I am overwhelmed. By the magnitude of this tragedy. By the images. By the pain my country is going through.
I am lucky, because all through the night, we had no idea what was happening. But at day break, my favorite time of the day, I received a call from my sister to tell me that she had heard my father’s voice for herself, that he was alive, and I just closed my eyes and prayed to God, and I cried and I rocked, because my father is one of my best friends on this earth, he is my hero, and it was unthinkable that I should imagine a life without him alive on this earth with me.
I am sad because just as I received these wonderful calls, proof that our loved ones were still alive and breathing on this earth, there were so many more who hadn’t received those calls. Even worse were the thoughts of those who knew their loved ones still lived, buried beneath this building or that, but there was no one to call and notify and please get my loved one out alive.
I’m blessed by all the phones calls and tweets and texts and facebook messages that I have received from people around me who care, who just want to extend their hands and touch and lend their support and just let me know that they are there.
I am tired of the news coverage, all the “poorest country in the western hemisphere” and “4th poorest country in the world” ‘s as if that’s all that defines a people, that’s all that mattered. I am angry, because everyone acts as if the European countries and the US didn’t spend years shutting us out of the global economic system, for fear that we would liberate their slaves, leaving us to fare as best we could, oh but look back now and we have no idea how this could have happened right?
Mostly I close my eyes and cry and pray and try not to think about what’s gonna happen when people stop thinking about this tragedy and what we are going to do when everyone goes back to not caring about Haiti.