Edgar and Ti Gwav

One place I was hoping to go, if it would be helpful, was to the south and west of Port-au-Prince. My second and sixth area was Petit-Goave (Ti Gwav in Creole) 40 miles west south west of P-au-P and just north of the largest earthquake aftershock. My fourth area, Leogane, is halfway between P-au-P and Ti Gwav.

Our group wanted to check on the LDS Chapels in Leogane and Ti Gwav and I quickly volunteered to go as a translator. It took a good hour and a half to go the 20 miles west and reach the Leogane Chapel. Members and non-members alike had set up tents and tarps on church grounds because their homes had been destroyed and the walled in church area was a place of refuge. A 1 1/2 year old girl with a head wound was there. She wasn't discovered under the rubble of her home for three days and it was believed she was dead. It wasn't until she was uncovered and started crying that anyone realized she was alive.

I asked about a few of the members I remember at the time and up came walking Edgar with his usual smile. I hadn't seen him for almost 24 years but he hadn't changed much. Placed perfectly and sadly between the two largest tremblors, about 70 percent of the homes in town had been destroyed.

One of our group asked him how he could smile and he said "What else can you do? It doesn't do any good to be sad." It was a poignant reminder that Haitians would deal with the devastation and suffering as well as anyone. They are used to the day-to-day struggle to put food on the table, to survive. It was great to see him.

A flat tire and an 1 1/2 later, we arrived in Ti Gwav. The view of Ti Gwav bay from the mountains to the east was as beautiful as ever.

The LDS Chapel in Ti Gwav was built just behind the missionary house where I lived for a total of 6 months. It was the best house in the mission, right on the ocean. In the evening, a cool ocean breeze would blow and I'd sit on the porch and watch the periodic thunderstorms over La Gonave, an island about 10 miles out in the Caribbean.

I remember so many things that happened there, including the tarantula that crawled on me in my sleep and the rat that found its way into our room at night. I remembered driving back there to call President King after I accidentally struck a pedestrian with our car. I also remember the baptisms that we performed in the ocean there.

We drove to the west of town and came across a tent city and stopped to see if there were any wounded there. Once again the mothers lined up with their babies until we explained our doctors and nurses were only prepared to handle wounds. They brought a three year old girl with a deep head wound. A doctor and nurse worked to remove the infection and gangrene that had set in but as we were leaving, indicated they didn't think she would live.

While she was being worked on, I talked some of the people in the crude tents fashioned with tarps and sheets, including a mother of 2 boys and 2 girls, who offered one of her children to me to take to America. I said I couldn't do that because they needed their mother. She said "But I don't have a home for them to live in". I then said again "But you're their mother". And she replied "But I can't provide for them." I then thought of the words from a Haitian song that says "Moso maman se pi gwo kado, depi nan vant l'ap soufri pou mwen. Pa gin moun ki kap remplase'l, amou maman, pa gin parey". A bit of Mom is the biggest present, since in the womb she's suffering for you. There isn't anyone that can replace her, the love of a mother, there's nothing like it". By the time I reached the second verse, I had 15 people singing along with me and saw a smile on the mother's face.

It demonstrates that sacrifice that a mother will make to give her child a better life.