Being Home

Sunday, January 08, 2006

I recently spent almost a month at home in Bloomington, Minnesota over the holidays. My reception at the airport from my family wasn’t exactly what I might have hoped: “Hi Brian! Is your hair thinning?” (lesson #1 about being home—it’s not all strawberries and cream.) For those keeping track, the answer is no!

Regardless of that less-than-auspicious start, it was smooth sailing from there on out. Right after getting back, I spent a few days at Notre Dame producing a short film about the town where I am living. The result, The Road to Fondwa, will be available at www.unif2004.org soon. Lesson #2 about being home—a constant source of electricity goes a long way to getting projects done.

I headed out to the East Coast for a few days after that, stopping in DC and New York. I had to take a bus from New York to DC to catch my return flight home, but the day of my flight just happened to be the start of the public transport strike (lesson #3—Haiti isn’t the only place where things go wrong. The one constant seems to be me.) I was lucky enough to have my friend Chris offer me his spot in the carpool to get to the city; he called in sick so I could make it home for Christmas.

Over the course of celebrating Christmas, New Year’s, and three birthdays, my family did a fair amount of going out during my time at home. Being back in a place where a half-liter of Coke doesn’t cost 25 cents and money and consumer products are just about everywhere was a reminder that the world is wealthy enough to provide for everyone’s basic needs, it’s simply a matter of distribution (lesson #4—the money is there, we just have to use is wisely.)

Besides the great time I had with family and friends, there was a side benefit to my generous consumption. When I returned to Haiti, almost all of my friends have been saying “wow, Brian, you look great!” I’m pretty sure they’re telling me that I was too skinny before, and I look better now that I’ve put on some meat (lesson #5—Haitians like ‘em plump!)

Returning to Haiti was almost like a homecoming; I was welcomed not only as a friend, but as a moun lakay—a person of the house—in the residence where I stay when I’m in Port-au-Prince. The warm temperature, the bustling city, the smell of fresh bread from the bakery, the sonorous Creole coming from the street, all of these things have become welcome parts of my life (lesson #6—home is where the heart is, pa vre?)