Haiti - My Trip post the 2010 Earthquake
Posted: Sunday, June 06, 2010
by Rose-Marie Chaperon
Chaperon Consulting, LLC
Haiti is not a place you just visit, as Columbus would surely have told you (he shipwrecked there in 1492). It's not a stream into which you just dip a toe. Here, you dive in headlong. It drives you crazy-with love, with anxiety, with desire. You fall into its arms as if it's been waiting forever to receive you. It hasn't. In addition, as with any great-unrequited love, Haiti's indifference only makes you crazier for the place. At least that's what it used to feel like to me.
Everyone no matter what part of the world we live in should have access to necessities especially health care. Why is that some of us do not have access to anything? Five months after the January 12, 2010 Haitian's earthquake, I finally had the courage to visit my family in Port-au-Prince. After all, I had many plans, but stress, sadness, and depression were not on my list of expectations. In March, my wait was finally over. I could finally fly directly to Haiti and confirm in person that my parents and sisters were in good spirit.
Like so many others of Haitian heritage living abroad, I needed to see with my own eyes, to garner my own proof of my family's existence and to be able to finally whisper, "You are really alive." I've made hundreds of trips to many airports, getting ready to fly to work, but my trip in March, bound for Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake, held a whole different kind of anxiety for me. As my plane landed on the runway, I couldn't help but wonder, "What in the world had I just gotten myself into and how would I feel upon returning to Kansas City?" However, I was also eager to get to get there to see those left behind.
The flight from Miami into Port-au-Prince was short, but it revealed a harsh view of the ravaged Haitian countryside. Upon descending, I could look out both sides of the plane and see many military ships awaiting passage into the harbor. Similarly, when we stepped off the plane, there were rows of tanks and very large aircraft that covered most of the runways. Once I cleared customs in Port-au-Prince, I walked down the steps of the Port-Au-Prince airport. The air was heavy with humidity and I immediately started taking off layers of clothing. A local Haitian band was playing Calypso music for donations. In a sea of vibrant fuchsia, orange, and red clothing it was easy to spot my cousin, sister and mother, then my heart opened up with joy.
My mother, although a very beautiful woman, she looked fatigue, sad, dehydrated and at the same time happy to see us. I rushed past waiting faces and fell into my sister's arms. The sister, I finally got to meet for the first time. Looking up at the hills and seeing rows and rows of houses that looked as though they had just rolled down the hills was ominous. Thousands of people crowded the streets as we drove through horrible traffic. Some looked as though they were headed somewhere, others just slowly walked, still looking shocked and confused.
I was uncomfortable at times, as I was riding in the car. Whenever we stopped, there was mass movement of people weaving in and out between the cars and although no one was ever threatening, it was a bit unnerving. I knew what this city looked like before the earthquake. I couldn't believe the mass amounts of trash scattered everywhere. As we drove through the devastation, it looked as though every building had been simply picked up and dropped back down. Tops of buildings crumbled under the impact, walls turned to dust, and structures had cracks from top to bottom. What were once beautiful churches, government buildings and homes were just gone. All classes of people were now at the same level and in the same situation. Separation by class had disappeared.
While driving to my mother's home in Carrefour, we passed blue and white tents sheltering homeless families amid the endless piles of rubble. Buildings and houses were crushed like papier-mch. Roofs which had once provided shelter were now at ground level covering homes, gardens and, no doubt, people. As a woman of faith, I turned to God and prayed that the lives that had once made these structures so vibrant were joyfully welcomed into a sturdier dwelling - God's home.
I needed first to pay homage to all the lives lost, buried under the rubble, and to those who had the strength to endeavor to rebuild in the wake of this unimaginable tragedy. I knew the journey to Haiti would be emotionally, physically, and spiritually challenging. I did not expect to be so overwhelmed by the huge number of dwellings destroyed in less than one minute, to be so poignantly aware of the sentences that where half-completed, the exams that were half-done, the lectures that were interrupted, the prayer circles that were broken and the lullabies that ceased to be sung. Once we reached our parents' home, tears of mixed emotions cascaded down our cheeks. They were all alive! While the survivors remain a focus of the world's attention and compassionate hearts, I prayed that the rebuilding efforts will give Haiti a future infused with physical and emotional security.
When we reached my mother's home, I was happy to see everyone, especially my beautiful and wise grandmother. I cannot remember the last time in my life I was happy and sad at the same time. At bedtime, I was afraid to go to sleep; I lay awake wondering if this killer quake would return, all of the sudden I was sweating. Finally I went to sleep seeing stars, and awaken to birdcalls. Some of the birds are roosters, which start crowing at about 4:30, but other than that it is amazingly quiet there.
The following day, I woke to go for a run; people were looking at me wondering if I was crazy, as I digress. I started out to describe the beautiful sunrise I got to see because of getting up so early. With all the buildings around there is not much sky to actually enjoy, but I decided to go for a run and found a gorgeous pink and yellow sunrise. Here in Port-au-Prince, the mountains are in the east so they block a lot of the sunrise, but this morning with the clouds from the rain still hanging in the sky there was a great canvas for God to paint in many different hues. It was a great way to start my day, but I was a late starter compared to the local population.
I passed hundreds of people at that hour dressed up, on the way to school and work. The amazing thing is that everyone is wearing white shirts and ties, nice dresses and flat-heels. You would never guess that they have just walked one or two miles on muddy roads until they get to our main road, where the public transportation is constantly coming by to pick them up. It puts me to shame on so many levels. I'm out of shape and under-dressed, but I'm here and doing my best to help.
Whenever the power is out, usually from the morning until 10 p.m. there are very few lights in the area. Although the houses are a million dollars in size, they are only about $100,000 complete. People do have mortgages here, but many build with the cash that they save from year to year and pay as they go. They don't owe the bank interest, but they also have to wait a long time to move into the house.
My mother is one of the lucky ones whose home remained standing during the quake. Her home is next to a hill, the situation at the top of the hill makes the views incredible, and I can see out to the bay to the northwest and out to the border to the east. The most amazing contrast is the 3,000-to 4,000-square-foot mansions in my neighborhood staring into the Internally Displaced Person (IDP) camps where people are sleeping in makeshift homes with U.S. AID tarpaulin sheets draped over flimsy wooden supports.
Now that the rains fall three or four times a week, the misery level is increasing. The news that the international community has not forgotten them is comforting, but there is not much hope for the future when all you own is now in an 8-by-15-foot shelter perched on a hillside next to 10,000 of your closest friends.
As we drove through the streets, walking through neighborhoods and talking with so many people, we were flooded with emotions. Through all the death and devastation, glimmers of hope could be seen and heard in various places. We were told that when tremors would come, people would sing songs of inspiration and hope. People were gathering together, from all races and economic levels holding hands, crying and singing praises to the Lord. Prayer meetings were spontaneously popping up. Individuals were sharing stories of how they had been spared and God has saved them for a greater calling. Many said that they were just thankful to be alive. These strong resourceful Haitians that we have admired for so many years were once again rising up from all the rubble, with many holding strong to their Faith.
Finally the next day, I had enough of Port-au-Prince; we decided to change the course of the trip to visit my hometown "Les Cayes". My visit to my hometown, Les Cayes was a refreshing one. As we left the city, the atmosphere was different that of the one in Port-au-Prince. People seemed happier, less stressed than those of Port-au-Prince did. Although we got many looks from the natives wondering what brought us to the city, however; it was different.
The trip was not intended to be a family reunion, it ended being just like one. We drove to Les Cayes with my newly found sister, my wild-hearted cousin, and my mother; in the course we ended up visiting many family members whom I did not know existed and saw many long lost friend. The welcome we received from these family members were warm and sincere. We stayed at a close family friend's home at "Simon". Simon is located west of the city of Les Cayes" the city is known for some high dollars design architectures. As we walked into the house, we were greeted by a 10-year old orphan named Pouchon. Although Pouchon was taking care off, he seemed lonely. We called ourselves adopting Pouchon for the weekend. He ended up spending time with us and became part of the family for the weekend. Pouchon had a blast, looking at his face and how protective he was of the girls when young thugs were approaching them was all the reassurance I needed to know that this kid was meant to be with us.
Of course we had to go to the beach, we visited Port-Salut. Port-Salut is a coastal town in the Sud Department of Haiti and the hometown of Haiti's deposed president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide who was born there in 1953. Port-Salut is a popular destination for local Haitians as well as tourists to a certain degree seeking relaxation and tranquility due to the beautiful beaches that the town is surrounded by. The area has yet to be discovered on a mainstream tourist level. With proper management and investment, Port-Salut could become a major tourist destination in Haiti's country whose tourism industry, full of potential, has been struggling for decades. The beach was one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seeing.
I made the trip with the intention of rekindle with one special person other than my sister, I wanted to see someone else. Her name is "Himenise". My mother used to constantly remind me that Himenise saved my life. When I was around 3 years old, I had a disease which nobody was able to treat and living in the city did not do my mother justice. I was very tiny, I was having difficulty thriving, and dying. Himenise was on her was passing by n her way to the mountains. She noticed my mother crying not knowing how to save my life. This Good Samaritan picked me up and asked my for her permission to treat me. My grandmother was related to Himenise, they instantly trusted her and handed me off to her. She took me to her hometown "Carrefour-Joute" and took care of me for several months. A few months later my mother visited me, and there I was the new little girl I was meant to be.
Himenise lives on a 3-mile high steep rocky mountain, my cousin and I along with a friend of my mother's took a 6-hour trip to the mountain to see Himenise, I was very disappointed that I was not able to see her. During the 6-hour trip by foot, we shed every drop of sweat we had in our bodies, we stopped and chatted with the locals, met a few young men who instantly wanted t take us out on dates. On the way back to the city, something happened which made the trip worthwhile.
I met a beautiful 32-year old young woman sitting on a porch with her family. Her skin was shinny and vibrant like silk, she looked like she needed to be on the cover of Ebony. The young woman had migrated from Port-au-Prince to Carefour-Joute after the earthquake. She had a fractured leg and was unable to neither walk nor go to the doctor. I instantly wanted to help. Not knowing what to do, I sat down and spoke with her for a while, not wanting to leave and not knowing what to do. Then it came to me, the money I wanted to give to Himenise could easily go to this woman, so I did just that. Words cannot explain the look and gratitude in that family's eyes after receiving the money from me. One day later I received 20 apricots from that family as a thank you, that night we had an apricot party and shared the rest with my friends in Port-au-Prince when we went back to the city. Himenise saved my life 30 some years ago, I felt like God directed me to that rocky steep mountain to pay it forward. My mother was not to happy about my gesture, one thing I said to her is that"We all complain, but most of us have it pretty easy". Sure, there are rough spots along the way. It happens to all of us. Why not help someone who's going through a rough spot? This young woman needed help and I was able to provide it. Besides a random act of kindness goes a long way.
Life Lessons Learned
I've always been grateful for the people and things in my life. I can say with all honesty that I came back with a renewed sense of what's important to me. As Americans, we rush through our days complaining about traffic, about how slow service is at Starbucks, about how we can't afford the latest and greatest gadget. Seeing the Haitian mother washing clothes in a stream that's polluted by waste, then filling her water buckets up to take that water back for her family to drink. Hearing the story of a man who walks 8 miles one way to go to work in a factory, for pennies, made me realize how spoiled many of us Americans really are.
I always carry at least one lesson back with me from every encounter, and going to Haiti was no exception. The difference is that I'm willing to share this one: When you go home tonight, look around at all you have. Give your spouse or partner an extra hug and kiss. Spend a few more minutes with your kids, kiss, and hug them tightly. Give your pets a couple of extra treats and notice how they live life in the moment. You never know when your time together will end. Let all of the people in your life know how much they mean to you. You only get one turn in this life, make the most of every minute you have
Please keep Haiti in your prayers because it will need lots of help for a long time. We are praying that all the mistakes of previous years are now exposed and that people will be able to learn from them.
This Article has been viewed 385 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
Top-level comments on this article: (0 total)No comments yet.
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.