• I'm sure most of you have heard on the news about the food crisis in Haiti.  It is definitely effecting Ft. Liberte.  Here is a chart depicting the inflation of the price of food from 2004 to today.  

Items

2004

2006

2008

Rice

$220

$250

$400

Brown Sugar

$160

$200

$280

Beans

$290

$340

$460

Corn

$100

$110

$160

Oil

$150

$230

$350

Soap

$64

$74

$90

Dry Fish

$140

 

$210

Bulgur

$95

$100

$185

Flour

$190

$210

$390

Spaghetti

$60

 

$75

Macaroni

$45

$45

$47

Shoes

$80

 

$200

Fabric

$15

 

$40

Milk

$70

130

$140

White Sugar

$180

210

$290


  • On a recent trip to Haiti some people on the trip made a video of their experience.  Here is a link to that video.
  • Below are stories from recent trips to Ft. Liberte.

    Sarah Peyton
    When I think of this past trip to Haiti the image seared in my mind is of a little boy I encountered the second day I worked at the clinic.  The first day I worked in the clinic I assisted Trish by scribing patient information.  I was secretly relieved that I was not faced with ailments any more graphic than high blood pressure and the diagnosis of worms, as I wasn’t sure my stomach would be strong enough to handle “messy” issues.  The second day however, there were less people available and soon Riley Andrews and I were asked to help wash a little boy with scabies.
    I had done this before, 4 years before, on my first trip to Haiti and the experience wasn’t one I really desired to repeat.  You can tell yourself over and over how much good you’re doing the child by cleaning them, but that doesn’t make it any easier to listen to their cries as you wash them with cold water, pick at their scabs and put ointment on open wounds.  
    Riley led the Little Man, as we called him, out to the grass behind the clinic and I began to remove his clothes.  He had the biggest head full of braids which caused his shirt to get stuck, and when I bent down to ease it off I found myself regarded by big brown eyes.  It is these eyes I see when I close my own and think of Haiti.  All through the uncomfortable and painful process which is a scabies treatment, our Little Man stood perfectly still, never making a sound, just watching me.  When I went back an hour later to rinse him off he still never said anything but held my hand as I bathed him off and looked at me with eyes far too world-weary for a four-year-old, and yet shining through the weariness was trust.  After I had dried him off and put a clean t-shirt on him I received my most prized possession of the week – a glimmer of a smile that only lasted a blink of an eye.
    Other than the simple fact that my heart melted when I first looked into Little Man’s eyes, this experience humbled me a great deal.  You see, Haitians live a much harsher existence than many Americans can dream of and in conditions that often inspire feelings of hopelessness in those who would seek to make a difference and “fix” Haiti. You might hear of this trip and feel that with no medical training or construction experience you have no business going. Yet in truth all you need to go to Haiti is willing hands and a willing heart.  By simply being there you provide hope to a whole town of people and inspire trust in an even greater gift – Love.

    Daniel Peyton
    Good morning, my name is Daniel Peyton.  Some of you might know this because it’s a Haitian proverb we quote a lot, but it says, “The heart can’t feel what the eyes can’t see.”  While we were in Haiti we prayed a lot that when we came back we would be able to be the eyes for those who couldn’t go to Haiti, so that their hearts could still feel for it.  And this morning I am blessed by the Lord that I have this opportunity to do so and I pray that I will be able to do our experiences in Haiti justice.  This was my first trip to Haiti, and I can assure you it will not be my last.  The people there made such an impression on me that it will forever change my life.
    As a junior in high school I have been getting a lot of pressure about my future I have to start thinking about what colleges I want to look at and apply to.  But to pick colleges to look at it would help if I had an idea of what I wanted to do as a career.  It’s a lot to think about for a kid, and a lot to pray about.  Thinking through what careers I could possibly do that would be worthwhile to me, I kept feeling this pull towards missions.  I prayed a lot about it and talked to Ken and Kristin Thompson, missionaries to China from our church, and I knew that God was calling me to it.  After this trip to Haiti, my general call from God to missions became more specific to a call to Haiti, and I couldn’t be happier.  Now I can look at what careers I could choose that would be of most use to the people there.  Maybe a doctor so I could stay and work in the clinic for extended periods of time, or maybe some sort of agricultural engineer, I’m not sure yet, but I know that God will continue to answer my prayers and take me down the right path.
    My first impression of the country was of the litter and the dirt.  Garbage carpeted the ground and the dirt roads were in bad shape, but the countryside was beautiful with the mountains and overgrown fields of tall grass.  Despite the poverty I saw more smiles and happy children than I’ve seen in a while.  The children played in the streets and ran out to greet us.  I felt the pure joy of the children as they ran from person to person holding their hands and introducing themselves almost beside themselves with ecstasy.  At the work-site the children gathered before we arrived and stayed until we left.  Some clothed, some not, they couldn’t take their eyes off of us.  They were so excited at having the opportunity to have their picture taken with a digital camera so they could look at themselves.  They goofed off with funny poses and laughed so hard begging to have more pictures taken. “Blanco, Blanco” or “Gringo” they would say to get our attention.  The houses were mudded cinderblock with tin roofs and cactus fences.  Clothes were draped on fences and lines to dry.  Chickens and chickadees roam the streets along with the dogs.  The Haitians were so tickled when I attempted to use my limited French to speak to them.  They would look up from what they were doing to meet my eyes with a huge smile and laughter.  After that, they would go on and on in Creole thinking I understood them.  During the down times at the worksite, we got to play with the children.  A game that Allison started with one little girl quickly became a hilarious game of fifteen or so Haitian kids imitating her dancing.  Another fun thing we did with the kids was to attempt teaching them some English in exchange for some Creole.  Everywhere we went the kids would follow clinging to you and calling your name even when you’re hauling cinder block.
        It was so inspiring to see these people and the hope and joy they have despite living in poverty.  The church was bustling every single day starting with a prayer meeting at 4:30 in the morning followed by choir practice.  It was an awesome experience to wake up every morning to the beautiful voices of the Haitians singing praises to the Lord in Creole.  There were so many choirs; I don’t think I saw the same one twice.  Every night, there were church services with hours more of worshipping the Lord through song.
        One of the most memorable experiences I had was being the only blanco in attendance to their special New Years Eve church service.  They began worship hours before midnight and at exactly midnight everyone holds hands and begins to pray individual prayers out loud.  It was so cool to be there and just hear all these people talking with God about hopes for the New Year and their thanks for the past year.  Gradually people stop praying, and when the last person has finished their prayer, the congregation acknowledges the New Year and start it off with another praise song.  It was quite different than any other New Years celebration I’ve been too, and definitely the most meaningful.
        Even though we went on this trip to give to the Haitians with medicine and construction projects, I definitely felt like they gave just as much or more back to me with their Christ-like attitudes of love and their joy in the Lord that was so infectious.  Not one day has gone by since we returned to the United States when I haven’t wished I was back in Haiti.  You would think you would miss the internet and TV, and hot water, and electricity 24 hours a day, but you don’t.  I would give it up in an instant to return to Ft. Liberte.  I pray that some of you will have the opportunity to go to Haiti as we did and I promise you won’t be disappointed.  

    Kyle Chapman
    My last trip to Haiti started with a phone call the day after Christmas.  Someone’s passport had expired and suddenly the trip had an opening.  And I filled it.  About 15 minutes later I had packed and was on the road, hardly believing it was true.  I met my friend C.R. Rohrbough in Morgantown and we set out for Warrenton, VA, then Regan International, then Miami, then the DR, and then Ft Liberté, Haiti.
    On the voyage, I tried to ignore the voice of doubt within my own head.  “Last time was unique.  You can’t repeat the experience.  Don’t get your hopes up.”  On the last trip, I had worked with Les Enterline in the clinic, and it had literally changed my life.  I decided to pursue a career in medicine.  And now I’m going back, but with hardly any additional medical education.    
    As the time there unfolded, I visited the construction site some mornings and evenings.  The group I was with was building a house for a young boy and his family.  I met the boy, Johnny, last year when he came to me in the streets asking me to help his sick cousin.  His cousin had once had scabies, but the sores had been opened and infected again and again so that she couldn’t stand or sit without pain.  Johnny’s dedication and persistence in bringing her to the clinic daily and guiding her home bandaged like a mummy made a huge impact on the group last year.  So much so that when Pastor Andre told Les that Johnny’s family needed a house, it became next year’s construction project.  And true to form, Johnny was on the construction site from sunrise to sunset doing as much or more work than anybody else, and always with a smile.
    My time in the clinic was amazing.  I learned so much from the medical personnel, even though I’ve been told that most of the cases would be rare to see in a U.S. clinic.  There was one surgery where I started to get light-headed and had to take a quick break.  The next day in another surgery, Les grinned at me and said, “This is what I live for.”  And that’s when I knew.  I had repeated the experience.  It was the best trip I had ever been a part of.
    Now I’m back in Morgantown, studying for the MCAT.  It seems like Haiti is a different world, where Johnny and his family are enjoying a new house and a small clinic offers hope to a community.  When I struggle with studying glycosidic linkage or axon hillocks, I look at the pictures and know that it’s worth it.