Going Home

It's ten o'clock at night on my last night in Haiti. I am staying at a guesthouse in Port au Prince and I can't sleep. I can hear the soft breathing of a lady in a bed next to mine. From somewhere nearby I hear Josh Groban belting out You Raise Me Up. A baby goat is crying and a moto is passing in the street. A gentle breeze passes through the room. Two hours ago I "had sleep in my eyes," as the saying goes in Creole. Now sleep seems as far away as the States.

There are no words to describe the past three months, not even in Creole, the language even my dreams are speaking. There were so many moments when I was ready to be home. I was ready to be in my own space, to study without mosquitoes circling, and to feel a small sense of control over my life. Now all I can think about is how soon I can return. How I'll bring this but not that, more toothpaste, less conditioner. I'll plan my travel better. I'll see more friends before journeying west to Jérémie. I suppose this heartache at leaving is an indication of a time well spent.

Tonight has been a night of inquiry, both internal and external. People in guesthouses are quick with certain questions: what have you been doing here, where do you come from, how long have you been here, etcetera. Most questions are easily answered. It's that first question that continues to confound me. What have I been doing here? Beyond taking vitals, making friends, painting walls and scrubbing floors, I've been doing lots of listening. With that has come learning, and with that has been days, weeks and months of contemplation.

From this I know that I want to be a doctor. I know that I want to continue to be involved in Haiti. I know that these two things are not incongruous. The question is, how married are they? Do I want to return as Dr. Wolf has, for years and years on end? Do I feel it worthwhile to the country's long term development goals to come back on shorter terms?

I grew interested in medicine because previous time in Haiti exposed me to its practicality. The medical care of a physician is a precious commodity. It has no alternatives and in many areas, is difficult to find. It is my goal to be able to offer physician's services to those without access to them, both here in Haiti, back in the States, and all over the world.

I suppose before I can do that I have to go home.

Until next time Haiti,

Hannah