When Bubbles Burst (Lessons from Haiti)
For months now, I have been struggling to find a balance between multiple worlds… the unemployed, the artist, the friend, the brother, the heartbroken, the dreamer, the uninsured hospital patient, the aspiring student, the optimist…
And events like these remind me how small the real world is and just how separated we really are from our neighbors. My life is too often a selfish one, living in moments and convincing myself that this whirlpool of thought and event has me trapped in a cycle destined to drown me. And, at seemingly the last possible moment, I battle these forces and currents to safety on pleasant banks, basking in a warm sun that melts shadows and illuminates a landscape of growth and hope. This is nothing but a snowglobe placed far away from that elusive bigger picture. And finally, it has been shaken.
Hospitals and schools are crumbling in the poorest country in the hemisphere. Homes have fallen into giants cracks spllitting Earth’s crust. People are suffering. People are suffering. People are suffering. Haiti is a war zone caused by Mother Nature and compounded by social inequality, political corruption, and the international reproduction of inequality. They have limited to no resources, broken communication, and a demolished infrastructure. This is not a good situation for a place built on weak economic foundations. This is a suffering that most of us can not comprehend.
And yet here we sit, discussing it between episodes of Dexter on Netflix, posting sympathies on Facebook, and thanking our lucky stars that it wasn’t Mount Rainier exploding into fiery rain, collapsing the Alaskan Way Viaduct and bringing Columbia Tower to her knees. We are thankful that it was not our children in those schools or family members in those hospitals. I am typing this from the studio of our rented house, shivers at bay by central heat and bones dry by walls and rooftop. The only screams I hear are the ones I create in my head as I picture the pain these people must feel. Images of airplanes and tall buildings, of large waves erasing entire villages like tides on sandcastles, and true-to-life cultural immersion from disintegrating flood walls deluge my lucidity.
Nobody I know was there to give me a first-hand account, and that often takes away from the reality of it all. It allows us to care until it’s old news, the snow settles back to our feet, and our snowglobe wears its usual white carpet while the bigger picture once again becomes a backdrop for the intangibles of outer space. My good friend and inspiration was supposed to be there on Saturday. The chair of my old Anthropology Department flew back the day before; applied fieldwork in Haiti is her life’s endeavor. It is closer to home than we think. These are our neighbors, and they are suffering.
Yet, I find myself continuing with this job hunt, painting, and considering local artistic collaborations. Weeks ago, I was panicked at the thought that my own life was not nearly as invulnerable as it appeared. It has me making changes: giving up intoxicants, creating, studying, staying motivated, and pushing for a future that has me more involved. My personal world is a lot stronger than I surmised, and that too is a tragedy. We trap ourselves in smaller worlds, and it is fair to no one.
Life is about happiness. Comfort is often an easy path to that result, but when our perceived shadows dissipate and vulnerability is unmasked, we can no longer hide even from ourselves. We all have a responsibility to try harder in this more expansive world, to come to the aid of our neighbors, and evolving into the individuals that we are capable of becoming. With every selfless action, the world suffers less.
The Earth is trembling. Please come out of your bubbles.
