january 12

It seems a bit obvious, I suppose, to write about the earthquake on its anniversary. Although I am currently in Haiti’s central plateau, a good distance from Port-au-Prince, I imagine that the city is bustling with a few more foreigners than usual, paying a sort of twisted homage to an event and a day that took away and changed so many people’s lives.

In many ways, I’m no different than any of those other blan (foreigners) who have fit Haiti into their lives’ itineraries for a brief time. In the months after the earthquake, it felt only right to try to help, whether by donating my money, my time, or, in the end, finding an opportunity to come work in the country itself. In June, I arrived with droves of other would-be do-gooders, anxious to try to do my part. By chance, I ended up working with one of Haiti’s very best organizations and have had, despite many frustrations, a remarkable personal experience. These have been, without a doubt, the seven most difficult months of my life, but I am lucky to have spent them as I have. I have no doubt that there are hundreds, probably thousands, of other people that could share a similar story.

I went to an event today with employees from several of our rural branches. There were maybe 50 people gathered and, as it normally works with my organization, I was the only foreigner. It was a nice ceremony – the branch directors said a few words, we sang songs, said some prayers, had a moment of silence for those that were lost a year ago, and planted a few trees as a group. At one point, the director who was running the ceremony asked if I’d like to say a few words, and I obliged.

My kreyòl, although not perfect, comes pretty naturally now. Despite that, I had a difficult time finding the right words to communicate what I was trying to say. In some ways, my speech felt out of place. I, after all, was not in Haiti when the earthquake hit last year. I did not lose friends or family, as nearly every other person in the room had. Although I know it’s irrational, it was difficult not to feel a little guilty, as if I am somehow undeserving of my good fortune. I talked for a couple of minutes about something or other, and I finally realized my point (after it had already come out of my mouth, of course). I told them, “I wasn’t here with you all on January 12th, 2010, but I’m very happy to be here with you all on January 12th, 2011.”

I meant what I said. I have good friends here, Haitian and otherwise. Most of my Haitian friends at that particular meeting also happened to be my employees, so I hope they like their boss as much as their boss likes them. Although it has taken some time, I have built a small community of people here that I care for and trust. It’s home.

On a broader scale, too, I am happy to be here. If there is anything I’ve learned about Haiti, it’s that I should have always been learning about Haiti. It is striking to me now that I lived and worked for nearly three years right across the border, on the same island, and hardly paid attention to the place! Not to mention the twenty or so years prior to that where it might have ever crossed my mind only a handful of times.

So, on a day when the world’s focus once again shifts towards Haiti, I’ll add my voice to the chorus. I will do my best to advocate and work for a just and democratic society not just today, but every other day. I, like most others in my position, will probably leave Haiti one day. I hope that it’s only in body, and not in spirit.