"Haiti is a nation of contrasts,” says Rodney Babe, who meets our church’s team of mission workers at the airport. We soon understand what he means. BMWs and Hummers are weaving through the open-air market in Leogane. Someone is boiling a cow’s head to remove the hair for sale, and the smell mingles with odors from mounds of decaying garbage, fresh mangos, burning charcoal, diesel fumes, dust and assorted frying meats. Later, along a steep slope in the mountainous terrain miles from Leogane, electricity, running water and any hint of technology, a little boy wearing a cast-off Dave Matthews Band T-shirt greets me with, “Bonjour!” in perhaps the only pure French remaining in the Creole dialect.