A couple weeks ago we flew to Haiti in a company of two – the Baron N74EM and volunteer pilots Chad and Angela Johnson flying their C210 N37DP.  DP flew Cowboy and water systems and EM flew Charles Stites and Jeremy Maddox of Able Flight.  The plan for the week was to give Cowboy an opportunity to recover from nearly two years of water system installations in Haiti since the earthquake by cleaning up systems and following up with previously installed systems.  Able Flight, a US organization devoted to providing scholarships and training to those with physical disabilities, planned to meet with Haiti Hospital Appeal who focuses particularly on patients with physical disabilities in Haiti. A special effort HHA makes is training and sponsoring paralympic teams from Haiti to represent the country in the worldwide games.  It’s incredible.  Charles and Jeremy got to spend the week with those at the hospital and did everything from racing the racing hand bikes, talking about training techniques and culminated to our last day when we got to take six patients up for local flights.  It was really beautiful.  It went seamlessly and was a great day for everyone.

The little girl I saw left such an impression on my heart that I wondered about the happiness we all felt when we got to go up in the planes, a special moment for anyone, not only someone who’s physically disabled in an impoverished country.  It was euphoric even.  Even with that feeling you still see the effects of poverty that has so many levels of tragedy.  It would be so much easier to only feel happiness but what I’ve been seeing is when we see realities we cannot begin to be connect to one another unless we feel, and feel deeply.  Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. (Bible, Romans 12:15) It is a rhythm to which we realize love.

peace.

*Pictures will soon reach

Cite Soleil is a dump. A pigsty. Footing is rancid muck at neap tide, and liquifacted bilge at the perigee. The stench will do for your appetite. Pigs thrive, but people look transient, the kids in tattered shirts, excoriated skin eruptions. 

The ramshackle structures had one advantage. Nothing much was lost in the eathhquake.

It’s a notoriously lawless place, violent, run by various thug outfits. There’s disproportionate mayhem, and the police don’t care to go in after dark. Women are at risk.

Open cook fires result in horrific burns, which fester untreated.

The hind end of it, on the bay, under the middle marker for the ILS for runway 10 (what the hell- add jet noise to the mix), is called derriere chabon, behind the charcoal.

The place is just chaos, entropy’s bitter end.

In Rick Freschette’s words, a fixer-upper.

He doesn’t seem to think like the rest of us.

Lives in hand, we took a mototaxi down to see what he’s doing down there.

He went down to confer with the gangsters he hired at shop rates to build his primary care clinic and hospital. The plan is to treat basic problems  here, and refer the sickest ones to St Luc’s. A standard hub and spoke system- it works better for medical care than air travel. 

He opened an internet cafe there, too, but it’s been slow going- the net company stiffed him, or at least didn’t fulfill the terms of the contract. Just advancing the concept surprised me- no water, no electricity, no solid structures:

Rick, what the hell are you doing setting up an internet cafe?

Well, how are they going to participate in the modern world, look at Craig’s list, submit a resume, get a job without net access?

Rick, they don’t even have pants.

Right, they’ll need to get those, too. Make a list.

A tough guy to argue with.

First, he  got it off the ground- literally. All that rubble in downtown Port? Just scooped it up, and lay it in Cite Soliel, and built on it. Dry feet.

The hospital will be pretty nice- open wards with enclosed bathrooms in the back, 

a throughway in the front, like the cholera hospital layout.

He used the gangsters to build the hospital and the adjacent residences. They’re not bad as builders, and the result compares well to the surround. They seem proud of it.

He visits them daily, talks things over (and counts the silverware, I suspect). It’s a vigorous discussion.

They come to some agreement, everybody representing. They connect with him.

Later, he wants to power it with solar panels (possible), truck in water (expensive) or build a water tower (very expensive), and lay out septic lines (Nah. This place couldn’t pass a perc test at gunpoint) or collect the honey pots with a very expensive truck.

Honey pots- what, they called in George Orwell to head up the department of obfuscatory monikers?

But you get the idea. 

Start with a completely naive assumption.

Everybody everywhere deserves a little dignity, something clean and decent in their lives- regardless of the setting.

Then pretend everything is normal, and try to make it so. 

In just a short time, this leads to surprising ideas.

I spent most of my time looking down, at the pigs and the filthy kids, at the amazing cluster of garbage and detritus at the water’s edge.

That’s a doctor’s view, I think- feet of clay. I looked at the bottom of this next picture, and asked why? Rick looked at the top half and asked why not? 

That’s what faith will do for you.

But when I looked up and squinted a bit- a process made easier by my lack of wraparound shades, which would have kept perilous quantities of grit and road dust out of my conjunctivae- when I looked up and squinted, I could sort of see what he was talking about.  

But first, let’s do the numbers.

20,000 patients came through St Luc’s this year. Some, “A” patients, where treatable with ORS alone. “B” and “C” patients also required Lactated Ringer’s, at $2.50 a bag, and an IV, or more likely 3-4 IV’s over 3-4 days, at a dollar fifty a pop. The NG tubes were free, since I stole them, but the intraosseous lines were high at $25 bucks each. Some of the C patients required 25 bags the first day-  the fluid shifts amaze me still. Combining all, each cholera patient averaged 20 bags of Ringer’s.

We poured it in, and they poured it out, down the drain.

It was hot, so we ran some fans. We fed some families, mostly MREs, but beans and rice, too- had to buy that.

All in, a million 5.

A coupla FIKI Cirrus.

A large load carried cheap, if you ask me.

But they don’t. At least, they don’t ask about that.

Haiti’s too depressing, too close to home, a failure in too many ways. You can’t look at it hard without feeling worse about yourself, all of us, about humanity.

We should blame them.

So when people ask “Is anything really getting better down there? Where did all that earthquake money go?” They don’t really want details.

They want confirmation of widespread corruption.

They want absolution- forgiveness- what we all want, in case we skip an important moral step as we cruise through our blessedly sunny lives, at a safe altitude, our heading on autopilot.

In case our way of life is somehow integrally related to this penury.

In case this Jungian sense of connection, always felt, and reinforced by the net and global smalling, is real, and we really are meant to be our brother’s keepers.

But Hell, I like people.

I skip moral steps all the time- and never more than since I started coming to Haiti, for some reason.

So I let them off the hook.

I tell them I think it all went down the drain.

Quite a bit of it did.”

Thursday we flew from Orlando in the Aztec to Nassau where Todd Ruopp and Katharine Zimmerman got to partner with the Bahamas Conference of the Methodist Church (BCMC) in strategic development, then flew to Eleuthera to drop off our load of building materials for BMH and paint for the Zion Children’s Home, where we were then met by three volunteers who we got to fly to Cat Island and back to Eleuthera for the night.  That was Thursday.  The reality is that with Cat Island being literally 52nm from Eleuthera, the flight time in the Aztec at 160 TAS is 25 minutes.  Without a plane like the Aztec or a personal boat, you have to rely on the commercial airlines which means going from Eleuthera to Nassau to Cat and round back around.  Takes nearly a full day.

Sarah Stewart has been involved with BMH for the last couple years and since graduating from UNC-Chapel Hill continued her involvement with Young Life, a US-based Christian ministry with the vision that every adolescent will have the opportunity to meet Jesus Christ and follow Him.  Sarah plans to move to Eleuthera in January for three years to establish a presence through Young Life to engage the youth on the island.  Friday we got to meet two representatives from Young Life as they were getting acquainted with the island and envisioning Sarah’s ministry on Eleuthera.  I’m very thankful for their efforts and intentions there and excited to see what all they get to do in the next three years.

Sunday we reversed the Eleuthera – Cat Island Shuttle getting to utilize the empty legs to Cat to transport more supplies for the roof rebuilding.  We transported nine volunteers in the morning before flying to Nassau to carry the Young Life representatives and pick up Katharine and Todd.  The eleven volunteers on Cat from Thursday evening to Sunday morning put on NINE roofs!  That’s almost one per volunteer and nine homes that wouldn’t had a roof that soon, if at all in the near future, had it not been for this team.

Rolls of felt paper for the roofs with Julian, Kennedy and Kendrick – 3/11 volunteers

It was productive and really saw the usefulness of the plane.  This Aztec is a F model with long-range tanks.  I was amazed that we flew from Orlando – Nassau (took on 20 gal) – Eleuthera – Cat – North Eleuthera without worrying about fuel quantity.  It flew 3 roundtrips from Eleuthera – Cat islandThe fun thing is to imagine if we had more pilots and planes – we could have done it more quickly and possibly transported more supplies!

-Notice that the backdrop of the picture is a shipping container converted into the office at the hospital. Sustainability rocks.-

Originally our plan for the week was to drop the load as we did, fly to Cap and meet up with the crew you see in the picture and we did that too, take two of them to Jeremie, Haiti for a health conference for 3 days, back to Port and then to the States.  The plan shifted at the Jeremie part as Dr. Tiffany had her bag stolen with her passport in it the night before we landed.  The next day we took her to Port from Cap so she could get her passport straight.  The conference was no more and we realized that there wasn’t a need for us any more.  TIH (This Is Haiti).  For the delivery of the orphanage’s supplies and being there for HVH, it was really productive especially with all the dynamics that always happen.

Port au Prince

Haitian breakfast is honestly delicious

“Mozzi Nets”

Saw 2/3 MFI DC3s in Cap Haitian – not an everyday sight

Village in the mud on right turnout from Cap, see them everytime

Haiti is really beautiful

Royal Caribbean thinks so too, on the other side of the mountain from the mud slum.  Economy, right?

Haiti Village Health‘s site, Bas Limbe.

In light of the Hurricane Irene relief efforts, we decided our time and resources would be better suited in the Bahamas.  Tuesday we flew to Governor’s Harbour and met BMH and settled in for the rest of the week.

The Bahamas are beautiful too

Cupid’s Cay of Governor’s Harbour, Eleuthera

James Cistern, Eleuthera (see all the tarps?)

We went to Cat Island to assess for week-long rotations of local volunteers from Eleuthera.  There we found a lot that needs to be done with many willing people.  The team of 10 from Eleuthera will be cleaning up and putting on roofs with supplies bought by the Bahamian government.  It will be a long, long road.  On the way back to Eleuthera, we stopped at Staniel Cay and of course had to go see the swimming pigs.

Staniel Cay swimming pigs

Learned the history that these pigs got put here by the pirates so that they would have food when they were sailing around the islands.  These pigs are ridiculous.  They’re like pirates themselves trying to get in the boat:

Everyone should go see these things.  I can’t stop laughing when I see them – mostly because I’m scared of them.

Neil made a run to Cat Island when another volunteer pilot, Ed Lippisch, flew supplies from Daytona Beach to Eleuthera and it was a big help too:

The next day we took off back for the States and Neil and I went back to where we are from.  I loved getting to spend time with our family in the Bahamas and Haiti both.  The hurricane relief effort will continue for a long while still and we are thankful for the local volunteers willing to go to the different islands for the rebuilding.  Thankful to Neil as well for his generosity and willingness to serve.

peace.

If one member suffers,

all suffer together;

If one member is honored,

all rejoice together.

-1 Corinthians 12:22

Love is a rhythm to the beat of this verse’s truth.  Love is bearing one another’s burdens.  It’s also rejoicing in times that are good.  Thankfully with God, not implying rainbows and sunshine, all is well always because we get to claim reconciliation and redemption amongst chaos and disaster.  So we celebrate that.

Yesterday is gone,

Tomorrow has not yet begun,

We have only today so let us begin.

-Momma T

peace.

After an early departure from Cullman, Ala., at 1:45 a.m. Central time Aug. 30, Jon Short, Cowboy (Brian Ferguson), and his crew rolled into Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport around 7 a.m. to be part of the Bahamas Habitat fly-out to different islands in the Bahamas. Cowboy and two volunteers will be working on Cat Island for a week, and Short is ferrying supplies in his Aztec. He flew several missions on Tuesday before clearing U.S. Customs about 7 p.m. in Fort Lauderdale. But that still wasn’t the end of his day, which was already pushing 16 hours. He had to get reloaded with supplies for Wednesday. (His mission isn’t scheduled for 1:45 a.m., so maybe he’ll catch a few extra winks.)

By mid-morning Tuesday, Cowboy and his two volunteers had already assessed many of the needs on Cat Island. We met up with them after clearing Bahamian customs on Great Exuma Island, which seemed to weather the storm with mainly damage to trees.

Cat Island, and particularly the Orange Creek area of the island, was hit hard. Much of the fencing in front of the FBO at Arthur’s Town Airport on the island was leveled. But that was minor. In some places, asphalt was washed off the roads like sheets of tar paper. Trees were twisted, and power lines were in the streets. Hurricane Irene’s storm surge washed through the back of one woman’s house, pushing her refrigerator out the front and across the street. Everything two feet and lower was ruined. She plans to move her furniture outside to let it dry. Cowboy said one of his team’s goals will be to help disinfect her house to prevent mold.

Annie Burrows, a janitor at the FBO at Arthur’s Town Airport, has been cleaning the airport facility and helping move relief supplies that are being flown in by Bahamas Habitat. She’s putting her needs last. Her house is still standing, but she lost everything. “I lay on the floor and keep the door open,” she says of living at home now. The water ruined her mattress and the lack of electricity makes being inside without a fan unbearable. Residents in Orange Creek should get power later this week or early next week, one local estimates.

After unloading half of the supplies from a Baron and Aztec at Cat Island (and stacking them in a truck and van, unloading the van where supplies will be sorted, and then reloading the van from another aircraft that had flown in), we wish Cowboy and his crew luck with the big task ahead and head to our next destination. We survey Long Island from the air and then fly to Governors Harbour on Eleuthera Island where Bahamas Habitat has a base camp.

A Piper PA-23-250 at Governors Harbour International Airport was ripped to shreds. The tiedown, chalks, and three 100-lb sandbags that were meant to hold it in place were still in their places. The aircraft, however, had flipped over the airport’s perimeter fence, both engines torn from the aircraft, and the fuselage cut in half behind the baggage door.

We should have known that would foretell the destruction we would soon see.

Bahamas Methodist Habitat Executive Director Abraham McIntyre and Rev. Kenya Lovell, minister for the Central Eleutheran Region of the Bahamas Conference of the Methodist Church, brought us to Cupid’s Cay near the airport while they continued to survey damage, assess needs, and hand out tarps. Trees, mattresses, and appliances were piled in between houses along the one-lane roads. A family worked to erect one side of a room that had collapsed. Another man sat on a downed telephone pole, his head down as he rested his elbows on his knees. But he paused for only a moment before getting back to work.

That’s how resilient all of the Bahamians have seemed on this trip.

Even Diana Demeritte, whose husband of seven years died in March and whose house was almost completely destroyed by Irene, is picking up and moving forward. She’s cleaning out her house, surviving with a makeshift plywood roof and a tarp, two gallons of clean water, and some nonperishable food. Amid the cleanup and heartbreak, she takes some time for herself—coloring her hair.

John Gaitor’s house was farther inland than Demeritte’s, but the shingles on his roof lifted, allowing the hurricane’s rains to flood several rooms. Sometimes he needs a little motivation to continue the cleanup effort after a long day at work with Bahamas customs. Without any electricity, he gets a little creative. One evening, he turned on his car radio. Music streaming from the car put him and his neighbors in cleanup mode. “It keeps that community spirit,” Gaitor says of joking with friends and playing music.

The Bahamians are taking Hurricane Irene’s destructive path in stride, but they still need help—especially those in underserved areas far from the resort towns. Many of the docks on the islands were damaged, making it difficult for ships to deliver supplies. General aviation has played a key role in getting food, drinking water, and tarps to the Bahamians quickly. And with the long days of logistics calculations and flight time, these pilots and volunteers seem as resilient as those they are serving. In just a few hours, they’ll be at it again. Nine flight activities are scheduled to various islands on Wednesday, as half a dozen pilots or more are volunteering to help. Another 1,000 pounds of supplies will be dropped off at Fort Lauderdale Executive to be delivered. Short will be flying around the islands delivering food and water, and Cowboy is scheduled to get some much-needed roofing supplies on Cat Island.

http://blog.aopa.org/blog/?p=2188

Their days stretch to 12 hours, including filing eAPIS manifests, flight planning, clearing Bahamian and U.S. customs, and loading and unloading aircraft. The pilots are on the ground in the islands only long enough to unload supplies in 90-degree heat and what feels like 90 percent humidity. In many cases they directly hand the supplies to the Bahamas Habitat contacts who will deliver them to those in need.

Pilots volunteer their time and aircraft, pay for their own lodging and fuel (for themselves and their aircraft). However, pilots submit their claims of tax-deductible expenses to Bahamas Habitat and the organization documents them and provides receipts, according John Armstrong, president of Bahamas Habitiat. Avgas is more than $7 a gallon on the islands.

Bahamas Habitat is able to work around political problems that can tie up relief delivery by maintaining close contacts on the island. King’s time living on and frequent trips to Eleuthera Island help her maintain and build new relationships with airport employees and residents on the islands, and she can check in on the disaster relief efforts and long-term sustainable development programs.

Flying in these demanding conditions is strenuous. Two pilots helping with the Bahamas relief effort have flown many Haiti relief missions with Bahamas Habitat and know the tricks for maximizing efficiency and taking care of themselves. Others also flew missions to Haiti through other organizations. They keep a small snack bag and extra water in the aircraft to stay hydrated. The beauty of the Caribbean waters provides excellent views and the desire to help those suffering on the ground is strong, but these pilots focus on their purpose.

“They don’t need me out there,” said Scott Brallier with Wings for the Word, who had been flying missions in a Twin Comanche from Fort Lauderdale to Cat and Eleuthera islands. “They need what I can bring.”

Despite being set back by the economic slump, aviation businesses are pulling together to donate supplies or fly missions with Bahamas Habitat. Banyan Air Services helped support Bahamas Habitat and its volunteer pilots. Bahamas Elite flew reconnaissance missions after Hurricane Irene, Angel Flight Southeast pilots participated, as well as pilots from PilotMall.com, Air Journey, and Premier Aircraft Sales.

Neil Glazer, owner of PilotMall.com, flew his Mooney from California to Florida to meet up with Air Journey’s Guillaume Fabry for relief flights. Because of a mechanical issue with his Mooney, Glazer flew with Fabry in a Baron instead of both aircraft going. Premier Aircraft Sales founder Fred Ahles has flown a mission, and his wife, Catherine, has helped gather many of the supplies pilots are delivering.

Pilots can see the difference they are making, too—from the air. “You can tell which way the hurricane winds were blowing,” Robertson said. Blue tarps they are delivering dot houses that sustained roof damage along the coasts. Catherine helped shop for survival supplies. Even though she stayed stateside, she has no question about the impact Bahamas Habitat is making.

“That’s [a] niche Bahamas Habitat has filled,” Catherine said of serving rural areas of the islands. “Those people wouldn’t get help otherwise. Bottom line.”

http://www.aopa.org/aircraft/articles/2011/110831bahamas-relief-flights.html?WT.mc_id=110902epilot&WT.mc_sect=tts

While Shock is loading David Robertson’s Baron, Robertson is inside Banyan Air Services planning his missions for the day with King. They’ll be flying a Baron and Aztec to Great Exuma Island to clear Bahamian Customs and then deliver supplies to Arthur’s Town Airfield on Cat Island and Governors Harbour on Eleuthera Island. They’ll be surveying damage with a staff member Jason Mann from Calvary Chapel, which is located just beside Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport. The church already had donated four pallets filled with tarps, some generators, food, and water. Mann will be assessing where short-term construction teams from his church could be most effective.

With flight plans and Customs and Border Protection’s Electronic Advance Passenger Information System manifests filed, the airplanes loaded and fueled, and the pilots’ and passengers’ bladders empty, the group sets out. In cruise, King adjusts the Aztec’s rpm and manifold pressure to reach 160 knots, or what Bahamas Habitat Chief Pilot Steve Merritt calls V_BH, “Be Happy speed.” She briefs her passengers on the day’s mission while naming each island the group passes. The turquoise Caribbean waters are still a little rougher than usual, according to the locals, but they’ve returned to their brilliant hue that fair-weather cumulus clouds reflect. “It looks like cotton candy suspended in air,” King says of the blue-green clouds.

After a bumpy final approach from the winds and heating of the day, King touches down lightly at Great Exuma. “Welcome to the Bahamas,” she says. She can’t wait to shut down. She’s looking for a friend on her first trip to the island since the hurricane.

“Don’t let go. I thought you were going to blow away,” King tells Symonette while they embrace. Symonette is one of the many King will check in on that day.

King, who lived on Eleuthera Island for 10 months and flies to the Bahamas every month for different missions to support partner organization Bahamas Methodist Habitat, has developed many close friendships. Although she now lives in Knoxville, Tenn., she keeps in close contact with her friends on the monthly trips. She called many of them before the storm hit. One began to say goodbye in case she didn’t survive the hurricane, King recalls, pausing to catch her voice. King promised she’d check in after the hurricane and would be there with supplies as soon as possible.

“I could barely sleep,” King says of the night the hurricane hit the islands. Once the storm passed, Bahamas Habitat immediately assessed reports coming from the island to determine if relief efforts were needed. The group won’t fly into an area unless a disaster response is warranted. King kept her promise to her friend, who made it through the hurricane, flying a reconnaissance mission over the islands the very next day after the hurricane. King led mobilization efforts to get pilots in the area to fly supplies. During her first opportunity to fly to the islands herself, she stopped in to deliver supplies while also assessing the damage to determine where to concentrate the group’s efforts.

Other volunteer pilots also have developed attachments to the Bahamians. King says it’s face-to-face time with the residents—whether at the airport while unloading supplies or working with them during short trips off the airport—that keeps volunteer pilots coming back. When disaster strikes the Caribbean, it’s no longer about a foreign chain of islands off the Florida coast. It’s about the woman, man, or child the pilot met at the airport.

http://www.aopa.org/aircraft/articles/2011/110831bahamas-relief-flights.html?WT.mc_id=110902epilot&WT.mc_sect=tts