Bloated Heads, Niagra Falls, and Port Au-Prince

I have had a few realizations this week that I will share whether anyone wants to hear them or not. For one, this week has been not been so great. First, we being sick and not feeling 100%, and second with the excitement of being in a third world country weaning and the realization that I am in a third world country finally hitting me. I was becoming tired of the culture, of the heat, of the food, of basically my life. It finally hit it's peak Wednesday morning when, sweating like Niagra Falls, I decided that by Saturday I was going to be on an airconditioned airplane heading comfortably back to the land of McDonalds, paved roads, trash cans, and English. If I had the option I would have just left right then and there, but I figured that just walking away from the loan officer without explaining myself might have been awkward, so I figured I would push through the day.

Our second meeting of the day was with a group of Hatians in an apartment complex. Disorganized and with only three able to speak Spanish, we sat around waiting for everyone to show up. Raymond, the loan officer, turned to me and mentioned that while we waited I could conduct my interview. So I turned to the woman (that supposedly spoke Spanish, but it was more like creolish) and listened to her story. She has been living in the DR for a few months on her own in this community of Haitians. Her husband and daughter, along with the rest of her family, are back in Haiti. When I asked her if she had any problems with her loan, she said no. But then I pushed her and asked her that if she had had any problems outside of the loan that affected her loan. And then she mentioned that she is from Port Au-Prince and that her husband was killed in the earthquake. She also mentioned that now her daughter lives with her mother and her newly widowed sister as well.

I am not one of those disaster junkies, one of the thousands that has swarmed to Haiti to help (no offense to anyone over there now). This may result in a lot of backlash, but lets be honest, most people, while having good intentions, are really hurting Haiti more than helping. That is all I am going to say right now, an argument for another time. However, to be in the presence of a woman who has just gone through a drastic change in her life, especially one from a disaster that we all know so much about, was almost, honorable. But it was also a shot to my bloated head.She was her today, able to support her family back in Haiti that she clearly missed so much, because of the loan Esperanza had given her.

The second realization came today, whilst riding on the back of Robert's bike through the streets of Santiago. It hit me then and there, that what I was doing at that exact morning, commuting from bank meeting to bank meeting on the back of a motorbike in the DR isnot normal. No matter what comes of the internship itself (which a lot will don't get me wrong) the experience and the opportunity to be in this country is simply amazing. Sure, their accent frustrates me. And sure, their food is too bland. But I am here. And I am doing the will of God on a day to day basis. Can it get any better than that?

Well, with places like this to go to, no :)