When we arrived in Port au Prince, my eyes were opened to a level of poverty I have NEVER experienced in any of my travels. Some of these people are surviving daily in houses, (these would be considered shacks by first world standards) built on sides of mountains, which would easily be wiped out if ever there was a landslide. In these places, there is no access to water or any kind of indoor plumbing, not to mention the fact that getting up and down the mountain would be a chore in and of itself. But people escaped to the mountains after the earthquake, thinking it might be safer. Still others exist in mere shelters made of whatever they can find to stand up to light rains. These would be the equivalent in size of the old Canadian 'pup tents,' which would basically fit one person comfortably-- here there would certainly be more than one person squeezed into these shelters.
Yet each community, village, or small town we passed through was filled with people who were working hard, or helping each other with normal tasks, like fixing vehicles, or washing clothes. Haitian people are proud, and they do the best they can with what they have in order to get by. This may not fit into our description of what is 'normal,' but I don't know if our 'normal' is the best way either. I always tell our kids that they don't need to feel guilty about what we have, but they need to remember that it's important to do what we can to help those who don't, whether it's in our community, or somewhere else in the world. I firmly believe that once children get involved in 'service learning,' they will carry it with them for life, because you don't have to have money to do something that's going to feed your soul. More than ever, we need our kids to be the ones who learn to pay it forward.
When it came time to leave the orphanage, there were lots of tears as we hopped into the van...the same one we arrived in with more cracks in the windshield than there is clear space to see through! One of the hardest to leave was my little friend, Karena, who was just about 1 year old when she lost her entire family in the earthquake. She was found by a young girl who brought her to Karen, and over the last few days I was teaching her the words to 'you are my sunshine' in English. Whenever I saw her, she would sit on my lap and say, 'chanter,' and we would sing it together. She always emphasized the 'happy' and 'I love you,' because I'm sure those words were the ones in English she was most familiar with. No wonder there were tears...
The drive to the airport to begin the journey home was quite different from when we arrived, not only because we were within inches of our lives at one point--there were 3 vehicles traveling at highway speed in a space designed for 2, with one of them coming at us in our lane--but my view of Haiti had been drastically changed. There was no need for photos this time...sometimes, as Karen said, the best photos are the ones you take with your eyes. These photos are more than moments on a page or paper... these ones are the ones that make you smile, or sometimes cry, with just a thought.
I am taking so much home with me after this week, and the boys are curious to hear about the trip and all the children. I am only a few hours away from returning to my 'normal,' but I will continue to carry the children of HATS with me until the next time. They will continue to grow and learn in a safe environment at the orphanage, and I will go back to my 3 little treasures and fantastic husband who supported me in giving me 'time off' this week, (and my parents who stepped in to help too) and we will all do what we can, as best we can....and so it goes....
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