From Calm to Crazy

This morning was so calm.  I attended the first Haitian worship service in which I understood most of what was going on.  That so rarely happens here that for the most part I just don’t go to church while I’m here.  Well, I had heard about a small church near the orphanage, and I wanted to attend.  Turns out, a friend of Gertrude’s that I know, Pedro, attends there.  It was so much easier to walk in knowing that I would see a familiar face.  I arrived at 7:30 because Pedro said the service ran from 7:30-10:30. 

Well, the 7:30 start was for Bible study.  Pedro directed me to the women’s group.  Bible study in Haiti is very different from Bible study in the U.S.  The leader lectures the group on a topic, and the group memorizes the subject, the 2-3 key points, and Bible verse.  Just like in school.  Everything is lecture and memorization.  Bible study lasted until about 8:40, and then something really interesting happened.  The pastor went up to the altar and began quizzing the different groups on what they had learned!  Each of the classes had to answer questions, and then the pastor had prizes (a pen or a notepad)to give out to people who could answer harder questions correctly.   Each group also did a collection, and the pastor announced which group brought in the most money.  After that, recognition was handed out to the groups for singing, guests, and two other things that I can’t remember right now. 

About 9:00 the worship leader stepped up and we began praying and singing.  The lady next to me had a Bible and song book, and I sorta peeked over so that I could read the verses and sing the songs.  It was pretty much the first time that I could actually participate in a worship service here.  I liked it.  About 10:00, the pastor went back up to the altar and introduced the guest speaker.  My guess is that typically the pastor would preach at that time. 

Pedro had asked me to stay after so that I could meet some people (the pastor being one of them).  While I waited, a number of people came up to me to say how happy they were to see me there and asked me whether I would be back.  Absolutely.  When Pedro introduced me to the pastor, I realized that I had already met him.  At the airport.  In August 2013.  He recognized me there because he had seen me driving my red motorcycle!  He had invited me to visit his church, but didn’t know where it had moved to.  Now I know!  The only “icky” part of the morning was the request for money.  I should’ve seen it coming.  Pedro and the pastor explained that they needed money to finish the building, buy a bit more land, etc.  They asked whether I could help them, maybe ask my church, get money from my friends. I made it clear, but that I made no promises!

Driving the tap tap!

The calm continued into lunch.  I chatted with Rachel for a while, spent time up on the roof working on my grad classes, came back down to chat with Rachel.  And then it was time for Rachel to head to the airport to meet her group and head off to Les Cayes with them.  And the crazy began!  Gertrude only had one driver, and she needed two.  I stepped up and offered to drive the tap tap.  At first she resisted, but I wore her down.  I headed out with Abby, Rachel, Esther (Rachel’s toddler), and Rosie in the back of the tap tap.  It was awesome!  Maybe I could move her and be a tap tap driver?  I discovered, though, that the front seat didn’t move back, and most Haitians are pretty short.  Shifting was an issue because my knees were in my armpits.  And Rachel’s bag only fell out once (not my fault . . . she put it near the back of the tap tap and wasn’t holding onto it).

Safe arrival at the airport

We got that run done and came back to the orphanage.  And, it was time to turn around and pick up a group of 24 that was staying here just for the night.  Gertrude wasn’t comfortable with me driving the tap tap with “real” people and their luggage in the back, so she found a driver from a friend to take us back to pick up the group.  After waiting for the group for over an hour, we finally saw them coming up with their piles of luggage (35 bags total).  The way the airport works is this: if any of the airport porters even touches your bad, he believes that he should be paid for his effort.  The group leader had hired one “boss man” to help his group, and the rest of the workers had to go to the “boss man” to get any money.  Oh, my gosh, the loud talking that ensued!  At least eight men were shouting and getting in each other’s faces about who should get money.  The “boss man” kept waving around a blue piece of paper proving that he had been hired as the “boss man,” which he had been.  The poor group members were standing with stupefied looks on their faces during all this.  We finally got all the people on Leonard’s green bus so that they could head back to the orphanage.  We stuffed only about half the bags in the tap tap.  I finally shouted that Abby would go back on the tap tap and that I would stay with the remaining bags until the tap tap could return (and, I actually said all this in Creole and was understood!).  Silence.  The men looked at me like “Hey, that’s a pretty good idea.” 

Luggage to be guarded

The tap tap drove off with Abby standing at the back making sure that no bags fell out.  I remained with the “boss man” and talked about how great he had handled the situation.  We are now friends; I even have his phone number so that if I need anything at the airport I can call him.  When the tap tap returned, we barely fit all the bags in!  I had to squish in the back with one leg straddling a bag, my butt on the bench, and my other leg sorta hanging out the back of the truck.  And I had to lean across the back of the truck to keep bags from falling out.  Craziness!