January 12, 2010 was a typical day for Bazelais Vaval or “Baz”, as his friends call him. He was living on Rue Docteur Aubry, a section of Port-au-Prince right near the Cathedrale Notre Dame de L'Assomption, one of Haiti's largest churches and where Haitian presidents attend mass on special occasions. It was just a short distance from the National Palace, Haiti's version of The White House, and the most powerful and recognizable symbol in the small island country. A gleaming white French Renaissance style building, complete with columns and domes, it was the home of the president and the center of Haitian government for over ninety years.
Baz woke up in the morning, took a shower and headed off to class. His home was in a small beach community an hour and a half northwest of Port-au-Prince, but he was staying with his aunt in the city while he attended mechanical school at Centre de la Technologie Moderne d'Haiti. After school, he came home and took a nap for a few hours and woke up around 2pm to get some homework done. He sat on the porch of his aunt's home working on his studies.
At 4:53pm, Baz's life changed forever. Life for millions of Haitians changed forever. The ground began to rumble and shake, his laptop jumping and crashing to the ground. Afraid and unsure of what was going on, Baz stood up and ran into the living room of his trembling home. Everything was in disarray. All of his family's belongings had been shaken and pushed from their places, scattered all over the floor. He stumbled his way to the front door and pushed his way through it, where he saw Port-au-Prince like he had never seen it before. The sky was dark...full of smoke from fires and dust rising from all of the collapsed buildings. People were yelling...in pain, in terror, in loss. Houses had collapsed all around. It was then, when Baz stepped out of his house and looked around that he first realized what had just happened. A 7.0 magnitude earthquake had rocked his home. There was nothing but death and blood and destruction everywhere he looked. All signals were lost. No phones. No radio. No way to contact family members other than yelling and searching.
Baz woke up in the morning, took a shower and headed off to class. His home was in a small beach community an hour and a half northwest of Port-au-Prince, but he was staying with his aunt in the city while he attended mechanical school at Centre de la Technologie Moderne d'Haiti. After school, he came home and took a nap for a few hours and woke up around 2pm to get some homework done. He sat on the porch of his aunt's home working on his studies.
At 4:53pm, Baz's life changed forever. Life for millions of Haitians changed forever. The ground began to rumble and shake, his laptop jumping and crashing to the ground. Afraid and unsure of what was going on, Baz stood up and ran into the living room of his trembling home. Everything was in disarray. All of his family's belongings had been shaken and pushed from their places, scattered all over the floor. He stumbled his way to the front door and pushed his way through it, where he saw Port-au-Prince like he had never seen it before. The sky was dark...full of smoke from fires and dust rising from all of the collapsed buildings. People were yelling...in pain, in terror, in loss. Houses had collapsed all around. It was then, when Baz stepped out of his house and looked around that he first realized what had just happened. A 7.0 magnitude earthquake had rocked his home. There was nothing but death and blood and destruction everywhere he looked. All signals were lost. No phones. No radio. No way to contact family members other than yelling and searching.
Both the cathedral and the National Palace fell that day...magnificent, concrete structures, intricate details, peeks and domes and columns. Symbols of strength and faith...just demolished in a mere instant. They took decades to build and seconds to crumble, a devastating reminder of Mother Nature's power.
Baz went back in the house long enough to find a t-shirt and shoes and then headed out in search of his aunt and young cousin. He knew his cousin had been at school, but couldn't find either of them anywhere. Distraught, tired, scared, he returned home...and realized that he had been one of the lucky ones. There they both were on the street outside their house. A house behind them had partially collapsed onto the back of theirs, but otherwise, they were all safe and alive.
It is often said that tragedy is one of the things that really brings people together. Families, communities, cities, countries...and that is what Baz witnessed on the street in front of his home that evening. Young, old, rich, poor, middle class, upper class...huddled together, helping, comforting each other, bracing for the next big aftershock. The death toll from that day is unknown, but some estimates have it as high as 316,000 people. Another 300,000 were injured. 1.5 million people lost their homes and today, five years later, some 85,000 people still remain in temporary camps.
But it's not all bad news for Haiti. A new president, Michel Martelly, was elected in 2011 and according to Baz, he has cleaned up a lot of the city and moved many Haitians from tents into new homes. He has started a government feeding program that allows citizens in need to buy food at a very low discounted price. Much of the rubble has been cleared. Solar lighting systems have been added to the streets of Port-au-Prince easing travel and increasing security. More tourists are visiting Haiti. More funds are in coming in from other countries under Martelly's government than previous dictators who brought Haiti from a jewel of the Caribbean to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.
When I think of all Baz experienced on that day and the weeks and months after....what his friends experienced, his family, his countrymen, I can't imagine bouncing back with as much hope as they have. I have visited Haiti 6 times over the last 2 and half years and I know it's only the beginning of a lifetime of trips. Every time I return is better than the last. Every time I return I see more progress and more hope. Some may look at Haiti and see poverty and destruction. They may see a country fighting for its footing in the wake of this horrible tragedy. They may see loss and pain and struggle...but not me.
When I look at Haiti, I see beauty everywhere...in tall green mountains and crystal blue waters, in childrens' smiles, in the way people take care of each either, in the way they worship God. When I look at Haiti, I see possibility...in teenagers desperate to learn, in men, like Baz, who bring so much positivity to the people around them, in a beautiful destination for tourism, in women, tough as nails who will do anything to provide for their families. When I look at Haiti, I see people who are richer than some Americans may ever be when it comes to what really matters....riches of the heart. Hope. Love. Faith.
When I look at Haiti, I see a place where I can make a difference...not for everyone, but maybe just for one, or ten. When I look at Haiti, I see a place and countless experiences that have changed who I am....that have made me less of a dreamer and more of a doer....that have filled my heart with more joy than I ever thought possible....that have made me a better version of myself.
When I look at Haiti, I see hope. I see what it can be. I see what it already is despite some really tough circumstances. I see people like Baz who have every reason to be angry and defeated, but who perpetuate all of those positive things. The earthquake may have changed his life that day. It may have changed a lot of lives. It may have changed Haiti, but hope is still so present. One silly story and a chuckle from Baz, a smile, a testimony of faith amidst so much hard “stuff” is just proof that the Aquaman, and so many others like him, will help Haiti rise.
It is often said that tragedy is one of the things that really brings people together. Families, communities, cities, countries...and that is what Baz witnessed on the street in front of his home that evening. Young, old, rich, poor, middle class, upper class...huddled together, helping, comforting each other, bracing for the next big aftershock. The death toll from that day is unknown, but some estimates have it as high as 316,000 people. Another 300,000 were injured. 1.5 million people lost their homes and today, five years later, some 85,000 people still remain in temporary camps.
But it's not all bad news for Haiti. A new president, Michel Martelly, was elected in 2011 and according to Baz, he has cleaned up a lot of the city and moved many Haitians from tents into new homes. He has started a government feeding program that allows citizens in need to buy food at a very low discounted price. Much of the rubble has been cleared. Solar lighting systems have been added to the streets of Port-au-Prince easing travel and increasing security. More tourists are visiting Haiti. More funds are in coming in from other countries under Martelly's government than previous dictators who brought Haiti from a jewel of the Caribbean to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.
When I think of all Baz experienced on that day and the weeks and months after....what his friends experienced, his family, his countrymen, I can't imagine bouncing back with as much hope as they have. I have visited Haiti 6 times over the last 2 and half years and I know it's only the beginning of a lifetime of trips. Every time I return is better than the last. Every time I return I see more progress and more hope. Some may look at Haiti and see poverty and destruction. They may see a country fighting for its footing in the wake of this horrible tragedy. They may see loss and pain and struggle...but not me.
When I look at Haiti, I see beauty everywhere...in tall green mountains and crystal blue waters, in childrens' smiles, in the way people take care of each either, in the way they worship God. When I look at Haiti, I see possibility...in teenagers desperate to learn, in men, like Baz, who bring so much positivity to the people around them, in a beautiful destination for tourism, in women, tough as nails who will do anything to provide for their families. When I look at Haiti, I see people who are richer than some Americans may ever be when it comes to what really matters....riches of the heart. Hope. Love. Faith.
When I look at Haiti, I see a place where I can make a difference...not for everyone, but maybe just for one, or ten. When I look at Haiti, I see a place and countless experiences that have changed who I am....that have made me less of a dreamer and more of a doer....that have filled my heart with more joy than I ever thought possible....that have made me a better version of myself.
When I look at Haiti, I see hope. I see what it can be. I see what it already is despite some really tough circumstances. I see people like Baz who have every reason to be angry and defeated, but who perpetuate all of those positive things. The earthquake may have changed his life that day. It may have changed a lot of lives. It may have changed Haiti, but hope is still so present. One silly story and a chuckle from Baz, a smile, a testimony of faith amidst so much hard “stuff” is just proof that the Aquaman, and so many others like him, will help Haiti rise.