Haiti: Johnson's Story

Finished working on the roof (which is different than "finished the roof"). When they measured the roof to purchase the material, they knew it came in 36" widths. And so they calculated (remembering to add a little, and also remembering we order "just in time" since there's no storage of materials nor money to buy ahead.) Material comes....and it's in 32" widths. Next day, they go back to the store to inquire. "The sheets are 36" wide. When we crimp them to make them corrugated roofing, it makes them 32" wide." "So can we buy some more?" "Yes, you may order some more--we have no more in stock." "How long will it take?" "2-3 months."

We came frustratingly close--only the very last strip remains to be put on. But--"it will be several months." Welcome to a world where you can't call or visit your local Home Depot.

So in need of a new assignment. Johnnie (on-site coordinator) and Fritzner confer. Johnnie informs me that Fritzner has said "he has the skill I need for building scaffolding." So that's my new assignment. Some of my greatest moments on these trips are when a local contractor says of me "he has the skill I need." Especially after he has worked with me and chooses to have me work with him again. And at the end of the day today, he told Johnnie to be sure to have me work with him again tomorrow morning--"I really need him." Sigh and smile.

After lunch, joined a small group going to Leogone, about a half hour west of here, and the epicenter of the quake. We had to pick up some deconstructed material that we'll use....to build the scaffolding, I think (which I will then probably have to go up--you build it, you climb it.) In between, a more rural, agricultural area. Natural beauty. Mountains in the background, sea in the foreground. Occasional small tent cities in between. At Leogone, more visual evidence of the destructive power of the quake. Reminded me of my visual memories of New Orleans post-Katrina. Nature is a powerful beast. And Nature will not be stopped, no matter how hard we may try. Also run into Big Baby, who has sort of been hiding out at the destroyed compound where we were picking up materials. So now I guess I could be a material witness if the police are still looking for him. (Sounds like a made-up novel? It isn't. I couldn't make this stuff up.)

There are two Johns on our team. The other one is referred to as "old John." (He is. Though not by much.)

I always collect stories on these trips, usually involving some of the local people that I meet and get to know over a period of days. Johnson is one of our security guards at the Grace Center. He was born in PAP, his family emigrated (illegally) to Oakland, California when he was an infant. He grew up a California boy. At age 22, he got into some sort of trouble. Since he was illegal, immediately deported to Haiti--where had never been in his life, didn't know the language, had no contacts or network. And when he arrived, immediately put into PAP jail (that's what they do to deportees when they arrive.) His father had divorced, his mother now lived in PAP, so he called her, she bailed him out. She took him to Grace church, and over time, he met a woman whom he married. They had two children--one about 5, one an infant. Had managed to have a house. The quake came, their house was destroyed, their infant child killed. They tried to rescue their 3 month old, but needed help to do it. And individuals were providing help.....for money. LIke $4,000. So they had to abandon him. They moved into the tent city at Grace, and Johnson provides security. He now provides a face to the stories I read about the U.S. deporting similarly situated children or denying them educational opportunities.

I'm feeling quite disconnected since we've left living at Grace Center. Yes, it's more physically comfortable. But it is so removed from the current reality of tent cities, displaced people living under incredibly challenging conditions. I feel as though I was beginning to get more of a picture of the current reality--and different from the picture I got Sunday night. And over time, I know that people talk to you differently than initially--I do, certainly. But I am cut off from them. The cost of comfort is sometimes higher than I would like.