the Road Club

Ezekiel is either entirely insane, or the most inspirational man I have ever met.

After being at his church in Baron a few months ago, Matt and I decided to start supporting the school monthly.  So last week, I saw him duck in the gate, and knew he had come for a bit of help.  

Living five days on the mountain, which is a several hour drive + several hour hike from here, and then staying 2 days a week in town, which is an hour from here, I know finding the time to come to Saccanville is not easy.  Trust me, we'd do direct deposit if there was such a thing!

As his signature grin filled my office, I asked all about his wife and kids, the church, the school, and learned of lots of little defeats and victories...an unhappy wife who did NOT sign up for this whole mountain church thing when she married him, almost 200 children enrolled, several disgruntled teachers months behind on salary refusing to teach until the end of the school day, a few new converts at church, good health, grateful communities.

Then he mentioned something I've heard him talk a bit about before, but never really thought much about.  He told me on our hike that he was working with some other men on the road between their distant mountain community and the town of Baron at the base.

After forging rivers, climbing literally with my hands, and working hard not to fall over miles of rocky terrain, I appreciated hearing this.

A "road"--which really just means a path that perhaps a motorcycle could take--IS badly needed.  It would be life-changing for the community, making the medical care, market and schools of the town of Baron available to all. 

But, com'mon.  I don't care HOW badly it's needed.  Ezekiel, who is already incredibly overworked, is going to build a 3 mile road with a couple of his buddies...in his free time?

So when he mentioned it again last week, I finally had to let him know just how unreasonable he was being.  You know, that's my job.  Let people know how crazy they are.  Missionary of the Year, right here.

"Ezekiel, friend, you know we greatly love and appreciate you.  But is it possible that you are going to kill yourself?  Haven't you checked with the mayor and seen if there is something they can do for community development?"

"OH, yes.  I've checked with them and applied 7 times for help.  They said their job is really just focusing on the town folks who can pay some taxes, and that they have no interest for the poor people in the mountains."

"Oh.  Well.  Is a road really that important?"

"STACEY!  YES!  The people in the mountains have NO value to people, have NO pride, have NO access to anything, have NO work, and making a little path for motorcycles to come and go will advance the people, advance the community, make them proud, save people's lives (because they could get to the clinic), change the way everyone lives!  It would make mountain Baron a place where people were proud of their community and more united with the city below!"

"Oh.  Well, do YOU really have to do it?"

"Who is going to do it, Stacey?"

"Oh.  Well, how many men are in this Baron Road Club of yours?  You and your dad?"

"160."

"WHAT??!!?" I almost fell out of my chair.  "You have 160 men working every single Saturday on the road?  Where in the WORLD did you find 160 men?  How are you paying them?  How are you getting them to work? WHAT??"

"Stace, I passed 600 men sitting in their front yards doing nothing just between Cap and here.  There are tons of men able to work!"

"Well, yeah, but.  How in the world are you getting them to work?  I mean, you're not PAYING 160 men, are you?  Ezekiel!"

the city of Baron, at the moutain's base

"How could I pay 160 men?  I don't even get paid myself!  NO.  Every Sunday after church, we have a Road Club meeting.  There are 160 members--20 women, and 140 men.  We meet every single Sunday, we talk about the progress, we talk about the plan for the next stretch, and I remind them again, over and over, why this is important.  I keep them inspired."

"What in the world do you tell them?"

"I tell them that Haiti is OUR Haiti.  And that Baron is OUR Baron.  And that our families and our houses are OUR houses and families.  And that NO one is going to take care of it if we don't.  That no one is going to improve things if WE don't.  I tell them that God has given us good health and a beautiful mountain so that we can WORK and take care of ourselves, and give Him glory.  I tell them that we must do what we can to give Him glory."

"And then they spend from 6 am to 1 pm every Saturday morning in the hot sun, pick axing rock?  160 men!?"

"Yep, and then I feed them all lunch."

"WHAT?!?" (This is really when I started leaning towards the HE-IS-INSANE side of things.)

"Yep.  I feed them all lunch, and then everyone goes home."

"How in the WORLD do you do that??  Ezekiel, your hands are shaking as we speak. When was the last time YOU had lunch?? How can you do that?"

"Well," he shared, somehow still patiently, "Every time I hike the trail up or down, I'm talking to everyone, here and there, and the road project often comes up, and sometimes they thank me for working so hard to teach their kids, to share the Gospel, to work on their road.  So I say, Yes, and we could really use YOUR help, too, even if you can't work.  Could you give a little corn?  A few beans?"

"So, on Saturday morning, people from all over the community bring or send a little of this and that, and the hours that we men are working, the 20 women are cooking it all, and then we split it--whatever we have--160 ways."

I am floored.  This is the kind of thing that most missionaries/foreigners would deem impossible.  Just not gonna happen.  Would only happen if a missionary or organization fed everyone, paid everyone.  I start to feel a bit sick...like maybe "we" foreigners have ruined things.  Like maybe all of our "help" has been a crippler, not a liberator.  

"And the community gives enough food every week to feed 160 people?"

"Well..., yeah."

"So, quite literally, the entire community is building this road, over streams and through the mountain, by themselves, with no help."

"Yep."

"And you have physically built and put together a school, for 200 mountain kids.  And brought Christ to the mountain, and built a church, and lead it and teach in it and evangelize the area, and teach Sunday school and lead worship and preach and try to care for your family AND you are organizing and inspiring and pick-axing all of this."

"Well, yeah.  I mean, who's going to?"

silence.

"Ezekiel, you know you are doing what most people--like, uh, ME--would say could NEVER be done, right?"

"Oh, no, Stacey.  I never have done anything impossible.  But, you know, God does, sometimes."

"Ezekiel, you are either entirely insane, or the most inspiring man I've ever met."

Sheepish grin.  "OK.  Well, see you next month!  Thank you!"

It wasn't until later that day when I was trying to wrap my mind around this whole thing again that I realized that's how a lot of people must have felt about Jesus.