Having been home from Haiti for a number of months now, I’m missing it more than ever—don’t seem able to get the place out of my stuck-in-middle-America mind.
I wrote a while back that leaving Port-au-Prince felt like an amputation—that Haiti was the phantom limb, the one I dream about, the one that calls to me at night.
I miss it terribly.
And I’m terribly restless these days, as well. My partner Sara and I have been back in the US for more than five months, but frankly I’m still reeling from the miracle that is Haiti—and aching to return.
So—longing for a place that changed me deeply and made me realize, not only how blessed we are in America, but how spoiled, as well, today I’ll share some photos. Below are the people and places that have marked my heart.
I hope you can love these faces as much as I do—
I miss these people.
I wish I were still living in Haiti. But I suppose my exile was inevitable.
Eventually we all get kicked off one island or another. A tribal council is convened. The votes are cast.
And someone has to go—
What form does your exile take? What do you feel separate from?