I’ve been on the road since Monday. L’Arche Chantal prepared provisions, so I went to pick them up. That trip cost me one tire, which burst under the weight of fourteen people riding in my old beater. I returned today to the city of misery, but not without another tire blowout (and I didn’t have all that much stuff!) and endless detours. The streets of Port-au-Prince are clogged on all sides by thousands of the accidentally homeless, carrying their entire lives in wheeled suitcases.

Tomorrow morning, we’ll head off, eight friends and four assistants from the community in Carrefour. While the capital recovers, they’ll move to Chantal. It is beautiful to see Joseph, smiling at the idea of an adventure in the country! It’s lovely to see Justine’s eyes, so brilliant and so gentle, at the thought of revisiting her friends in the heartland of the country.

And what is especially beautiful is to learn, by example, exactly what solidarity of the heart means. Already overwhelmed as it is – with not enough assistants, fourteen friends, a house that’s already too small, limited resources – L’Arche Chantal is under no obligation to take on the task of providing shelter for a group from the Carrefour community. And yet …

… and yet. There will be thirteen of us in the car tomorrow, on a big road trip south, toward the sea, toward the calm of my adopted village. Far away, as far away as one can get on this island, from the madness of the city. A forced respite, but not a vacation! Oh no! My dear friends will work hard at the Chantal workshop … as for the rest of us, there is mamba (peanut butter) to prepare, and furniture to make too!