I started writing after my trip to Pignon, Haiti less than a year ago. It was a life changing trip, and I want to make sure I never forget the people I met during my two week stay up in the mountains. When I tell people about my trip and life in Haiti, it helps me to remember how blessed I am each and everyday. I did a lot of public speaking after I returned, but like all things, the outside interest subsides. I will not forget the mothers and girls who worked everyday to survive. With no electricity, no running water, no communication, no refrigeration, limited medical care, and difficult travel, Haiti is as rustic and impoverished as it gets. I hope to continue my writing on Haiti and return there someday with my girls, as they get old enough to travel. My husband has also traveled to Haiti (we both traveled without each other) and has a passion for Haiti Outreach as I do.
March 2008 – As I stand in a steamy shower allowing the hot water to rush over me, I am reminded of my trip to Haiti just a few short days ago. It is actually the thought of water that transports me back to a people struggling everyday to find and carry enough water home in order to survive. I end my shower short, feeling guilty about the many gallons of wasted water making its way down my drain and out to our septic system. Would a Haitian person be disgusted with our wastefulness? My guess is that they would not comprehend a life of ample clean water and indoor plumbing, much less luxuries of swimming pools, hot tubs, lawn watering systems, front loading washing machines, dishwashers, and drive-thru car washes.
Most Haitian people can not afford to pay the couple cents it costs to ride a “tap-tap” truck, Haiti’s loosely termed public transportation. The few who do have vehicles in Haiti certainly adjust to the intrusive layers of dust that cover everything from trucks and kids, to foliage and food. Just as a trek to a clean water pump is certain each and every day, so is the layer of dust on everything. I traveled during the dry season, so dust is rampant and rain is scarce. While a light rain would be nice to wash everything and subdue the dust, blessings carry curses in Haiti. I feared rain more than any Voodoo witch doctor’s curse. You see, when it rains in Haiti, there isn’t enough vegetation and stable land to withstand the movement of water down the mountainside. Roads quickly wash out leaving those with vehicles in turmoil. The dust turns to mud and everything becomes slippery and dangerous by vehicle and by foot. To walk along the road in Haiti means certain falls, trips, slips, and toe stubbing on rocks, at least for Americans. The Haitian people maneuver with grace and ease, often without shoes. It is common to see a Haitian woman carrying a large container of water on her head, leading a small child to school with her right hand, and guiding an overloaded donkey by rope with her left hand, all while walking with poise and grace over roads that would outrage even the staunchest anti-gas tax people in America.
Handing out suckers at an orphanage
I am a better mother after having looked into a Haitian mother’s eyes and seen the hope and determination that fills them. I am a better mother to my children after holding children at an orphanage knowing the the quality care they receive can never replace the love of a mother.
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I also spent 10 days in Haiti. One particular day, I stayed back from the rest of my group and spent the days with the “cooks”. There were three ladies who came and spent every day with us. They walked miles to where we were staying with their families laundry on top of their head in a basket, or else produce or groceries that were needed for our meals. It was dark when they arrived and dark when they walked back home. They did our laundry the day that I chose to stay and converse with them. It was a challenge to communicate, but we made it through the day. They washed our clothes in three tubs. First, just water, then in soapy water by dipping the clothes in and out of the water, then immersing them again in clear water. They rubbed each clothing article together between their fists and then repeated the steps. They hung the clothes on the line to dry, later turning them over to dry the other side. They were all washed, dried and folded and put on the table very neatly when the rest of the group arrived back home. I marvel at how hard these ladies worked, yet always had a smile on their face, yet had a contagious laugh. Many of the children also were very happy and their white, sparkling teeth always shone through against their dark complexion. The kids did not have a toy, not even a rubber ball to their name, but they were happy. Waving at us as we drove by, laughing and smiling and perfectly content to play in a pile of dirt. I will never forget the trip to Haiti~ it always brings me back to reality and reminds me of how much I have.
Yes, Cindy, I agree. Some days I long to go back to Haiti. Although it isn’t doable right now, I really do miss it. I follow a few of the following blogs, and it is fun to see familar faces and places around Pignon where we were.
http://mafkrul.blogspot.com/2009/02/shuffle-shuffle-shuffle-crunch-crunch.html
http://highwaytohaiti.com/2008/10/14/power-in-the-blood/#more-90 (this one is written by the people I recognized and talked to while in Haiti-I found their blog on Google prior to going to Haiti and had been following it)