Looking for Some Relief

Haiti Family Inititative

Jacmel, Haiti

Sunday, July 14, 2013 - I am alone at the moment, in Haiti, in a boarding house. For $50/week, I have a room, a shared bathroom and a meal a day. There is no air conditioning but there is a floor fan right next to my bed. The electricity is controlled by the government and runs from 2PM to 4 AM only.  That means that my inadequate fan dies promptly at 4AM with a click that wakes me up and fills me with dread.  My dark room, with its closed window to prevent a mosquito invasion, now becomes an oven.  The mosquito net now becomes one more barrier to any cool relief.

I step out in the dark hallway, and feel a cool breeze from somewhere. So I go back to my room and find something to prop open the door.  A bag of beans crammed at the doorway allows just enough of a breeze to sneak in and offer some relief.

I finally fall asleep again but the roosters start to announce a new day.  They call back and forth to each other for the better part of an hour.  Now the household is up and moving.  I hear someone scurry pass my door and head to the bathroom.  The bath water has arrived.  I get up and think to myself, “This is going to be a long two weeks.”

Afterthoughts- Leaving Haiti 2013

LEAVING HAITI- After Thought

I am on the plane now, heading home after spending a summering Jacmel, Haiti.  I ran a Wellness Program for  the local people.  I have been surrounded by so many people but now, I am sitting alone for the first time in  weeks.  I can’t seem to settle myself.  I can’t figure out how to think or what to think about.  Since January, I have thought about this trip.  But now, it is over.

It’s hard to say that I had a wonderful time in Haiti. How can you have a wonderful time when so many people are hungry, sick, out of work and void of any dreams?  Maybe I should say I feel lucky.  I feel lucky to be here, to be an American, to be retired and able to travel like this, to have been born into my family, to have lived a life filled with love; this provided me with so many opportunities, to have been an educator.  I feel lucky to continue to have had these opportunities that challenge me and enrich my life. But I continue to wonder what is the meaning of this thing  called life.  I am overrun with all sorts of questions pulling at me and tormenting me.

• Why were the Haitians born where they are and why was I born in the richest country in the world?  Is this life sentence of poverty some sort of reincarnation plan? 
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• Why do I have so much and they have so little? 
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• Why is their life so simple and hard?  Why is my life so convenient?  
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• Why do I have so many opportunities for good health, good education, good food, good times and good use of my time?
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• Why are all of their basic needs, everything, a struggle for these people every single stinking day?
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• What do they pray for?
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• How do they stay hopeful?
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• Do they struggle with their difficulties as much as I think they do or so?  Is their life really the struggle for them as I think it is?  Does a millionaire think my life is a struggle?
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• How do you deal with consistent hunger?
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• How will the old lady eat when I leave?  How many other old women are out there, on their own, abandoned and living a life in so much isolation? And why weren’t the Haitians outraged that this poor woman is all alone in this harsh world?  Are there just so many of them that nothing can be done about these people?
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• How are they ever going to recover from too many years of government corruption and natural disasters?
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• Why can’t their leaders understand and commit to helping their people?
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• What does President Montelly think when he sees thousands and thousands of foreigners come to his country every year to help his people?  Does he feel grateful or inadequate?
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• How can we instill the same interest and admiration of education in American kids as many of the Haitian kids have?  Do you have to be hungry to appreciate the value of an education?
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• How do I say goodbye today to these wonderful translators who work for free for the sheer reward of trying to improve the quality of life for their fellow countrymen.  I am not that altruistic.
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• Will I ever return to Haiti?
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• Should all of my travel from now on, have some component of giving back?
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• Now that I have seen and lived this poverty, do I have a deeper responsibility to do something to eradicate this poverty?
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• What is my responsibility to the rest of the world?
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• How do I walk away from here today and go back to my regular life?  
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• What is my regular life now? 
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• What have I learned from this experience?
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• What do I do next?
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• What is the purpose of my life?