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Haiti 2012: June 9

Our trip from the orphanage to the airport went quickly, but something was different about the drive. We were so overwhelmed on our first trip by the activity, poverty, and pollution of the city that we could do little more than take it all in. This was so true that I felt almost fatigued by all that we saw, though we were also tired from our flight.

This year, on the other hand, I felt like I could look more closely at the details of what we saw on our drive. I noticed the lush mountains, receding one behind the other into the horizon, and understood then why a book about a doctor's work in Haiti could be called Mountains Beyond Mountains. In Port-au-Prince, I saw the people less as one conglomerate thrust moving in droves this way or that, or working in their respective businesses en masse. Instead, I saw their faces, their desires for their respective futures. This was, perhaps, sparked by a man I met at the orphanage, Angelo. This guard wielding a shotgun and charged with protecting us allowed me to peek into his life as he talked about planning to marry his girlfriend in December. He asked me, at one point, if I could speak with him more, if I would be willing to teach him English. It would, he said, make him more marketable for employment. In short, Angelo wanted a future.

As I think about this now, I see that men like him aren't too different than many of us in the United States, or Mexico, or any other country. We all see that there is something more in life. Dreams may play out in different languages and within the confines of different cultures, but they all express our need to hope, to hold onto something-- or someone-- greater than what we see now. This is what I'm beginning to see about Haiti. It is a very spiritual country, not least perhaps because of Hatians' familiarity with tragedy. Earthquakes, flooding, hunger, poverty, and political violence remind them again and again of their circumstances; but I see now that their humanity lifts them beyond circumstance: just as the mountain behind the orphanage reaches to touch the sky, though still under the haze that covers its landscape, so the people of this place reach beyond their present to find a better future. I know, too, that there are many people here who want to be apart of that future, to hold the Hatians' arms up in their effort. I only hope, if only for a moment, we were apart of that purpose. Haiti may be a place of tragedy, but I am convinced now that it is more powerfully a place of hope.
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