Dear friends and family,
We found the five of them under a Mango tree last night, to which we had been led by bandits after a release deal was cut by their families.
We were the “guarantors” that the ransom given by their families would achieve their freedom. (This is, in fact, almost never the case, until multiple ransoms are paid.)
It was a dark 10pm, made up of many kinds of darkness.
One of the kidnapped victims was a priest who I knew by name only, and with him his driver and three Church women, all kidnapped a fortnight ago.
After two hours in dark scrublands on semblances of dirt roads, we arrived at a crossroad where there were about 30 people, many wielding military sized weapons.
It was suddenly easy to spot who we were looking for.
Not by their clothes, nor by their color. They stood out because of their posture, their demeanor.
They were defeated, while all the others around them were confident and arrogant.
They embodied Psalm 129 of David, which begins in Latin “De Profundis.”
“Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.” (Because that is where I am, Lord, lost in the depths.)
We tried to get out of there with them as fast as we could, but because of fuel shortages and illegal markets, my recently filled ambulance must have had diesel cut with water, a common tactic in these settings.
The engine pump was struggling, and we could not muster a getaway above 20 miles per hour.
It must have looked comical because a heavily armed bandit with dyed yellow hair thought Raphael just did not know how to drive.
“If you want I will drive you out of here,” he offered.
Yeah, right.
As we drove out of this Profundus, in the back of my Toyota ambulance, we started a prayer.
Fr Marcel began.
He prayed for the fifty some people still in holding where they were.
He prayed for the dozen new ones who arrived every day from kidnapping.
He prayed for the souls of his fellow kidnapped victims who were killed even though ransom was paid for them.
He prayed for those who beat him repeatedly as if he were, in his own words, “some kind of thief.”
He held the side of his face still swollen from what must have been a mighty slap.
He offered a thanksgiving for their liberation.
Our five new friends stayed with us last night at the Passionist house. We had a small meal, they had showers and clean linen on their beds.
I told them our morning prayers would be at 6:30am, followed by mass. I mentioned it only so they might feel welcome, but I insisted they would be wiser to sleep as long as possible.
Fr Marcel was there for lauds early this morning. The instructive hymn, the slow and soothing psalms to begin the day. The canticle of Zechariah promising the Divine Light that will shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. The promise that our feet will be God-guided into the ways of peace.
I asked Fr Marcel to be the celebrant of the mass. He hesitated, but accepted.
I watched him respond to any loud noise outside of the chapel with startled and darting eyes.
I saw the holy bread tremble in his hands as he raised it to heaven.
I watched his genuflections on unsure knees with head bowing profoundly.
Yes, the body keeps the score.
He preferred that I give the daily lesson, which I did, but after the final blessing he addressed the handful of people present, all of whom share the terror of life under gang rule.
He said simply that he was kidnapped and didn’t know how it would end for them.
He said he did not know why they had been moved that afternoon, and then again this evening to the mango tree.
He said he didn’t know what the hand of fate was about to deliver to them, what or who they were waiting for.
He certainly never guessed he was waiting for a fellow priest.
But God gave them freedom, an end to their humiliation, and he thanked God profoundly.
I shared his sentiment.
Daniel, Raphael and I took our chances, we could not be sure how it would end for us. If the deal would be honored, or if rather we would be taken for our kidnapping value.
I didn’t even know who we were looking for except by one name, the name of the priest. I imagined us being duped and given just any five people, probably five people no one calls for, and not worth the bullets.
But yes, they are free, and I also thank God profoundly.
Let us open our awareness to the dreadful reality of human bondage. Human trafficking goes on all over the world, not only in Haiti.It is a stark reality. Where do we go from here? All of us, together, what do we do about this? Closing our eyes cannot be the answer.
For the victims, their liberation (if they are so lucky as to be liberated) is often only the beginning of a long internal nightmare.
Psalm 129, although deeply mournful, is one of the “Songs of Ascent.”
These are 15 psalms sung by pilgrims on their climb to Jerusalem and to the Temple.
We can see with Fr Marcel there is certainly possible an internal ascent.
He both feels and shows an inspired orientation to aim high from the depth of the dredges.
But the external ascent, like a pilgrimage, is something we must do together, and do outside of ourselves, as we try to heal, change and build up a peaceful, dignified and just world order.
We ascend together to a world order that forbids and abhors the bondage and bartering of human beings.
The reign of the bandits, with the many destructive consequences for society that comes with it, is very much endangering our important work, especially in healthcare and education.
We are in distress in all forms, physical, emotional and financial.
As is everyone else.
Yet, we do not surrender our hope. We do not sound retreat.
Please know how essential and how deeply appreciated is your every donation to help us, especially in these troubled times.
Peace and all good things.
Fr Richard Frechette CP DO
Port au Prince
July 7, 2023