Shoolhouse, remote mountain village, Haiti
We had been driving for nearly two hours when the road ended. Not that it was much of a road – we had wound up and around and up again through rocky terrain on what would be better described as a dirt path, just wide enough for our 4wd vehicle. Little did we know that we were not yet half way to our destination – a small mountaintop village, inaccessible except by foot – a place without electricity, running water, or a well.
The reason for our visit was to deliver medical supplies and visit with some school children that our organization supported. The village was said to be one of the most remote and poorest in the region. On the way up the mountain, a journey that was at times more of a climb than a hike, we passed women villagers making their way down, balancing large casks for water or huge bundles of laundry on their head. Some of them carried children, too. They were on their way to their only source of water – a river at the bottom of the mountain. I marveled at how they managed to make such an arduous trek every day. It was so steep, the sun scorching. My camera gear, weighing probably no more than 8lbs, felt like half a ton. I couldn’t imagine making the same trip with 10 gallons of water on my head.
After 2 or 3 hours of hiking, my canteen dry, I was nearly at the village. Just outside of it I was met by a few men with a large blue cooler. As I approached, they opened it and offered me an ice-cold Coca Cola – for a hefty price, of course. Again I wondered at how they had managed to carry these large coolers full of ice all the way up there.
Coca-Cola is unique in Haiti, as it is in most countries outside of North America and Europe. First, it tastes better because it is made with cane sugar instead of corn syrup. Second, it comes in the classic glass bottle. The bottles aren’t new, however. They are recycled – not the type of recycling that means melting and re-casting, but recycled as in washed, refilled and re-capped. They are scratched and scuffed and murky – a visceral drink, and good. I bought one and drank it.
One of my hiking partners, a guy who had lived in Haiti for a number of years and had visited this village a few times, told me that the people there are so poor that they cant afford to buy the cokes for themselves. Instead, they buy a case and keep it cooled for when people from our organization come visit. We get refreshed, they make a few dollars – an economic symbiosis, built on aid relief and fizzy drinks.
The village itself was more like a camp. Most people lived in tents or lean-tos. It looked like many people lived without any roof at all, just a circle of blankets and belongings around a fire pit. One of the few true structures was a one room schoolhouse. As we entered, the students sang and said their ABCs, their teacher doubling as choir director and drill sergeant. They stood up, sat down, recited Bible verses. It was a grand show that even got the villagers attention – they watched from outside through the large gaps in the walls. We all applauded.
Shortly after the performance one of my teammate’s bottles of Coca-Cola made its way to the children, and the most remarkable thing happened. The first child took a sip, and then without prompt passed it to the girl on his right. She sipped and passed it to her right. And so the bottle was selflessly consumed one sip at a time, child to child. I took a picture.
I think we gave the children a lesson in English or taught them a new song, but I have no recollection of what we actually did or said. Instead, what I remember is what the children taught me about being selfless. It’s ironic that one of the first lessons we are given in school is how to share with others, and yet its so easily forgotten. Here’s hoping we can all remember that lesson now, especially as we have so much and those very children in Haiti are in such desperate need.
