I spent the last week flying supplies out of Santiago into Haiti with a hysterical Canadian named Rick. The flying was much more like the flying I usually do... short trips around mountains and weather, and I enjoyed it very much. We shuttled orphans, delivered food and shelter. I got to see some of the smaller towns that Agape regularly services. We stayed with a local ministry team in Santiago that has been putting up anyone that asks since the earthquake.Couchsurfing at a whole new level meant th
at 28 people were our housemates on the first night. The first night, Rick had got a piece of metal in his eye from his plane's rarely opened (due to Canadian temps) airvent, and there just happened to be an opthomologist staying at the house that had just come out of Haiti with all his tools. The doc had him drugged and sorted in no time. Two eyed pilots are much more valuable (that said, I tried to get him to wear an eye patch, but he was having none of it.)
Leaving the Canadians to their own devices, I was to jump on an outbound Agape flight on Friday. They called and asked if I would be willing to escort some orphans from Children of the Promise Orphanage in Cap Haitien through the bureaucracy in Port au Prince and back to the states on the US Embassy plane. Sure, these kids have all be in the adoption process for years and have been cleared to the USA by the Haitian Prime Minister. With another pil
ot team in a C-414, I picked the kids up in Cap Haitien, where their orphanage (Children of the Promise) is, flew them to PaP, and then sent the other pilot and his plane on their way. I met Maria, a COTP field director, and Sarah, one of the adoptive parents; and we went to the US Embassy. They checked all the documents for the 6 children, confirmed that they were cleared all the way to the US, with Haitian permission and US visas.
Since the Idaho/Baptist/orphan debacle, no children have been allowed to fly out on private planes, so everyone is moved to the US They told us to wait for the embassy plane-- a military transport-- and then they would shuttle us to the airport. We waited. For 5 hours. Then an embassy official came out and said the flight was cancelled. No plane guaranteed tomorrow or the next day either. In fact, we might be done flying those planes. You're free to arrange your own private transport. Let them know and they'll approve it.
Luckily, I've been working with a flight organization. I call Agape and the dispatch team had a donated plane available within hours to send down the next day.We scrounged up somewhere for us three adults and the six kids to stay, and organized approval with the embassy for our private charter flight. They were all thumbs up. They told us not to come back to the embassy, but to meet them at the airport at 11:15am, and they would hand over the children's paperwork to us for them to clear in Miami. The embassy insists on maintaining custody of the paperwork until the children board the plane to the States.
We arrived at the PaP International airport in a taxi at 11:15. No embassy people. Within 5 minutes, we were surrounded by an angry mob. They tried to take the children from us and yelled that we were stealing the country's children. The police intervened. The police took all of us and the mob ringleaders into custody. The embassy had still not arrived, and since we didn't have the paperwork in our hands, the police were suspicious that the mob was right.
An hour later, the embassy arrived, US paperwork in hand. The police said it wasn't enough. They wanted to see the PM's signature. Back to the embassy, get that piece of paper. Nope, its a forgery... you'll have to get a new one. And guess what... the PM doesn't work weekends. There was clearly a testosterone match going on between agencies.
The woman from the US Embassy looked at me and said: "I guarantee you'll be on that plane today." Our pilots had arrived and threw their hats in the fray. Everyone at the airport with a badge got involved: now not only the embassy, the police, and the pilots, but the US CBP, Haitian Immigration, and a guy on the street selling gum.
The woman from the embassy looked at me and said, " I guarantee you guys won't end up in Haitian custody."As the situation stagnated between various opposing forces trying to prove they had more power at the expense of six scared little kids, most of the people left do do other things and the pilots said they had to take off. The police insisted on moving us to another station and continued arguing with our low-on-the-totem-pole embassy team. They crammed all the adults and the kids into the back of a police car and we bumped through traffic while 'We are the World' blared on the cop's radio.
Once they had us securely in their custody away from the airport, the police announced: the adults are free to go, but the kids are being detained. Right. Like we're going anywhere. The woman from the embassy looked at me again and said, "I guarantee they won't seperate you from the kids." Lady, that's three swings,and the first two have not made contact.
The police said we could go to a government approved orphanage for the night... Haitian jails don't accommodate crowds of two-year-olds. The embassy said we could ask permission from the orphanage to stay with the kids.Back in the police trucks. No music this time. We stopped at a few UNICEF tents set up in a compound and the police started pulling the kids out of the back. We followed them into a tent, where the kids were put on mats on the ground... where they would sleep, eat, and wait. The people at the orphanage never even asked their names. And Maria, who has been with most of these kids since they were babies, asked repeatedly that they be fed-- they had no meal since breakfast. Finally, a woman brought them a box of cornflakes.Could we stay with them? No. Can we sleep on the ground outside? No. Could we at least feed them and put them to sleep? No. The police insisted on escorting us out of the compound to the tune of six screaming, terrified children. Children of the Promise has friends in PaP and we are staying with them. The medical team at the apartment has given up their rooms and beds so that we don't have to sleep on the floor. Unlike our kids.
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