A different look. . .

So often as human beings we make comparisons. I guess it is part of the thinking brain essentially done in order to predict the future, solve a problem, or avoid a pitfall. I have also found, sometimes, we can be terribly wrong. This is particularly true as it pertains to spirituality. I have a feeling that us being terribly wrong is God's sense of humor and Irony and sometimes the joke is on us. Not in a malicious sense, but more with a loving one sided grin and an"I told you so". As I compare life and work in Haiti to that in the states, I cannot help but reflect on this spiritual irony and have put together some of my own comparisons. 1.At home, I love a hot shower. It relaxes me and raises my body temperature just enough to make me tired before I slip into warm sheets and drift off to sleep. One of the rudest awakening in Haiti is that there is no such thing as a hot shower. However, after soaking in your own sweat and the Haitian humidity all day, there is nothing more refreshing or comforting than a cold shower even from a headless spigot. No water pressure, but as you look around you, you find yourself grateful that you are not bathing in the river. 2.Technology. Haitians are catching up. They have dirt floors and chickens running through a makeshift "kitchen" with an open fire, but by golly they have cellphones with Internet access. However, there are no agreements between any US carriers and Haiti, so it is ridiculously expensive to have your cell phone on . So I turn it off. I check email in the evening once per day . And guess what? I survive, maybe thrive. There have not been any earth shaking cataclysmic events that have come over my email that needed addressing immediately. And when or if they do, it will be very comforting to know I will not be able to fix them anyway.so hey, party on...with no cell phone..cool. 3. A "rainy day". We almost always curse a rainy day at home. No sun, gray, drab, depressing, can't enjoy the out of doors. Understandable, especially in Michigan. However, in Haiti a rainy day is a gift. It cools the air, it settles the dust. Particularly at night, it is a soothing comforting sound, a cool blanket in a hot room enabling us to drift off to sleep. A welcomed treat. 4. Productivity, efficiency: in the states I am always so conscious of the use of my time. How effective am I in my job, family, community? How much work can I get done in a day? In an hour? That "equation" totally goes out the window in Haiti. It quickly becomes " what can you do with what you have?" Because the simplest tasks such as basic water, food, travel are so precious and difficult to come by, your assessment of what can be accomplished has to change to maintain your sanity. In the operating room or the clinic, I never "measure" by how many people I can see or cases I can do like notches on my belt. But I measure whether or not I was able to improve the quality of life of the one person I am with that day, that hour, that moment. To impose modern westernized ( maybe even perverse) standards of "productivity" into the Haitian equation is an exercise in futility. It does not compute. But what you do for that one person in one moment is immeasurable, priceless...and God grins at our discovering this. 5. My watch. At home I have to "watch my watch". If I don't , all the people I interact with all day will be breathing down my neck. Appointment times kept, meetings running on time, other's time respected..Fine. In Haiti, they have watches, but I am not sure they really are used very much. When it is dark and we are tired, we go to bed. When the rooster crows ( literally) and the sky is just lightening up a little and the light is peeking through the window, we know it is 6:55am. Time to get up and start the day. Maybe that is more "normal". Who is to say? 5. Definition of "Hard". Sometimes I think a 16 hour day is hard. Trying to lead people who are not thinking is hard. Mastering the piano is hard...All of these.... Not really. Being disabled in Haiti and being capable of some work but being turned away from this job( only because you are "disabled" ) and not being able to find food or shelter AND being disabled is hard. Trying to raise two young children after your philandering husband has left you and you have no skills to support them is hard. There is certainly no such thing as "Public assistance". Being continuously infected with parasites or bug bites or typhoid because you have dirt floors, chickens living with you and no sanitation is hard. Life here is hard. Period. Interestingly, there are people here that "do hard" quite well- with absolutely no public assistance. They have raised and educated their children- somehow. They are disabled, but they are sharing with others that are disabled. This has hardened my outlook for people in the states that think they have it hard, but , in reality, there are so many assistance programs and mechanisms for them to improve their condition as to leave no excuses for them short of physical or mental disability. On the other hand it has softened my outlook for the other parts of the world, that really set the bar where "hard" should be- desperate for basic resources and needs and no mechanism to reasonably meet them. We ( all of us in the states) need to participate in helping and contributing to those truly hard conditions and stop making excuses for people who cannot seem to" make the most with what they got to improve their lot" I will think of more, but enough pontificating for one trip...I think God is grinning. Maybe more of a sarcastic smirk, a roll of the eyes and an, "I told you so. Why wouldn't you listen to me in the first place." Scott Wilkinson