Things I Will Miss When I Leave Haiti

Things I Will Miss When I Leave Haiti

Believe it or not, there are some peculiar things here in Haiti that I will miss when I leave.

 One in particular is the tap taps.  As mentioned in a prior entry, these are the intrastate people movers of Haiti.  These overcrowded, underpowered, stinky, noisy, unmaintained contraptions of transport are a major portion of Haiti’s economic survival.  They provide cheap and abundant rides ranging from down the street to across the country.  The operators are lousy drivers and have a love affair with their horns, but they are also some of the most creative artisans found in the country.  Each one of these wheeled contraptions has a unique paint scheme identifying it as a tap tap.  One can see words of blessing, wisdom, cathedral scenes of Christ’s ascension, death, resurrection; all sorts of scenes pertaining to Catholicism intermingled with color schemes and paint designs that would make Van Gogh and Picasso tilt their head and wonder. It is a part of their culture, part of who they are.  Nothing like it exists in the States except, perhaps, the collection of graffiti one sees on the railroad tanker and box cars as they rumble by at a rail crossing.  In a country full of seemingly disorder, trash and chaos, one can always know that that mosaic of dynamic colors careening at you is really your friend, your means of transport to or from your destination.

I have never really cared to travel much to other countries.  It seems that the people either scowl or frown at any move you make.  Disturbingly, I find this more and more in my own home country.  It seems odd, therefore, that a similar reception in Haiti is instantly changed to a white, pearly smile when you wave and give a thumb’s up signal.  I’ve seen nationals look askance at my presence, but when I present a friendly wave or give the universal signal that everything is cool; the inevitable ‘thumbs up’ sign, they mystically break into a huge smile.  Another thing about the Haitians, they have the prettiest smiles of anyone I have ever seen.  Their teeth are most often perfect, large and bleachy white.  Their faces light up with a brilliance seldom seen in others and their eyes glow with a sudden burst of happiness.  It is a strange marvel that surpasses understanding given the conditions they live.  But it is a fact with only a few exceptions, such as those with a hand out or a demand not met that these people seem to want to smile.  We could learn a lesson from that.

Haiti is a green country.  Granted, it has been stripped of its quality trees from the hills and there is a brown void on many hillsides, but, there is tropical vegetation that bursts out in a variety of green that lacks description.  Palm trees, sugar cane, coconut trees, banana trees, mangos, heavy grasses and an abundance of assorted fruit abound in both cultivated and wild areas.  Yes, there is the trash that captures the attention; there is the dirt and pollution that vies for the eye; there are rudimentary structures that are called homes; but it is iconic that such a dichotomy can exist; lush green vegetation amidst such ruin both in structure and in life.

I suppose it is good that there is such a plurality of green.  It brings hope in multiple ways, everywhere one looks.  And for a place so distraught, that is a reminder that God is still watching.  After all, where there are people, there can also be God’s love.