Reflections On Haiti---Bridging The Internal Gap

My recent trip to Haiti was quite overwhelming, beautiful, captivating, eye-opening, emotion-filled, and amazing. Haiti was a challenge and it sure was intense and above all it was something special. Prior to getting re-acquainted with Haiti, one of the more concerning matters for me, in regards to the Diaspora, was our need to “Bridge The Gap.” Personally, Bridging The Gap always morphed itself into meaning: connecting the broken entities within our culture(s) in an effort to make us a whole and healthy people again. For me, I have often felt as though we have deviated away from our African Core and at times have lost our essential sentiments that make us exceptional. I had often recognized the way some of my Haitian family turned their noses at African folks directly from the continent. I had too often seen how the parents of my African friends generalized African- American individuals. Too commonly, have I witnessed ignorant comments stemming from one Caribbean Island in relation to another. Therefore, Bridging The Gap, for me, often meant making our sub-cultures more coherent with one another and more at one with our overarching African culture. However, it was not until I was immersed in the Haitian culture for 14 days that I understood that Bridging The Gap had a different façade and could take on an entirely new meaning.

Haiti was a moment to embrace God’s natural beauties…blue waters, fresh fruit in the mornings straight from the trees, and amazing breezes. It was a moment of simplicity and harsh realities. I walked away from Haiti understanding a new perception of the word, “gratefulness.” Seeing our people struggle and persevere on a daily basis for what we in the states deem as basic such as clean running water, electricity, and a guaranteed meal, made me grow deeper in my consciousness and made me feel just a little more than usual. Reuniting with family and seeing Port au Prince still under rubble touched me in ways that were sincere and moving. Having to take so much precaution from Cholera and physical insecurity was overpowering at times. Seeing our people expected to live in flimsy tent cities and coming to the better understanding of Haitian politics was discouraging. Seeing the grind and hustle of the market vendors reminded me just how resilient we are…just how we can take the very little afforded to us and make miracles day in and day out. I literally had to pray my way to and through another day—taking it moment by moment. It was absolutely difficult to digest a lot of what I saw for there are no Tums for that kind of obliteration. The spirit of the people though, remained intact—it was one of the more amazing things in the world to see.
 

 ( Traditional Tent City)

Had I taken this trip to Haiti with an organization or missionary group, for example, as opposed to with my own family, it certainly would have been a divergent experience—I’m sure. Because I was with family, it made the entire experience a little more intimate, consuming, and authentic-- and I would even argue to say, a bit more overwhelming as well. Through our visits to family and family friends, what I gathered was just how morbid the sentiments of the people were, and justifiably so. As I would listen in on conversations in the home and when we were out, one of the things that I could not escape was just how unconstructive and how unenthused Haitian folks were in relation to other Haitian people. Every other day I would hear someone refer to, “Moun blan” (The White Man) in such a revered way, however when it came to Haitians talking about one another, that reverence was lacking. “The White Man”, just like in the states, became a symbol and standard for the ideal way, yet the Haitian way was always in the wrong, it seemed. For example, when things would malfunction with the local electricity or something was faulty at a local store, I would hear: “Ayisyen pa jam ka fe bagay yo dwat” (Haitian people can’t ever get things right) or “Kisa'w expect? Ayisyen ki fel” (What do you expect? A Haitian made this.) There was an undeniable presence of negative stigma enveloped in the sentiments of the Haitian people and it was truly heartrending to see.
 

One of my absolute favorite places in Haiti was a resort called Indigo Beach Resort. It was a breathtaking place of the bluest waters, the freshest buffet styled food, amazing art, pools, and hotel. One of the interesting things that I noticed while in Haiti was that the most beautiful places, i.e. resorts and fancy restaurants were often not inhabited by Haitian people or even any colored people for that matter—most of the nicer places I visited were majorly harbored by Caucasian people which I believe does something to the psyche of the Haitian people—it’s almost as though they feel as though they are ill-deserving of the finer things in Haitian life, even if those finer things are produced right in their own backyards—even if it’s produced with their bare hands. For example, once we got to Indigo Beach, most of the people there were white and automatically most of the Haitian people I was with saw the beauty of the place, said: “Pep ayisyen pa janm kapab kreye yon kote ki bel tankou sa a pou tet yo”. (Haitian people could never enjoy/create a beautiful place like this for themselves.)

( Indigo Beach, Haiti)
 

In Haiti, having a servant or maid is not necessarily a symbol of immense wealth and prestige as it sometimes is in other parts of the world. Therefore, even a lower middle class family often has at least two servants in their household. Most of these servants are young men and women in their teenaged years who often are forced to drop out of high school to tend to families who pay them no more than 30 US dollars a month, typically. The interactions between most of the servants and the home owners are so telling of where we are as a people. Most of the exchanges I witnessed were of the homeowners treating their workers less than second class citizens. It was almost as though it was second nature to treat workers as though they were below the animals in the yard. To me, all that was just reflective of how broken the Haitian psyche is. The stark categorization of class is so evident in Haiti that it translates into how Haitians engage with one another. Because there is such a clear hierarchy in social standings, it is seems more difficult for there to be a real sense of collective community in Haiti because everyone sees themselves apart from the other.
I have always romanticized Haiti in my mind. I have felt the need to, I have had the love to. I felt that I owed it to her. I never wanted to be added to the list of those that have stripped her down of any of her merit and so it was tremendously difficult to be honest with myself about some of the things that I had to come to grips with while in Haiti. Getting to experience Haiti revealed to me that Bridging The Gap at times is internal and does not always have to do with a multitude of cultures meshing together. It could very well be about just one society fixing up its broken places in an effort to make its bridge to others as strong as its people remain to be.

Written By: Sophia S. Vilceus