During the late afternoon of January 12th, 2010, the Haitians of Port-Au-Prince weren’t concerned with having rice and beans again. Friends weren’t making plans to hang out, or children whining because it was bath night. Instead, days afterwards people still hadn’t eaten a meal, finding family members was more important then hanging out with friends, and children were lucky to be alive. On that Tuesday afternoon, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake forever changed the lives of the Haitian people.

On January 12th, I woke up in the late morning, like usual. I’ve long forgotten the mundane details, which only adds to how ordinary the day was. My life consisted of wanting to be someplace else (usually hours away visiting friends), drinking too much iced coffee and teas, and being an activist for social justice. Note, a regular job and college classes weren’t mentioned. While the earthquake tugged some emotional-strings, I never thought it’d be possible for me to go and serve in Haiti. Though my life wasn’t changed on the date of the earthquake, serving in Haiti from March 23rd through April 6th, my life will never be the same.

There were no pictures, news articles, stories, or smells that could prepare me for what the next two weeks were going to hold. Most people forget that Haiti was already the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. So on top of poverty like I’ve never seen, there was destruction like that of a war zone. We flew into Port-Au-Prince, the capital of Haiti, which was just 16 miles from the epicenter of the devastating earthquake. Though chaos was widespread, with the aid of foreigners and the spirit of the Haitians, you could see the slow progress of bringing order back to the city.

After traveling on some treacherous roads and hearing more horns blown then in New York City we arrived in Saint-Marc, a town an hour and a half north of the capital. Though Saint-Marc was spared from major destruction, it is now the home of thousands of displaced Haitians from Port-Au-Prince. Youth With A Mission Haiti, (YWAM) the organization I was volunteering with was taking care of these tent cities that formed, along with continual aid to the residents of Saint-Marc. Over the next two weeks I saw things I had never seen before. I did things I never thought I’d do.

The first week, though doing different jobs each day, I worked mostly at a medical clinic. A building that years ago was an abortion clinic, then became the city toilet, but in February post-quake turned into a medical clinic. Our job, as many teams before us job was to continually organize medical supplies that were being donated. If supplies weren’t organized, the medical volunteers wouldn’t know what they had, which could result in not treating someone in the best and/or safest way possible. Let me tell you, organizing thousands of syringes and needles by size in 90 degree heat with high humidity and little air flow is not a cup of tea. Then again neither is painting shelves with a type of paint that could only be taken off with gasoline. Arriving back at the base for lunch and supper breaks was much needed. And at night a foam pad on a bunk bed surrounded by a mosquito net never sounded better.

It was difficult flying down to Haiti without knowing what to expect, I sub-consciously created an agenda in mind (to help earthquake victims). And though ultimately that’s what I was doing, I didn’t really see, or feel it at that time. (Days later this mindset was changed by a profound appreciation for the Haitians, as well as the Haitians appreciation for us, which included learning some of their language.)

The second week was more organizing, cleaning, unloading and distributing. On base, there was a relief depot, which held an abundant amount of pudding (donated from the States because of a mislabeled order) clothes, shoes, hygiene products, toys and more. Again, organizing that was a big need because it showed what they had, and ultimately when they knew they had enough to distribute to the community. Being around the Haitians who went to school at the YWAM base was a lot of fun, and working with them was just as awesome. Unloading trailers, though one of the hardest jobs (think assembly line throwing 10lb boxes of peroxide to each other) was made fun by working with the Haitians as they sang and danced to American rap songs.

There’s a saying the Haitians have that we saw come into effect: “The white man comes to make us fight.” And though distribution of food went smoothly (displaced people have an ID card they had to show to receive aid) there were a couple of boxes of clothes we were going to hand out. So they were handed to a trusted Haitian, but within seconds were taken out of his hands and thrown about the crowd. A riot formed, unlike any other I’ve seen. Fighting for clothes (which could be used to cloth their families, or sell for profit to provide for their family) seemed like they were fighting for their lives. Kids were trampled, dogs barked, but in the end as we were sitting in the back of the trailer saying goodbye, smiles, laughs and gratitude showed in the eyes of the Haitian people.

As much as eating rice and beans got old, I loved their rice. Showers though cold, never felt better after a long day of work. Our language barrier, between English and French/Creole made me slip into an Italian way of speaking and exaggerated expressions. Playing with kids who had lost everyone and everything was an experience I can’t yet put into words. Having days off to hike and swim at the beach was wonderful. I was able to adjust to the heat and the smell after only a few days. Adjusting to their culture and way of life though, I may never be able to adjust to - having free reign to whip children, or seeing people throwing rocks at each other over a simple accusation. Just as much as seeing people who have absolutely nothing left to live for, smile just because they are alive. The simplicity of everything, because of what I have and the country in which I live I don’t know if I’d ever be able to achieve.

As I continue to reflect on my Haiti outreach trip, I am able to see in my everyday life how blessed I am. Sure there are innumerable things to complain about in America, but if you are going to complain, take action to counteract your complaints. Though an English speaking twenty year old girl, who just organized, painted and distributed things, I was able to make a difference in Haiti. If you’re thinking, ‘that’s awesome, but I can’t go to Haiti,’ you don’t have to. I encourage you to take a look at your own community. Instead of seeing the things that you don’t like and finding fault in, do something to make it a better place. You can be the change you wish to see in the world; don’t let anyone or yourself tell you different.

Thanks for reading!
Candice
www.ywamhaiti.org