The Dichotomy

I have been silent since May because I didn't know how to write what was going on or what I was feeling. As most of you probably know by now, Sean and I made the decision in May to leave our work in Haiti to come back to the US, regroup, get healthier, and meet each other once again as husband and wife. See when you are giving all the time, when you are someone's one opportunity for a better life and they ask you for clothes/food/laptop/trip to the US/money, it wears on you and sometimes you forget why you signed up to sell everything you own and take a gigantic leap into the abyss with the one you love.

Since we've been back things have been lovely. We have gained back all the weight we lost in Haiti (plus a little extra), we've spent much-needed time with our American loved ones, we've re-connected with each other, we've rented movies, gone to concerts and slept on our cushy bed in our climate-controlled bug-free bedroom and we've eaten Thai food no less than once every two weeks (and chocolate every day...you don't know how every cell in my body missed Thai food and good chocolate when we were in Haiti and I fear I may have over-indulged). We've taken trips to spend special time with loved ones (nephew Carter's 3rd birthday, Grandpa Preston's 90th birthday/Preston family reunion, Grandpa Gene's 80th birthday/family cruise to the Caribbean (so close to Haiti...), trip to Carmel for our anniversary, trip to ND for Thanksgiving and many other special events.  Yet not a day goes by that my heart doesn't ache for Haiti and our loved ones there.

We have turned the student group Naturopaths Without Borders into a non-profit organization which has been a full-time gig and we are in talks with MamaBaby Haiti (the organization we worked for in Haiti) to see how the two can best coordinate to best-serve our Haitian brothers and sisters.  It's been a time of paperwork, meetings, learning about fundraising, marketing, taxes, the government, more meetings, running a business and it's been a blast. I've also started running, have practiced cooking (here and there), have practiced the piano (my generous, spectacular in-laws rented one for me to use while we're at their house) and have had time to catch up with and bask in the glow of loving my husband.  We even have a plan for how to keep our marriage a (huge) priority when someone needs us all the time. This is probably a great lesson for future (hopefully) parenting.

The United States and Haiti are so incredibly different it is such a shock to go from one to the other, especially when you've been in one for a few months. In Haiti it's chaotic and unpredictable. It helps me live in the moment and to realize that it's OK to dwell in ambiguity because planning ahead won't get you very far. It will get you frustrated. In the US it's not so chaotic and it's quite predictable. For example, I can put 5 things on my to-do list and 90% of the time, I'll get them all completed. In Haiti if I put 5 things on my to-do list, 10% of the time, I'll get them all completed. Haitian roads have goats, pigs, chickens, children, motorcycles, tap-taps, pot holes the size of a smart car and noise. The US has clearly divided lanes and you can be certain that people will (usually) stay in them, speed limits are marked, and the pavement is so smooth you could almost ice skate on it.

Now that we have made the decision to go (we'll be there so soon...Feb 8th!) back I struggle to find balance in this life while preparing for that life. Here I have reliable internet that's so fast you can even skype on it, I don't have to run out to the street to pay a man on the corner to recharge my cellphone with minutes so I can hear my mom's voice and if I crave any kind of food I can either go to a restaurant that makes it or cook it in the kitchen on a gas burning stove that lights itself. If my sister needs to talk, she can just call. We don't have to coordinate the time and worry about how much money we're spending in international cell phone fees.  There's no need to find a flashlight, buy some charcoal and rip bits of paper up to start a fire in order to make dinner because both the modern (electric) stove and the (backup) propane stove won't work. On to plan C. Yet somehow, when you've worked that hard for your dinner, it tastes better.

I still have so many unanswered questions and unresolved issues trying to live between these two very different worlds.  We just bought a house in AZ (designed to be our oasis when we need a break from working abroad) and we're supposed to decorate it. As a new home-owner I'm told I need to care about things like granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and paint colors to not only appear stylish, with it and modern; but to also increase the resale value of the home. Yet when I think of decorating and picking out paint colors in the context of Haiti I remember how only the very rich in Haiti have paint on their houses. The rest are the color of what they're made of.  Cement.  Or of scrap metal, old doors and tree branches.  It is unheard of for people to have a fridge but Americans wouldn't dream of going without one. Yet in Haiti we did just fine with a Coleman cooler and ice from the ice factory next door. For 7 months straight. Maybe it's OK if our appliances aren't all the same brand and if we use the same paint colors that the previous owners had. After all the paint is perfectly fine.  It's even a little trendy.  Repainting in Haiti would feel indulgent and wasteful. Repainting in the US is normal. I still have no idea what we will end up doing. Maybe something in between. Maybe we'll save our money and paint one room at a time just so some sort of sacrifice is involved.  On the one hand we've worked hard, we deserve to have a beautiful oasis to go home to when we need a break and if that means repainting, that's OK. Then I think about how the money saved from NOT repainting could save lives. Human lives. Human lives that have suffered more than you and I can imagine.