The last few years, I have missed Karen’s special Saturday morning walk because of rainy weather that made the walking unsafe and unstable in spots. But the other thing that makes these walks different is that only the older children can go, because we have to cross the bridge in the opposite direction of the home, and the walkways sometimes become more like a billy goat trail. This year, I had my fingers crossed that the weather would cooperate, so that I could lace up my sneakers and see what the other end of the canal had to show off. Luckily, the rains had been almost non existent, and my wish came true, and wow…the scenery at this time of the morning is like a page out of paradise… ?
Walking out of the compound, we were still in some darkness, but there was a beautiful pink tint in the sky behind the mountains, and the air was already warm and heavy with humidity.
So, this was my first Saturday morning walk, and I was excited, but at the same time, I felt a little out of my comfort zone. Everyone took a hand of someone else, but I was anxious to get across the bridge in front of all the men standing, waiting, and hoping for a day’s work in the rice fields. It’s an awkward feeling when you find yourself the subject of hard stares and some unkind comments. But I always tell my kids in school– being uncomfortable is not always a bad thing, and it often leads to a little lesson in understanding of what life is like when “uncomfortable” is a DAILY reality for many other people…
It took a few minutes for before it was safe for us to dash across the road, amid the early morning rush of motos. The men at the bridge filled every space across the span, and there was much chatter among them; you could compare that crowd of men at the bridge to that table of men you might see at Tim Horton’s, talking about the important matters of the day. The difference here is that, amongst the chatter, is the hope to LEAVE that group at the bridge for a day of hot, tedious work in the rice fields…
I said there was some discomfort, but even amidst that feeling were many more moments of friendly interaction with the people we saw and met walking the same path…. It was nothing but “Bonju” and smiles from the people Karen sees on a regular basis, because they understand that we “blancs” (whites) are there for the children.
Although this is my fourth summer, there is always something new to see and learn. Poverty does not make everything ugly and terrible, because in our first world lives, we still have plenty of that. The difference is what you CHOOSE to see through your lens; beauty and kindness can be seen in some of the most unexpected places…you just need to have the right focus!
Hugs from Haiti ???
Heather Kearney
