Kristof on Congo

There’s a very touching column on the Congo in this morning’s New York Times.  I appreciate very much Kristof’s persistence in exposing us to the injustices of the world. Do read.

Getting in and Getting out of Haiti

I’ve written a report for Christianity Today Magazine on the Haiti situation, and when that’s online I’ll post it here. But before I quit the subject entirely, I want to describe what it was like getting in and out of Haiti. People ask me about the chaos in Port-au-Prince, and I have to say it was pretty calm. The worst chaos I saw was at the airport.

On Tuesday January 19, one week after the earthquake, my editor called and asked me to go. It took a while to figure out how I was going to get into Haiti, because there are no commercial flights open, but I left on Thursday for the Dominican Republic. World Vision had arranged for me to fly in to Port-au-Prince (PAP) on a missionary airline Saturday morning.

I got to the airport about 6:00. I was supposed to hang out in the main lobby of this small, local airport and meet the pilot at 6:40. Well, at 6:40 nobody showed. By 7:00 I was really nervous. I’m a nervous traveler anyway, and I didn’t want to have come all this way and spend all this money just to get stuck. I was praying a lot.

Nobody spoke English, but in my very weak Spanish I managed to convey to an airport employee that I was looking for Air Serv. He led me outside and over to an adjacent building, which was filled with international aid people, helicopter pilots, UN folks and so on. A very nice older Dominican man welcomed me, assured me that I had found the right place, offered a cup of coffee and told me to take a seat–my pilot would come for me. But he didn’t. And it didn’t seem right. Nobody seemed to have heard of Air Serv. I started asking more people, and one man asked whether I had the pilot’s phone number. I did. He very kindly called him on his phone. (My international phone was broken, I discovered just as I was ready to fly.) The pilot answered and said he was at the plane, but his co-pilot would come by and pick me up at the information desk in the main lobby. Whew! I went back there and waited. Nobody came. At the flying hour–7:40–I began to panic again. A young woman at the information desk did speak English, and she offered to call the pilot  but she had no minutes on her cell phone. I went to a cash machine and got some pesos. She called  a nearby grocery story and got some minutes. And then she called for me…. and got a message. Try again, no dice. Five minutes later, the same message. They had left without me.

How was I going to get there? The young woman ushered me over to some people who said they were leaving right now. I filled out an emigration form and thrust it at them, along with $250 in cash. We hustled to a prop plane–five or six passengers with 20 or more empty seats. I never saw a ticket or any paperwork for the flight. We flew into PAP.

Then the problem was to find my contact, Jean Dorlus. I walked right out of the little Haitian airport–no papers, no passports, no nothing. But there was nothing but taxi drivers and soldiers outside. Thankfully, another kind stranger–a taxi driver, no less–called Jean. He was at another airport (using the same tarmac) where my original flight had come in. Somebody told him I was there–though I wasn’t. If I hadn’t been able to call….

Okay, so it was great to be there. Jean took good care of me, and set up all my meetings. He had rented a car at exorbitant prices and took me around. Pretty soon, though, I figured out that getting out of Haiti was a lot harder than getting in, because so many Haitians were trying desperately to leave. Those empty seats on the flight in? They weren’t empty on the flight out.

I was there almost a week, and every day I tried to figure out an escape route. Air Serv? World Vision wasn’t scheduling it yet. Compassion International offered to help–to go with their convoy overland, or else to fly on the World Food Program flights. That seemed like a sure thing, until it fell through. Then I met a pastor who was driving to Santo Domingo the next day. He had plenty of room. Bingo! The next morning he called to say he had cancelled his plan.

I was running low on money, and there’s no way to get more in Haiti. Credit cards are worthless pieces of plastic. I was done with my reporting, and just a bother for Haitians who were graciously feeding me and helping me. Time to go! Jean took me down to the bus station. All buses full, though the young woman sold me a ticket for the next day. It seemed pretty shaky, but that was all I had.

We went to the World Vision office, to see if we could get a briefing on what they were doing. I mentioned to Laura Blank, the media coordinator, that I needed to get out. She cheerfully said she thought she could get me on a flight. However, she couldn’t confirm it. After the other disappointments, I wasn’t too confident. We left and went to see if we could get Jean’s car repaired. Fortunately, the repair place was near the airport. (Traffic was bad, very bad, and it took a good hour to get across town.) While there Jean got a text message from Laura: go to the airport. Jean fought traffic and got me there about 12:15. Plans were supposed to be confirmed at 12:30. Jean dropped me off.

But the airport was madness–jammed with aid volunteers trying to get out on any flight. Nobody had even heard of Air Serv. A Missionary Aviation guy told me to just watch out the window and see if I could spot the plane.

I did that for a while and then decided to try what is very unnatural for me. I circulated through the crowded room, yelling out the question whether anybody was going with Air Serv. I went all around the room drawing nothing but blank stares. Finally a guy asked me if I was going to Santo Domingo. He took me over to an older man who he thought was also going to Santo Domingo. The gentleman didn’t speak any English and had never heard of Air Serv. But standing right next to him were two World Vision employees who had just that moment arrived on the Air Serv flight. The pilot would be coming to give them back their passports.

I stuck to them like glue. The pilot came. He told me to wait. Eventually he told me to go out to the plane–a six-passenger number. I got in. We took off. It was very, very sweet to leave Haiti on my way home.

Rebuilding Haiti

Much of the news I’ve seen from Haiti gives an impression of a cauldron about to boil over. From what I witnessed, that’s far from the truth. Things are very bad, but they are calm. I never felt in the least bit in danger, and people were going about their business calmly and purposefully. The government wasn’t functioning, and no much else was either, but people carried their terrible dilemmas with dignity, for the most part. A good question to ask, when you see these TV reports about chaotic food distributions, is “How many people died or were injured?” If people are jumping around and yelling while soldiers with guns who don’t speak their language are lining them up to get food, that’s not really terror, that’s just human nature.

Here’s a camp that was set up spontaneously after the earthquake. Actually, “set up” makes it sound organized, while in realty when people’s homes are destroyed they had to sleep somewhere and any park or patch of ground that was available got covered with sheets and blankets. The vast majority of Port-au-Prince’s three million people are living out of doors. What happens when it starts to rain I don’t know. It could be difficult.

One of many spontaneous camps all over Port-au-Princet could be difficult.

Despite the chaotic circustances, most of these camps are pretty well organized. The residents have set up an informal committee to run things, and they are the ones who figure out sanitation, who often register camp residents and help organize the distribution of food. Do the people in the photos look like helpless victims?

When I got to Haiti ten days after the quake people were already selling all kinds of things on the street, and that increased every day I was there. This scene shows a man carrying electronic gear and mobile phones on his head, while people are shoveling garbage in the background. Notice what used to be a building. That’s typical.

Back to a semblance of normal: selling, digging out

I haven’t seen this in the news, but there is plenty of food for sale in the streets–meat, beans, rice, vegetables, all kinds of fruit. If you have money, you won’t go hungry. The dilemma is, people don’t have money. A lot of them didn’t have money to start with. Until recently those who had money in banks couldn’t get at it. Jobs disappeared the night of the quake. The need for food relief isn’t about any real shortage of food, it’s a shortage of a functioning economy. That says a lot about the problems of rebuilding that face the country.

Earthquakes don't respect people, or statuesface the country.

I don’t know how I feel about the prospects for rebuilding. It’s hard enough to do in a country that has a functioning government and infrustructure. Think New Orleans. Maybe, just maybe, this earthquake will provide a new beginning. It’s possible.

At another level, though, I’m pretty sure that communities will be rebuilt. Haitians are resilient people. I heard that repeatedly and after being there I believe it. They survive. They cope. If they lack a good government, they do have their churches, which are a reasonably honest and trusted network, among other things.

People I met were sometimes struggling to cope with the inhuman demands placed on them. They were grieving many deaths–not just one or two, but dozens. They had to figure out how to eat and sleep every day. And whatever their responsibilities were, they had to figure out how they were going to rebuild. But they were going about it pretty well, I thought.

Some Thoughts and Photos from Haiti

Jean Dorlus at the ruined main building at STEP, Port-au-Prince

This is Jean Dorlus, standing in front of the ruined main building for STEP (Seminaire de Theologie Evangelique d’Haiti). Jean, who is president of the seminary, was in his office when the quake hit. He (and almost every other Haitian) cried out to God, believing as the building swayed and bucked that it was going down. But it stood, and he made his way out safely. Not everyone did: one student died and three others were badly hurt.

Within a very short time the shady hillside seminary campus was filled with people from the neighborhod. In a few days a census would find 4,000 new seminary residents camping out on the basketball court and every available patch of space. A Haitian doctor set up a clinic, using cardboard for splints and scavenged hydrogen peroxide and tylenol for medications. Other medical providers from the area joined her, a Boys Brigade troop from local churches provided crowd control. Resident missionary families gave everything they had–sheets and blankets, clothes, food. American aid groups reached STEP with food, water, medical teams, and other helps in a few days.

Jean, while proud of how his seminary responded, had his worries. He wondered if the refugees would become a permanent encampment–they had, after all, no homes. He worried about how and when the seminary could start again–if ever. Offices and classrooms were gone. His students, even if the seminary started up in tents, would have a hard time paying tuition. And Jean, who had lost approximately 100 friends and family members, had other responsibilities. Sixteen friends and family members were sleeping outside in his back yard. (The house did not fall, but people in Port-au-Prince are too afraid to sleep indoors.) He had no electricity and no way to buy a generator. The banks were closed so he had no money. His car badly needed repair. Every time he closed his eyes at night his mind replayed the disaster. He did not sleep until 2 or 3:00 in the morning, and he woke up with his heart racing in the morning.

It seems silly to mention it, but Jean is a true bibliophile. He mourned for the 2,000 books in his private library he had left behind in his office. He expects he will never see them again.

Comparatively, Jean is blessed. I mean, compared to many other Haitians. He and his family were uninjured. But he is under extraordinary stress. And one can only expect that he will face these stresses for months and years to come.

In the midst of this, Jean took me in (whom he had never met, only read a little) and took extraordinary care of me. His wife Barbara cooked wonderful meals and washed my clothes. We all slept together under the stars. Jean took me to meet pastors and leaders all over Port-au-Prince. I will always be thankful for the Dorlus’ warmth and care under such extraordinary circumstances.

In the next few days I’ll try to weigh in with other stories and photos.

I’m Back

I’m home, and rarely has home looked so good. I am grateful to God that I was able to see and hear all I did and tell others about it. Getting out of Haiti was an adventure, but I made it safely. I’m especially thankful to Jean Dorlus and his wife Barbara who took such good care of me in Port-au-Prince.

I have a ton to do, not least writing a long article for Christianity Today, but I’ll be posting more soon with some photos.

In Hait

Just a note to say that I am in Haiti and seeing a lot. Everybody in the country is sleeping out in the open, including me. The destruction is incredible, as though a mob of giants had been dancing a jig over the city crushing everything underfoot. Right now I am trying to figure out how to get out! I’ve done lots of good interviews and seen plenty. Getting transport out is pretty difficult but I’m working at it!

Tim in Haiti

Well, here’s a surprise… I’m on my way to Haiti. Right now I am writing from the Dominican Republic. Tomorrow morning I take a six passenger plane in. A Haitian seminary president will meet me and act as my guide. That’s the plan. I think I’ll be sleeping on the ground, and who knows what I’ll be eating. Also, I don’t as of now have a way to fly out again. Lots of unknowns, and I’m seriously short on sleep (took redeye to get here) but I’m excited. I’ll be looking for stories about how Haitian Christians are coping and helping each other. I’m working for Christianity Today but I’ll try to post updates and stories when I have a chance. No idea when that will be, but keep your eyes open. I expect to be in Haiti a week, assuming I can get out again.

I have the afternoon here in Santo Domingo, and so I walked around to see the old town. Lots of tourists rambling around. It’s strange, to be on the same island and see no sign whatsoever of the tragedy unfolding so nearby. I did see lots of folks heading to Haiti on the flight down from Miami, including one church group from South Carolina all wearing matching yellow T shirts. They got together a medical team in a week and are heading to a spot near Port au Prince to set up a medical clinic.

The Difficult Jesus–Matthew 12

On Sunday I preached on Matthew 12: 15-37, which introduces what I call “the difficult Jesus.” So much of what we learn about Jesus in the gospels is attractive–wise, powerful, compassionate. But this passage portrays Jesus quarreling with the Pharisees, and it’s hard to stomach.

I don’t think Jesus was just  cranky. When we encounter the difficult Jesus, it’s worthwhile to ask, “What is so important it’s worth being difficult about?” Listen if you want to find out.

http://fpcsantarosa.org/mp3_files/011710-tim_s.mp3

A Blog from Haiti

This blog from a missionary couple in Haiti is very detailed and quite moving. They rode their third-story apartment down to the second floor when the first floor collapsed. They were unhurt. They give a vivid day-by-day portrait of the chaos and the chaotic emotions. (Hint: start near the bottom on the day of the earthquake and work your way up into the present.)

About Teachers

Aren’t you glad I’m not writing about science today? I have to say, I am. I guess that’s my journalist self talking. Lots of subjects fascinate me, but it doesn’t take too much to make me want to move on.

So let’s talk about teachers. Lots of people agree that American education is in a state of crisis, but it’s hard to get agreement on why. One of my very good friends, an elementary school teacher, is in despair about her job (which, at some level, she still loves, and which I feel sure she is very good at). She feels vehemently that the culture has changed, that family breakdown and media infatuation and loss of respect for authority all combine to make learning practically impossible. I can’t argue with her–I’m not there in the classroom every day. She tells me for heaven sakes not to blame the teachers.

I don’t blame them, but I keep reading articles like this one in the latest Atlantic. In “What Makes a Great Teacher” Amanda Ripley reports on the research done by Teach for America on the success and failure of teachers. According to Ripley, some teachers succeed no matter how bad the school is. As measured by test scores, their students advance more than a year’s worth, year after year. Meanwhile other teachers, in the same schools, fail to advance their students’ knowledge year after year. Granted that test scores aren’t everything, aren’t they something?

Teach with America, which has a very systematic way of hiring (and lots of candidates to choose from), has been slushing their data to find out what kind of people make outstanding teachers. They think they’ve learned some things and that their success rate is going up as they look for the right kind of people to hire.

The bigger point, though, is that some teachers are better than other teachers. Consistently. By measurable criteria. In all schools, not just the “good” ones.

That’s not to say the culture doesn’t make a difference. It does, of course. But lacking any great ideas on how to bend the culture, how about taking seriously the job of hiring and retaining great teachers, and getting rid of the really bad ones? Yes, it could be cruel and capricious. We’d want to do everything possible to make that not so. Ultimately, though, we have to ask the question: who are these schools for?