The Blanc

Like everything in life, perceptions rarely equate to reality. The incredible country of Haiti could not be a better example of this paradox. Beneath its rough and rugged exterior lies a unique and mysterious beauty. Despite the hardships the country has endured over the past few years, it still has a sense of simplicity and bliss. These two traits connect everyone into an incredible community of people even though much of the population lives without modern amenities like electricity and running water.

As a foreigner, known as "blanc" in the native Haitian Creole, I had the opportunity to peer into the lives of the natives for a few days. After the Earthquake in 2011, media around the world has portrayed Haiti as a "Hell on Earth." Therefore, it is reasonable to expect that I had some hesitation as the wheels of the airplane touched down on the landing strip. As I walked out of the exit terminal into a tunnel, I was greeted aggressively by a group of men trying to grab my bag and escort me to the vehicle waiting area. Like a football player, i weaved in and out of the barbarians. I finally saw the light of the end of the tunnel when I recognized Rachael standing next to two men. At last I did not feel alone in this unknown place. After a quick greeting, especially since the horde of men were still following me trying to grab my bags, we hopped into the van and zoomed off through the streets of Port-Au- Prince. I have never seen anything like this city in my life.

People crowded the streets to the point where cars and motorcycles were practically hitting them. The stench of gasoline, burning rubber, and sewage made it difficult to breath. The houses ranged from large homes to shacks. I even caught a passing glimpse of the infamous tent cities. Weaving through the streets, I realized something that would continue throughout the duration of the trip: everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) was staring at me like an alien. Foreigners, or "blancs", conjure up mixed feelings in many Haitians. Some people stared and smiled, realizing that we were here to help them. Others glared angrily thinking that we were here to make it rich at their expense of the natives like so many other outsiders before us.

Eventually the paved roads turned into gravel streets up a winding mountain. The van struggled to climb the steep incline and I sat fearful for most of the ride that the brakes would cut out and it would be the end of us. Luckily, no we arrived to the distant and small village of Lascahobas in less than 2 hours. As we maneuvered through the desolate streets, I saw my first real sight of poverty outside the United States. People were sitting in the shade of their porches of their shack-like homes everywhere, avoiding the crippling heat. Many women appeared to be impregnated and many of the children had potbellies, a sure sign malnutrition.

Obviously, work was scarce in the area and many people had little income. It's depressing seeing these sights because it seems as if hope is nonexistent. We finally arrived at the hotel, which seemed like a mecca to the surrounding community.

The next day we set off to the property that had the water well. As I arrived, I saw a pristine landscape with rolling hills and gorgeous plants. We walked down to the well, which essentially was just a PVC pipe in the ground. Off in the distance, some children were bathing in a murky stream, which probably had animal feces and other disgusting substances. Over the next few days, this would be transformed as the ground was uncovered and cement and other materials were used to prevent water from seeping into the hole around the well. By repairing the well, we hope to be able to develop a sustainable hub for the surrounding community.

Visiting the local schools also touched my heart. Despite the lack of amenities (which included everything from no running water and toilets to ragged and reused books), the faculty and students tried everything in their power to have a first-rate education. The kids even showed up to school pristine with spotless uniforms and combed hairs. School children in developed countries do not put in this kind of effort even with running water and electricity.

Overall, my trip to Haiti showed me hope for the future. Even though many people live without the comforts of the developed world, they still try to make the most of their situation. I will be sure to be back again in the future; this time I hope to be less of a "Blanc."