From Belair to Peguiville, Day in Pictures

      From Belair to Peguiville, the cries are the same. Give us food. Give us water. We need help. And while there are those who rightfully tell me "se pa foto nou bezwen, se manje" ("it's not pictures we need, it's food"), others are happy to watch me snap snap snap away, knowing very well that my pictures could never rightfully convey their thoughts, their feelings, their everyday struggles.

c'etait le temps d'avant

      I, along with many others of my generation, grew up listening to our parents tell us about Haiti "in the days." Haiti was beautiful, Haiti was safe. I've listened countless times, filled with envy, about being able to walk in the streets, driving to the beach at any time of day, the good life in the provinces. I couldn't help but wonder if this was all just a figment of their imaginations. When did this paradise island become the place I lived in? The one where it was not safe to walk the streets, where nightime meant crime, and where poverty reigned? When was the tipping point?

   And is this the new tipping point?The point from which it all goes downhill, turning this extreme and dire situation into what is 'normal'? Will I be telling my kids about the 'good ol' days' when not everyone was homeless, when at least some people still had  food, when Haiti was on its way to a better future?