“It is better
to do a good small thing many times over than to wait your whole life for the
best big thing that may never come.”
What
happens when your work abroad was incredible and life-changing, and allowed you
deep multi-national friendships that you know you’ll keep for life, and
affirmed your commitment to your organization…and was also wounding and disillusioning,
and left you feeling betrayed by some of the people that you truly cared about,
and threw into question what you really thought you could give and what is
actually needed and/or the organization can provide?
In some
ways, my time in Haiti was one of the best experiences of my life, and in other
ways, I sometimes wonder what, exactly, I accomplished there, and why I was
even allowed to go in the first place….
I
feel like this dichotomy was perfectly illustrated by the first week in October:
I
volunteered at the NPH gala the first Saturday in October and it was one of the
most fun and rewarding nights I’ve had in AGES!! The excitement and energy was palpable, and
there’s something magical about being with and working alongside so many people
that are sincerely passionate about the same great cause. I was lucky to be asked to run the slideshow,
so I got to see to see the entire gala unfold, and it was truly inspiring. This year, after living and working abroad at
one of the homes, the gala had a special meaning for me—I recognized many of
the people and places highlighted in the slideshow and I felt like Frank
(Donaghue; President/CEO NPH USA) and Reinhart (Koehler; Board Chair NPH
International) were speaking directly to me…ha.
We raised almost $600,000! In one
night! Such an extraordinary amount when
you think how far that money can go.
Six days
later, I woke up to an e-mail sharing the news that yet another person—the
fourth in two years—was robbed and shot in front of St. Damien hospital. An electrician who helped the team that
manages generators, solar panels, and the power grid, in collaboration with the
German volunteers. He was shot in the
face, and robbed for probably (to most Westerners) a negligible amount of
money. Five days later, I received
another e-mail that, despite all measures taken, he died from his injuries.
Although I
didn’t know the victim, I was crushed to hear this news…I could have known
him. Or it could have been me. I can clearly picture the gates in front of
St. Damien—I passed there almost every single day I lived in Haiti, and
(although we were not supposed to) I walked in the streets many times…. Sadly, receiving a heartbreaking dispatch
from this country is not new. I feel so
many emotions every time I think of Haiti—I’m wistful thinking of how much I
loved parts of my time there, and how much I miss my friends. I’m guilty, thinking of how I left (and how
used to people leaving most Haitians must be).
I’m angry and frustrated, thinking of how unfair life is, and how little
Westernized countries know and/or care about life elsewhere.
Working in
Haiti has affirmed both my joy, gratitude, humility…and also my feelings of
loss, grief, and helplessness. The more
time passes, the more questions I feel like I have…and I certainly don’t have
the answers.
However, the first flash of
peace I felt in relation to this incidence was thanks to the response of a
friend who wrote, “Let's just make today an awesome day. All we can do,
right?!”
So
simple. But at the same time…yes, all we
can do.
