Haiti: A Memoir by Christi Fordham
My feet hang over the edge of the low stone wall while I sit to get a few moments of solitude. The cool breeze hits my face and blows my hair to offer fleeting relief from the stagnant heat that plagues this Caribbean island in the month of July. I look at the stars and listen to the gentle lull of the surf. I am struck by the irony of this country unlike any other I have seen in my sixteen years. At this moment, I am experiencing the closest to paradise as I have ever been and just beyond the cliff that lines this beach is the most destitute place in the western hemisphere. My gaze travels over the moonlit waters and for the first time in my young life, I feel my own humanity as I realize I am but a small part of this earth, which is both liberating and terrifying.