The situation detailed in The Big Truck That Went By makes me think about the ways in which I thought about Haiti prior to situations like this (more so, for me personally, it was prior to living in a majority Haitian/Caribbean neighborhood in Brooklyn). prior to those experiences and the people I came to know as friends and close co-workers, was that of all-around devastation; a black hole of suffering. every time Haiti was on the news, it was in reference to some horrible situation and the only time it was spoken of in school was in reference to the Haitian revolution. I didn't even know about the U.S. occupation there until maybe 3 or 4 years ago, reading it in a course here at the university. The more i learned about Haiti, largely through my friends and co-workers, was one of much more....relevance; familiarity. now i could put faces and names onto people and imagine that those i saw on television were my coworkers in their younger years, were their cousins, children, and parents. around the time that i was living there, i also began to learn much more about Haitian Vodun. a Black feminist organization i was a member of had co-founders from Haiti and for one of the events we hosted, it was a Haitian day festival in honor of its independence say (i believe). the spirituality that she invoked and incorporated (visually, verbally, etc.) in my dealings with her really showed me how beautiful and complex of a spirituality it is. all that changes how i viewed Haiti.
i can recall (maybe around this time) hearing someone say that Haiti was the first independent Black nation in the Americas, and that it has been paying for it ever since; meaning that for such a defeat for Black people comes with it unimaginable suffering because of global racism, colonialism, and exploitative business practices. and it certainly seems to be the case. on a spiritual level, i've heard some say that (as Elizabeth mentioned in class) that the improper burials that have been forced to happen (mass graves, no funeral, mutilation and dismemberment of bodies, spiritual ceremonies and rites that don't take place, etc.) due to corruption (large numbers of murders, assassinations, mass shootings) or natural disasters has made Haiti a place that is spiritually unbalanced. i'm learning more, at the present time, about the concept of the Vodun god known as Damballah Hwedo, which is a serpent god that represents ancestors whom are not known by name. it is also symbolic in the US and throughout the diaspora as representation of those lost during the middle passage and the general trauma of enslavement. i think (for Haitians) it's important to look into those types of healing spiritual cosmologies and beliefs to help restore Haiti and Haitians and their well-being - be that spiritual or other. it may even be argued that this concept was elevated to a high level of importance (coming from African traditions) after enslavement and such traumatic experiences.
This is also related to the article: "Suffering and Structural Violence". the article makes me think about the ways in which suffering, for long durations of time (for Haitians, it's scarcely been a calm and stable time since Africans were brought to the island) and how it's difficult to even fathom, really. in this video (around 6:10), J. Lorand Matory, a professor at Duke who studies African diaspora religions/spirituality makes sense of the idea that Haitians are untrustworthy or, by some accounts, even paranoid (in reference to political bodies, the west, governmental structures, and society in general, even their own and in reference to Haitian Vodun). suffering produces emotional scars that are sometimes irreparable. when there's atrocity after atrocity after atrocity, how does one even live? and if someone who lives through such an ordeal, how do they come to terms when their life becomes stable and healthy and more than just survival? it's difficult to even think about.
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