Returning to Petit-Goâve after Goudougoudou

Goudougoudou, you caused my people to despair, left my family homeless, killed my relatives and friends, put our society on the front page of all the newspapers in the world with all our weakness, our division, our inequality; you focused attention on our suburban cities and places without showing our pride, our solidarity, our struggle, our perseverance. The newspapers never show our nice and beautiful little houses in the countryside, the beaches where the employees of international organizations hang out and enjoy themselves while they are supposed to serve and help us.

Goudougoudou, when they dare to talk about our courage and strength or perseverance they change the meaning. They take all the good from it and leave us with resilience; we become a kind of people who accept any unacceptable situation, people who can live anywhere in any bad condition that no one else will actually accept.

Cameras came from all over the world and pointed their lenses at our devastated country to show us as powerless and weak Haitians waiting for international help and saviors. I went to Haiti two weeks after January 12 and saw solidarity in action. Every day, people helped each other, shared food and water together, were families and friends who welcomed one another and also received five to twenty-five other families in their “lakou” (yards). The camps were already being organized and natural leaders took over to handle the situation and distribute their resources with equity and justice. I saw Haitians take care of the more vulnerable ones, like the elderly and pregnant women, and give them priority. I heard stories of people without any sophisticated equipment who saved thousands of lives with their courage and bravery. I heard more stories of fathers and husbands, wives, sons, and daughters who searched for their loved ones under rubble, put them in plastic bags on their shoulders, and drove kilometers to bury them decently, while the Haitian government treated the bodies of the victims like those of vulgar animals. There were no legal authorities that took over or organized emergency relief for the victims, but the population stood up and took care of one another, as always. This is so sad to see, that it is that same government the international community seems to have no problem acknowledging and listening to, instead of the valiant population of Haiti.

I will never forget the day you entered abruptly into my life and changed it forever. I was on my way to school in Florida the afternoon of January 12, 2010 when a friend of mine called me and asked where I was. “At Broward College waiting to start class in an hour,” I answered.

“Brunine, did you listen to the radio?”

My heart started to beat faster. “Why?” I asked my friend.”

“Oh! Brunine, I am so sorry to be the first one to tell you, but things are bad in our country. We had an earthquake in Haiti, and they are still having aftershocks.”

“What?” I immediately turned on the radio, and I heard. I turned the radio button to 980 AM and heard the voices of Haitians crying and telling what they’d seen and what they’d heard, directly or not, from CNN or Haitian radio. I called my sister who lives in the Dominican Republic. She was trying to reach me at the same time. “What is going on in Haiti?” I asked her. “Did you hear from your husband, our sister, brothers, my mom?” I was asking so many questions at the same time.

She said, “Not yet, and don’t hang up. I am going to call Pierrot [her husband] and Solange [my sister who works in the same office] right now.”

I, Brunine, the woman who’s always in control, had to wait for my sister to tell me if my mom is dead, if my other sister is ok, if my brothers are alive and my nieces and nephews, my uncle, aunts, cousins, friends, and relatives. I kept listening to different talk shows on different stations, changing channels like a crazy...