The People in the Middle
By Cindy Hurston
Read on Facebook this morning about a great seafood restaurant with a special on garlic butter soaked crabs, only $22.00 for two dozen. I can't seem to wrap my mind around this. I am ruined, I think; ruined by disaster and suffering. Was it only a month ago that I was in post-earthquake Haiti?
We had gotten up early in the morning; easy to do with the rooster crowing since predawn. There were so many mosquitoes in my tent; it looked like a miniature airport. We enjoyed my favorite, bananas and coffee for breakfast.
Then we met two friends from the village of Neply, a small fishing village on the Leogane Plain, Haiti. Ti Blanc (Little White) had been in my Sunday school class twenty-seven years ago, in the mission by the sea. He remembered the amazing eighteen months we spent together in what we now call, "the good ol' days". I delivered Guinel in his mother's mud hut twenty-six years ago. When I found him again after all this time, I had told him "Ou te fet nan men mwen". "You were born into my hands." To this he responded,"Mama!" and gave me a bear hug. So cool to be working together with these two after all this time. We had a special mission; to visit the "people in the middle".
The "people in the middle" are what we call the community that has sprung up on the median of one of the world's most congested and dangerous stretches of road in Carrefour, Haiti. Since the earthquake, we had taken notice of these displaced people who had constructed crude dwellings with sticks, sheets of tin roof, tarps and stones. But why were they set up in the middle of the road? Twenty-four seven there is dangerous traffic plowing by on both sides of their homes. If the children take three steps from their bed, they would be run over! Diesel fumes pollute the air and clouds of dust turn everything an ashen grey.
Our mission that day: to meet with every family living in the middle. We want to know their stories. Why are they there? What happened to them, during and after the earthquake? What are their most urgent needs? We will listen to their stories, pray with them, and give out food and supplies until we run out.
After filling the back of Guinel's pick up with the cases of food and other supplies, we parked it on the side of the road paralleling the community in the middle. After a quick prayer, we split into two teams, and began meeting the people. We had a list of questions for each family, but the responses were repeated over and over so many times that we stopped asking. Yes, they had lost their home in the earthquake. Yes, they lost family members. No, they had not been receiving any help. No, they had no where else to go and no plan for the future. Yes, they were hungry.
We met a 12 day old baby boy and his nineteen year old mother. She had given birth by cesarean at the local hospital and then taken her baby to live under a sheet in the middle of the road. Then we met the six month old baby, born on that fateful day, January 12, 2010. His father named him, "Catastrophe".
Every family had their own space. Some were as small as five feet wide. The heat was intense; like being in a solar cooker. There was no source of water, or proper place for a toilet. Clothes hung from ropes and the floors were dirt.
The gentle people invited us into their tent-like homes and urged us to sit on their beds. There was no room for chairs. One lady told us that she and her children had not eaten in three days. "Well Mama", I said, "Start cooking. You will eat well tonight." Tears slipped down behind my sunglasses. We gave her and all the others, a package of fortified rice and chicken mixture, guaranteed to ward off malnutrition and soothe hunger pains, at least for one day.
By the end of four hours we had distributed 360 food packs (each serves 6) and about 100 disaster kits. As we went "house to house", we prayed for each family and tried to encourage them; told them they were not forgotten, that God loves them, that we would try to find more help for them. We tasted their suffering. We were informed that a couple of children have died already, after being struck by passing vehicles.
We had underestimated the number of families living on this median. Sadly, we ran out of supplies 90 dwellings short. We told them that we would return to help them soon. I felt more tears behind my sunglasses.. The need is so great. We are so little. I know I am not done crying... Think I'll pass on the seafood special.