...God owns the Hills as well. (Haiti Day 7)

This land is surround by sprawl
In every direction people, homes, destruction
Yet the land remains.
In a land of squatter's rights, no one took root
In the years of expansion, it was left alone
and now it is ready for use.

A rough land, despairing, wet muck, not suitable for people.
Even in this country of pervasive perpetual poverty, people could not see the value of cultivating the land
and they left it alone.
We walked it, and the land's despair became our own;
How can this be habitable?
Fear and doubt take root - I cannot do this.

And the Lord speaks to me
First in a whisper, to comfort my soul
Then in a shout, declaring His might:
<em>"This is my land</em>
<em>and I choose to redeem it</em>
<em>to bring it to life.</em>
<em>It has remained fallow til this day,</em>
<em>for such a day as this."</em>

If God is confident then I choose to believe,
to trust in the repair of this land
which no one wanted
which will not drain
which is <em>too</em> flat
To have faith in the one who created.

He broke me, and then redeemed me
Opened my eyes to my own darkness, and then brought me into the light.

We are most ready for God at moments of humility,
Whether that be me,
or a people broken and surrounded by darkness
or a plot of abandoned property.

<em>And as for me, I know that my redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth - </em>Job 19:25
<em>For every beast of the forest is mine. The cattle on a thousand hills</em> - Psalm 50:10

You're Jewish, right?

While waiting in the US Customs line yesterday in Miami, a gentleman in front of me was carrying a large carving.

Alan: "Do you mind letting me see? ... That's pretty nice... Where'd you get it?"

Gentleman: "Haiti."
Alan: "Oh, I just came from there myself"

Gentleman: "What is your last name?"
Alan, a bit baffled at the random question: "Bowling"

Gentleman: "Oh! I thought you were Jewish!", said with a bit of disappointment.

Alan: "No, but I get that a lot, especially from my mother-in-law."

It's about from here to there (Haiti, Day 4)

The government is required to perform a survey for the buyer of a property before purchase, all for the generous price of $250 / acre (the daily wage for a laborer is less than $10.)

Grace was given the Lambi property that we have been designing as long as they paid for the survey, which showed 7 acres, was obviously done in an office without a sight visit, and bore no resemblance to anything on the ground. As we performed a site survey based upon the marker description (painted tree, painted bush, old concrete column, and another painted tree), we found the site contained 4 acres. Having the government surveyor come out (for possibly the first time) to discuss the discrepancy, our project surveyor NEGOTIATED the land until we ended up with 6 acres:

Grant (our Surveyor): "With these markers, we only have 4 acres"

Gov't Surveyor: "Oh, well, how about you extend that line from here to there."
Grant: "That gets us about 5 acres"

Gov't Surveyor: "Hmmm, maybe you ignore this fence line and take that portion over there. That should get you your 7 acres"

Neighbor, standing to the side: "NO, that's my property!!!"

Gov't Surveyor: "Good Point, well, how about we just move the line to here. Will that be OK?"

Grant: "It's 6 acres, but we can live with it."

The ministry folks know this property (one of many they are master planning for permanent homes to re-house the 20,000 people on the front lawn) as the "7-acre tract". Tonight, in our presentation of the site design of the tract, we clarified: "The 7-acre tract has 6 acres".

They are still calling it the '7-acre tract'.

This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land (Haiti, Day 3)

Property Rights are a fundamental right in the United States. Our first President was a Surveyor, our third was a major proponent of the Land Grant College system and sent two men into the pantheons of boyhood lore via the traversing of a newly purchased half-continent.

We do not generally conscious of the legacy of the our forefathers' priority in this matter. Without thought, we intuitively recognize our own right to 'our land', 'our house'. We bought it, we inherited it, we have enduring markers embedded in the ground displaying to others the extents of our ownership. We have deeds, records, courthouse filings. We have Clerks, Judges, Surveyors. All of these entities there to provide a proper security over our Title as Land Owner. And in the rarest of circumstances when even these features fail to protect, we have Chicago Land & Title company providing us a low-cost insurance plan in case some indiscretion is found later.

This is not true in many countries throughout the world, even some first world countries. This plays havoc on the poor of the world. If you do not have a proper title and legal system to uphold its validity, then land ownership is based upon 'power', and the weak, the poor, the orphans and widows of the world are forever prevented from obtaining land.

Such conditions deteriorate an economy, or rather, prevent its growth. If a person cannot trust that what they have is their's to keep, they will, over time, disregard the property itself, will be too hesitant to invest in its upkeep, will allow it to descend into disrepair.

There are many issues surrounding the individual Haitian. This is one I have experienced this week and found very frustrating.

Beyond... (Haiti, Day 2)

It is always a good reminder as you enter a new country to get a feel for 'timing'. This was achieved in 3 hours of waiting in the Port au Prince Warehouse (I mean, 'Airport'), as we stalled until our trip liaison arrived. The 10am site visit, per our well-intentioned schedule, began at 5pm and was a race against the sun.

Grace International is a light in a very dark storm. I cannot believe how unbelievable this place is; the team has tried to talk our way through the overall state of this land, and it does not add up. There are gaps at every level, and it would take a Dr. Vanegas-style flow chart to even establish the basis for a prognosis, not even beginning to lay out a treatment plan.

I struggle on multiple levels - this engineer is aghast at the trash, the rubble, the half-built buildings, the half-collapsed buildings. In my best John Wayne impersonation, I want to turn to the masses (the 20,000 people tented outside my window at the moment), and challenge, "Give me your best, who will work hard, long, with a vision for the future...", and then I realize I am not John Wayne, and this is not a Warner Brother backlot.

There are signs of life, and signs of death and signs of change and signs of stagnation. I am proud to be here and hope that what we are involved with provides opportunities and hope for people who have been given a fairly difficult lot in life.

Let it begin... (Haiti, Day One)

11 days ago I was surreptitiously approached by a friend at the Association of Christian Design Professionals conference and asked if I would be willing to travel to Haiti on short notice. We were just finishing rolling the chapel and throwing spit-balls at the elderly volunteers, so I was a bit preoccupied: "Sure".

Then, backing up, I qualified my statement: "I'll have to check with my three authorities first: God, Maggie and Gaskins," assuming one of them had a good reason to keep me at bay.

I probably should have found a stronger means of disqualification, as I now find myself arriving in a hotel room in Ft Lauderdale and setting a 3:30 am wake-up call to get the team to the airport for 5 days in Carrefour, Haiti, staying at Grace Hospital and designing a 500 person neighborhood. Or, as Duane rumored, attending the grand opening of the new Sandals resort.

I suppose that last comment is insensitive - I have a history of dealing with overwhelming things with mild sarcasm. I'm pretty sure we are about to see the overwhelming, about to enter the unfixable, about to attempt the impossible.

My dad commented the other day, before this trip was sprung, that Haiti is beyond repair. He is likely correct, judging from the last 100-years of support and where the country has floundered. If there is a God-sized project anywhere, it is in Haiti. I am not an overtly spiritual man in my words, although I try to be in my prayers. But it is clear to me from my suburban tower that Haitians need a breakthrough, and that God is the best route for that transition from the oppressed to freedom.

And as well, even though we are preparing a home for 500 people in a 20,000 person tent city, and that seems almost a waste, it isn't. For the people with a new home, a new garden, a new factory and farm and proper outdoor toilets, it will not be a waste.

My prayer is that I am a man after God's own heart in these days ahead.