New Friends

Swerving through the streets. Bags of rice strapped to the back of the moto and gallons of oil in front of Jud between the handlebars. We are quite a sight. Back to Jacques to put together the little food kits. Each bag has rice, beans, bouillon, tomato paste, and oil which are the basic supplies for cooking here. 

There is a gang near the "airport" and they block the road with trees and wire and rocks so the trucks full of Blan have to stop and then they steal the food. I don't want any problems for our medical group that is coming on Wednesday so I decide it is smart for a well timed gift. 

We give food to each house. These people are more grateful than anyone I've met so far. They hold their bags of rice so close and thank us over and over. They say everyone passes by them to go to the village and they thought they were forgotten. I give a bag of food to a woman in front of her house with no roof and a man is behind her working to clean her yard. He grabs my hand and tells me to come see his house. I follow behind him. He is handicapped and is unable to walk correctly. We walk to his "home." It is just a pile of rubble with some of the frame barely standing. He is left with nothing. He and his wife sleep at different friends houses on their floors. I ask if i can take a picture of him and his house. He stands proudly in front of it holding his machete. 

I don't know how he will ever recover. I give him the food and we go on our way. 

I end up talking to a big group of men and find out most of them are the men causing the trouble. Perfect. I tease them and give some of them food. An older man jerks the food out of my hands and starts leaving. I yell at him and tell him this is the reason no one wants to stop to help. I jerk the food back out of his hands and he is angry and telling me he'll take it back. I grab him and snuggle him in a hug and kiss the top of his head. Everyone is in an uproar and he is too. They decide they like me. I ream them out for stealing and tell them they better not stop our truck full of blan. They say they won't and all is peaceful. They ask me to visit again. I think I will.

...

Papa Dieudonne is in town. I've just arrived from giving food and it starts to pour. It's windy and raining buckets. We put buckets under the places where the water is falling the hardest. Corners in the tarp and various pieces of tin. Above my tent is a tarp and the water is filling it. It's ripping and if it falls everything in this room will be soaked. I climb up on the roof and inch my way out to scoop the water. I fill a huge barrel and start filling another. Clanide is trying to cook with a blanket over her head. Climee yells with joy at this great adventure. I try to tie things down as best I can for Papa Dieudonne. We sop up the water with a towel and wring it out over and over again as it inches its way closer and closer to my tent. We move their bed to where the water doesn't fall in it as hard. The rain is relentless. I hope everyone is finding cover. We use every bucket to catch water. Papa arrives later and looks around his house. He tells me if I wasn't here he would be discouraged and sad. He said with me here he feels like he has someone behind him, someone here for him. He said I am here sharing his misery and making them laugh. I'm happy to know I mean as much to him as he does to me. I really think the world of my Haitian Papa.

Picture from this morning after I emptied the tarp twice.