Friday morning, January 14, found four of us workers flying into Port au Prince. Neil and Susie Toews picked us up, having arrived earlier to get the house and housekeeping all set up for our crew. The following day, Saturday evening, saw Kevin Bronson and two more workers arrive at “our” house. One of our ministers, Brutus, has rented his nice big house to our crew for the duration of the project. They moved into their shed and camped while we lived in luxury. The goal of GNFI this year is to get water from the canyon right down to the village of Fond Parisien.
Each morning breakfast is served at 6:30am and the men try to head up the canyon by 7:00am. A five gallon jug of water, a cooler chest with snacks and a large chunk of ice for the water cooler heads up with them. Sometimes if there is leftover breakfast, bread, or fruit, that gets sent up as well portioned out in small bags for the little ones along the way who come running when they see the white man coming. It's very satisfying to have a pocket full of suckers to hand out during the day to all the children along the way, as well.
Most of the men go all the way up the canyon to where GNFI's containers are sitting. Close there is where the dam for this project is being built. A track hoe from CAT in Port has been rented for the construction of the dam and diverting of the stream. GNFI hires many native Haitians to help with the project. Some of them have trucks and haul sand for making cement, some haul bags of cement powder or rebar up to the canyon, and lots work with their hands at the site. A cook is hired to cook the noonday meal of rice and beans for all the workers. We provide the cook with the rice, vegetables, and seasonings so she can cook. It is GNFI's responsibility to provide one meal a day for the workers they hire. Some days into the project it was realized that the worker men needed a little more nourishment so chicken was added to the broth for added energy.
Most of the men go all the way up the canyon to where GNFI's containers are sitting. Close there is where the dam for this project is being built. A track hoe from CAT in Port has been rented for the construction of the dam and diverting of the stream. GNFI hires many native Haitians to help with the project. Some of them have trucks and haul sand for making cement, some haul bags of cement powder or rebar up to the canyon, and lots work with their hands at the site. A cook is hired to cook the noonday meal of rice and beans for all the workers. We provide the cook with the rice, vegetables, and seasonings so she can cook. It is GNFI's responsibility to provide one meal a day for the workers they hire. Some days into the project it was realized that the worker men needed a little more nourishment so chicken was added to the broth for added energy.
A few men spent several days working in the sand pit, digging sand and loading trucks for cementing up in the canyon. A backhoe was rented from CSI to help with the digging and loading. Almost every day there were errands to run, or supplies to get from Port, or someone coming in on the plane or going home, so that took a man full time.
Going up the canyon is a beautiful drive, although dusty at this time of the year. The rock and gravel is very white, so it makes dark things light, and riding up on the four-wheeler or back of the machine, (pickup) which is the only way up, you get very dusty. Part of the way is a fairly good road, although quite rocky. Some of the way is the riverbed itself, part of the way there is no water, and some places you need to ford the stream.
Up at the containers the men and some children are waiting to hand in their numbers. If you have a number to hand in at the beginning of the day, you will get paid for the day's work. The numbers are handed in and recorded, then at the end of the day if you are there, you may get your number again to hand in the next morning. One day it was discovered that rebar was being stolen and slid over the bank to a hiding place down below. No one wanted to admit to the wrong, so the men were told that someone wouldn't have work the next day. It came out who it was, and because of it the men who stole did not get paid for the next days work. Honesty is not taught among themselves, and stealing doesn't matter unless you are caught. That is a challenge to keep everything under lock and key and to know who you can trust.
Some men are dragging rebar down the trail to the dam. A ladder has been laid across the stream so the white men don't have to get themselves wet crossing. Some of the younger men or boys are tying rebar together for the dam proper. Two cement mixers are employed and about six to eight men are working at each mixer, and four girls or women are hauling water up from the creek for the cement. One little girl said she was five years old, and she carried a full five gallon bucket on her head up the steep slope all day long for the cement mixer.
Going up the canyon is a beautiful drive, although dusty at this time of the year. The rock and gravel is very white, so it makes dark things light, and riding up on the four-wheeler or back of the machine, (pickup) which is the only way up, you get very dusty. Part of the way is a fairly good road, although quite rocky. Some of the way is the riverbed itself, part of the way there is no water, and some places you need to ford the stream.
Up at the containers the men and some children are waiting to hand in their numbers. If you have a number to hand in at the beginning of the day, you will get paid for the day's work. The numbers are handed in and recorded, then at the end of the day if you are there, you may get your number again to hand in the next morning. One day it was discovered that rebar was being stolen and slid over the bank to a hiding place down below. No one wanted to admit to the wrong, so the men were told that someone wouldn't have work the next day. It came out who it was, and because of it the men who stole did not get paid for the next days work. Honesty is not taught among themselves, and stealing doesn't matter unless you are caught. That is a challenge to keep everything under lock and key and to know who you can trust.
Some men are dragging rebar down the trail to the dam. A ladder has been laid across the stream so the white men don't have to get themselves wet crossing. Some of the younger men or boys are tying rebar together for the dam proper. Two cement mixers are employed and about six to eight men are working at each mixer, and four girls or women are hauling water up from the creek for the cement. One little girl said she was five years old, and she carried a full five gallon bucket on her head up the steep slope all day long for the cement mixer.
Up the trail close to the penstock, where the canal will go, some men are hired with their cement block machine, building blocks for the canal wall. Some of the pad for the canal floor is already poured, and more will be done as time progresses.
Some days go good with almost no trouble, while other days are ones worth learning patience on. One day, things were really going good and it was time to head home for supper. Locking up the containers and jumping on the four-wheeler and into the machine the men headed out. They knew a truck with cement bags should be coming soon. It was already dark, and as they came around a corner on the steep hill, here it was, tipped on it's side. The driver also thought it was going good, so instead of staying in first gear where it was going good, he wanted to make it better by shifting into second. Well, the truck powered out, and started to roll back. No one wants to roll backwards on a mountain road with curves in the dark, so the driver cranked his wheel hard so he would back into the mountain, thus laying his truck on its side when the one wheel went up the slope. The truck effectively blocked the road, with all our workers on the far side. One man jumped out the passengers door just before the truck laid on that side, luckily escaping death. One of our young black brothers, who works with us, and is a trustworthy, faithful young man, was in the truck as well, and escaped with only a few bruises and scratches. Prayer is a very real thing in this country and we do not take it for granted. We understand its meaning in a much more personal way when we are far from home, and we know our loved ones are praying for us.
So now to get to work instead of going home for dinner. All this cement, some still in bags and some spilled must now be cleaned up and hauled to the containers before the truck can be pulled upright once more, and the road cleared so the workers can head for home. Then the track hoe is walked up the road to the truck and used to help right the truck. The truck is pulled out of the way, and communication is finally had with the men down in the valley at the town. The ones back home are praying, and some of the men have headed up to find out why the others are not coming in or responding on the 2-way radios. Messages are sent so those waiting can relax that nothing tragic has transpired.
Some days go good with almost no trouble, while other days are ones worth learning patience on. One day, things were really going good and it was time to head home for supper. Locking up the containers and jumping on the four-wheeler and into the machine the men headed out. They knew a truck with cement bags should be coming soon. It was already dark, and as they came around a corner on the steep hill, here it was, tipped on it's side. The driver also thought it was going good, so instead of staying in first gear where it was going good, he wanted to make it better by shifting into second. Well, the truck powered out, and started to roll back. No one wants to roll backwards on a mountain road with curves in the dark, so the driver cranked his wheel hard so he would back into the mountain, thus laying his truck on its side when the one wheel went up the slope. The truck effectively blocked the road, with all our workers on the far side. One man jumped out the passengers door just before the truck laid on that side, luckily escaping death. One of our young black brothers, who works with us, and is a trustworthy, faithful young man, was in the truck as well, and escaped with only a few bruises and scratches. Prayer is a very real thing in this country and we do not take it for granted. We understand its meaning in a much more personal way when we are far from home, and we know our loved ones are praying for us.
So now to get to work instead of going home for dinner. All this cement, some still in bags and some spilled must now be cleaned up and hauled to the containers before the truck can be pulled upright once more, and the road cleared so the workers can head for home. Then the track hoe is walked up the road to the truck and used to help right the truck. The truck is pulled out of the way, and communication is finally had with the men down in the valley at the town. The ones back home are praying, and some of the men have headed up to find out why the others are not coming in or responding on the 2-way radios. Messages are sent so those waiting can relax that nothing tragic has transpired.
Back at the house dinner is waiting. Half the men's laundry has been sent through the spinner-washer, hung on the line to dry in the sun, and is now folded neatly on a bench in the living room. The other half of the men will get their laundry done tomorrow. With up to sixteen of us all eating in the house and needing laundry done, its a good days job each day. With the men helping with some of the household chores, such as hauling five gallon jugs of water, carrying out garbage, washing dishes, fueling the generator, and in general keeping the cooks happy, these are good days, filled with many precious memories.
Some days there were only two of us women in the house, other days there were five. We all seemed to know what our jobs were, and we helped each other with the other's work as well. Some days we walked to the market for fresh vegetables and maybe a few other little items. Each day we had something to clean, always the floors could use sweeping or washing. Some days we walked up to “the Hilton” to clean the boys rooms. Up the hill a short ways, GNFI rented a shed with three rooms from our deacon Enock where we set up cots for 6 to 8 men to sleep. Each morning when the day was so fresh, our devotions were a special blessing with each man's inspiration, and then a song sung altogether.
One last memory worthy of mention is the day we left. Because of the potential danger of riots, the minister Brutus and his son Jeftha came with us to the airport, just for safety sake, and to have some black Haitian people along to understand what is going on. Half way to the airport, Fre Brutus was singing, and suddenly we were all singing along, “...but I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him against that day...” It felt like the Lord was with us and our hearts were united.
Some days there were only two of us women in the house, other days there were five. We all seemed to know what our jobs were, and we helped each other with the other's work as well. Some days we walked to the market for fresh vegetables and maybe a few other little items. Each day we had something to clean, always the floors could use sweeping or washing. Some days we walked up to “the Hilton” to clean the boys rooms. Up the hill a short ways, GNFI rented a shed with three rooms from our deacon Enock where we set up cots for 6 to 8 men to sleep. Each morning when the day was so fresh, our devotions were a special blessing with each man's inspiration, and then a song sung altogether.
One last memory worthy of mention is the day we left. Because of the potential danger of riots, the minister Brutus and his son Jeftha came with us to the airport, just for safety sake, and to have some black Haitian people along to understand what is going on. Half way to the airport, Fre Brutus was singing, and suddenly we were all singing along, “...but I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him against that day...” It felt like the Lord was with us and our hearts were united.
Mike and Maxine Schartner
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