People often describe Haiti as "hard" and I get why they say that, but for me, Haiti is comfortable. I know to most people that won't make sense, but it has become my 2nd home, so the hardness that others see is replaced by familiarity instead in my mind. There are so many images burned in my mind of things I've seen and experienced in Haiti, some good and others hard to relive, but still they leave me feeling nostalgic, especially for the people I have shared those experiences with. Aside from homes I have lived in and places I've worked, Haiti has to be the place I've spent the greatest portion of my life. People always ask me how many times I've been to Haiti, so the other day I flipped through my passport and counted 13 trips total. I'm guessing that equals about 18 weeks altogether, so that might explain a little better why its my comfort zone. I have many friends there, even some I consider "family" like the Pierre's and the 2 kids I sponsor through NVM. In fact, its hard to remember my life before I had the perspective that Haiti has given me. I wouldn't trade those experiences for the world, even those that have left my heart broken.
But this time was different...different for many reasons. I guess the best way to describe it was I felt uncomfortable for the first time in a long time being in Haiti. In some ways, not much had changed.
As soon as we stepped out of the airport, the smell of burning rubber and diesel hit me and it was like I hadn't been gone for 2 years. As we took the usual tap-tap ride through Port-au-Prince though, you could see some improvements along the way - less trash, more commerce, and new construction. On campus things are changing too. The children's home has moved to campus and is now 2 separate houses - one for the boys and another for the girls. Almost all the American staff that were friends of mine have returned to the States with a new crew taking their place. Even much of the Haitian staff is different. But as they say change is good, right? I miss the days when the wifi was horrible so we would all sit on the roof and talk/sing/play games instead of staring at our phones checking Facebook. I can't even begin to explain the changes in all the kids I've seen grow up over the last 6 years. It's amazing to see the ways they have grown - physically, mentally, and spiritually. Some I could barely recognize, that is until they would call across campus, "Shewi!" I love that sound! Through the week, I just had this overwhelming sense that I didn't "belong" like I have always felt in the past. I felt like a stranger in a way, and that was unsettling and uncomfortable.
The thing that made me most uncomfortable though, was the thing that surprised me the most. When most people think of Haiti they think of extreme poverty. Most families live day to day and struggle to meet daily needs that most of us take for granted. I have seen all of this first hand, but in many ways have become accustomed to it. I wouldn't even say it's a bad thing either. It's just I've come to realized that they are happy with what little they have, which is more than we can say for many
Americans, myself included. When you visit Haiti, you start to realize they may not possess many of the luxuries that we have, but they are rich in many other ways. I envy them at times for the simple lives they enjoy. How relationships are WAY more important and they aren't slaves to "things." How they hunger for God because they need Him to sustain them through each and every day. I guess in my eyes those things make them rich! Then I spent the morning in the nutrition clinic that NVM
started about 2 years, and it broke me. It broke me to see a 10 month old little boy who weighed under 10 lbs sitting listless on his mothers lap. It broke me to see 2 children discharged from the program because they were losing weight, most likely because their mom had to decide to share the Plumpy Nut with her other 4 kids or sell it to feed her family. It broke me to hear stories of kids whose legs are swollen from lack of protein in their diets. Or those whose hair is discolored due to lack of vital nutrients. It broke me to realize I probably threw out more food before I left the States then these kids will see in a week. Most importantly though it broke me to know that there are many more kids like these who aren't able to receive help because NVM can only support having 20 kids in the program at a time. We had some success stories that day - 2 boys discharged after reaching their weight goals, but in my mind I knew there were hundreds more out there to take their place. I had to come to the realization that this
should make me uncomfortable. I shouldn't be able to see those things and walk away without feeling unsettled. I believe it was Bono who I saw quoted once regarding people being victims of latitude. By no fault of their own, other than the place they were born, children live or die. That should shake me up a little. It doesn't mean I should feel guilty for being born in America, but rather make me come to the realization that with my affluence comes great responsibility...responsibility to play my part, whatever that may be. So for know, I'm embracing that uncomfortable feeling, knowing that it will lead me to my next step...
