Saturday, May 8th

Since I arrived over six weeks ago so many people have left and so many things have changed because of this. Right now there are the least amount of people since I arrived and the journalist, Line, and I are the ones who have been here the longest. It’s been quieter the past few days.
It’s Saturday and it’s around 930pm. Tonight is probably the quietest Saturday night we’ve had since I arrived. Usually we go to a bar nearby - when we first arrived I didn’t think it was safe but we’ve been so many times that we’ve gotten used to it and now consider it safe. Even if we don’t go to the bar, there’s always a group of volunteers outside talking on benches, under the moonlight.
Tonight it seems as if everyone is doing their own thing- some are watching movies on their computers, others are reading, others are at the office chatting or making phone calls.
The advantage of having a few people is that we’ve had more of different things.. such as water. We have cleaning and cooking ladies during the week but not on Saturdays. Today I washed a few dishes with water from the faucet (usually they wash in a bucket) and while I scrubbed the plates, the water was left running for a few seconds I couldn’t help but remember that group of people under those showerheads in Jacmel- how they would hold their water bottle up and fight for the little water that was coming out. And here I was, in their country, washing the dishes like a tourist, as if I didn’t know. I felt guilty.
It might be a surprise to some, but I am considering extending my stay. Now that I got the hang of what my job consists of and since I am supposed to leave during the next three weeks, it should be time that we find someone to replace me. They have asked others to stay before, and I think that might be my case. If I stay longer it’ll probably just be two weeks. I don’t want to make it longer than that. I haven’t really been that homesick, probably because since I’ve only been living in Costa Rica for about 10 months then I am not even used to the idea that that’s my home (but when I think about it, I get really happy that that’s my home).
Tomorrow the few of us are going to Obama beach. I told everyone we need to stop at Obama tent camp. I brought a suitcase full of clothes that people from my family and friends donated for my trip. I’ve given some to people on the streets, from the car… but I still have a lot left. I am tempted to give it to people around here…like the girls who clean, etc - but at the same time, I know there’s people who need it more, like those at Obama tent camp. Either way, it will go into hands of people and children who need it, no matter what. Nothing can go to waste here. It seems that people live off of what many of us consider dirty, old or trash.

I think that when people leave Haiti they leave full of mixed emotions; at least this is what I am partly expecting from my departure. Not that I know what it will be exactly, but I think I have an idea. Just like I think I have an idea of what many other volunteers and NGO staff feel after being here for three, seven, ten or thirteen weeks. I’m sure they hear local music (compa) and they can’t help but feel nostalgia thinking of what they find beautiful in the culture. Haitians, of course, have things to admire…. I -for example- admire how they are able to wake up every morning, get up with pride and dignity and walk and work under the sun and in the crowded streets, as if they didn’t lose not only their little material things, but the person they might have loved the most in their life. They are able to tell the story about how they lived the earthquake as if they were telling a story about how they sold a house and met someone (at least these are the kind of reactions I have received from a few who have told me how they lived the earthquake... by the way, just to add a fact, since Haiti hadn’t had an earthquake in over 200 years, many didn’t recognize what was happening and thought their house was just falling apart because it was in bad shape).
Haitians keep on going. At least this is what it seems like. It’s a very colorful country (what I’ve seen)… the tap-taps are very artistic and always colorful. Walking around, it’s very difficult to find someone who won’t smile. If you smile, it’s guaranteed you’ll get a smile back. Another beautiful thing that I have learned and have no doubts about is that Haitians share- even if they have little, they share with those they like.. and if you're nice, they like you... they invite whenever they can (as I saw last weekend in Jacmel)... they buy whatever they can afford.. for example, many times when some volunteers/staff who were very much loved and respected here left, the Haitian workers took the little they had and bought souvenirs for them. It’s also impressing that, despite the little education and the fact that only half of children go to school, it’s not hard to find someone who speaks English and/ or Spanish.
So there must be a feeling that they will miss being as much as they were immersed in the culture.
Then there must be the personal feeling of missing whatever was uncomfortable because of living conditions.. missing the simplicity of how they had to live in Haiti because they were left with this choice and nothing else. Most likely, these people have a bit of difficulty adapting back into their country- yes, the first big and good meal must taste like heaven… just like just taking a hot shower and being only around those who look like them ( I’m getting really tired of all these children calling me “blanc” every morning “ blanc! Blanc! Blanc! “ is what they innocently say as I pass by..) must feel very nice.
But what might be the strongest feeling is not a positive one. It doesn’t have to do with the nice Haitian music or the smiles that they encounter. It’s a feeling of frustration. Because maybe they’d wish that the Haitians had received more than them during the time they were in the country. Maybe they’d wish that it wasn’t them who were leaving on an airplane, (looking down at the misery) with a very valuable experience, with so much more knowledge. Maybe they wish they could give up this experience and knowledge for a much better result into their too short of a time. Maybe they’d wish the number of kids in Haiti wasn’t endless so that those who were here to help could actually help all, not a few. Maybe they’d wish that the energy they woke up with every morning, with hopes that their efforts would be able to turn into someone having food on their plate that day, was worth a lot more than food in a plate.
Because really, it’s not about food or clothes or water here. It goes beyond that, just like it goes beyond the earthquake. The people here are used to eating very little, taking short and little showers, and wearing shoes that are too big or have holes. We, from the outside, suffer more looking at them than they actually do eating little, drinking little, showering very little and having nothing to wear.
The frustration doesn’t have to do with shoes or water or clothes or tents. It has to do with the overall picture- with the fact that there’s too much. There’s too much for one person, for one NGO, for the whole United Nations (who seem to be taking the role of the government right now… where is the Haitian government?) too much for those who seem to want to change in Haiti (then there’s the whole issue that we shouldn’t change their identify) …..and unfortunately, it is SO much that when these people leave I can imagine that they are frustrated and even worried.
The people that come here have their reasons including the selfish ones like the desire to want to tell others they were helping out in Haiti, right after the earthquake (what brought me here is the pure passion I have for photography, even though I am hardly photographing). But there people also are humanitarian people.. there are no doubts about that… it’s people who want to see a better world, many who have way more experience than me in relief/emergency response and who have many times left a country with this feeling of frustration.. and since these people would want Haiti to rise than they leave with no other feeling other than..
Pure frustration.
Because even others like me, working in logistics, being inside of the process that will eventually feed over 10,000 children, think…. it’s not about the feeding. It’s about changing their perspective so that their future is actually different from where they are now.
People go back to their countries, their people, their customs and to feeling comfortable- they add this experience to their life- two long months, many long nights and a lot of hot days turn into a valuable memory, maybe to some it turns into the most valuable memory of their lifetime. They continue with their life and whatever it is they do which has nothing or very little to do with this Caribbean country called Haiti. Every once in a while they hear a song, they see a little innocent child, they smell a special food, and they remember what that time period turned into- they remember as much as they can, but it will always be very little. They wonder how Haiti is doing as a whole, and they think of the whole country, even though they only went to see Port au Prince. They get a feeling of guilt and frustration because they are not there- they know others are there and many people are doing what they once did- all to try to lift Haiti up.
Very unfortunately, they try to think realistically and they imagine that things are very similar and possibly exactly the same... that even a year after the earthquake there are still dead bodies underneath the gravel and that the piles of trash have actually gotten bigger. But once they get to this level of thoughts, they only feel uncomfortable, so they rather change their thoughts immediately and go back to their reality.