I've been looking at my children a lot lately. I walk around in a fog. Contemplating. As someone put it...I am physically here in America but my heart and spirit are in Haiti. It is physically difficult to exist knowing that a part of me is not doing well. The bible says it the best...when one part suffers, all the other parts suffer with it. I know for some, we are dying inside. We are grief stricken, some depressed, others helpless, we are weak yet trying to be strong and faithful..looking for the silver lining and a time to catch our breath.
I look at my children. I am looking them over with different eyes. What are my children wearing? Why do they have so many clothes? They have more clothes than me. What are they saying? What are they talking about? What are they interested in? Are they too self centered? Do they watch too much television? Will they be compassionate people when they grow up? What matters in their little world right now? AND THEN I ask myself. Well, who needs me more? The people in Haiti or my own flesh and blood. I ask myself, at what price am I willing to go and help? I have heard stories..maybe fables?...tall tales I pray...of the earthquake...of volunteers being shot at and some killed. As I'm shaking my head in disbelief, my sadness and empathy turn to anger and disgust. Biting the hand that feeds you? Come on! But couldn’t this be me? Couldn’t I go into Haiti with my heart gushing, desperate to help and to encourage and end up medi-vac'd out or worse...dead?
I last went to Haiti more than 10 years ago. Even then, my friends and new acquaintances could tell that I was "not from around there". They would ask me where I was from and take turns guessing. They would say Guadeloupe? Martinique? Why you ask...because of my accent, the way I dressed, the way my skin looked and the texture of my hair, my feet, even the heels of my feet and the whites of my eyes! My whole demeanor, posture, all of it was a dead giveaway. They did not recognize me or accept me as one of their own. Another young university student in Haiti once asked why I came to Haiti. I told him that I came with my church as an intern. What he said in response to that I will never forget. He said, " You are Stooopeeed, You left der U-niiiiigh states to come to dees gabeeege Kontwee?" (you are stupid, you left the united states to come to this garbage country?!). I didn’t feel bad that he said that to me or the fact that I was there at all. I wondered though...do other Haitians feel this way? I know many are wondering why is Haiti the way that it is? Are we wasting money and resources on this "garbage country"? Some are like yes lets help but whoa, whoa, whoa...many years of help? That's not our problem.
So, here I am, mother of two toddlers 3 and 1. I am faced with a true dilemma. What IF I go to Haiti? I have friends who see how badly I want to go and they say, I am praying that you get to go. I have friends who are saying, I hope you get to go, Katty. And when I actually hear that people GET me and know how hot this desire burns on my heart...I AM AFRAID.
I look at my children with all of this in my heart. I say to myself, they have the world at their feet. They are beautiful, they are intelligent, they will have every opportunity available to them. The world will deny them nothing. What about the children in Haiti? What about the mothers in Haiti? What about the sons and the fathers who do love their country, who are proud to be Haitians, who are proud of the victory they had when they fought and WON for their freedom. It didn’t hit me till recently that the Haitian people have been FREE from slavery for the last 206 years (Jan 1,1804). 61 years (Dec 18,1865) longer than blacks in the America. This means an entire generation of Haitians were free before the first black slaves were free in America. It was because of the Haitian revolution that any talk of freedom could be had. It was because of Haiti and help from the Haitians that other nations fought for their freedom and won. I don’t know enough of my Caribbean/Haitian history to expound but I will be doing some homework and we can have a book report. The dates are solid though and the facts amazing.
In 1994, I was interviewed by a young couple to go on a mission team to Haiti. I was asked all types of questions about my background and my desire to go. My response to all the questions was this...If it is God's will for me to go, who am I to stand in his way? I never said yes to anything directly. When I left the interview and thought about the possibility of me NOT going, I called some friends. I knew they had direct influence on the results, and I made sure they knew that I wanted to go.Not going was not an option. The interviewers called me shortly thereafter and said they were surprised because they really couldn't read me. They wanted me on the team but weren’t going to invite me.Thank God I spoke up. I have that same sick feeling in my heart. I want to go. I need to go.
So why am I contemplating all this? If I "get to go", I may quite possibly be saying goodbye to my family and friend for the last time. Saying goodbye to my husband and children forever. If I return, I return to my country as foreigner,a guest,a traveler. Am I willing to die for my people? Why shouldn’t I be? Is it insane to want to? Should I leave that up to someone else? Another nation? If I and others won't...then who will...who should? This is a real question. Who decided when the Haitians would get their independence? Was it a plan or were they met with insurmountable odds and opportunity? I know there are individuals living the answer daily. I don’t yet have an answer.
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