Thursday, 19 November 2015
When I
heard the news about the horrendous terrorist attacks in France, one of my
first thoughts was actually of Haiti—a number of the worldwide friends I made
there were French. Although none of them
live in Paris, I still felt a stab of fear that perhaps one of them was in the
wrong place at the wrong time…a slideshow of scenes from Haiti flashed through
my mind in an instant: Alain playing
“Buffalo Soldier” on his guitar at FWAL while all the kids sang along; Camille
cheerfully (and in flawless Kreyol!) greeting some shy local kids we passed on
a walk in the mountains in Kenscoff; Dr.
Didier nimbly leaping out of the van after a long day volunteering his services
at St. Damien.
It’s
strange because although I knew each of these people only briefly, I felt like
I was touched deeply at some point by all of them, and I think part of that has
to do with the fact that I met them in Haiti.
I don’t know why everything that I lived in Haiti stands out so boldly
to me; I’m sure it’s for a number of reasons.
I think what it comes down to for me is that life there was very simple,
so experiences were amplified, and also, time in Haiti stands out because it
offers both a challenge and a feeling of purpose.
I think
living/working in Haiti is an incredible opportunity for anybody from a western
culture who’s used to being overconnected/overscheduled/overeverything…to be
able to see what’s right in front of you.
The limited communication and mobility make it so that there is rarely
anything more important than what’s happening right this second--every single
person you meet is exciting in some way, and an opportunity to connect, to
learn something, to build a bridge, to forge a bond.
In addition
to that, you remember why your work is significant. Everybody, everywhere, wants to be doing
something important and something that really matters. I love living abroad and learning new
languages, so I certainly had self-interested reasons for going to Haiti…but
also I’ve always had the desire just to be compassionate and loving and help
people when I can. I left Haiti feeling
bruised, so I know I haven’t found the balance…but I also know that when I was
there, I was inspired and energized by the many wonderful people I met and
their talent and ideas for improving the future.
I go back
and forth thinking we just have to try harder…and wondering if I’m naïve and delusional
to believe that just being a good person and working for change can
matter. Every time I hear something new
about ISIS, I feel defeated for a moment.
But also—regardless of how broken and battered I returned from Haiti, I
received infinitely more than I gave and I still believe that the only thing
that matters is love, and an open mind, and open heart…and that if you see the
best in people, they will rise to your expectations….
When I
wrote to check in with my French friends, I got a beautiful response: Alain told me that after the attacks, people
were welcoming locals who were too terrified to take public transit into their
homes to stay. And then he remarked that,
“spontaneous solidarity is a piece of sunshine in this bereaved sky.”
This is why
we do what we do….