In the Blink of an Eye

What just happened?

I looked out the window of the airplane fighting back the tears. I was so confused. "Is this really happening!? I'm leaving?"

I quit trying to fight the tears... here they came. Fast and furious. I wiped my eyes so I could at least catch my last glimpse of Haiti and try to see some of what happened in downtown PAP as I flew over...leaving.

Just 9 hours ago, I told my dad on the phone that I had emailed my advisor at school and asked her to drop my classes for the semester because I was stuck in Haiti. I wasn't coming home for at least a month or maybe three. They weren't letting anyone that wasn't critically injured leave. Or at least that's what I thought.

Last night I went to bed asking God for the strength to be here for an indefinite amount of time. I was scared, but also really excited about my trip extension. God brought me here for this time and that was exciting. I still don't sleep well. The tremors wake me up. And each time one comes I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack and throw up, all at the same time. But I knew God had me there for a reason. To accomplish His purpose...and... Now I'm leaving. Deserting.

I woke up at 5 am to a big tremor. Shortly after that I heard a voice through my window say, "Get up! We have a flight out for you all." Immediately I hope that the flight is just for the group from Kentucky, but then they handed me a paper to fill out also.
I asked, "Do I have to go?" Of course, the answer was yes, I had to leave. I didn't get a chance to think about it or say goodbye to Sheryl and Susan, the nurses I'd spent the past 3 days with in the clinic.

(This photo was taken Wednesday, about 24 hours post quake. This was the best we could do for smiles)

I got rushed to the car and we left. That was it. We had 10 minutes to pack 5 minutes to fill out paperwork, then got in the car and headed to the airport. What happened was Samaritan's Purse was sending a plane with doctors and equipment to Haiti and they didn't want to take an empty plane back to the U.S. They offered to take our volunteer group back on their return flight. So off we went to the airport.

The airport was total chaos. People everywhere trying desperately to get out of the country. Some were in wheelchairs and had make-shift splints on their legs. Most had dried blood on them and still fresh cuts. Yelling, SCREAMING, in Kreyol. That was the first time I ever felt somewhat unsafe because of my skin color.



After waiting outside a while we walked through the airport. We were trying to walk quickly to our plane, but also were shocked at the sight of the airport. No one got exit stamps on our passports. The only security I went through was showing them the cover of my American passport. They didn't even check the picture. I exited the airport through what used to be a wall, now just a hole. Got on the plane and tried to see what I could from the runway. I have never seen so many planes on this runway. Planes from Jamaica, Switzerland, France, U.S, Virgin Islands, Canada, Italy... It was crazy.

I walked onto the most luxourious plane I've ever seen. Recliner seats, couches, TVs with tracking devices to show us where we were en route.



I always go through a form of reverse culture shock when I re-enter the U.S. But this time was different. I was leaving at a time of unspeakable need. On a luxury plane! Thankfully there were about 10 different newspapers in the plane from the past few days, so all we did the whole trip was read the paper and then trade with someone else. Before I knew it, we were landing. None of our families knew that we were coming home because communication was too difficult and our flight out wasn't a guarantee.

So first thing I did after landing was call my dad.
*ringing, ringing*

"Hey honey I'm in a meeting I'll call you back in a second."

I thought: *WHAT?!?! A MEETING? Wow, I thought you'd be a little happier to hear from me.*
I said: "oh... ok. well... I just wanted to tell you I'm in Florida."

Then he realized it was me. His voice caught for a second and then, gasped. (He thought it was my mom calling.) But, of course, once he found out it was me, we talked. Even though I was still wishing I was in Haiti, I know my parents were glad I was safely on American soil.

The meeting that my dad was in was with Andre Clemons, Joey Arceneaux, and a few of his other colleagues in the oilfield buisness. They were renting a plane to fly down doctors and medical supplies to Global Outreach to assist in the relief efforts. And they did. That plane flew out almost one week later, delivering much needed help to those people. These men mean so much to me, and some of them I haven't even met. They just knew that I was there, which made it more personal to them. Some of them have only met my dad once, but God used those relationships to further His kingdom and save His people.

After a quick phone conversation with my parents and a text to some friends that I knew would spread the word that I was home safe, I got my luggage and headed to the main airport. We then had to figure out how to get to the Miami International Airport (MIA) so that we could get home. The cheapest form of transportation for 10 people was a stretch limo. REALLY? a limo! So, you're saying that I just left the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, in its time of greatest desperation, on a luxury plane and then was transported from one airport to another in a limo? wow.

We got to the Miami Airport and the group from Kentucky said their goodbyes to go catch their plane. I went to try and get my ticket changed because I was originally supposed to fly the next day. I was still wearing my scrubs because after the earthquake I started wearing them to sleep in, in case I had to wake up fast. I didn't get a chance to change before we flew out. Also, I thought it might help my case some... I was wrong. The lady at the ticket counter told me that my ticket was "invalid" because I "went out of sequence by skipping my PAP to MIA flight."

I did my best to stay calm and dry-eyed, while explaining to her that I had just come from Port Au Prince. Maybe she'd seen it in the news recently? All the flights were canceled because of the huge natural disaster, but maybe she missed that memo.

I finally told her, I didn't care what she had to do, or if I had to pay for the flight, I needed to get home that night. I turned around to see a group of about 5 Haitians standing around me at the counter, waiting for me to finish my conversation with the ticketing agent. They were eager and hopeful to hear good news. Asking me if I knew so-and-so, or had heard from their sister or brother. Thinking maybe of the 2 million people in Port Au Prince, that I had met them post quake. Both hope and despair filling their eyes as they asked their questions. I could see that they all wished they were me, and had been there for the quake, so at least they would be able to try and find their families. But they were stuck with no flights out. I felt them thinking *Why did she leave? How could she do that?* and I agreed, I wish I had been able to stay.

But God had other plans.