Once a week, in the town we stay in called La Coma, there is a market. Our group is attracted to the unique items Toro (Haitian Red Bull), homemade chairs, whips, machetes, and although not for our purchase but the just slaughtered meat. Yet there are items, we don't think too much about like toothpaste and shoes. I've always wondered, why are there so many booths at market with these odd items?
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I came to Haiti with two pairs of shoes. The first pair Nike Tennis shoes: I had them for about 2 years. I knew they were on the end of their life. One thing in particular the base had started to break through, so if you push too hard the base will push away from the shoe with your foot requiring you to push the shoe back together. Before I left, I meant to get duct tape to fix them, but honestly I thought they would work just fine on the trip, so I didn't worry about duct tape. The other pair of shoes were brown sandals, humorously, referred to by my small group as "Jerusalem Sevens". They were simply a pair of leather sandals with the base starting to break & the cloth almost torn apart.
Early on in my travel to Haiti, I knew fixing those tennis shoes would have been a good idea. I had to stop many times just to push the shoes back together. Yet I still thought I could make it through.
As we arrived in La Coma, something happened that typically doesn't happen out there. It rained, rained, and rained some more. And of course, when a town like La Coma is made up of cactus, palm trees, and dirt, the walking surface becomes unbearably muddy. Within that first day's storm both my shoes and sandals were covered in mud. Entering and leaving the church, we had take off our shoes to avoid tracking the mud all over the concrete. Those sandals were gone very quickly. One shoe I couldn't find, but the one looked so bad & covered in so much mud, I just felt it wasn't worth finding the other anyway.
So I was down to the shoes and it was Tuesday the aforementioned market day. In Haiti, the children are very demanding of the attention of the Americans. Since life is tough for their parents, the kids cannot expect many piggy back rides, hugs, hand holding, etc. Thus, I was walking with one the Haitian children on my back as common practice. As my journey through the mud got immediately tougher, I learned quickly my mistake. As I maneuvered through the mud with extra weight on my shoulders, I quickly lost my footing and slowly fell into the mud knees first. The first reaction is the Haitian boy screaming and sliding away, this sounds dramatic and it really wasn't, like any kid who's on his way to becoming a teenager or already one, there reaction to everything is dramatic. The second reaction is the laughter of my group as they noted my shorts, legs, and hands were covered in mud. There's pictures out there, but luckily they haven't been posted yet, so dang it, I cannot share it you (sarcasm).
We quickly made a beeline to the market. Sitting in the middle of the market were 30+ pairs of shoes. I quickly took my muddy & destroyed shoes off and handed them to translator to never be seen again. (I honestly don't know where those shoes went were they trashed or reused? I'll never know). The first pair of shoes I tried on were pair of blue sandals. They probably look more like woman's shoes as pictured below. The Haitian woman, this poor woman, slid plastic bags on my feet to help guide the sandals. As she struggled to complete this task, I easily knocked her in the head a complete of times. The shoes were tight, they weren't comfortable, but I desperately needed a pair, so I decided to deal with it. I found out the cost was $3.00, the lady pointed out the mud on her shirt from my foot, but I quickly paid in disappeared. Honestly, I wanted to hand her a $20 bill, but I have learned long before that overpaying in Haiti, although honorable, only causes more issues later.
Another interesting storyline, as I walked through the market, I also regrettably became a main attraction Haitians were laughing & pointing at the big white man with the muddy legs and shorts. I knew at this stage I could do one of two things: hide my head in shame or embrace the moment. When in Haiti and miles away from anyone you know, I embraced the moment by waving & smiling at any laughing Haitian. For someone who takes life so seriously, I was shocked how much relief and joy comes by being able to laugh at yourself and just move on.
Anyway, it was those shoes I wore home. It was those shoes were the back broke the second time I tried them on (to the amusement of the others, but to me it was more comfortable). It was those shoes that started to form 10 to 15 blisters. It was those shoes that I decided not to wear on the soccer field, in the church, on cement, etc, because I couldn't stand the pain of the shoes on the blisters. And those shoes will be the pair I where to church this coming Sunday night.
It was those shoes that changed my perspective. It is one thing to feel sympathetic for the plight of the Haitians. It is another thing to respect their plight of surviving and carrying on without quality shoes when their American guests are better equipped. However, for me, I learned something different. This challenge was literally the teaching "you cannot understand another person until you walk a mile in his shoes." I can sympathize or respect the Haitians all I want from my own sight, but it is a totally different experience to live through it. And so, Tavis, you ask, "What did you learn?" Don't take life so seriously. Don't get wrapped up in who has what and who doesn't have that. And just keep living and moving on, because God provides you with everything you need.
Philippians 4
12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
