First impressions are often the first ones you get.

“Poverty is a lack of opportunity accompanied by a defeated spirit.” – Journal, day one of our mission trip with KTIS and Healing Haiti. (May be plagiarized, but that’s what I wrote at the top of the first page.)

Some of the finest people you’ll ever meet. The hands and feet of Christ.

I promised no “And then there was a goat 400 meters down the road, and Jesus loved goats” posts on Haiti. This is probably as close as I’ll come to breaking that rule.

On our first day in Haiti we were given journals with our names on them to record our impressions. I’ve already published some of what I wrote on other days. Today we go back to the beginning. It’s below the fold because the pictures take a while to load.

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My first impression of Haiti is that it is the same as every other third world nation – people are people and raw sewage in the street is still raw sewage in the street. But the razor ribbon on top of the wall we’re passing is festooned with brilliant purple flowers, and for the first time in my life small children came to me with greetings of “Papa Noel” and simply want to walk with me and hold my hand as we make a circuit of the block where the mission house is located. No sales, no “Hey, Joe” pitch, just a sense of wonder about the gigantic white man who’s out with a group of other missionaries.

We arrived at the airport in Minneapolis after a 0100 wake-up at home and flew to Miami. Our group shared it’s first “on the road” meal and I had a really good steak at the airport. When we landed at Port-au-Prince airport we were greeted by a band playing at the new airport. The old one largely fell down after the earthquake in 2010. In 10 hours we’ve gone from 25 to 90 degrees. I’m in favor of the shift.

We were loaded into what I would call a “Paddy Wagon” in my youth, but the Haitians call it a “Tap Tap” for the noise you make when you want to get off. In our case it’s a steel cage mounted on a truck bed. We piled in with our luggage and headed off for the compound where we would be staying for the next 8 days. This rolling cage full of white people gathered a lot of stares and cries of “Hey, You!” from the local kids. Seems that Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children (The United States Marine Corps to the rest of you) got that one rolling when they descended on Haiti in the middle of the last decade to aid in the transition of power. Don’t ever let the Marines tell you they don’t leave a mark on everything they touch. I thought it was great and could just imagine the sweaty guys clad in green yelling that at the kids and them yelling it right back. Tickled my funny bone.

One of our first things to do was to start loading up on fluids. Dehydration can really bite you when you’re coming from snow country to the tropical heat. The second thing was to eat dinner. Our house (kind of an apartment/home hybrid) served all the meals family style. The Haitian kitchen staff were a delightful group of women who made sure we had lots of great food to eat at every meal. The love and concern was palpable. And delicious!

Once our walk around the block was complete we started to unpack the luggage. Everyone on the trip put their clothes and vital medications into their carry-on and we used the checked luggage to carry down assorted supplies for the mission and other charities that they work with in Haiti. I had to laugh as we sorted out all the supplies and stacked them. In the bags were 72 cans of Spam that I’d brought along. Not for a snack, but to supply the meals program of another outfit. The bags also contained medical supplies, soap, lotions, snacks (for us – no lunch, we’d eat Cliff bars and such while we were out working instead of a hot meal) and who knows what.

All of the supplies were bought by the mission team as individuals. There was no “you will purchase that”, we all just took responsibility for some items off the list we were given and purchased them to take along. Maybe that’s what makes a missionary – the ability to see a need outside of yourself. As we knelt on the floor and sorted out the supplies it was obvious that a lot of love was in those bags.

With the luggage emptied, the snack cupboard filled up, and the supplies stacked neatly in piles for their final destinations we gathered in the living room to look at pictures our photographer had taken on an earlier trip to Haiti. It gave us just a little taste of what we would be doing in the next week.

We were all exhausted but it was only about eight in the evening. Too soon for bed. I broke out my nebulizer and treated my asthma one last time.

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I didn’t know it at the time but the hot climate would put an end to a 6 week bout of cold weather asthma that had been kicking my backside.

And it was an incredible week. I cannot say enough about the wonders of God’s love we saw there. But I will attest that asthma stands no chance when you’re doing God’s work.

As usual, there are some pictures for you to look at. I love Haiti. I hope you can see that in the pictures. You will note that we smiled an awful lot. That’s called a blessing. In response to your unasked question – yes, why there are a lot of pictures of me! How nice of you to notice. I love the photos of the children, but the ones of me evoke personal memories and I hope you don’t mind my living them again while I assemble the galleries.

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