DOMINICAN DISPATCH

Missionary returns from Haiti with wisdom of the Spirit

This is one in a series of regular dispatches from Father Fred Ruse, who was assigned pastoral duties to Orlando’s sister diocese of San Juan de la Maguana, Dominican Republic. Father Ruse resides in the mountain town of La Cucarita.

FATHER FRED RUSE | SPECIAL TO THE FLORIDA CATHOLIC

Posted: 06.17.09

LA CUCARITA, Dominican Republic | I spent Ascension Thursday in Haiti, Les Cayes to be exact. This is a city in the southern part of the country, below the capital, Port-Au-Prince. It is on the Caribbean Sea and in the part of Haiti closest to Colombia.

Along with Bishop Tom Wenski, I attended the installation of Bishop Guire Poulard, the new bishop of Les Cayes. The installation was my “excuse” to visit Haiti. And it was the opportunity to do so with a veteran “Haitian,” Bishop Tom.

Every turn in the trip, while an unknown, was a wonderful adventure. It gave me the chance I have wanted for some time to begin to explore this poorest of all countries. And, as the Spirit would have it, one of my first guides was the newly appointed papal nuncio, Archbishop Bernardito Auza. He served as my unofficial host for the trip. His companionship, along with Bishop Tom, was one of the things that emerged from the various unknowns that filled these three days.

I traveled by bus from Santo Domingo, a six-hour drive. The crossover from the Dominican Republic into Haiti happened easily. The checkpoint is sort of a hole-in-the-wall type of place, a good bit of it presently flooded. Between the two gates, the Dominican Republican gate and the Haiti gate, there is a sort of duty-free zone full of markets. I am not sure if it is really duty-free, but there was a wide assortment of sales going on in that space.

The two gates are only remarkable as they are so very small. The one on the Dominican Republic side is very narrow and partly underwater. The driver passes through it very carefully, so as not to knock out the gate itself.

Continuing into Haiti, about one and a half hours later, the road arrives in the capital. The roads in Port-Au-Prince were packed with people and vehicles. It was a crawl.

While my arrival at the bus station was fine, my arrangements to be met by a contact person fell apart. Small matter. A taxi driver took me under his wing. Of course, it meant business for him. But he was very gracious. I suspect it was God’s plan that this be some sort of assist to this man’s economy, as well as the hotel where he took me.

The next day I was at the airport to meet up with Bishop Tom. While waiting, I was “found” by a couple of priests who told me the bishop’s plane was going to be late and that we could wait inside. I noticed that one of these priests had the customary bishop’s pectoral cross. I also noticed that he was not Haitian, but Filipino. I just followed along and as if by magic, doors opened as we approached.

Bishop Tom must have pulled off some pretty spiffy arrangements, I thought.

We eventually arrived in a suite of rooms. I joined the priest with the pectoral cross in a very posh area with very comfortable couches. He ordered us some coffee. We began a bit of conversation and I eventually asked about his particular work here in Haiti and asked about the location of his diocese. I knew he was a bishop by the cross. He explained to me that he was the apostolic nuncio (ambassador of the Holy See) to Haiti. Then I knew how all those doors opened. We were in the diplomatic suite of rooms at the airport.

He could not have been more gracious and personable, and certainly unassuming.

Bishop Tom arrived and he, too, was ushered from the mainstream of passengers into this suite where all he had to do was flash his passport and forgo all those other documents we usually have to wrestle with.

With that, we piled into the nuncio’s car and headed off toward Les Cayes. Not until I tried to open a window was it explained that the car had an armor suit. It was bulletproof. That’s when I noticed that the windows were at least an inch thick … and you didn’t roll them down. Likewise, the doors were the weight of a wheelbarrow full of concrete.

During the trip I got a good history of the trials of Haiti and the dangers, as well as how the nunciature (residence and offices of the nuncio) had suffered sabotage in the past. A previous nuncio had been seized and beaten during more severely tense political days. The caution continues for now. Of course, Haiti is a bit different from those days, in some respect.

The capital is a mess – a disaster as far as traffic management and trash disposal. The cathedral dominates the capital horizon. Governmental buildings are nearby, each nearly encased in piles of garbage. Market vendors choke the streets.

It is also the scene of the poverty. I saw that reality more and more: people selling fruits and other items while positioned atop piles of trash; pigs wandering through these piles scavenging for food; children running; drainage water passing along the edge; and some piles of smoldering trash not completely eliminated by fire.

Everyone is selling something.

Later we arrived at a parish rectory where we met the priests of that parish and the mayor and some seminarians. We had lunch. I had the chance to talk with some of the priests who spoke Spanish. Amazing how Spanish has become a connecting language for me. I always spoke to these priests of their people who live and work in the mountains where I live and that I see myself, in part, visiting Haiti in their name, seeking to better understand their struggle.

Bishop Tom has a Haitian “grandmother”! She lives in Les Cayes. So, we had the chance to visit her and surprise her family and neighborhood with the visit of the pope’s delegate, the nuncio. What a wonderful moment.

Les Cayes is where Bishop Tom got his Haiti start, so to speak.

We arrived at the residence of the bishop of Les Cayes and were joined by many other bishops of Haiti. We had supper and headed off to a diocesan celebration in honor of the new bishop. Many of the parishes had prepared talent moments – singing, dancing, poems. A real glimpse of life – stunning.

The next day the ceremony began, almost on time, at 8:20 a.m. Processions of choirs, priests and bishops weaved their way toward the cathedral through the streets of Les Cayes, entering the packed church to song. The four-hour service flowed well – long, but well.

I kept thinking, though, that the gathering never really reached the feel that I witnessed when the Miami Haitian community celebrated Bishop Tom’s welcome to the Orlando Diocese at the National Shrine of Mary, Queen of the Universe. There they were really rocking and he was dialoguing with them through song and chant. The Les Cayes moment was good music, but subdued in comparison. I’m not sure what is authentic Haitian Church in that respect. Maybe the Haitian Church in exile has a different texture by nature of its exile. Or maybe something is still longing to emerge in Les Cayes.

I had a ticket to return to the Dominican Republic on the bus the next morning at 8:30. I was delighted when the nuncio told me he had to get back to the capital for a plane trip that evening. I told him to count me in for that return trip.

So, it was now noon and it was to be a race to head back. We had already planned our signals: The closing song was about to get under way, he spoke to the bishop, reverenced the altar and nodded at me. I left by one side, he the other and meeting in the sacristy, we flew to the waiting “armored” car with vestments flying. Off we went.

We arrived four hours later with enough time to eat something as we had missed the planned celebration meal in Les Cayes. I saw him off at his gate and his driver took me to the residence managed by the Little Brothers where I would stay the night and in the morning walk a three-block distance to the bus.

The return bus ride was longer as it was packed and that meant a lot longer process at the checkpoint on the border. Still, all went well.

I have so many things to share with the folks here in the hills of the Dominican Republic, certainly toward appreciating the life and history of the Haitians who work side by side with them, as well as the message from Ascension Thursday in Haiti. The message seems caught up in the motto of Bishop Poulard’s coat of arms: “Bloom where you are planted.”

Certainly, this is the way the Spirit wants to speak to the Dominicans where I live. I am sure of that. For nothing is by accident or “happenstance.” All the twists of this trip confirmed that.

Father Ruse, who was assigned pastoral duties to the sister diocese, resides in the mountain town of La Cucarita. The countries of the Dominican Republic and Haiti share the same land mass.

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