Camping for Haiti

While most of Georgia's weather-weary citizens have been enduring tornado scares or scorching sunshine from the comfort of their homes, one dedicated man has been braving the elements in the name of the greater good.

David Youssi, founder of Irrigation Without Borders, has spent the past 10 weeks camped out above the sign in an effort to raise $250,000 for irrigation systems in Haiti. 

"It's challenging, it's very challenging. But I'm committed," Youssi said. He insisted that no matter what, he will not give up his vigil at the hilltop until the goal is met, regardless of how long it takes. 

The idea was relatively modest in its beginning. Youssi, who has been in irrigation for 30 years, conceptualized a nonprofit called Camp H.A.I.T.I., Haitian Agriculture Irrigation Technology Initiative, with his wife. Their eventual goal was to create irrigation systems in Haiti using his wealth of experience and the generosity of strangers.

"This was just something we were going to do one day when we retired," Youssi said.

It wasn't until an intriguing story came out of Haiti's post-earthquake restoration that he realized how soon he'd need to act if he wanted to make a difference.

"I became aware of a track of land in Haiti where they had tractors, seed and wells, but no irrigation for it," Youssi said. "In these countries, little kids will walk two to three miles to fill up a bucket with water and then two to three miles back. You can water a very small garden that way, but you're not going to feed the masses."

He said it takes 7,860 of those buckets to water a single acre. Proper irrigation is essential if Haitian society is to flourish. The nonprofit was thereby pushed to the foreground, and Youssi set out to earn a bit of publicity. What better way to draw people's attention than to camp above a church sign for two months running, come rain or shine?

"I get visitors every day," he said. "There are a lot of questions, people want to know how this works."

How it works is simple: Youssi comes to his campsite at sunset or sooner every day and waits for the sun to go down. When it's suitably dark, he starts a fire on what he calls his "altar" and lets the flame do its job. People who sniff around to see what's going on will then be encouraged to visit his website and consider donating.

But after 60 days on the hill, relentless changes in the elements and distance from family are starting to take their toll.

"I have not slept well since I've been out here," Youssi said. "I'm on my third pair of earplugs, and they still don't get rid of the traffic noise. One of two things happens just when I'm about to fall asleep: Either a police car or firetruck drives by, or someone on a Harley."

The struggle for a good night's rest is not inhibited only by the cars below. Three weeks ago, Youssi was visiting a friend in town and took a tumble down a flight of stairs.

"I completely wrenched my shoulder. I've been having to go to physical therapy and see a chiropractor three times a week," he said. Now church workers pitch in to help him chop wood for the fire and are nearby for other, more strenuous tasks as needed.

Youssi isn't alone in his struggle to adapt. His wife, Jenifer, though an equal and supportive partner in their effort to aid Haiti, is feeling the strain of her husband's absence.

"She told me the other day, 'David, it's time for you to start getting the word out. I want you back home.' " After all, when he finishes a long night on the hill, Youssi immediately heads off to run his company, and their time together is limited.

Jenifer even joked that she may take to picketing the highway below with signs that read, "Bring my husband home!"

With only $6,000 raised so far, it doesn't look like she will get her wish any time soon.

Thankfully, life on the hill isn't all hardship. The experience has led Youssi to moments of great personal reflection and even connected him with his community. Visitors come by in groups to talk with him. The visits begin with questions about the project but inevitably turn to life and family.

"The really cool thing a lot of people say is, once you come here, once the fire is burning, you sit around the fire and you talk. It's very, very peaceful," he said.

Youssi has held his ground at the hilltop through increasingly hot spring nights, all but one of the region's tornado scares, when he was forced to take shelter, and frequent, concerned text messages from his grown children about what is headed his way each time a weather front moves through. But he has put the needs of an unstable country ahead of his own and is determined to see it through.

With any luck, the of the Woodstock-Towne Lake community will make his expedition a fast success. Until then, he ends each day the same: in thanks, at the foot of the cross at Towne Lake Community Church.

"I'm doing something very special that I've always wanted to do," Youssi said. "I go over to the cross every night before bed, kneel down and say my prayers. That's very special to me."