So far, 2019 has been filled with tough times and tough transitions. After spending two months in the States at the end of 2018, I returned to Haiti on January 12, 2019.
I’m not sure why, but this transition back to Haiti was hard. Very hard. I cried myself to sleep most nights. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life in Haiti and the work that I do, but I missed family and friends something fierce. I was also dealing with changing my role in the school—in the early months of 2019 I planned to turn over more of the leadership and decision-making responsibilities to the Haitian principal and vice-principal. That brought a sense of loss even though I believed in my heart that it was best for me and for the school.
Two weeks into being back in Haiti I was settling into my routines and feeling better (at least not crying all the time) when I learned that a dear friend of 25 years had passed away suddenly. That news rocked my world. She was friend, colleague, mentor, and encourager. I made arrangements to fly home immediately and spent a week back in the States. I then returned to Haiti still dealing with grief and loss.
I knew that two groups would be at the orphanage guesthouse when I returned. What I didn’t know was that I would be sharing my room with two people. I have no problem sharing my space; it just would have been nice to know so that I could prepare—the space physically and my heart emotionally. All of my stuff had been moved around, and it was hard to find things that I needed. In the big scheme of things, not a big deal. I get that. At the moment, though, it seemed like too much:
I was still grieving, had no privacy, and had to put on a happy face for the guests.
One group left, I had three days of school, and then all hell broke loose in Haiti. The civil unrest that started on February 7 shut down the country. Schools closed, businesses closed, and protesters roamed the streets. For the next week I stayed at the orphanage compound, never leaving because it was too dangerous. No one else left the compound either due to the danger.
A week after the civil unrest started, I made the difficult decision to return to the States. While I knew I was safe at the orphanage, I worried that my presence there might put the orphanage director, her staff, and the kids in danger, for where there is a blan, there is money and food, or at least access to money and food. After checking to make sure that the roads to the airport where safe (no barricades, no fires, no gangs), I purchased a one-way ticket, packed a bag, and headed out with my escorts.
I had only been back to Haiti for 12 days when I had to leave again. Another tough decision. Another tough transition. More tough times for Haiti.
I write this blog from the safety of my home in Illinois. I don’t know when I will be able to return to Haiti—it could be in a week or two or a month or two. The not knowing is hard. Not sure how to stay busy, but also not sure how “settled” to become.
