Concrete Relationships

We can’t really talk about the heat, dust, and smell anymore – but we want to. We did allow the rooster into Marie’s complex for several minutes this morning (for real), but Gina had already bought the two chickens that were to be our dinner. So, I guess we have one more morning of Haiti’s built in alarm clock. With Jim Meyer’s tour repertoire exhausted, we were destined to a day of mixing, hauling, and pouring the new concrete floor for the orphanage dormitory. What started out as a helping hand ended up with a bunch of fifty and sixty year old men (throw in a couple younger) trying to relive their youth for close to six hours in the tropical sun. As the piles thinned and the floor expanded, our shirts turned into wet rags and our leg and arm hairs congealed into some sort of concrete mix. Despite this, our new girl friends were oblivious to our outward appearance, smell and wet bodies. Our breaks were filled with piles of young girls stacked two, three, and four deep. Endless Gatorades, Cokes and waters were shared by all as we replenished ourselves. Haitian tempers flared momentarily as the cement mixer ran out of gas and the crew was forced to take an unplanned break. The Americans from Chicago didn’t show their tempers at all.
Another crew of Chicagoans from Wheatland Salem Church showed up at 3:30 with Pizza, cupcakes, guitars, and new dresses. Suddenly our smelly bodies were not as appealing. But, when the kids brandished their new clothes, smiles and full tummies we were encouraged and blessed. The worship music that the kids sang was a glimpse of heaven that literally filled our hearts.
Dinner tonight (yes chicken – not rooster), black rice, carrots, green beans and squash was outstanding. The showers were warm as the Haitian sun had beat down on the 400 gallon tubs on the top of Marie’s home. As I write this we are once again sharing in fellowship, listening to worship music and talking about our new memories. I do love Haiti.
-Andy Code