently a group of three dozen or so were down for a week, both for Rameau's wedding and to put the roof on the mission house. Without many words, because our internet signal is currently strong enough to do so, here are some glimpses of the week in photos.

With the roof finished, the mission house is nearing completion.

Darla is familiar with the Haitian concept of "Degaje," which means to "make do." She's using a utility knife to cut meat to serve to the large group.

Rameau's tap-tap was one of the ways everyone went from place to place.

Sorting clothes to be taken up the mountain

Maryaj de Rameau & Helene

Last Saturday was another first for us, but this time it was a pleasant experience. There are many long-term relationships in Haiti, but rarely do they lead to law-binding, God-honoring marriage. Since most committed couples, even those with several children, are joined only by their life situation and a statement of commitment, the wedding of our friends Rameau ("Ramos") and Helene was the first one we've seen.

Rameau, being the generous giver that he is, was busy the week before with wedding errands and preparations, but still made time to help us out with transporting the large group that was visiting from home, or any other thing that was asked of him.  There were many similarities to the way things are done back home.  When the wedding day come, we headed over to Rameau's house to pick him up, with several of our neighbors dressed in full suits riding along. Rameau was also dressed to the tilt in several fancy layers, complete with white gloves. I'm always amazed at the way they can dress up that way but never complain about being too hot.

When we arrived at the church building, Helene was already there waiting. This in itself was a blessing. We've heard there's a "tradition" that the bride shows up late to her own wedding, so she can make a big entrance for herself when she so chooses. We were glad to see her desire to be humble and keep the whole event simple and Christ-like.

The ceremony included many of the brothers visiting from the States. It began with an introduction from the officiating pastor, then an opening prayer by Dan, and scripture reading by Nate. A friend of Helene was on the program to sing a special solo, but for some reason she announced with hand gestures that it wasn't going to happen. The congregation then sang a beautiful rendition of "How Great Thou Art" in French. Barry shared a sermon that was a perfect mix of love, appropriately enough, and the need for Christ in all our lives. 

The couple exchanged vows while nervously and seriously looking into each other's eyes.  It was evident by their demeanor that this commitment was not something to be taken lightly, and its a good thing.  The large group of youth from ACCF went to the front to sing a couple of songs. In the middle of the first song, the officiating pastor announced over the mic that the couple would sign the marriage certificate while the choir sang. However, since he announced it in Creole, nobody that was singing knew what he said, and the song quickly tapered off into silence.  Several parents tried to signal them to continue singing. After a long minute of looking around wondering what was going on, they began another song while the witnesses came forward to also sign the documents. Denny and James also prayed and offered a word of blessing for the bride and groom.

Signing the Marriage Documents

"Best Man" Dan

The pastor announced the couple officially married, and Mart said a final prayer.  "Before we finish," the pastor said, "there's one more thing we need to do. It is something very important for a wedding in Haiti." The close family members in the front row knew exactly what was about to happen, and they all left their seats to gather around the couple in front, with cameras ready.  After a loud count to three, Rameau and Helene had to exchange their first married kiss in front of everyone.  I never asked them just how they felt about that little tradition.

Leaving together as a married couple.

We all headed over to the tidied up, yet incomplete mission house for a short reception. Several ladies had worked hard to prepare a lovely spread of all kinds of special Haitian food. The bride and groom didn't stay long, but got their food in a take-out box and headed to their new home to enjoy it together.

It sounds as though they've really enjoyed their first week together.  They were gifted with a two night stay at Kaliko, the local beach resort. They returned to work shortly thereafter. Before the wedding, Helene desired to keep her job at the nearby orphanage, knowing she really enjoyed working there. It only took a few days, though, before she was ready to "stay home and take care of her husband" in her words.

Overall, it was a blessing of a day. We are pleased to see them take their commitment to each other seriously and desire to honor God with their lives. Since their home is the next one over from the mission house, we look forward to being able to spend even more time with them soon.

Violence and Political Unrest

Some of our previous posts have shared a little bit about the road blocks that occur on a somewhat regular basis in and around our area.  Last week, the chaos began with more fervor than anything we've yet seen around here. There's a lot of political unrest over the district that is Arcahaie. From what we hear, the federal government has proposed a notion to take away Arcahaie's title as a district (or whatever the correct translation is) because there can only be so many of these districts throughout the country and they would like to create a new one up north. This would also mean a loss of all of the little tax money they receive to function.

To put it lightly, people are pretty upset about it. We have seen some peaceful protests, but there is always the group that likes to take the violent approach.  After the first bizarre couple of days of numerous vehicles and tires sent up in flames, guns fired, and "the blacktop" backed up for miles, law enforcement stepped in.  The police and UN troops are both out in full force along the main road.  Armored vehicles with fully-automatic machine guns, helicopters overhead, and guns in every hand are on standby in order to prevent the chaos from continuing. They have announced that they're not afraid to shoot anyone who gets out of line.

Schools are not in session, stores are closed, and the usually very busy streets are mostly vacant near and on the blacktop. All of this prevention has caused the gangs to be upset about their inability to wreak havoc, so they said, "tomorrow, we'll call on the voodoo powers." Thankfully, we heard or saw nothing of anything really coming of it. For now, on Friday, people are still very cautious, but starting to ease back out toward the blacktop. We are prayerful that no unprepared lives will be lost by all of this, and that the whole ordeal can be resolved peaceably.

Troops and police guard a protest.

A burnt flat-bed truck, still loaded with bags of concrete that never made it to the job-site.

What's left of the dozens of tires that were burnt in the streets. The police have done a lot to keep things cleaned up, which helps keep a sense of peace and tells the trouble-makers they aren't accomplishing anything.

Some Trust in Chariots, and Some in Horses:

For I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my sword save me.

This past week, Barry has seen more violence and hatred than ever before.  A few days ago, he received word that our dear friend, Ramou (lovingly also known as Ramos) was being held captive by Odmar and his friends. Ramos was trapped inside his vehicle while it was violently rocked and shaken, machetes were brandished, and angry men threatened his life. When Barry heard the message, he quickly got in his truck to head the scene. As he made his way down the road, he started passing more of his friends, each running full sprint toward the same scene, with machetes in hand.  These men, who have been working on the mission house, are from the mountain. There, the people uphold their own law. If someone does wrong, his life is taken by the people's own system of "justice." Now they are all ready to enforce it here in Arcahaie, on behalf of our own Haitian friends.  One by one, they jumped into the back of the truck as Barry rushed to find Ramos. When they arrived, a war broke out.   Hand to hand battle raged with machetes, rocks, or any other nearby weapon. Barry did all he could to try to get it to stop. Odmar, the man leading the whole insurrection, fled for his life, and the fight eventually dissolved without loss of life.

The battle, like most, is all about money. Years ago a few brothers purchased the land where the mission home is now being built from a middle aged man. That man took the money gladly and went on with life. Some time later, the man's nephew came around raising a stir, claiming the land to be his.  After months of digging and investigating, we discovered that Odmar, the nephew, would have had some rights to the land through an inheritance, but because he was in prison at the time of the sale, he was excluded from the money distribution.  Over time, he's done all he can think of to make up for the money he was shorted by his uncle. The land used to be a full field of plantains. Thousands of dollars worth of plantains were stolen from the land. Before we started building, the whole issue was settled in court, and Odmar was paid his share of the inheritance.

But it's not enough.  The heart that seeks after wealth will never be satisfied.  He has threatened the lives of our friend Merelin, whose name is on the land.  The men working on the mission home, who are many of Merelin's family and friends, have all taken to sleeping locked up together in the same house.  There is a price on Odmar's head, and these mountain men, without Christ, will not let go until they feel justice has been served. Odmar announces almost daily that he plans to come with guns.  Thursday night, he made claim that Ramos has less than a week to live. Knowing the reality of the situation and the hearts of wicked men, Ramos asked Barry to take care of his bride-to-be, with only a few weeks left until his wedding day.

Meanwhile, the work has to continue on the house. If Barry would decide to call it off because of the whole mess, it would only aggravate the situation even more. What little reserve the men have now would be gone. If they aren't working, they aren't making money, and Odmar would surely be killed.

Our prayer through this awful, messy situation is that God's mighty power can be revealed.  We desire that others can see, through a few believers, that we do not want to fight.

But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle..."

We desire that all of the men involved may see Christ shine through in this.  Jesus said, "do violence to no man," and we pray that in refraining from the strife and bitterness that is so welled up, they will see something different in us.   We pray that God can be glorified as this is all somehow, someway resolved once and for all.