Mother
Teresa
When the Haiti Engineering Team first
embarked on our mission, I was bursting with the infectious excitement, enthusiasm,
and anticipation that my teammates and team leaders had inspired. The goal of our mission trip was to create
and install five (5) solar-powered electricity systems that could be used to power
microbusinesses for charging telephones and providing a small light source to
rural villages with no access to electricity.
Our adventure began in Puerto Plata,
Dominican Republic, where we spent our first days gathering supplies, building
mechanical solar panel frames, and testing electrical equipment. On May 20, we continued our journey, crossing
the Dominican Republic-Haiti border at Dajabon, DR.
My excitement and hope was quickly
replaced with fear and dismay. The
border crossing overloaded my senses. People
everywhere shouted for attention; children begged; porters forcefully offered
their services; and border officials expected bribes. The sun beat down mercilessly upon us,
rotting trash that lined the streets and creating an unpleasant stench. It was my first glimpse of true poverty and I
recoiled in fear. The stares of the
local people made it clear that they saw us not as fellow humans, but rather as
outsiders with money. This made me cautious
and uncomfortable and I reciprocated…I began to perceive them as poor people--peasants
who would take advantage of me in an unwary moment. Fortunately something happened to ensure this
perception would not last.
When children came to beg us for money,
my team leader picked up some pebbles and offered them to the children as a
trade. The children simply laughed at
him, but it was enough to break the barrier…it was enough to make us all human
again. Before long, the children at the
border were playing games with us, teaching us some Spanish, and learning small
bits of English. For a moment, our
divisions and distinctions melted away.
Eventually, we moved through the border
crossing and onto our final destination of Ferrier, Haiti. Yet, that border experience was never far
from my mind. For me, it was an
awakening…I had begun to understand the real tragedy of poverty.
Poverty is not a tragedy because people
don’t have access to clean water, medical resources, housing, or adequate food—although
these things are tragic in and of themselves.
They are the injustices of poverty.
The true tragedy of poverty is that it dehumanizes people. Instead of seeing people who are afflicted with poor living conditions, we only see
“the poor” or “the homeless” or “the hungry”, as if their condition is the only
descriptor they merit. Genesis 1:27 says, “So God created mankind in His own
image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created
them.” If we are all created in the
image of God, then we all deserve to be treated with the same dignity and
respect, no matter our living conditions.
Somewhere along the way I had forgotten
that. In my desire to bring my own
talents and resources to the aid of the Haitian people, I had reduced them to
little more than a project—a problem for which I held a solution. In doing so, I lost my own humanity. For if I were stripped of those talents and
resources, would I not then simply become a project myself?
For the rest of the trip, I took it upon
myself to be the trip photographer, amongst other tasks. I took photos of Haitians and BU students
working side by side. We had engineering
talents and resources that the Haitian people did not have, but they had
community and labor resources that we could not have provided. The Haitian and BU communities drew together
to shine our light, the light of Christ,
so that all could see and give glory to our Father in heaven. In these photos, I did not see poor people. I
saw people of strength, courage, wisdom, community, joy, faith, hope, and love. I saw God.
“Our
deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are
powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens
us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?'
Actually, who are you not to be any of these things? You are a child of God. Your playing
small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so
that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as
children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light
shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are
liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Marianne
Williamson
[At the house of one of the families launching a microbusiness. Heather is in the red shirt on the front row.]
[Student team working alongside Haitians - hands and feet, eyes and ears]
[Sonia (middle) is our only female-operated business person. Heather (right) and the other women found her to be inspirational.]
[We needed to bury the wires that ran from our solar panels to the batteries to protect them. Our Haitian coworkers could dig a trench and lay the PVC conduit very quickly. They also could dig holes with unbelievably straight sides and mix concrete with expertise.]
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