Haiti
Reflections 2010–2016
The frustration furrowed every line in my face. When I unfurrowed, the dirt in my wrinkles became unstuck and gave me a grimy street urchin look. I had showered not two hours ago. The streets of Port au Prince are filthy from overcrowding, street-side charcoal cook stoves, woefully absent emission “standards” from trucks and cars pushed to their limits. Add in heat and stir. The conditions are ripe for the type of passionate yelling that seems very distant and overpowering from the quiet, clean air conditioned room of your home.
I was attempting to get from point A to point B.
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The car I had hired had broken down, the heat was unbearable, the vendors seizing the opportunity of a few Blancs standing around was overpowering. I lost it. I screamed at people to move, to work faster, to give me space. My volunteer travel companions looked at me like I was a feral animal. Which I was in that moment. Later, in the quiet of my home I would feel ashamed and give anything to take the moment back.
Most of my life could be viewed as chaotic. Or exciting, if you were looking back with my eyes through my rearview mirror. 13 elementary schools helped me to be outgoing and developed my life long love affair with many, many friends all over the place. It also robbed me of a strong math foundation which truthfully, has led to more chaos than you can fathom.
Math is life. I have learned that the hard way.
Friends are also life and I learned that the easy way.
