Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.

I've been thinking a lot today about my Haitian friends. I went to Haiti (Cape Haitian) in the summer of 2007. One of my friends there, Shirley, spends a month every year in Miami with family. My 17 year old self could not understand why she didn't just move to America, with air conditioning, and electricity, and a better education for her kids... She responded to my foolishness with a simple phrase- "people are lonely there".

Compared to Haiti, it's true. My life is disgustingly isolated compared to Shirley's. I live in my own little bubble, something that's not uncommon in America. Haitians don't. They congregate all the time, it seems as though the entire block was in our courtyard from sunrise to well after sunset. They talk. Discuss ideas. Laugh. They never complain. I was there in June- the temperature pushed 100 every day, with humidity that made the South East United States blush. Sweat constantly dripped from my face. I was always covered in dirt (but somehow the Haitians never were. I swear, Haitians repel dirt). The stench of rotting trash was unavoidable. And yet- my time in Haiti was full of joy. I'm not going to say I didn't miss the material things. Sleeping outside during voodoo month with mosquito netting over my face got old. But more memorable than a lack of electricity or potable water were the relationships I formed.

There were three young men (I would guess early 20's) that I met in Haiti whom I hope to always be friends with. Their names were Peterson, Mackenson, and Jean-Louis. I was able to connect with them a lot because I spoke French; I've never been more grateful for that. Jean-Louis was boisterous and a comedian. Peterson was unassuming and incredibly driven (particularly when it came to learning English). Mackenson didn't say much, but he loved to listen and observe. One evening, we got into a heated discussion about marriage and the differences in gender roles (Haiti vs. America). I remember passionately trying to explain to them that, in an American marriage, the man and the woman are equal. They didn't really know what to do with that. Jean-Louis fought me on it. Peterson considered it from a cultural lens. Mackenson just listened. I have no idea what he thought. It will probably offend a lot of people that women and men are far from equal in Haiti. But you know what, it works for them. Women aren't oppressed by their husbands. On the contrary- they're adored. More so than most American relationships, I'd guess. Haitians love so actively. They love each other, their country, their world, and anyone who visits it. They're such happy people, and incredibly sociable. No loneliness in Haiti. No petty drama. Everyone looks out for each other.

I wish my reality were more like that. Maybe it's because we're so tied to our possessions. Haitians don't have much, so they rely on each other. Is there a way to have both? Running water and gleefully saying 'Bonjou!' to everyone you see? Great education and stable incomes without elitism, just wanting to share your joy with the people near you? If I find that world, I'm staying there. I'll look until I do.