A Quiet Ending

June 21, 2011

This morning, 3 of the 5 guys I’ve been spending all of my time with left for a mini vacation in a nearby (3 hours away) town. I’ll be on my flight back to the States by the time they get back. Since last night was our final night together, we stayed up until nearly 3 in the morning, reminiscing about our time in Haiti. I was up before 7 this morning to say “see you later” and consequently have felt exhausted the entire day. I think it’s a combination of the heat, my body’s inability to keep food in (my apologies for the readers with weak stomachs), and lack of sleep, but today I was in a state of minimum coherence more than I wasn’t.

After coffee and an attempt at filling my seemingly bottomless stomach, we had a Creole lesson. Then, Dan and I worked on a template for a HAC newsletter. We still don’t have internet at the compound, power during the day is infrequent, and our computer with the most information was taken to the United States until Sunday. Thus, we reached a bit of a standstill in terms of busy work. I used the lull in time to catch up on sleep. Even though I sweat the second I slip into my tent during the day, I took a good three hour nap before English class.

The afternoon was ordinary; we had English class and ate an amazing dinner (BBQ chicken, carrots, beans, platains, and my favorite Haitian cabbage), and showered. The few of us that are left here are enjoying a quiet evening at home, watching a children’s movie on TV; we’ve become a family.

Since my goodbyes started today, I feel like I’ve finally started to actually reflect on my time in Haiti. Normally, I am such a reflective writer, but since I’ve been here I’ve only been able to record events. It’s as if I am taking so many things in, but I am not fully processing it. I think that’s part of enjoying the adventure, or rather, allowing the story to write itself. Today, though, in my minimum coherence, reflection began, stirring a slew of emotions..

I am certainly excited to go home. I miss having a phone and internet access, I miss having girlfriends to debrief with, and although the food here has been amazing, I would love sweet potato enchiladas or a huge pizza with tons of vegetables on it. I am also pretty excited to be girly for a day or two when I get back. At home, these things have become a part of me and my life; they dictate my days to a extent.

Here, though, they are no part of my life, but I still feel wholly me. I have no phone, rare internet access, and my diet has undergone plastic surgery of sorts, but I am still me. Realizing this has retaught me what makes me me, what makes me tick. I’ve found that shower or no shower, phone or no phone, my ideal diet or one of a foreign foods, it is connecting with people that makes me feel alive. I love that my story has been written by so many people that have come in and out of my life previously. I love sharing that story as I meet new people; it is not a forced conversation, retelling the events of my life, but rather the words that come with natural conversation and genuine interest in other people. I also love that as I share the story that is my own, the new people who come into my life are able to continue my story.

I am brining a beautiful chapter back to the United States with me. The Haitian children have written kindness and innocence into my story. The students in the English class have written persistence and knowledge. The people of the community have written simplicity and carefreeness. Dan has written a realistic perspective. Kevin, fun loving joyfulness. Sam, a formula for balancing life and professionalism. Arnold, reminiscence and serenity. Isiah, friendship. Daphne, independence. The cleaning women and cooks, selflessness. And the country of Haiti has taught me acceptance of life and a relentless pursuit of bettering a community.

This compound has become my home and these people have become my family. I’ve learned to live with more brothers than sisters. I’ve learned to debrief without girlfriends. I’ve, at times, forgotten I even have a phone. I am certainly excited to be back on domestic soil, but Haiti has written itself into my story. I am thankful.