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Friday, January 8, 2010

My friend and his trip to Haiti

The phone ring my friend is calling to let me know is back to the US, with a bittersweet in his voice, but a pain is choking his soul and the images are haunting his mind for the misery he witness back home in Haiti. After 6 years he went back to visit the motherland it is insane to see all these brain but not even one man with a good plan to change the land. He couldn’t retain his tongue like the auction man, but with the only difference he has a lot to say but nothing to sell.

They often say a man isn’t supposed to cry, what about his soul is he suppose to let it die? He explain life in Haiti like the desert without the rain, a bird is trying to fly with it wings without the feather, and further he says he doesn’t see the future because there are too many rupture between the lecture and the lector. He proceeds to say that a miracle is possible but he hasn’t seen yet the oracle to make him change his mind. The only groups of people who apparently seem living and smiling are those who work for the dark forces and their shifts are at night to chase good dreams so nightmares can mingle in broad daylight with peaceful and honest citizen.

I wanted to cry when I hear the discouragement effect in the sound of my dear friend voice, but only with all those following conditions, if my tears could turn into a flood to wash away my brothers and sisters’ sin, if my cry and my strength could turn into a hurricane to destroy the foundation of poverty in the Haitian mentality, if my vision could turn into reality to change the destiny to a land of prosperity I would cry until I have my last tears drop and dry.

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