Haiti is home to the largest slum in the
Western hemisphere, Cite Soliel. This poverty stricken country can be reached
by a short 90 minute flight from Miami; however, while Americans lay out on the
sandy beaches in Miami, beaches located on the same body of water are avoided
by Haitians due to the excessive pollution. These are two separate worlds
entirely, and yet they are separated by a mere 90 minutes. I wonder how is
there a country in such proximity to the United States with unimaginable
unemployment rates, an extremely low life expectancy, an unstable government,
and undreamed of living conditions. Large amounts of the population of Haiti
are without running water, something almost unheard of in most parts of the
United States.
My interest in service and in others
brought me to Haiti for Spring Break where I worked with a team of volunteers
to assist with the delivery of fresh water, to give love and attention to
children and to spread God’s word. On my second evening in Haiti on a visit to
a tent city, I met a boy who had a great deal to teach me.
Passing through the gates of the tent
city, I was hit by the stench of urine and crowdedness. I wanted to look away and yet I could not
turn my eyes from the display of uneven rows of crowded homes made of tarps and
sheets strung together over sticks. Timidly, I began walking, leaving the
comfort of the gate, edging closer in a trance-like state. Weaving my way
between rows of makeshift homes, I struggled to avoid the stream of unknown
fluid cutting a path inches from my feet. Walking past the open tents, I was
greeted with an astounding amount of joyfulness, never less than a smile. I continued to walk through the tents saying
hello, and then I saw him.
A few tents from where I stood a boy sat
in his wheelchair. His twisted legs dangled from the well-worn chair while he
ate a tiny portion of rice. He shyly glanced up and our eyes met as an enormous
smile spread across his face, and in that moment I became so dispirited. I
dropped my gaze and turned my back as my face flushed and tears began to stream
down my cheeks. What, I wondered, did
this crippled, poverty-stricken boy have to smile about? His family’s home was half the size of my
bedroom back home. Where I had lush
carpet he had cracked earth, where I had air conditioning he had sweltering
heat, and yet where he wore his smile I wore nothing. I could not remember the
last time I smiled with such a full body smile as he had just given me. Slowly, I dried my tears and walked towards
him. Once I reached him, I bent down to look him in the eye, and with an
unsteady voice, I asked, “Ki jan ou rele? “ In the gentlest voice, as if
sensing my uneasiness, he responded, “Ronaldo.” Though we could not communicate
with words, I felt completely at ease just sitting by his side in the dirt,
enjoying his company.
After nearly 15 minutes of communicating
through simple gestures, and a brief introduction to his family, it was time
for me to leave. As I got up, I turned to the boy and with increased confidence
said, “Ke Bondye Beni’ou “(May God bless you).
His smile, which had been so painful minutes before, now filled me
up. I returned the smile from a deep
place in my soul and reluctantly returned to my night’s lodgings.
Once more I passed through the gates of
the tent city and ventured onto the uneven road. As I walked home my mind was a
whirlpool of thoughts. Sleep did not come easily that night. I despaired about how incredibly
materialistic our society had become, how incredibly materialistic I had
become. Ronaldo, with his bright smile amid squalor, reminded me, in an intense
way, that living fully has little to do with having the biggest house or the
latest gadget. Initially, I was torn
apart by the boy’s smile because of how guilty it had made me feel, but over
our time together, I came to see that we could share a beautiful human
connection. I was more open in all of my
interactions with others after meeting Ronaldo.
I realized that I had a gift for making others feel comfortable.
Furthermore, upon returning people praise me for spending time in Haiti. This praise, which is something I would have
gladly taken before my encounter with Ronaldo, embarrasses me as it is
undeserved. I have learned that each of
us should be expected to do what we can to enhance the lives of others and to
learn about ourselves and one another. Haiti is a place that has had an
incredible inspiration to me, it is a place I have come to love, and it is a
place that has shaped who I am.
Sammie Maixner
Beautifully written, Sammie! You perfectly captured the essence of what it means to serve in Haiti.
ReplyDelete