On this day, we returned to Port-au-Prince.
Much of the day spent either driving through the streets where every other car belongs to an NGO or speaking with Bertrand, our gracious host.
The lifestyle in Haiti is beyond anything that is comprehensible unless you have seen it and lived in it. I don’t pretend to understand. I mean, yes we lived with the people instead of in hotels behind razor wire and electric light bulbs, but there is just no comparison.
Waking every day in such a situation. Walking each day to the water truck to get your allotment of clean water because the streams and gullies are far too polluted to get anything usable from it. Selling things in the markets or on the street. Waiting for the next rain to see if the tarp over the hole in the roof will hold up.
I think its imperative to make sure these people do not feel forgotten or marginalized. They know they are real people, not an image in a news story or one of those pitiful “support a child for 25 cents a day” things.
Yeah, I know youth ministers and church groups have to promise time at the beach and an actual bed to sleep in every night to get people to actually want to go – as messed up as that is – but you only THINK those people are so thankful when you go from Point A to Point B then back to Point A, staying the night in air conditioning and plush beds. Sorry, guys. How long do you actually remember them? REALLY remember them, their faces or their names. You think they remember you any longer?
What an impact young people and aid workers would have if they took to the floors of these little shacks and shanties and said, “Yes, in fact, I want to stay with you. And if there isn’t room, I’ll sleep outside!” Do you have any idea what a positive influence that would be?
All these thousands of “NGO’s” hauling a dozen kids down here to work three days clearing rubble and then going to the beach: what if they spent time with families one-on-one. Heck yes, its intimidating – it’s still pretty scary to me! But instead of these people being like animals in a zoo out the safari van’s windows to these kids, these would become real people. Real people living in real one-room houses the size of your bathroom. You want to raise a kid to be compassionate and understanding of all sorts of cultures, you show him how the rest of the world lives growing up:
Yep, that kid is also 13 years old, but he’s been working and paying rent for 4 years now. The only difference between you and him is he was born 300 miles off the coast of Florida.
Yeah, but by the grace of God go you.
But I guess that’s kind of a radical idea, isn’t it? Its pretty easy to rationalize, “Well we have to keep the kids safe” or “We don’t want to shock them too badly, they need to be eased into the field of real work in a third world country.”
Alright.
Anyways, soapbox aside. Its just a little something to think about.
This is a cannon in an old fort. Its completely unrelated.
Stay tuned…
-Noah D.
