A postponed trip and two canceled tickets, in particular due to COVID-19 and insecurity in the country. It was after three and a half years that I finally had the opportunity to spend a week in Haiti to see some members of my family and some friends.
The day before I left, my father, who when he shows up is usually vaporous, begged me in no uncertain terms not to set foot in the country again. He gave me reasons that I already knew: insecurity, kidnappings, violence, deaths. There was, however, something different this time: the emotional charge in his voice, the fear.
I decided to leave, even if the timing wasn’t good, because I had just spent three days in the emergency room. I came out treated, but weakened, and now added fear. It was the first time that I was afraid to go to this country that I love so much. I took the plane, my stomach in knots. I had to go there.
On the day of my arrival, the roads were blocked in several places due to demonstrations related to the shortage of gasoline in the country. At least 89 people were killed that week in the capital during clashes between rival gangs.
Several kidnappings of people traveling by car in the middle of the day took place in a neighborhood located about thirty minutes from where I was staying. I was aware of the risks, but I went there because I felt the call was imperative for various reasons. One of them was the fear of not having the opportunity to set foot there again, seeing the people I used to go to leave the country little by little, when possible. Another had to do with major family upheavals and the need to provide comfort, emotional support, emotional security and love to a particular loved one.
The happiness of finally being reunited and the moments of shared pleasure and affection confirmed the choice I had made. Being in the country, being so well received there and seeing relatives has also done me a lot of good, despite the difficult context. I generally feel more connected and alive. I am also happy to have the certainty that this will not be, contrary to what I had imagined, the last time that I will go to Haiti.
I’m back in Montreal. I leave behind me, until next time, a country in crisis. A nameless crisis about which we speak little, if not at all, here. I leave behind people who live with fear in their stomachs every day. People who would like to leave the country to be able to live rather than just survive, and ensure a future for their children.
I have this privilege that so many people do not have to have a Canadian passport that allows you to travel for pleasure, often without a visa. I have the privilege of being able to leave whenever I want a place that would be a threat to my security, my integrity, my life.
I would like, through my message, to make people a little aware of this notion of privilege. Invite them to feel gratitude for it, but also and above all to show their solidarity and compassion to people for whom the reality is different… These people who are faced with the non-choice of having to take steps to try to leave a country (sometimes at the risk of their lives) that they love or have loved deeply. No one should experience this kind of heartbreak, mourning, rupture.
Of course, there are people in Haiti who continue to live, to resist, to keep hope, to fight. I am wholeheartedly with them, and a little glow that has reignited in me makes me want to believe it too. I love this country with a love that is difficult to explain.