But yet, I still struggle to find the comforts in this. I still struggle to find my place. To find my purpose. To find meaning here. To wrap my head around how two areas of the world can be oh so different, yet only a plane ride away. How two places can both encompass such large parts of my heart.
I remember my first time coming home after living in the countryside of Haiti. I remember flying into Miami and uncontrollably crying. I had spent eight months without a proper shower. Eight months without a toilet. Eight months peeing into Pringles cans. Eight months without a stove, microwave, refrigerator. Eight months without furniture to relax on. Eight months without electricity. And here I was, standing in this ginormous air conditioned airport with an endless amount of space, food, electricity and bathrooms (which were equipped with toilet paper). All my brain could process at that time was "Do you know how many people we can house here? Do you know how many people we can feed?" .. I was getting excited at the thought of it. And then reality slapped me hard in the face. We will not be housing people here. We will not be feeding people here. This is an airport. You are back in North America. This is the land of resources. This is the land of indulgence. This is not the land of survival.
I remember feeling happy to be heading home, I missed my family and my friends. I was glad to be going back to them. But at the same time, I wasn't happy at all. My normal had changed. My life had been picked up and completely turned upside down. How do you navigate your way back "home" after that? My definition of normal was the complete opposite of what my loved ones definition was. How do I explain this to them? How do I tell them about all I've seen, all I've felt..
I found it hard to articulate the depths of my experiences. I found it hard to articulate how I was feeling. I struggled with peoples ignorance. I struggled with how sheltered people were. I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I remember forcing myself to smile and having to talk myself into focusing and actually engaging in conversations as my mind was constantly drifting off. I just so badly wanted them to understand. I so badly wanted to hold their eye lids open and make them see everything that I saw. I wanted them to experience the same awakening that I had. But I couldn't.
I couldn't make people understand the depths of the suffering I was exposed to on a daily basis. I couldn't make them understand the reality of our world outside of our small community. I couldn't make them understand how a woman fed her baby to the pigs. I couldn't make them watch young boys be beaten with butts of automatic weapons in front of my eyes. I couldn't make them understand that the people that I loved were dying from simple illnesses like the flu - simply because they couldn't afford water to stay hydrated or a taxi ride to the hospital. I couldn't make them understand that child slavery is real and that it has happened to children that mean the world to me. I couldn't make them understand the trauma. The little boy who came to my house with burns covering his entire body because he took 5 gourdes from his mom to buy a snack at school. Or the mother that forced her daughter to drink a bottle of bleach and she ended up in a coma. Or the child that was left in a pit and never learned to walk because he had down syndrome. I wanted to shake people. I wanted to scream it in their face. I wanted them to know... I wanted them to care...
Getting lost in that constant fight is truly exhausting. Its like running head first into a brick wall every single day. My perception had to be modified, if only to ease my own frustration.
It’s like our eyes see differently. We are all wearing different prescription lenses. People wear glasses or contacts to see clearly. The road, their books, their Facebook messenger.
My prescription was written when I was 18. When everything I thought I knew was altered. Someone put those glasses over my eyes and for the first time I could see clearly. My reality was changed. I can’t share my glasses with anyone, they are mine. They would make your eyes blurry, the world would be more hazy. I will never be able to make anyone see clearly with the lenses I wear.
My frustration hasn’t been for my lack of articulation or effort, it’s always been because my vision is through my glasses. The art of humanitarianism isn’t trying to force your glasses onto everyone's eyes, its finding the prescription that will fit even one person. Its that one blog post the resonates with someone, that one picture that changes someone’s perception. It's in the stories, and the fundraisers, the websites and social media likes. It’s standing in a room full of people and telling them about the atrocities I have witnessed, the trauma that I have seen endured.
For me, the fire has been reignited lately and I once again am overflowing with this burning passion to do more, to be more. I can't wait to get my feet on the ground again and once again be consumed by this chaos. I am prepared for the journey ahead, and this time, with a refreshed mind and eager heart. On July 25th I will be heading back "home" and I couldn't be more excited.
To any of my humanitarian friends out there.-- I know you feel exhausted. I know how hard you fight to enlighten people. I know how tough it is to balance between two different lifestyles, two different worlds. Having your heart ripped between multiple countries. I know the guilt, the anger, the bitterness, the grief you experience. I know that it is an uphill battle that you feel like you are never going to win. But I also know that you have the fight in you. Do not suppress it. Do not shrink yourself to fit in someone else's box. Do not dim your light. Keep burning. Keep going. Because that's why you are here. The world needs more people that don't quit. That don't walk away even when you may have all of the odds against you. The world needs more people with burning passion. People that make people feel uncomfortable, so please friends, keep being the optometrists for your cause. Keep trying to find the right prescription, that is the only way we can help the world see clearly.
