Please Tell Me We are Riding in that Crazy Truck!

(Continued from “True Unknown”)

Our host Jim and a flock of porters lead us through the parking area and into an adjacent lot.  That is when we saw it...the “Tap-Tap.”

Photo by Matt Parks

Yes, this amazing machine was our ride!  A modified box truck outfitted with the finest amenities: hand rails, bench seating, a locking door, and ample storage.  This thing had it all!  

The name “tap-tap” is taken from an inexpensive, dangerous, yet quite entrepreneurial method of transportation used throughout Haiti.  Say some guys what to earn money and are the proud owners of a broken down pick-up truck.  They get it running, paint it with the loudest colors possible, and start running a route.  One guy drives, while the other sits in the back and collects money.  Transportation innovation!  

Passengers pay the quarter fare and load in the back.  Once the bed is filled to well beyond capacity, they roll out.  When a customer sees his destination, he “tap-taps” on the side and is let off.  What’s the catch?  This isn’t exactly a safe practice.  Most trucks are mechanically flawed and driven like race cars.  We saw one so packed that people were barely able to stand on the tailgate.  To us, it was crude and insane.  To them, it works.  As they say, “T.I.H.” (This is Haiti)!

Our tap-tap was clearly not of the authentic variety, but the concept is there.  We loaded both luggage and traveler and headed northwest through Port-au-Prince.  

The scene was difficult to bear.  Many people worked the streets trying to sell anything they could.  Some men loaded rubble into trucks while others slept in filth. The sides of buildings might as well been public bathrooms.  There were a lot of tent cities, some stretched farther then I could see.  

Everywhere we looked the mood was desperate.  We rode through the streets as tourists, viewing this human tragedy through a metal screen.  There were no tourists on the street though, just Haitians.  The state of tourism reflected the state of the economy, desolate.  We got a few smiles and waves from people but they mostly looked at us like we had no idea how they live.  They were right.  I don’t think any of us ever witnessed anything quite like it.

Cabin Pressure
Photo by Matt Parks

Legit Tap-Tap
Photo by Matt Parks

Peaceful Street
Photo by Matt Parks

Shoe Store
Photo by Matt Parks

Street Mechanic
Photo by Matt Parks

Rush Hour
Photo by Matt Parks

Thankful for a Stop Light
Photo by Matt Parks

Everyday Life
Photo by Matt Parks

Bath Tub
Photo by Matt Parks

My House is Your House
Photo by Matt Parks

Home is Where the Heart Is
Photo by Matt Parks

Coming Soon...

"One for the Bucket List"

???Take Time To Think???

Where have you encountered poverty?

**Share your thoughts in the comment section below**

True Unknown

(Continued from “An Airport Named INSANITY!!!!”)

The scene outside the airport was surreal.  A fractured street run parallel to the fenced-in sidewalk and was packed with pedestrians, loud vehicles, and a few farm animals.  People rushed the fence and began yelling at us in Creole.  The porters behind us pushed while porters in front hurried us along.  The humid air bound diesel exhaust to dust and stuck like paste inside my nostrils.  It was hot, but I was thankful for overcast skies and a steady breeze.  

I had no idea what was going to happen at the end of the sidewalk.  Were we going to get robbed?  Mobbed?  Kidnapped?  Were they going to make us get in a seedy van and take us away?  Would they steal our luggage?  Our fate was truly unknown.  I was in charge and didn’t know what to do.  My heart pounded, adrenaline flowed, and mind race.  The only option was to pray:

“Lord, I don’t know what to do here.  I don’t know where this will end.  Please keep us safe and please help me to know what to do.”

My first though was to stay behind the fence as long as possible.  

I said to the kids, “Walk slow.”  

My brain processed information as fast as I could download it. “I have seven kids and they are OK.  I don’t know where anyone else is.  I don’t know what our host looks like, but he is an American named Jim and is wearing a blue shirt and red hat.  We are surrounded by five porters that are annoyed by us walking slow.  Mountains. Huh. There are some pretty cool mountains here!”  

The walkway ended at a parking lot.  By parking lot I mean a mess of cars, everyone honking and wanting to drive in his own direction.  There were people everywhere, I didn’t see our host, and had no idea who was friendly and who wasn’t.  The porters brought us over to a covered area and held out their hands.  It quickly dawned on me, “These guys weren’t going to hurt us.  They just want money.”

I knew they weren’t leaving until they got paid.  If they didn’t leave, they would continue fending off the other people coming at us for money.  The tables had turned.  “These guys work FOR me!  I am the Boss Man,” as they called me.  As long as I held the cash, I called the shots.  I wanted to keep them around as long as possible,  So I began stalling:

“This is a beautiful country!  I didn’t expect it to be like this.  The mountains and ocean are beautiful!” 

“Thank you,” they said.  “We love our country.” 

This sweet talk bought me a little time; time enough for me to plan my next move.  The lead porter finally said, 

“OK, you pay us now.”  

“First, let me use your phone,” I asked.  

Ours didn’t work so I needed to use a locals.  He handed it over and I called the place we were staying.  Thank the Lord an American, named Aaron answered!  

“DUDE!!!!,” I said.  What is going on?  Where in the world is our guy?”   

“They are either there or will be soon,” he said.  

I felt a lot better after that conversation and agreed to pay the men.  They wanted $40 but I negotiated down to $20.  They took it and went on their way.  

The kids stick close to me, as we were on our own once again.  People continued to approach us, but by now I was much more forceful in my rejections.  I was becoming stronger, more confident.  Every minute I learned as much as I could have in a semester of college.  God answered my prayer.  We were going to make it.  

Time passed and another guy came up to us.  He asked who we were looking for.  I told him “Jim” and he said he knew him.  “Yeah right,” I though, and blew him off.  Five minutes later he returned...with Jim!  I couldn’t believe it.  He made good on his word.  Maybe these people weren’t savage kidnappers after all.  Maybe they were just people trying to earn a living any way they could.  Maybe they were God’s people.  Maybe they were my people.   

The guy who helped us was Wilbur.  I made quick friends with him and he helped us the rest of our time at the airport.  His tip was the best $4 I ever spent!  We waited with Jim until the rest of our group made it out to us.  

I landed at PAP International one person, and walked away another.  God used this trial to teach me that I can handle stress, and that people aren’t as evil as I though they were.  He also taught me that He will be there for me, no matter what.  I was exhausted but amped, thankful to have passed the test.  I couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. 

Get Me Outta Here!Photo by Matt Parks

Sea of Humanity
Photo by Matt Parks

Look! Americans!
Photo by Matt Parks

Wilbur - Helpin' a Brotha' Out!
Photo by Matt Parks

Coming Soon...

Please Tell Me We are Riding in that Crazy Truck!

???Take Time To Think???

When have you called on God to help you during a crisis?

 **Share your thoughts in the comment section below**

An Airport Named INSANITY!!!!

(Continued from “The Approach Trail”)

As we boarded the plane I encountered something I didn’t expect.  We were the only “tourists” on the flight.  Everyone else was was Haitian.  That made us the minority, the outsiders.  We were the one’s who didn’t look, act, and speak like everyone else.  I never experienced that before.  It was intimidating and uncomfortable, but it was good.  I felt a little of what some people in my own country feel everyday.    

The plane touched down in Port-Au-Prince, and it was “game on.”  The airport was nuts!  We tried to keep everyone together but it was impossible.  Crowds from other flights interlaced as we converged on the main terminal.  I could see pieces of our group here and there, but couldn’t communicate with them.  The noise, heat, and dust added to the chaos.  Some people peacefully stood in line, while others muscled their way past me.  All I could do is hang tight and move toward customs.  

Past customs was a pile of unorganized luggage surrounded by a crowd, each person jostling for better position.  I boxed out a collection point on the periphery while a few students rounded up bags.  We made a little progress but quickly began clogging the walkway.  Airport security wasn’t happy with this and kept yelling at me to move.  Most of our group wasn’t though customs yet, so I did my best to move us aside and buy time.

Talk about stress!  Everything happened so fast and I couldn’t control any of it.  I was told several times prior that the airport would be crazy, but nothing could prepare me for it.  I knew we had to move some of our people, so I said to another leader,

“I’m going to take some kids and their luggage outside.”  

“What’s out there”? she asked.

“ HAITI”!!!!, I replied.  (The other leaders later coined this the Adam quote of the trip!) 

       We breeched the doors and were immediately swarmed by a gang of porters.  I quickly looked for a place to hold up and wait for the others, but security was right behind yelling, “KEEP MOVING!”  The porters looked somewhat official, but I knew they didn’t work for the airport.  They hurried us down a ramp onto a fenced-in sidewalk.  Several men were grabbing for my bag, to which I kept repeating, NO, MESI!, NO, MESI!! (No, thank you).  We walked about 50 yards down the sidewalk when I said, “Forget this!  We’re going back!” My heart leapt to my throat when the kids replied, “But they already took our bags!!!”  

     We were committed.  I knew we couldn’t abandon the bags as we would probably never see them again.  We had no choice but to trust these guys.  So I turned down the walkway, took a deep breath and said, “Lets do it”!

UGH!!
Photo by Matt Parks

Game FacePhoto by Matt Parks

Nervous Chatter
Photo by Matt Parks

Coming Soon...

True Unknown 

The Approach Trail

(Continued from “The Haiti Experience”)

...As I fought to stay on the road, my thoughts raced back to the beginning of this journey.  

It was February, and our youth group was serving in Philadelphia.  This was a mini mission, a test drive to determine if we might consider the more intensive summer trips.  After riding a bumpy school bus, sleeping on a cold floor, and sharing a room with about 50 other guys, I though, “Who wouldn’t want to do this for an entire week?!”

We experienced some of the discomforts the less fortunate face, which was the purpose of that mission.  I had a great time and was eager to do it again this summer.  The question was, “Where would I go?”  There were five trips to choose from and the two that stood out to me were New York City and Haiti.

NYC was appealing.  It was close to home, required less preparation, and would barely skirt the limits of my comfort zone.  Being new to youth leadership and inexperienced with missions, it seemed right where I needed to be.  Haiti on the other hand was miles from comfortable.  It required passports, immunizations, signing hold harmless agreements in case of kidnapping or death, extreme heat, and immersion in a culture I knew nothing about.  It took many prayers, but in the end the decision was clear.  It had to be Haiti.  

  The application process was tough.  Our missions staff is selective and they only want to take the most committed.  I showed commitment in Philly, but after weeks of no response, I questioned weather or not I was going anywhere.  Was I too new and had to put in more time?  Was I as committed as my peers?  Their answer finally came and they decided to give me a chance. 

My acceptance came late, and I only had a week to write my support letters. It took several late night grinds, but I got them out on time.  Writing those letters was enjoyable.  I was able to reconnect with friends and family whom I haven seen in years, which made for a nice reunion.  

The next several months were spent training and preparing.  We held team building exercises, cultural training sessions, memorized scripture, and wrote our testimonies.  I had the added responsibility of coordinating Vacation Bible School (VBS), something I had never done. That was stressful.  I was a rookie in charge of a veterans project and knew I had to come through.  I continued to press forward and developed the best program I could.  

Back to present day.  The storm I faced was massive!  It reminded me of those I encountered while living in Orlando, the lightning capital of the US.  The drive to church normally takes 30 minutes, but that morning it felt like hours.  After much windshield focused, white knuckle driving, I rolled into the church parking lot, thankful to be in one piece.  As soon as I parked the rain quit and the storm passed.  

Everyone arrived and we loaded a bus bound for Kennedy airport in NYC.  That ride was pretty fun.  High schoolers love to sing, be loud, and act crazy on road trips.  At first I was annoyed, but soon succumbed to their infectious energy.  We sang songs, told jokes, and got truckers to honk their horns.  

We were on our way.  Eight adult leaders and 36 kids had embarked on trip of a lifetime!  

In Awe of the Apple
Photo by Matt Parks

Coming Soon...

An Airport Named INSANITY!!!!

The Haiti Experience

Haiti Journal Entry

Friday July 8, 2011 1:46AM

Lebanon, PA

So here I am, Lord.  I am as ready as I can be.  I have prepared as much as I can prepare.  I am trying to maintain a positive attitude after maybe an hour or two of sleep.  I pray for strength in my body and heart.  I pray for sharpness of my mind.  Thank You for this opportunity.  You have brought me so far in such a short amount of time.  Now it is time to test my faith, once again.  It is time to step out into the unknown and trust You will be there.  Please keep our spirits high.  Please keep us healthy.  Please allow us to be your disciples.  Amen...

Twenty minutes later...KAAAHHHBOOOOMMM!!!!!  A lightning bolt crashed into the earth a few miles from me and unleashed an echo of thunder that rattled my car.  Thirty seconds later...torrential rain.  “WHAT IS THIS?!,” I though to myself.  “How can the weather go from total clam to a violent lightning storm in only the few minutes?!”  I had barely made it out of my neighborhood and was already facing intense opposition.  I am sleep deprived, lightning is hitting the ground fairly close to me, and I can’t see more then a few feet in front of my car.  Right then I knew this trip was going to be epic!