On the plane to Haiti

I am on the plane to Haiti preparing to return to then country almost 20 years after I was last there. I have gotten all my shots and I have tons of gifts for my host family and I am looking forward to going back. Now that I am hours from landing I am just starting to ask - "Am I emotionally prepared to return."

I was last in Haiti in 1992. I was a few weeks from my 13th birthday and I got to go with ny best friend because her mother was the trip nurse. When we arrived it was averaging 102 degrees during the day so it took a couple days to adjust to the heat. We would spend the mornings working in the nursery. At that age I loved that I got to hold the babies. Because the staff was stretched so thin it was our job to make sure that every baby got to be cradled each day.

I fell in love with one little girl named Antoinette. She had big beautiful eyes and she loved to smile. The fact that she was such a happy baby stood in stark contrast to the fact that she was born with HIV. I remember that I was not allowed to change her diaper because of this. I also remember that her mother still came to visit her, but had given her up because she was sick and could not give her the care that she needed.

Anoinette was indicative of so much of what I saw in Haiti - a beautiful resiliant spirit constrasting with a challenged and heartbreaking reality.

I don't to romanticize poverty or paint all Haitians as victims. Between the historical tyranny of the French, the imperialistic exploitation of the US, and the selfish corruption of the Haitian elite there is ore than enough blame to go around.

When I was there 20 years ago I stayed with a family that had three children who were 17, 19 and 21. I never quite understood what the father did but I remember that he was somehow politically connected to police. One day we were outside hanging out in front of the house and a military truck pulled up in front of our house. They said something to my host father and he called us all to come inside. As we went in the entire neighborhood started going in. Moments later I heard the screams and a woman pleading. Then I heard shots and sobbing.

I know that my host family all heard the same thing. We were all together and it was loud enough that they heard but we watched TV and ate as if nothing were happening. About 30 minutes later we were back outside and everyone seemed to pick up where we had left off before the army truck had rolled in. A couple of days later I got a frantic call from my mother who was worried about how we would get out of the country. It was she who informed me that me that there had been a coup d'etat in Haiti. Armed men had come in and removed the president and I hadn't even heard about it. I asked my host family what had happened and was told, "something happened downtown."

Understanding how something that serious could become so commonplace motivated me to want to understand more about Haiti's history. Studying Haitian history led me to learn more about American foreign policy and colonial history and ultimately led me to be an international relations major in college.

Even though I have not been able to return until now, I have tried to stay abreast of the situation in Haiti. For me Haiti remains a touchstone for what is going on in the world. If Haiti is getting better I will have more hope for the world. If things are as I expect or worse then I don't know how I will feel.