“Stoning” the Hand That Feeds You….

Saturday morning, Oct. 29,  found us crossing 11 miles of undulating Caribbean turquoise going from Ile a Vache bound for the mainland coastal village of Baie du Mesle. We were scheduled to meet with a truck loaded with 4-5 tons of relief food; rice, beans, oil, corn, sugar, the most basic staples. I left most of the team with the boat at the dock taking only Cody and Ermithe with me and went bouncing over the gravel road in the little Toyota pickup for 45 minutes to the rendezvous point with the big truck from Port a Prince on the main road. In traditional Haitian style, the truck was running late. We parked on the side of the road to wait, and wait, and wait some more.

Trouble showed up in the form of a small band of some young men approaching the truck. Their attitude of intimidation was unmistakable as they leaned, glowering at us, on the sides of the truckbed. We ignored them, but it was disconcerting as they stood that way, scowling and threatening, for three hours while we waited. I finally told them to get away from the truck. They ignored me. Cody opened the door to get out of the truck and they moved quickly away. Nothing behind their bluff, but the natives there were certainly restless. The truck finally arrived and we left the corner and retraced our trek down the gravel road leading the food truck back to Baie du Mesle.

There is supposed to be a guy helping with security in Baie Du Mesle, but as the situation upon our arrival progressed, our assessment was that there was no security there. The road out onto the dock is fairly narrow and about 600 feet long. They have an unfinished fence built at the end of the dock, running up to the edges of it. We had given instructions that they were to keep everyone OFF THE DOCK so that we could offload. We had made it very simple: don’t let anyone pass the fence. By the time I got out onto the dock, followed by the truck, the people had already passed the fence and flooded onto the dock.

We sent some of our guys to bodily barricade their way. They tried to hold the line while the rest of the guys unloaded as fast as they physically could, bag after bag from the truck, down into the boat. It was a major push to hold the mob back as they consistently continued to gain ground against us. By the time we loaded the last of the food into the back of the Toyota to be given to the people of Baie du Mesle,  the mob was pushing past the big truck. I started my way back off the dock only to find that they had barricaded the gate at the fence so that we could not get back off. I told Cody and Jesse to clear the way so they jumped out of the truck and tore down the barricade. The people swarmed onto the truck as I hit the gas and went tearing down the road, plowing through puddles, sending water and mud flying, slamming through ruts and mud, trying to get away from the mob to deliver that last small load to the depot in Baie Du Mesle.

I finally got a little ahead but by the time I reached the depot and backed up to it (only to find no one there and the door to it locked), the people caught up with us. The two girls, Ermithe and Ambr, were the only ones still with me and they both jumped out of the truck.  I couldn’t leave because the girls couldn’t get back to the truck as the rabble overran it and tore all of the food out of the back like they were mad, ripping it out of each other’s hands, rice flying through the air in mindless waste. As soon as the girls were able to make their way through the chaos and scrambled back into the cab I shoved it into gear, tore away from the mayhem, made our way back around part of the bay to where we could leave the truck parked, and we met back up with the boat.

We had originally hoped to reach Isle a Vache and unload before dark but due to the delays of the delivery truck and the bedlam in Baie Bu Mesle, two hours later we glided into the bay at Kaykok with the sun already going down. The guys threw out the anchor as we drew near the shore and the rope got fouled in the prop. Unbelievable! At ten feet from shore the people were already crowding around the boat which we finally got into position to unload. We set up an assembly line with only specifically selected people in it to pass the rice from the boat, across the strip of beach, up the stairs and into the base. Within moments, and with darkness falling, people who weren’t supposed to be there started stepping into the line to “help” pass the food in.

We tried to stop them but they insisted and we couldn’t tell them they couldn’t help. Next thing we knew people are walking away from the line with bags of food. We stopped them and took the bags back away from them as their aggression mounted. More people pressed into the line, more bags started moving away from the base. In our efforts to control the movements of the food and the efforts of the encroachers to make off with all they could for themselves, suddenly I realized a brawl had erupted into full swing. I tried to push the boat off the shore before it could be overrun but the people had already tied a rope from the boat to the shore so it couldn’t leave. Ermithe was on the boat and wound up in a tussle with a man who had scrambled onboard and tried to snatch a bag of food.

When the crowd realized I had ordered the boat to cast off and was working to free it from the line holding it to shore, that’s when the rocks started flying, targeting the members of our team, onshore and on the boat. Ermithe’s brother was hit in the rib cage. As I struggled to free the boat from the line, I felt the shock of a rock crack against my forearm. Richard was grazed on the arm and he grabbed the guy he could see nearest with a rock in his hand, swinging him off the shore into the water.  We finally got the boat untied and pushed off and I immediately ordered everyone into the house.

The rocks flying through the air at us weren’t small stones. They were big rocks and they weren’t being tossed either; they were being slung through the air with lethal intent. If someone had been hit in the head they could easily have been killed. So our team made a guarded retreat into the house and locked ourselves inside. The people continued to throw rocks at the house for two solid hours. After that, they gathered in the yard next door and celebrated their “victory” like a bunch of terrorists after a terrorist attack. Early the next morning we gathered a bunch of guys together and were able to unload the rest of the food off the boat  The next day we gave every bit of it away to the communities.

On Sunday evening 25 people showed up at our gate. They were a delegation sent from the community Odo Kachiman, the village over the hill which had been almost entirely destroyed by the hurricane, and where we had gone a few times before with food and prepared a meal to feed everyone in their village. They had come to check up on me, inquire if I was okay, to express their deep gratitude, to say “thank you” for all I was doing to try to help them.

With my arm hanging in a sling after being stoned for trying to bring food in to hungry people, it warmed my heart greatly to have them come and express not only their concern, but also their heartfelt thanks. I should also mention that we have experienced no problems with the people at Raquette, another small village on the island we have taken food to. We will continue to work on developing a delivery system that will be safer and more practical.

Leaving Ile a Vache Monday morning

Monday morning, we temporarily left Ile a Vache.  The last three visiting team members except for Ricahrd flew home the next day.

We are on a mission this week to the mountains of Pays-Pourri near the Dominican border where the Chapelle school we support is located. The trip was planned before the hurricane.  (Update about that trip coming soon.)  We hope to be back to Ile a Vache and the southwest coast Thursday or Friday of this week.  Do you want to go back to Egypt? – Bill

(Obviously no one was taking pictures during this “event”.   Please pray for us as we consider how to proceed to bring help and hope under these circumstances to the villages that desperately need it.  Thank you for praying for and supporting JUST MERCY!)