My new reality Back from Haiti

Elderly Women in Cotes de Fer

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I made a promise to myself…that I would never be afraid.

A promise never to give fear the control. However the earthquake on January 12th and the following two months confirmed that this promise, although sincere, exists in thought and struggles to sustain itself when rubble and tragedy attack my heart…my home.

I came to Haiti afraid. Afraid that my Ayiti was gone forever, afraid that Ayiti somehow got lost in the rubble. Afraid that my Ayiti-friends, family, and all that I knew would be gone.  Reality hit. Hard. Friends were gone and some of the most beautiful structures, my mile markers, were turned to rubble.

I cannot, nor will I take the “scenic” drive to see what is left of Port au Prince. I went around the city to run errands and goosebumps instantly came but not a tear fell. I am waiting for tears to fall.

I need to cry for Haiti, I need to cry for the living and the dead, I need to cry tears of rejoice that my father is alive. I need to cry for the land of contradiction. So, I do not want to see the Montana, churches, or monuments unless it is by accident and I must drive by these structures that clearly still hold the bodies of people that are now skeletons.

There are so many skeletons. Maybe that is what I am afraid of? Knowing that more people are dead, but is that really fear? It is a fact, that the dead are still unnamed and may never be completely identified and that is both overwhelming and terrifying. I have come to peace with this and I am certain that I can live with this (at least at this point in my life). The temporary state of rubble tells me that I must.

AM I leaving Haiti afraid?  Not at all, there is a different emotion that is by my side. If anything I am leaving Haiti with a sense of renewed love for my country. I am still sad and I do not know when that feeling will permanently leave, but as soon as I see a familiar face, hear a good joke or have people that say thank you for your work, I realize how could I stay sad?  Ayiti has shown so much happiness and continues to show me that through this hardship there is love. If I look for love and life I will find it, but if I choose to only look at death and rubble then I will be forever stagnant, examining what crumbled on the 12th instead of relishing what has remained.

I am sure that when I made that promise to myself, respecting my feelings was apart of the pact. The emotions that I felt and continue to feel are real and I must acknowledge their existence. Rather, I am learning more about my relationship with Ayiti and if I ever doubted my love for this country and its people, those doubts are now a distant memory.

I just realized what this feeling is. my heart is free. there is no weight – simply realities. How will I react to these situations? What tools will I use to respond to them? With ayiti, a splash of rum and love….

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~ by travelling womanists on April 2, 2010.