Charlotte

June 23 was our first full day in Jacmel. Our original plans of heading to Peredo were changed because they thought it would rain, so a small group of the guys went and the rest of us stayed back. We would later figure out why the amount of rain is so important: the road trip to Peredo, which is about an hour, involves crossing two rivers. Not on bridges. Not on boats. Just driving straight through the rivers. If the river is up too high, you're stuck on whatever side you're on. More on that tomorrow.

The rest of us who were left behind were put to work doing various jobs. We sorted medicines and donations and painted bunk beds. During a lull, Alex, who works at the house, took us on a walk down to the ocean. Most of us were a little discouraged because we didn't get to do much, but that is part of Haiti--learning to deal with changes whenever they pop up. I kind of thought the day was a waste.

And then I met Charlotte.

During her stay here in Haiti, Ginny (the missionary we stayed with) has formed many connections with people all over Haiti. We teased her because she has "a guy" for every job you can imagine. "I have a lobster guy", "I have a generator guy", "I have a UN guy", etc. Anyway, one of Ginny's connections is in Tent City, and her name is Charlotte. After the earthquake, hundreds of thousands of Haitians lost their homes, their land, and their families. Jacmel has several different Tent Cities throughout the town, and Charlotte lives in one of those Tent Cities. Charlotte has basically taken it upon herself to be what I would call the mayor of her Tent City. She looks out for everyone. She makes sure people who are unjustly arrested are pleaded for. She finds medical help for the hurting. And in the course of this, she found Ginny. Now, when Charlotte has a medical need, she contacts Ginny, who is a nurse, and Ginny comes out to Tent City to help.

The day I went to Tent City with Ginny, she was headed there to give a young child a shot. They had a swolen lymph node, and needed antibiotics right away. Here in the U.S. a problem like this would have never even become this bad of an issue, but this is common in Haiti.

I'm guessing that this Tent City is about the size of two football fields, rowed with military style tents, attached right next to each other. The tents actually create "roads" within the city to walk. Along one wall of the city is a row of outhouses, which I learn are the second set built since the earthquake (the others are completely full!) There is a huge bladder of water under a tarp, which is for those who live in the tents, but the water still has to be boiled. There is little food, no running water, and no electricity. The people there have hardened faces. They seem to look right through you, and it takes your breath away for a minute, knowing this is their reality. Not a temporary fix; a permanent reality for them.

As we pull in, we wait for Charlotte to meet us, and Ginny's only directions are, "Please try not to cry." She takes us to the sick child, and while we walk, little hands grab onto ours, sometimes two and three to a hand. The children, despite the circumstances are filled with joy. One boy came up to us and practiced what little he knew of English. Many kids wanted you to take their picture. Almost all of them were smiling. It was too much to take in.

As we leave, Charlotte talks with Ginny about some other concerns she has, and while we are there for the next week Ginny will go several more times to Tent City. Every time, Charlotte is there, fighting for her people, people who have no one else fighting for them.

As I went to bed that night, I could barely remember the walk to the beach and the jobs we had done around the house. All I could see in my mind was Charlotte and her heart for the lost.

I want to be like her.