Haiti Day Eight: A Time to Mourn

Today began three days of mourning in Haiti. Exactly one month ago, just before five p.m., “the event” struck this land. Finally, Haitians are taking time to honor their dead and reflect on their new reality.

It sounds like a sad day. But somehow, it was weirdly uplifting. Hundreds of thousands of white-clad Haitians crammed into the downtown streets to listen to prayer, preaching and praise from the stage in front. All over the city, people went to church, marched through the streets, sang, chanted, smiled, shared, and remembered. Of course it wasn’t without some tears and sorrow (it is a day of mourning after all), but it really felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from the country’s shoulders. One month seems to be a good milestone, an indication that it’s OK to be happy again.

One old man approached me this morning and said, “After God in the sky, you are the only hope for our country.” That’s an awfully big burden for me to bear, and he may have been a bit crazy…but he had a giant smile as he said it, and I understood the sentiment. He was happy to see that the world still cares, that even a month later, Haiti still matters to us.

In the late afternoon, I spotted a group of guys playing basketball on a streetside hoop painted with a Miami Heat logo. Let’s play, I said. After a few mediocre games of street ball, I left my new friends and walked away with sweaty jeans. When we left, my interpreter said something that didn’t even cross my mind. “That was nice,” she said with a smile. “It seemed like such a normal thing. Just a game of pick-up basketball. Feels good to see things like that happening again.” I looked at the ruins of the Justice Ministry a few feet away, at my teammate who’s lost his university, at my opponent who’s lost his best friend. No matter who won, it was a good day for all. A day to begin the healing.