Photo Essay: From Quake Victims, a Stirring Refrain
PORT-AU-PRINCE (Feb. 25) -- I woke up Monday morning, stumbled out to get something to eat in Petionville and suddenly found myself in the middle of a wordless mob. A hundred people were standing in the road, between the intersection of Rue Lamarre and Rue Rigaud. Mobs pop up everywhere these days as people seek out food and water. But this group seemed somber, not needy.I pushed through the crowd and at its center discovered the body of a young woman -- her left foot, missing; her blood, traveling in a small stream downhill. She was killed on her way to work at 7 a.m. by a reckless driver who fled the scene.
"But that's Haiti," everyone says. People are using the earthquake as an excuse to ignore traffic laws. Even when there is a body in the road: "That's Haiti."
By now I've heard that phrase a thousand times. This week I finally settled into it. But until I learned what it really means, it invariably raised my blood pressure.
An architect, describing to me the governmental process that led to houses being built without standards: "Emily, that is Haiti."
Emily Troutman for AOL News"That's Haiti." It's a phrase the author has heard over and over again to describe the country's post-earthquake chaos. But the phrase has been around a lot longer than that.
A United Nations official, speaking to me about the current state of affairs: "The apathy of Haitians knows no bounds. Just be frank about it." She concluded, "That's Haiti."My friend, describing trying to distribute food in her neighborhood only to be swiftly accused by her neighbors of taking money from abroad and squandering it: "I don't try to do anything anymore. You know? That's Haiti."
It is another way of saying, "What do you expect?" Eventually I started saying it myself.
Walking through the neighborhood, I passed another body in the street. This time, the man wasn't quite dead, just very close. He was passed out drunk, and swarms of flies circled his face. Two non-earthquake bodies in two days? It was near noon, and the sun was beating down.
More Emily Troutman Essays:I decided to call my friend Karl Jean-Jeune. Karl is Haitian, but he returned from Miami only six months ago. I didn't need sympathy, just a witness.
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- Haiti's Story Rolls On as Journalists Roll Out"Hey, um, I don't know why I'm calling," I said, "except that there's this guy here, on the side of the road, and he looks dead. But, um, I guess he's not."
I laughed. Karl laughed. I took a deep breath. I don't remember what I said next, but it was probably an expletive, something about the surreality of our lives these past few weeks, our general state of seeing horrible things and not being able to do anything.
It's not the first time in my life that I've felt this way. Nor the only place in the world. But what I said was, "Well, that's Haiti."
Taken at face value, it's a phrase I dislike, and one I don't feel entitled to say. Maybe Haitians can say it about Haiti, or people who've been here long enough to be fully exasperated. I am neither.
Emily Troutman for AOL News"That's Haiti" has been around for years. And most people who say it are Haitians. They say it with humor, as a way of explaining the unexplainable.
When I finally started asking my friends about it, though, everyone told me not to feel so bad. "That's Haiti" has been around for years. Clearly, it's what people say when there are no more words for what's gone wrong. But "That's Haiti" is not an accusation, it's love. It's not denial -- it's a form of acceptance.I was surprised to learn that the people who say "That's Haiti" the most are Haitians, and they're not angry; they're smiling. Ex-pats especially love to point out what's "Haitian," or when things go awry, turn to me and say, "Welcome to Haiti."
"Do you see how people wash their face like that? That's so Haitian."
"I didn't get the generator from the mechanic. He says he was afraid to turn it on. Welcome to Haiti."
These days, when the Ordinarily Shocking is only a footnote to the Really Shocking, and the Really Shocking isn't shocking at all anymore, it seems easy to sum everything up with, "That's Haiti." But for the people who say the words, it's less easy than it seems.
Life is less easy than it seems. Friends pull out their cell phones at cafes and scroll through photos of the very dead -- bodies, limbs, the bloated, the unnamed. We sleep in tents. We see no progress. We laugh. We witness deeply private moments as they unfold in the streets. We take cold showers and we don't complain. We feel terribly lucky and unlucky all at once.
Again and again, I am startled by everyone else's calm. But now I see "That's Haiti" might be at the center of it.
The reason that the chaos and looting never materialized is that Haiti is a dysfunctional family, writ large. And the earthquake is just another Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong.
Emily Troutman for AOL NewsChildren in the suburb of Petionville find diversion by creating a makeshift ride out of crushed plastic bottles and a steep driveway.
President Rene Preval is Haiti's absentee father. The U.N. is its drunk uncle. The fight over aid is that painfully awkward argument during the turkey dinner. But by evening, Haitians are sitting back, like friends at the bar, laughing at how some things never change.It's true, when people say, "That's Haiti," they are saying, "What do you expect?" It begs the question: What do you expect? These are tough times, no getting around it. Haitians love Haiti, unconditionally; and sometimes, unconditional love just looks a lot like patience.
Today, this is what Haiti can teach us: We can mourn and complain, we can be shocked and appalled. Or we can breathe and go forward, smile and move on. Yes, that's Haiti.
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