If there is one thing traveling from the "richest" to one of the "poorest" countries in the world will do; it will cause introspection. I'm stuck in it lately.
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I'm different. We're different as a family. We're changed, and we're privileged.
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I am typing from my corner desk in our office. I can hear the church ladies singing in Creole, "What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus." Out my window I see both mountains and ocean and tiny little dilapidated tin-homes where huge families reside on dirt floors without electricity. The sights and sounds are beautiful and terrible all at once.
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The things swimming in my head don't necessarily come nicely packaged, they just come in jumbles of confused thoughts, emotions and observations.
`Lately, I've come to deeply appreciate the privilege it is to live abroad. Sometimes it may seem I miss that fact. I don't. The truth is, we are blessed to be here. Living and working here has taught us more about ourselves and our God than any other single event in our lives. We do count it a privilege to be here. Even when it has been hard or lonely, it has been amazing, exciting and challenging ... and has caused growth in us that we pray won't end or be forgotten.
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Whether God's plan keeps us here ten more days or ten more years, I count each day here a blessing.
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It warmed my heart this week to talk to Britt from Florida as she excitedly shared that the school she visited was so cool because of all of the Haitian students. She spoke with assurance about how important it is to her to stay connected to the people of this island and continue to work on her Creole. Haiti has changed her.
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Paige cries as she flies out of the country and begins counting down the minutes until she can return to Haiti. She loves the people, most of the time I feel like I have something to learn from her. As we flew back in together on Tuesday she got more and more squirmy and excited as we got closer and closer to landing in Port au Prince. Haiti has changed her.
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I was reading an older piece by a journalist who spent lots of time here in Haiti in the mid 90's. While he seems to be missing faith in The Almighty God, and lacks that important perspective, the article talked about the value of leaving your passport country to see the world. Here is a portion of that article. (I've removed colorful language that might offend some. I've not added any words.) Some of what he says resonates with me.
(Excerpt only - not full article)
Bob Shacochis rants on the importance of living abroad-
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If you want to know a man, the proverb goes, travel with him. If you want to know yourself, travel alone. If you want to know your own home, your own country, go make a home in another country (not Canada, England, or most of Western Europe.) Stop at a crossroads where the light is surreal, nothing is familiar, the air smells like a nameless spice, and the vibes are just plain alien, and stay long enough to truly be there. Become an expatriate, a victim of self-inflicted exile for a year or two.
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Sink into an otherness that reflects a reverse image of yourself, wherein lies your identity, or lack of one. Teach English in Japan, aquaculture in the South Pacific, accounting in Brazil. Join the Peace Corps, work in the oil fields of Saudi Arabia, set up a fishing camp on the beach of Uruguay, become a foreign correspondent, study architecture in Istanbul, sell cigarettes in China.
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And here's the point: Amid the fun, the risk, the discomfort, the fog of miscommunication, the servants and thieves, the food, the disease, your new friends and enemies, you'll find out a few things you thought you knew but didn't.
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You'll learn to engage the world, not fear it, or at least not to be paralyzed by your fear of it. You'll find out, to your surprise, how American you are -- 100-percent, and you can never be anything but -- and that is worth knowing. You'll discover that going native is self-deluding, a type of perversion. Whatever gender or race you are, you'll find out how much you are eternally hated and conditionally loved and thoroughly envied, based on the evidence of your passport.
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You'll find out what you need to know to be an honest citizen of your own country, patriotic or not, partisan or nonpartisan, active or passive. And you'll understand in your survivor's heart that it's best not to worry too much about making the world better. Worry about not making it worse.
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When you come back home, it's never quite all the way, and only your dog will recognize you.
(End of excerpt)
It is odd coming back here, it is odd going to the States. Something is lacking in both places. Certainly justice is lacking. It is difficult to decide what you truly feel when confronted with so many mixed emotions. We've never felt convinced we can make the world better.
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We've only been convinced to try to follow where God leads. Wherever and whenever. Whether it makes sense or not. When we feel like it, and when we don't.
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I love and hate things here in Haiti, I love and hate things in America. It becomes difficult to determine the root issues of all the jumbled thoughts and emotions. I cannot often sort out or determine what I feel. They are both home. Neither of them are home.
I am different. We're different as a family. We're changed, and we're privileged.
-Tara
"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." -C.S. Lewis
