Home.

Back home now. There was some confusion in the morning Thursday that had us waiting for our pilot for 4 hours at the Les Cayes Airport. It's the same in many tropical places - island time! Our trusty old jalopy of a Cessna carried us through the green mountains north of Les Cayes and out over the Caribbean. I was so sad to leave so much suffering behind. Sad I couldn't do more, sad to leave the few friends I had made. There's so much to do there, so much. I felt selfish about wanting some vietnamese soup, a bigger seat on the airplane, and a long, long, long shower. Guilt creeps in a little around the corners - but I have to remember the standard is so different in the US. We all do what we can. I paid what I am sure is a year's salary in Haiti for a sooner ride home. Got home at noon on Friday - tired, but running on adrenaline and the excitement of being home.

Everyone asks me "How was Haiti?" At first, I said "Great!" and kept a positive attitude about things. As Friday wore on, I started feeling a little worse, a little overwhelmed and got more honest about it.

"Interesting."

"Nuts."

"Intense."

I tell the stories about the things I saw- the maggot-infested leg, the amputations, the lack of care, medicine, supplies, organization. The people I met - the thankful teenagers, the singing man, the surgeons both Haitian and foreign doing all they could. The frustrations we all had.

I don't tell enough, though the things I learned. I learned some about myself and I strengthened my faith in the inherent goodness of the human spirit. Most of all though, I was reminded that the only thing that matters in life is relationships. I am convinced that if there ever is a Judgement Day, we will not be judged on the merit of our actions, the purity of our intentions, or certainly not the size of our cars or houses. In the end, the only thing that really matters is love. I believe that if there is ever a judgement to be made, it will be based on the love that we give and the love we receive.

Each of us exists tenuously. Some of us are lulled more than others into a mistaken sense of invincibility or immortality and this breeds irresponsibility. Everything you have could be taken from you in a moment by a car wreck, a gunshot, an earthquake, a hurricane... And what will you have left? What do you have that cannot be taken from you but the love of your family and friends? What thing in your house, what shiny possession or green dollar bill or job achievement will carry you through the darkest, loneliest times in your life? The people I met in Haiti have nothing but the clothes on their backs, but they smile and sing anyway because they still have love. They have eachother.

There is so much that drives us apart - our cell phones, computers (the one I'm typing on...) transactions, closed-up cars and fences that get in the way of real human interaction. One of the 10 principles of Burningman is decommodification - "resisting the substitution of consumption for participatory experience." (www.burningman.com)

/soapbox

I could preach forever, but I'm not here to criticize or give some sermon on how we need to change the world and tell you the American way of life is bad and all that.

It's just that I got a big reminder to keep the people in my life close to my heart, and let them know how much I love them because at the end of the day, they are all I have ever had, or ever will have.