My friend Nate Miles, a man who loves public policy, politics, community service and his family with the same passion that he brings to living life in service to God, has been working in Haiti for nearly two weeks. Below is the first of three guest reposts I am making from the emails he has sent to friends, family and co workers.

Take a moment to reflect upon the journey that he shares in these dispatches, and let us all appreciate what we in our state and nation enjoy.

Your partner in service,

Reuven.

A DAY IN HAITI

As most of you know I am in Haiti this week on a humanitarian mission with Medical Teams International (MTI). I serve on the board of directors there and have been impressed with their work for years. Since the earthquake first hit, we have sent 10 teams of doctors from all over the United States into the country to provide aid and relief to those in need. I am also so proud of Eli Lilly for their tremendous donation of medicines, cash and prayers for this nation. I have always been proud of my company and colleagues, but when I walked into that dirt hut and saw the desperate faces on patients waiting to be treated, my heart sank and then I looked into the makeshift medicine cabinet and saw among all the other supplies the big red Lilly. I do not speak French or Creole so I could not explain what I do, but when I pointed to the name on the box, the hugs and cheers of Merci’ were something I will NEVER forget and will always share with my colleagues.

We are here to assess the work of our 10 teams have accomplished to date and help put in place a longer range plan for dealing with life after the emergency part of this crisis is over. Most importantly how do we help them prepare for the impending “disaster after the disaster”? This is what is expected in 3 – 4 weeks when the rainy season starts and more disease and strife will be thrust upon this already decimated place. The public health hazards could be one of biblical proportions.

Like most of you I have sat at home and felt almost helpless to watch scene after scene of devastation. I felt that I had to do more. That’s when God made it possible for me to go to Haiti.

We have all seen the horrific pictures coming out of Haiti, however, all the videos, pictures and news reports you have seen could not prepare anyone for the sheer devastation that has taken place here. More than a month later, there are still bodies on the streets in the hill country, open rotting sewers, tens of thousands of orphans roaming the streets, people walking around with the dazed looks of disbelief and the smells…The horrific smells. As strange as it may seem, is very easy to distinguish from the smell of rotten garbage, toxic fumes of pollution and or the unmistakable smell of decaying bodies. Block after block, turning into mile after mile of nothing but rubble, damaged buildings, destroyed dreams and broken hopes and shattered lives.

There are so many homeless people, who are just walking aimlessly in any and all directions. This quake destroyed so much of downtown, where the more educated, more skilled workforce was. This has been a double whammy as many of the deaths were the best and brightest Haiti had to offer. It was the up and coming leaders of tomorrow, the businesses that were going to help bring them into the 20th and one day the 21st century. Then in less than 10 short seconds, time stopped and a living hell began.

It at times can be overwhelming, like today while at the makeshift hospital, where we walked through the pediatric amputation “ward”, if you can call it that. Actually it was a row of tents with people sleeping on the ground after just losing a limb or two. These poor innocent children who have had their lives so drastically changed sat bandaged in conditions you could not imaging for a recovery room, but this was better than so many others who wait outside the fence trying to get in. Only armed guards hold back their desperation to rush the doctor teams on duty. I was here that upon seeing the cutest little 4 year old girl that it all hit me. As I reached out my hand to shake hers, it was only then did I realize half her arm was missing. I felt a tremendous wave of grief try overtake me, and my eyes wanted to fill with tears, The along came Little Sebastian!

This irrepressible, little scrawny 8-year old, missing his right leg from the knee down, came around the corner to a chorus of cheers. That snaggletoothed smile and ashy face, almost kept me from noticing the crutches he used to get around. He was clearly the Mayor of this place. Cameras flashed and people, doctors and patients alike, hugged and fawned over him then brought him to meet me. He must have recognized the saddened look in my eyes because the look he gave me said, “man up”, whatchu looking so sad about, I’m the one with no leg, but you don’t see it stoppin’ me”. I immediately took to this very Nate Miles like persona and we became fast and chummy buddies. His indelible spirit, is but a snapshot of the irrepressible spirit of the Haitian people. There are hundreds more stories like this since we arrived last week, but I am going to stop and go to bed as we have an early morning tomorrow. If you would like to see some of the videos and pictures please log on to the link below and sign up for the sharesite. My only request, hug your kids and say a prayer for Haiti.

God Bless.

Nate Miles

(second email dispatch from Nate)

HAITI UPDATE

Well this will be real quick email tonight as the generator has again failed here in our camp. It is not much, enough to cook, run the well pump and charge our computers and cell phones, just in case we get the spotty coverage around here (where is that big coverage map I saw on tv?). However, that is not the case tonight. We will spend tonight with no light, except that of our few flashlights, which have precious few batteries. I share sleeping accommodations with 25 or so people, mostly doctors from the main land and about 1/3 are locals. We all have our tent or pallet upon which we sleep.

This darkness gives one time to reflect on the Haitian people who have been in the dark since the sun went down around 5:30. We at least had generator power until now it is 8:30. I can’t imagine the fear some of the children must feel in the darkness of the tent cities and slums we visited today. The doctors go in there to give treatments and talk to residents about prevention of other diseases. The medications we take for granted to cure simple things like ring worm or lice or some small topical infection are snapped up as fast as you can dispense them.

However, as I lay here, outside in my bug tent on the ground, I can hear the children singing what sounds like a spiritual song in the darkness. There are fires burning in the camps for light and cooking. Then there are the sounds of the night. Crickets chipping, some screams, but lots of loud talking (kinda like a Miles Family reunion – smile). This tent is a long way from the home in which I am used to living, but then again it is more than thousands of locals have and besides, I am able to leave it in a few days. For many of these Haitian children, this has become their life for the foreseeable future.
We had a great day today, as we visited a large Church of God In Christ facility out in the country. Wow, out there is in some ways worse off than the overcrowded city, as the services have not yet really even begun to flow out there. No buildings have been cleared or restorations started, but life has gone on. The clinic that was set up there in the church sees about 500 people a day with only 2 doctors and a nurse (and some of us think we have heavy workloads). The people are so patient. They sit there hour upon hour with their kids, no toys in the makeshift waiting area, no TV, no Barney videos. But still they sing.

Albeit in Creole, I know the rhythm of “Amen” and “Swing Low”. I have heard “Precious Lord” many times before, whenever my mom was troubled or when our family was in need, but never have I heard it hummed so beautifully by this very tired mother holding her child, who obviously had a broken arm. But the child did not cry and was fascinated when I showed him a video on my cell phone. They start lining up at 4 or 5 in the morning and some even spend the night at the door to get this service, so they are not about to be disruptive and get put out by the armed security guards.

The staff sleeps in the facility, which was in the middle of construction before the quake. I don’t know how they keep up the pace, but they are back every morning, singing praise songs and healing babies! I hope you get a sense of what is going on here through my writing. There is pain, hunger, helplessness, anger, fear and devastation. However, I must say there is hope. There is lots and lots of hope. Hope in the streets, in the camps and in the hearts of these guys.
No, they may not know exactly how they will get out of this one, but many a Haitian believes as I do, that God will never leave them nor forsake them. The wonderful work these volunteers are doing, the difference the medicines that Lilly and the other Pharmaceutical companies are sending, the dollars some many people around the world are sending is making a difference!! Keep us in your thoughts and prayers and pray for the people of Haiti and the less fortunate in America and around the world.

Good night and God Bless

https://www.sugarsync.com/share/dvpj0236kesck

Nate Miles

(Third email dispatch from Nate)

SOME PARTING THOUGHTS

It is with great deal of mixed emotions that I write this email tonight. I can’t believe how time has flown since I got here last week. Tomorrow is my last day in Haiti, and I have to return to another world. I won’t say the real world, because what is happening here is very real. I started saying good bye today to Pastor Andre, Miss Margaurite, (if I ever had a Haitian mama, it would have been her. I must leave Little Sebastian and his cadre of friends and fans. I must leave the mud tent villages of Croix-des-Bouquets, and the G’s orphanage in Carrefour, giving hope to so many.

I will miss Areyou, the 10-year old girl and her 4 year old brother, who would wake me in the morning by staring in my face until I felt that someone was watching me. They would want to see what “Uncle Nate” would teach them today. How to write new words, how to add number or just a new game on my phone was the highlight of their day. I will miss laughing at the sight of a waaaay overcrowded city bus. The city bus has legal seating for 10 but carrying 25 passengers, kids on top, older people sitting Boys holding onto the sides and riding the bumper. The buses are so over loaded, that the boys have to jump off and help give it a push to build up enough compression and then run to catch back up with it. It seems that no matter how crowed it may be, no one is denied a ride.

This whole trip started out as an idea that came about because of my daughter Sophie and son Noah. They were so worried about the kids of Haiti, so they made wish list of items, so that anyone who came over to our house would know what to send them. Some of the things needed to be brought in person.

After being asked by Rev. Jesse Jackson to go there and when my colleagues at Lilly stepped to the plate and so graciously opened their hearts, giving millions of dollars of products and a lot of cash too, I decided to follow the call and come with MTI, who needed to come here to assess its next steps.

I can see where one could feel pity and sorry for this country, or so overwhelmed you would not know what to do. However, (and I know I am an eternal optimist), I really do believe that the world has seen this unprecedented human tragedy and is going to make some major changes in how we provide real aid and assistance to countries and people in need.
We are starting to see signs of mental health decay, like when the children were asked to draw what they were feeling and the scenes were so sad and depressing. However, when asked to explain the pictures to the doctors, some of them would be smiling the whole time. Out in one village we visited today, a young girl, I will call her Alice, just sat on a dirt mound all day rocking and laughing to herself while the other kids played around her. However, maybe a sister or cousin always made sure she was never alone. No bullying her, no name calling or teasing, as they would each take turns sitting with her and sometimes actually rocking along with her for 5 or ten minutes at a time. That’s what I call real family values.

I am further encouraged by seeing a changing of the guard in so many places. Here in Leogane, near the epicenter of the quake, nearly 95% of everything that was standing collapsed. However, the group of people who were put in charge to make the decisions on rebuilding the town is a group of talented young professionals. No they don’t have all the latest technology, but the cell phones and computers they do have they are being put to good use. They are respecting their elders and making sure to keep them abreast of their plans, but in return, the elders offer advice, support and encouragement and not divisiveness so much.

During a break in between meetings this afternoon, I saw some families digging through the rubble of what use to be their home. I decided to give them a hand to help them salvage what they could. Although we did not understand one another we seemed to know what the other was doing. Whatever language barrier that existed, was broken down when a young girl found part of one of her old dresses. She held it up to her chest and just wept. Since you don’t see many tears, I felt I had to hug her as I would either of my kids who were grieving. The others saw what was happening and immediately came around her and me. They all stated talking at once in Creole and realizing I did not understand, they just clutched their heart and hugged me…No tears, just hugs, one people, one heart.

Finally, today I did something so life changing, that it startled even me. We went out with The World Food Program (WFP) to do food distribution. I am sure many of you have seen the pictures of the kaos that can erupt and sensed the danger the workers have felt. That is where I was today. 6 kilometers deep in the brush with no cell service, no armed guards or any of my “homies” from East Pasco. We went into a village of about 200 families to check on the food distribution in the area. Well, when they say us arrive in our jeep, they figured more food was coming. Upon inspection we found that the distribution for the next week had already been done, and there was no more than what was left in the nearly empty storehouse.

I cannot explain the tension in the air as we were surrounded by a large crowd of men and women who looked very displeased that there was no more food being brought in. I flashed back to those scenes of people rushing the place, a little afraid of what could happen. My heart began to race as they all closed in around us 70 or 80 of them only 5 of us. I said to myself, “Lord you said you would never leave me nor forsake me and you brought us this far to do good”. It was at that moment that the local Haitian community leader, who we took with us and is involved with our organization said; ”Wait, do not take this food, it is for the families who have not made it here yet today”. “Further, let’s show order to these, our friends, who are bringing us medicine, and more food later and who are here to help us.”

It was amazing, the respect they had for this man. The desperate, frustrated look in their eyes turned to warmth and adoration. The store house was not touched, even though it had no lock on the door and I know many of those people were suffering from malnutrition. No one rushed us, except to give a hug or two. We took pictures and they walked us to the jeep. One spoke to me in French and the translator said “He said, promise you will come back, promise that you will not forget them. I could never forget them and the world should not either.

As I drove off for the last time, looking at all the face of the kids who went back to playing in the dirt, mothers cooking over the open flame pits and seeing the strong young men breaking the bricks to get the steel out of it for salvage. There was no sadness, no remorse…no time. No only a sense of pride in their poverty and a spirit that said “trouble won’t last always!” I was reminded of the scene from The Color Purple, when Mister said to Celie “Nobody want you po, you Black and you ugly” and she says “I may be po, I may be Black and I may eeeeeeevn be ugly…BUT I AM HERE!” Yes, the People of Haiti are still here and as the poem “Invictus” goes, “Head bloodied, but unbowed”. So I say good-bye to you, for now, from Haiti, May God continue to smile on this place, its people and the people in need around the world and at home.

Nate Miles