Thursday, June 3, 2010

Speaking Engagement

On Tuesday evening, I headed off to speak with local business and education leaders in Haiti. My father's friend, Edouard Lafontant set up the speaking engagement.

I was picked up at 2pm at my hotel in Petionville and we drove toward the road leading to Montaigne Noir, the road I used to take home everyday. It was as I remembered, narrow streets and high walls surrounding the homes. We drove up a steep driveway to a home situated on a hill. The bright orange colors of the patio jumped at me. I was a bit nervous. What would I tell them that they already didn't know?

The topic was rebuilding Haiti with Haitian eyes. By that I mean, trying to understand and point toward a vision, a Haitian vision, of Haiti that builds on her assets vs. focusing on the overwhelming needs. In other words, what does Haiti have to offer to the world. What might be her competitive edge, what are her strengths, and what already works in Haiti that we might be able to harness and build upon? Once we have a clear sense, a clear vision of Haiti and what we want her to be, I suggested we might be better able to lead the charge in that direction. We might be able to better determine what will work in Haiti and what won't.

After the talk, Edouard Lafontant spoke about the importance of leadership, what it means and how to build it. How it's important to build capacity in the leaders by instilling in him the idea that great leaders lead others to greatness in such a way that they don't know that they have been led.

The discussion after the talk was insightful, lively and engaging. We discussed how to do everything at the same time, we discussed some frustrations and we thought about what works in Haiti and what doesn't. We also talked about how MIT might contribute.

At the end of the talk, I felt charged and refreshed. I felt the doors begin to open, especially the doors to a group of strong women who attended the discussion. Lots to do.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Reunion with Anne Marie -- raw writing

Anne Marie

She was standing at the corner, she looked at me. We locked eyes. It was she. The emotions came, the crying almost wailing and I couldn’t stop them. She was alive, she had her arms, she had her legs, her smile, and we embraced, I kissed her and the love flowed, I couldn’t stop it. So many days wondering and wondering, if she were alive and there she was, there she was. She says she lives in a house and she is safe. Then she tells me her daughter, Jeanette, lives in the tent across the street. There's more, but I can't translate it into words right now. Maybe later...

Off to Jeanette's tent. Anne Marie takes my arm, Joy, my best friend, follows and we walk. We cross the street, not an easy feet. We cross the small street and we are headed to Jeanette’s place – a tent across the street. I’m nervous, what will I see, what will I hear, will it be dangerous, will it be clean, will I get a disease?

The walk way is mud and there are women sitting. I say hello to all. Three boys follow me and they say “I love you.” I turned to them and I looked them in the eyes. I said “I love you too,” and I meant it. They stopped following us.

The tent was clean and neat. A rug on the ground – a luxury. Two single beds with clean sheets. I’m invited to sit down. I’m invited to talk. I’m invited to their private world. We talk about my family. All of the children, uncles, aunts and children of children. I ask about the private relms of my family. Why don’t some people not like others? Why, why, why? She answers me as best she can. I just expect her to know what I want to know, and to know how to explain it all as fast as possible. It is impossible. We talk and talk. A women washes near by. I cry and they hand me a towel and it is white and pristine. It is cleaner than what I might find in the finest hotel. The white towel, the mud outside, the clean tent, sheets and rug. Why didn’t I take off my shoes before walking on their rug…

Later that night I wake up in my bed at 1am. I can't sleep. Jeanette lives in a tent no more than 50 feet from my hotel room. We used to sleep in the same house, now I'm the only one in a house.