Reentry

Sometimes I think my parents' generation had it right, when people returned from experiences overseas by boat. It gave them a chance to decompress and process a foreign experience, be it war, missionary work, or even a new culture. In Viet Nam we moved soldiers from battlefield to fireside in a day. It was tough to adjust. Thank God, I haven't had to experience war, but what I saw in Milot, as well as what was I was able to do, has provided me a completely different perspective into humanity, our world, and myself.

The trip to the Cap Haitian airport was in the back of the Hospital ambulance and the ride was over the unimproved roads that I experienced on the back of the motorbike. The bike was definitely smoother. At the airport, you, not just your bags were weighed. The metal detector was turned off. As we walked to the plane, I could see the Citadel in the distance. Local kids were riding their bicylces next to the runway.

Departing to the north we made a left turn and I could see Cap, and the crowding. Just beyond was the dirt road to the beach, and then wide expanses of forested mountains. We needed to stop in Exhuma, Bahamas for fuel. The ramp was lined with business jets and I could see the high end resorts. Landing at Lauderdale, I was overwhelmed by the density of the roads, the large houses with pools and the general high levels of movement and activity. I felt jostled and crowded at Customs.

I made my way to the Southwest checkin which was quiet. After clearing security (there were interesting smiles as the masks and sculptures passed through the machines,) I got something to eat. Still wanted rice. A woman in her early thirties, in scrub pants, was wearing a Haiti bracelet. She was a nurse practitioner, coming from the tent city at Port au Prince, having treated pediatric burns and trauma from the aftermath of the living conditions. As she spoke, she broke into tears, and I hugged her. We talked briefly about the transition from what we had seen to back into America. She nodded, dried her eyes, and got on her plane.

I slept fitfully, had a glass of wine, and tried to read. As the lights of Providence grew bigger and my Blackberry came alive, I reminded myself to follow the advice I gave the staff as they were leaving - go slow, recognize that your friends and family have not experienced what you have, and be easy with them as they will be with you. My family and friends have done that thus far, and I am grateful.

People that know me and followed my blog have commented that they saw a change. I am the same person, just more aware of my abilities, more appreciative of the support and love of friends and family, and more committed to look beyond myself to those around me. Sometimes it takes seeing the darkness of human suffering to get that enlightenment.

I'll be taking a few days off, as I edit photos, and reflect on more stories that I think you'll find interesting. I've truly enjoyed taking you with me on this journey.