Personal Narrative: The Trip To Haiti

This coming winter, I will be traveling to the southernmost country of the Caribbean, Trinidad and Tobago, to provide service for a local community with the desire to achieve the common good. As a proud Villanovan, I believe my service in Trinidad will illustrate my desire to continue serving others, even with high risks. For instance, the last service break trip I had been on was a trip to the poorest country in the western hemisphere, Haiti. My teammates and I were set on a journey to physically build a school for a local village people so that they can be educated. At the end of the trip, I was stopped by the airport security, reason being that I was holding a Chinese passport and did not possess the proper documents to return to the United States. By then, my teammates had already boarded the plane and left the airport, leaving only me and my team leader.

Diverse individuals with distinctive stories apply for school each year. Some with stand-out encounters, others an ability that separate them from others. Be that as it may, for me my experience, culture and trials are what decide my uniqueness. Conceived from the poorest nation in the western hemisphere, Haiti where I lived with my persevering mother (after the death of my dad when I was 10 months) providing for us through her little business. Until the overwhelming quake that struck my nation in 2010. This disastrous occasion changed my viewpoint in life. I left my past life alongside my mom in Haiti. I packed material possessions alongside the adventures and memories that I experienced throughout the years and went to a foreign nation to close relatives. I went to

Haiti was once the first black independent republic in the world and the richest island in the Caribbean. Today Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere and one of the poorest countries in the world. What could have happened to Haiti in almost two hundred years of history? The country experienced repeated civil war and foreign intervention. Haiti is not isolated from the international world. Thus, it was not out of concern for ordinary Haitians that the United States intervened in Haiti. It was out of concern for profit and stability within the United States' own backyard. The purpose of this paper is to show the negative aspect that the United States had played in the government of Haiti.

Groggily stumbling into the kitchen, I was met with nine pairs of eyes reminding me I wasn’t in America anymore. Eleven days ago, my team and I had flown into Port-au-Prince and driven to Jacmel, directed by Angel Wings International, a local organization that worked to deliver healthcare in Haiti. I received the run-down for the day: we were heading West toward a rural clinic located in Baie d’Orange. Climbing into a musty truck bed, I noticed a crew of dentists, doctors, and pharmacists accompanying us, signifying the most important day in our three-week-long trip. The truck revved into action, racing in Jacmel’s dusty streets, past the swelling river, through winding mountain passes, stopping at a tattered USAID tent that covered a burgeoning crowd of hundreds. Scanning the crowd returned the gaze of scared men, women, and children whose lives could be drastically changed through proper checkups and treatment.

While I was growing up in Haiti with a happy family. I was a happy child, bad at home but I was a smart girl in school. My family was there for me when I need them, whether in a bad or good situation, they never let me go. Also, my family always found a way to keep a big smile in my face. They always knew what was wrong and right when I maked a bad decision. One day, all the happiness went away. My life became harder, I was scared, and sad. On March 20, 2005, I thought I was going to die. I became ill and had malaria symptoms. I missed school for two months. I could not sleep, eat or enjoy my childhood. The only thing I was able to do was stay in bed all day. It was good that I did not have to do my chores, but I realized it was boring and

For as long as I can remember, society has condemned me for not fitting into their depiction of normality. The reasoning behind this is that I am not a born American citizen. As my parents, I was born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, surrounded by others of the same color. The community I lived in was a highly supportive of one another despite their faults. Acceptance is a large section of the community's approach to any and all situations. Though the community optimistic, the reality was a cold shower my parents had to accept. Despite the positives the Haitian community provided us, we moved to America for a foundation for my future. My parents knew as a female in Haiti, it would be difficult for me to progress into something great. By moving, I was given a new chance to help my progression into something great.

It affected 3,000,000 people, left 1,000,000 homeless, injured 250,000 people, and took the precious lives of 170,000 innocent victims. The reason for such a disaster may never be fully understood, but other conclusions can be made by analyzing the information that we are able to attain. These victims of Haiti are in need of help, and will be for a long time. The victims of the earthquake in Haiti are dealing with several catastrophic effects including physical damage and economic troubles; however, they are also benefiting from one positive effect: the help from the world around them, coming together to as one to assist those in need.

In my life I have written essay papers, reading responses, journals, and other things that my teachers required of me. However, personally the best thing that I have written was a journal of my experience when I went to Haiti when I was 16. The reason that this journal is the best thing I have written because it’s my personal experience that I had in an unknown place that I had a chance to keep a memory of it in writing about what I saw and the people I met along the way.

Over this past summer, I went on a mission trip to Haiti that affected me more than I ever could have thought. Yes it was filled with a lot of hard work, but I would rather go back than relive any of my past vacations. My team and I had to pour concrete and tile two complete rooms as well as carry over eight hundred concrete blocks upstairs and onto the roof. All of this work was spread out over the course of four days; it wasn’t bad at all. The majority of the work that was being done wasn’t physical labor, but mental instead.

After the coup d' etat, thousands upon thousands of Haitians set forth on a long journey with hopes of seeking refuge in the United States, "the land of opportunity", via Florida.

My excitement level was through the roof and I could not wait to help the Haitians because I believed that the only way to reduce the poverty of Haiti was by helping and giving. So I poured cement, cut aluminum and steel, and placed gravel alongside the Haitians; let me repeat that – alongside the Haitians. Finally, I was able to take to the streets and see where the Haitians live. The streets reeked of garbage and dirt, the houses were the size of my kitchen, and all I could hear was voices. The families were welcoming even though they had nothing to give us. We received the only chair in the house, water, or some delicious Haitian food. Visiting the Haitian homes was eye-opening because I saw how their faces gleamed when we arrived and how content the Haitians were with their living situations, once again – the Haitians were satisfied with their living situations. Those repeated phrases are so important because weeks later I realized how capable and happy the Haitians actually are; they do not need our help to pour cement or fix where they

I see myself in my parents arms as a baby. I gaze up into their joyous eyes. Then I scream and scream for milk. The joyous look is gone and they look tired and sleep deprived. I cry and cry until I get my milk. Right as the bottle enters my mouth, the vision fades away.

A few years ago, I was looking a place for vacations in Colombia. I selected Santa Marta, a city in the Caribbean coast and my relatives recommend me Decameron Galeón, an awesome resort next to the beach with a lot of services. The resort has single and double suites with twin or queen-size beds. You can find different facilities like Wi-Fi, cable TV, air conditioner, iron, beach umbrellas, wake up service and safe box. Free airport shuttle is really important because the resort is about 10 minutes from the city. The gardens are beautiful and surround some places like restaurants, pools, bars and a tennis court. The resort has services like clubs, gym, boutique and meeting room. Decameron has “all included” plans and you can find prices since 787000 Colombian pesos for 2 nights per person in low season.

Sarah replies, without averting eye contact in front of the road, “Probably… an old witch that will throw us in her oven when given the chance, and far from being sugar and spice and everything nice.”

“Concrete walls quivered like Jello. Dirt floors rippled like water. I felt the house dancing around me. I didn’t know if I was up or down,” said Emanuel Buso who was trapped under a building in Haiti for 10 days before his rescue (CBN News, 2010). Houses collapsed and buildings crumbled, leaving devastation and homelessness across the poor island nation. Just eight months earlier at a robotics competition in Atlanta, I had met six exuberant students from Haiti. At the time, I knew very little about earthquakes, and never imagined that such a disaster could ever happen in their country.