Sunday, February 22, 2009

Home again, home again

We're back in the US for a good solid month before returning to Haiti again in April. What I most look forward to: sleeping in my own bed, playing with my dog, eating my wife's cooking, sitting in padded chairs.

It was another great trip. I was going through some of my images and came across this gem, part of a larger project on a poor house in a small town in Northwest Haiti. I've always had a thing for guys smoking, not sure why, maybe a vicarious rebellion thing.

Poorism


Above: Children watch American missionaries drill a well in Salines Mayette, Haiti. Andy Olsen / NWHCM staff

Sometimes, an age-old concept gets a new name, and people start talking about it as if someone had just invented water.

In recent years, "poorism" – traveling cross-culturally to see abject poverty in person – has been the subject of much debate in some circles. Though it's a stretch to say poorism is booming, and hardly anyone is making much money at it, the idea has sparked a fledgling industry.

According to an excellent Smithsonian article, organizations are putting together tours in places like Mumbai and Rio de Janiero to open the eyes of people who, apparently, want to have their eyes opened. And I would add that missions and development organizations have been doing this for decades, though with overt not-for-profit aims.

Poorism's critics say that it dehumanizes the poor, exploits them for a profit, and is outright voyeuristic. They're right, really - at least if the whole exercise does not rise above mere sightseeing.

There is nothing new about wealthy folk wanting to step outside their socioeconomic comfort zones. Compassion International's Meredith Dunn muses in an insightful blog entry that while Christ's disciples, many of whom were well-off men with established positions in their communities, certainly followed Christ because of who He was, they might also have been intrigued by a man who was taking them to see huddled masses of Judea's poorest and most destitute.

Indeed, there seems to be a God-created appetite for adventure that is always calling us to hard places where people or things challenge our own status quo. There is something spiritual about it, something enlightening, something eternal. It is the best explanation I can think of for the success of National Geographic, the Olympics and, dare I say it, missions trips.

I have to believe it is a good desire. And I also have to believe that in modern times, it is a healthy one. If the trend of poorism is an early indication that the world's wealthy minority are awakening to the fate of the poor majority, and in fact are growing uncomfortable enough with income disparity that they want to see it for themselves, then surely we must say that demand for poorism is a positive thing.

But like any God-given desire, we have to temper it with love, mercy, intellect and self-control. If not, poorism becomes nothing more than a safari where animals are replaced by humans.

Perhaps at least one key to tempering that desire is relationship. As an organization that brings hundreds of "tourists" to Haiti every year, my employer strives to turn poorism experiences into transformational relationships between people, churches and communities. We want Americans to see Haiti for what it is and to be shocked by it, but we never want to leave their experiences at that. We want visitors to act, and we want to see the people and communities we serve free from whatever holds them down.

Without relationship, I don't know how that can happen. Even if admission is charged and tour fees are collected and 100 percent of profits are donated to the poor, the entire exchange seems to boil down to little more than a zoo agreement: You pay us to see them, and we'll make sure they are fed. The problem with a zoo is that the animals still live in cages, just really nice ones. No one gains freedom in a zoo.

To be sure, missions all over the world struggle to facilitate relationships perfectly. I've painfully observed plenty of travelers taking photos when it was not appropriate or humanizing to do so - and I confess I have been guilty of it myself on a few occasions. I've seen some who were clearly not interested in relationships, just an entertaining bus ride.

And I've observed that in Haiti, nationals are most reluctant to be photographed in cities that have had the most contact with foreigners. Perhaps that is because Haitians sense the risks of poorism, too - they know that a shutterbug is taking something from them with no intention of giving anything in return.

If there is anything to learn as we watch the growth in poorism in coming years, it's that curiosity and conviction alone are not enough to change the world. There must be something deeper - much deeper - accompanying it. That something will probably involve a lot of hard work, thought, and intentional interaction.

Isn't that what Christ was trying to teach His disciples as they shuffled along dusty streets themselves, engaging in a little poorism of their own?

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Heroes

It's easy to idolize medical professionals, especially in international relief work. And it's understandable: They have arguably the most tangible connection with the poor, the sick and the marginalized, and their work produces the most immediate results in those people. Bodies are healed, lives are saved.

We must be careful not to put hands-on service on a pedestal above other forms of ministry, just as we must be careful not to heap superstar status on any Christian who occupies a prominent position in teaching, evangelism or pastoral work.

That said, I love hanging with medical folks. They do amazing work, they always have great stories, and they tend to lead me to interesting photos.

The patients who come to our clinic often encapsulate all the harsh realities of life in Haiti. Our doctors and nurses do what they can, but sometimes treatment seems like a Band-Aid because the conditions that led to their ailment have not changed. I think I speak for everyone at NWHCM when I say that if we had the resources to change those conditions, we would. But unfortunately, we do not. So for now we move on, helping where we're able and entrusting God with the rest.

This past week, I met two people whose stories moved me and also made me feel helpless. In each case, the staff treated them as best they could and also did something perhaps even more powerful: befriended them. This is where the heroism of medicine lies for me - not in treating a patient, but in suffering alongside the patient and loving them, believing that their life is in greater hands than those of some doctor or nurse, even when that life slips away.

I'll just post cutlines here. For more background, please check out the wonderful blog maintained by Melissa Curtice, NWHCM's assistant medical director.



Above: Jesner Fragilis, 36, holds his 13-month-old daughter, Cassandra, in a recovery room at Northwest Haiti Christian Mission. Jesner is HIV positive, as was his first wife, who died of AIDS nearly five years ago. One of his sons died a few months later. Cassandra is being treated at the clinic for pneumonia and double ear infections. She is most likely HIV positive. Jesner's current wife is sick in Port-au-Prince, leaving the unemployed father to care for three children on his own. Shot Monday, February 9, 2009. Andy Olsen / NWHCM Staff



Above: NWHCM medical staff Maureen Moore, Melissa Curtice, and Vickie Cox pray with Widley, 6, and his mother. Widley is at the Centre Medical Beraca, a hospital in La Pointe (near Saint Louis du Nord), suffering from a probable intestinal obstruction. His belly is swollen and he will likely die without surgery. Missionaries affiliated with the hospital say there are no pediatric surgeons in Haiti, and there are no doctors at the hospital willing to operate on such a young child. Shot Friday, February 13, 2009. Andy Olsen / NWHCM Staff

Monday, February 9, 2009

Wet

Staying Dry


It's rained here in Saint Louis for nearly a week straight. Not just a drizzle, but windy, blowy, heavy, cut-it-like-Jello rainy. Cabin fever sets in quickly down here...

This is not like Seattle, after all, where life goes on despite the rain. Rain is like an emergency brake in Haiti - everything stops. Roads turn liquid, rivers turn deadly.

At least there's time to blog.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Generators and God's Pleasure

Eric Liddel - the Olympic gold medalist and runner and one of the most quoted athletes in Christendom - once said that God "made me fast. When I run, I feel God's pleasure."

Today, I watched another guy by the name of Chuck Graham lead a team of men from Kentucky as they moved two 150 kW diesel generators (machines about the size of a car) from a truck and down into a tiny room built to hold them. It was loud, tedious, strenuous, and (financially) risky work.

But Chuck - a diesel mechanic with an artificially-ruff facade who's been helping at this mission for years - managed to laugh the whole way through. There was a sense among the men surrounding him that they were working with something of a legend.

I was reminded that, in a way similar to Liddel, God made Chuck good with big, complicated, dirty machines. And when he works on them, he feels God's pleasure.

What else would keep a guy like him coming back to Haiti four times a year?

If a man could be ordained in a tool shop and anointed with axle grease, it would be Chuck. I guess saints come in all shapes and sizes.

Below: Chuck waving a generator into place

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Soccer

This country is a mass of pent-up emotional pressure. Like a big dusty water balloon, it bulges and stretches depending on how it's squeezed.

At soccer games, sometimes the balloon pops.

We went to a match today in Saint Louis du Nord between the home team and Cap Haitian. Saint Louis took the lead in the second half, scoring the first goal of the game and loosing a horde of fans to rush the field. A few minutes later, a section of rickety wooden bleachers collapsed and four levels of people - hundreds of people - crashed to the ground.

Stretchers appeared and disappeared with people on them. About 20 people came to our mission clinic, roughly a half mile away, with broken bones and detached noses.

The game stopped for a few minutes but picked up again, and Saint Louis won. People rushed the field again and kicked off a party that will probably last for a couple of days.

Our mission medical staff - especially our national team - was phenomenal. They worked quickly and efficiently, treating those they could and transporting others to outlying hospitals.

In Haiti, even at a soccer game - one of the only places you can go to let it all out and forget about life - you just can't get a break.

A few images from the day:

Below:

1) Children who snuck in to see the game, and some who just snuck a peek
2) The victory celebration, with players riding shoulders
3) Treating the collapse victims at the NWHCM clinic





Sunday, February 1, 2009

Super Bowl, Super Ice, Super Milk

Thursday, I spent about an hour chipping more than an inch of ice off my car.

On Friday, I landed in Port-au-Prince and the temperature was 85 degrees.

Today, I watched the Super Bowl on a big-screen TV in a country with almost no electricity, while some of my friends back home were still waiting for their power to be restored after a winter storm wiped out their power.

Go figure.

We're back in Haiti for three weeks. This first week we'll be involved in a staff retreat at the mission that we're really excited about, something Erika's worked incredibly hard to orchestrate.

After the retreat, I'll be shooting some projects and dabbling in some video production.

It's so good to be here with some great friends on the staff here, always a source of strength and encouragement for us.

Below:

NWHCM staff gave out PediaSure after church on Sunday to needy community members in Saint Louis du Nord, Haiti.

Matt Jump (missionary and sports fan to an unhealthy degree) and our Super Bowl party.