Being Serious

If you read the blog about my trip to Gertrude's home village, I hope you heard some humor thrown in with the events that tried my patience.  I do want to take a moment to reflect on some of the serious moments and thoughts that I had.

I wrote the following sentence in the previous blog: "mob of greedy, needy, pushy, people."  I'm not proud of those words, but it's what I felt at the time.  I wanted the people to line up and be polite.  I wanted them to wait their turn and listen to me.  I felt bad for Rhonda (and me) because I wanted her to be able to get some good pictures of thankful people to take back to her mother and the group of women who lovingly made the dresses.  I was angry at Gertrude and the priest for not helping us out.

In my anger I took away a gift that wasn't mine to take away.  Pretty pathetic.

 In my head, I can say I understand why the Haitians acted the way they did: "they are extremely poor, they don't have much and they don't know when they will get anything, if they wait they won't get anything so they have to be pushy, they are desperate."  In my heart, though, I don't truly understand.  That pushiness, that "in-your-face-I'm-going-to-get-what-I-can" neediness turns me off.  I want them to contain their neediness to acceptable levels (as determined by me, of course).

I tend (I think . . . I hope) to not ask for what I need, much less what I want.  I tend (I think . . . I hope) to hang back, thinking that patience will bring me through in the end.  And even when I stand firm and demand, I tend (I think . . . I hope) to do so with a quiet, firm voice.  I don't shout, push, and get in people's faces (I think . . . I hope).

You see, I can intellectualize the situation, but I can't truly understand it.  I have never . . . NOT ONCE . . . lived in want.  I have never known what it is like to not know where my next meal is coming from.  I have never feared that my child would die due to starvation, disease, or illness.  Because I have never experienced those things, I can't know how/why Haitians act the way they do.

I have lived a life of luxury and comfort my entire life.  I live with the privilege of knowing that no matter what, not matter where I am in the world, I have a passport that lets me into the richest country in the world. I can escape anytime.  Haitians, and others who live in this type of poverty, don't have that escape.  Their reality is here with all its hardships, flaws, hopes, and fears.

When a gift is given, it should be given with no strings attached, no requirements on demonstrating thanks, no certain behaviors expected.  I forgot that when I took the dresses and walked away.  I attached expectations to the gift, making it no longer a gift.

I missed an opportunity to walk with the people of Damassin on their journey for that one day.  Instead of making it a joyful distribution of a gift made with love, I made it about my expectations.

I pray God gives me a chance to learn from this and do it better next time.