“Aiti Mon Cherie”
Ever since I grew up in West Africa, I dream of returning to the Cameroons and reconnecting with my childhood. My dad in his practical way, advised me to save money- “just go to Haiti. It looks feels and smells like Africa but it’s cheaper to visit.”
I took his advise and found myself surprisingly loving Haiti. Through the years I even half jokingly told people that “when Eileen kicks me out, I’ll probably go live in Haiti.” It has been a privelege to visit many times and I’m always struck by the beautiful/ugly, wonderful/terrible place, filled with amazing people who live their lives in the glare of poverty and corruption.
I learned to never ask the question, “What gives you hope?” Because there is no concept of hope to help form a response. The french colonists pillaged the lush forests of Jacaranda trees. The beautiful wood was harvested for export until Haiti was left a deforested, barren wasteland. Corrupt government leaders and dictators looted what was left of Haiti’s riches. They often bridged the Voodoo Cult and Drug Lords to maintain control and guarantee no help ever reaching the people of the land. Sex tours from Europe, Syria and the U.S. spread HIV/AIDS virus throughout the land killing thousands and ruining families.
Now it is all destroyed. The destruction of the earthquke was absolute and irrevocable. Picture the horrific ruin of 9/11. Now imagine not just two buildings but every office, home, store, hotel, hospital, school, government office, police headquarters, airport and even a palace all in shambles. Add to this the absence of medicine, water, food, rescue equipment, or trained leadership. The other night on the news, I saw small children scrape in the dry ground to dig holes in which they can bury their parents and friends. The futility is stunning.
I have struggled this week to find a spark of hope for my Haitian friends who understandably have none. It is only a tiny glimmer, but at least it is a start. In John 12, Jesus warned, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies- it will remain the same. But if it dies it will multiply. (my paraphrase)
Maybe Haiti can find new life, vitality, health and perhaps even hope, out of this horrific falling to the ground and dying. There can be no pretending that the old ways will rebuild the land. Without infrastructure and integrity of leadership it is probably hopeless. But God is in the business of making all things new, again. I pray this for the children of Haiti.
Let’s look and work for miracles of the new. Not slow, tedious progress, but radical grace, love, faith and hope. Years ago, I bought a tee shirt in Port-au-Prince, it was commemorating the overthrow and exile of ‘Baby Doc’ Duvalier. It stated in Creole, “Aiti Mon Cherie”. Haiti, my love. I wish I could dig it out and wear it today as a reminder of the power of hope.
