A New Perspective on Haiti
This is our last weekend in Terrier Rouge and I’m finding it hard to believe that our time in Haiti is coming to a close so quickly. I’m really looking forward to the next two weeks at Project Medishare in Thomonde, but St. Barthelemy has grown on me more and more over the past six weeks and it’ll be hard to say goodbye to the amazing students, teachers, and staff here.
I know that most of my posts so far have focused on my outward experiences and observations in Haiti, and I’ve avoided delving into a lot of my own personal thoughts and emotions. It’s easy for me to describe what I’ve seen and heard, but to describe what I’ve felt seems nearly impossible. Every conversation, interaction, and experience I’ve had in Haiti elicits more thoughts and emotions than I could even begin to describe. It’s almost as if I would need some sort of stock exchange-like live update attached to my blog: Jocelyn is hopeful… Jocelyn is nervous…. Jocelyn is thrilled…. etc. to show my “thought of the minute.” Even though I’ve been in Haiti for six weeks, I feel like I’m just beginning to process my time here.
Thursday’s adventures, however, allowed me to gain a new perspective on Haiti, literally and metaphorically, so I’ll do my best to tie together a narrative of the day and how it represents one of the overarching themes of my experience so far:
At the crack of dawn, Kelly, our translator, and I packed into one of the school’s SUVs and made our way to Milot, via Cap Haitien and a few other modes of transportation (for the sake of my parents’ blood pressure, I’ll leave it at that). When we arrived in Milot, we made our way to the center of town to begin our ascent up the mountain, on top of which the Citadelle, the largest fortress in the Western Hemisphere and one of Haiti’s most famous landmarks, is located.
(the Citadelle is the square-shaped structure in the center of the photo)
After some tough monetary negotiations with a rather questionable “official” tour guide (at times, the Haitian gourde-Haitian dollar-American dollar conversion has required some long division!), we made our way up the mountain via another mode of transportation and on foot. At one point, I began to wonder why we thought climbing one of the highest mountains in Northern Haiti in July was a good idea, but once we arrived at the Citadelle and took in the spectacular view, I realized it was more than worth the climb.
I felt like we were on top of the world—I could see in every direction for miles, from the bay of Cap, to the Grand Rivière in the valley, to the mountains in the South. It was truly one of the most incredible sights I’ve ever seen.
According to a plaque we read inside the fort, the Citadelle was built by King Christophe to defend Haiti against French invasion. In 1820, the king committed suicide after a mutiny arose, and although his body was returned to the Citadelle, to this day, no one knows where his remains lie in the fortress (future Pirates of the Caribbean/Indiana Jones movie plot? I think so).
On our way back down the mountain, we also explored the ruins of Sans Souci, King Christophe’s palace.
The completely different views from the base and the top of the mountain reminded me of the different perspectives I’ve had during my work at the school and clinic. Many times, I’ve had a “base of the mountain” view of my work, but seeing my work from a larger, “top of the mountain” perspective is so much more rewarding.
Some days, I felt so overwhelmed by all of the kids and their bottomless energy in the mid-day heat. I sometimes wondered how we would manage to teach and encourage healthy behaviors in children who are surrounded by anything and everything that inhibits good health. But then I see kids like 6 year-old Didi, who has a smile that could stop an army, and 12 year-old Francisca, who asks such thought-provoking questions, and their smiles and questions remind me why we’re teaching and how fortunate I am to play a role in their education. This experience is not about the insignificant, day-to-day frustrations I may complain about; it’s about passing on some of the knowledge that I’ve been so blessed to receive in my life to the kids whose lives can be changed with such knowledge.
During our work in the clinic, it can be so easy to fall into the negativity trap when a patient’s file has two different reference numbers, or when the language barrier between you and the technician seems momentarily insurmountable. But no matter how confusing the filing system and conversations may be, I try to remember that these patients are so fortunate to even have medical records at all, and the fact that I am participating in their medical care, even in the smallest way, is a huge privilege and valuable learning experience.
So I’m trying to view every obstacle and challenge as part of the overall picture, and to not get caught up in the smaller, momentary frustrations that come with living and working in an unfamiliar place. I think it’s important to gain both perspectives, but the view from the top, while a lot more difficult to reach, allows you to fully appreciate and understand the view from the bottom.
St. Barthelemy’s kindergarten and 6th grade graduation is tomorrow, and then Kelly and I leave for Thomonde Monday morning, so my next blog will most likely be from Thomonde. This weekend will definitely be our busiest yet.
Happy Fourth of July!