By Annie Basler
When we walked to church last Sunday, a little boy walked past us in his white button-down shirt and his tidy-whities. When he reached the church, he stopped, leaned over, and pulled on the clean pair of trousers he had been carrying. Every time I picture this little boy, it makes me smile. All he wanted was to look presentable and be clean during mass. It is amazing how different our two worlds are. I do not know a single person in St. Louis who would carry his pants to church. We think, “Will these pants make us look fat?” “Will someone notice that I wore these pants last weekend?”
When I first came home, these questions really troubled me. You see, the trouble is not being there, seeing poverty, lying awake listening to roosters, walking through villages, or working in the hospital. The trouble is coming home, being here, and watching overconsumption. How do you reconcile the two worlds? How do you process?
I have been thinking about this since we ascended over Cap-Haitian on our flight home. And the only answer I can think of – you don’t. You cannot block it out, put it in the back of your mind, or simply move on with your life. Everyone says, “You just need time to process.” But what does that even mean? How do you process?
I’ve been fretting over this question for the past few days, and I realize that I have been asking myself the wrong question. It is not about processing and leaving the moment in the past; it is how you apply the experience to your future. How can you take these memories and live out your life?
Where do you go from here? The answer: you begin by realizing just how incredibly blessed you are. You try to waste less and pray a little more. But you also remember to laugh more, to smile more, to be happy. Be happy that you have been given so much and were simply born into an amazing life. Be happy that you have the things that you do. Be happy that God has blessed you, not just with materials but with talents.
You take these talents and you remember Haiti. You remember Tent Two. You remember the villages. You remember Pepito, the old man, and all of the other patients who walk through those hospital doors. You remember them and you never forget. They become your compass and your strength. For them, you use your talents. You work to become the best possible person you can be. You figure out how to give back, how to say thank you to all of these people who have taught you so much.
While we were in Haiti, I tried so hard to speak Creole. It was almost comical how pathetic I looked and sounded; standing at the gate as the security guard patiently repeated Haitian phrases. After all of my efforts, I learned only a handful of words. I can successfully speak to a three-year-old at my current language level. I tried so hard but simply could not remember the phrases. Ironically, now that I am home, it is all I can think about. Every time I get dressed, I smile. I look at my closet and I think souyle, pantalon, senti, chemiz, linèt. I laugh to myself as I remember that week trying to memorize those words. But don’t worry, I will get better. I will study and mwen pral aprann plis.
When I think of Milot, of the villages, of Cap-Haitian, of la Hospital, I no longer want to cry. I no longer feel guilty. I feel an intense feeling of inner strength.
This may sound crazy, but I do feel the Holy Spirit within me. I feel God’s presence watching over me and keeping me safe. I feel extremely blessed and for that, I must say merci. Merci, Dubuque family for your continuous commitment to love the Haitian people. Merci, Emanuela, Delnadus, Fifi, Tim Traynor, Dr. Prèvil, the volunteer doctors, and everyone else who works with CRUDEM Hospital Sacrè Coeur. Thank you for teaching me how to give, how to learn, how to appreciate, how to love. This may sound cliché but this past week has honestly been a life-changing experience. I will always carry these days in my heart.
Haiti, di ou mèsi pou tout sa ou fè
Haiti, Di ou mèsi pou pataje sa a avè m’
Mwen renmen ou
Mwen pral retounen.
Annie Basler is a senior at Villa Duchesne Oak Hill School in St. Louis. She is the daughter of Mike & Liz Basler.
