The poorest of the poor

Two weeks ago I learned we would be going to a place called, "La Grange" (Pronounced La Grunge).
'La Grange?' I thought. 'Does it live up to it's name?' I immediately wondered.  Jon explained that we were going there to conduct a survey because there is a group in the states intrested in aiding this community. He said we would have to do it very subtly,or relationally. "Because," He said,"If they see white people walking around with clip boards they are going to assume help is coming soon and exagerate their problems." We were asked instead to go door to door and ask people to tell us their story. We had two days in the village to acquire an understanding of infant mortality rate, daily food intake, natural resources in the area, ect. It seemed to me that this would take a lot longer than two days. "It's the poorest nation in Haiti" He finished.

Immediately my imagination was launched. Not only was Haiti already the poorest nation in the Northern Hemisphere, but La Grange was the poorest place in Haiti. Heidi Baker's words echoed in my ears, "Go to the poorest of the poor...no one else does." Was I about to meet the poorest of the poor? I imagined what I would see and wondered what in the world could prepare me for such an experience. I began to dread the day of our departure. We had nothing to give them, and I felt like we were going to measure how severe their suffering was.
When Terry and Ingvild Snow had come to the Kona base after the earth quake I remembered Ingvild talking about the severe malnutrition we would see "up in the hills" around St. Marc. She told us about the children's pot bellies and red hair. I had seen alot of hungry children so far, even alot of big bellies, but no red hair. I wasn't sure I could handle this task. Imagining a life so desperate that childrens' hair looses pigment was not a life I felt qualified to come face to face with.
Anxiety followed me up untill the ride out to La Grange the next morning. It was a long two hour ride in the back of a pick up out to the hotter-than-Haiti, middle-of-nowhere village. On the way practically every group of children we passed jumped up and chanted "Ter-ry!Ter-ry" upon spotting us. There were hardly any exceptions. No matter what they were doing they would run out to the road and wave and sing. YWAM had given every houshold in this section a bible and food for 10 days last year, and the appreciation was still flowing. The poverty to the left and right increased slowly as we went down the road until all village life faded. Mile after mile of open, dry scrub land followed. Finally some goats appeared on the edge of the canal, a sign that we were getting close. On the horizon I made out the shapes of the first mud huts in La Grunge. I took a deep breath. My frantic thoughts sychronized with my heart rate. 'What would I say to these people? How would they be better off after having met me? How much can we really accomplish with just two visits?' I wondered how poor the welcome would be when they learned we hadn't brought them anything.

As the Truck came to a stop spectators gathered but kept their distance. I noticed that the only one who came close to us was a severely handicapped girl about age 15. She greeted us with a big smile. I smiled back at her, heart broken at her head of solid red hair. Everyone else kept their arms crossed, looking us up and down. Our driver and long term staff Rodney briefed us quickly. "Remember, your the outsiders and it's your job to make the first interaction, especailly in an old fashioned farming community like this." We split up into two groups and headed off in seperate directions, each with a translator. Luckily the night before we had prepared a program for the kids for today, so at least we has something to say after "Hello". We went hut to hut, greeting the people and announcing that the kids can come to see us after school is out for face painting and baloons. I noticed that each time we asked,"How are you?" That they would respond with a phrase that roughly translated means, "We are here" or "We're surviving". It wasn't until we met up with the others who were unnofficially conducting a 'survey' (as subtly as possible) that we learned just how hard these farmers had it. Brian's team met a woman who has been pregnant for four years, meaning she had a baby attach in the wrong place and calcify inside her after dieing. Also Andrea held a baby that would for sure die of starvation if no intervention followed. Tammy met a family with an infant infected with scabbies so severe she could barely talk about it. And my dear Phoebe wept over a 10 inch pre-mie for 30 minutes. I am grateful I was excluded from these encounters because my heart was already broken for them.

At noon we had lunch in the privacy of a brand new school facility. 'At least this place is on the map' I thought. At one we let about 100 kids inside and told them the story of salvation and split them into groups for face paint,coloring and balloon animals. The program went by so fast and I was so proud of our team for having that much control over a croud that could've easily mobbed us.

The next day went about the same except we split into a survey group,and a prayer group.The prayer group would follow the survey team and we would pray for the needs of the family. I switched from one group to the other and got to witness Andria lead a 20 year old woman to Jesus. It was so special. In the afternoon we put on an improv skit for EVEN MORE kids. We made the cast 20 mintues before and had a rough screen play of the life of Jesus. The play went great. Brian narrated and so did the translator. We acted out the scenes with as much enthusiasm and cornyness as possible. Julio made a great Jesus,and the play as a whole was hilarious, to us and to the children.

On the way home that second day we all felt like we weren't done in La Grange. The data we collected was tragic. The reality was these families were starving. Everyone we interviewed said the same things. They had no food, yesterday, today, or for tomorrow and niether crops were in season. Something had to be done.We all felt it.

It wasn't until later that weekend we got the news, " We are going back to La Grange and doing food distribution!" The excitment was epic. The next week Terry bought $6,000 worth of rice, beans, and corn flour. As we packed it into rations we prayed for it to be multiplied. Distribution day was one of the funnest days thus far. Not only did every family get 45 lbs of food but we were able to provide formula and scabbies medicine to those two families! It was by far my favorite week. God ministered to me so much and I got to share in His desire to meet the needs of the poor.