"HAITI ISN'T READY FOR DEMOCRACY"

That's what the Haitian lady said on the bus, the one who is from Cap Haitien but who has lived in Atlanta for 25 years. She grew up in Haiti under the Duvalier reign and reported that it was wonderful. What we hear in the US are the reports and rumors of the reign of terror of Papa Doc and Baby Doc, how they would simply kill those they thought were any sort of threat, how the voice of the people was squelched and silenced. But what she experienced was a life of peace and security, where "I could walk on any street, at any time of day, and feel safe, where we didn't lock our doors and had plenty to eat." Her view is that Haiti still needs someone to tell the people what to do, someone strong and bossy, like a dictator.

It brings up the puzzling question of who knows what is right for another, whether that Other is a child, a nation, or any group of people. We Americans believe with fervor in the superiority of democratic government, in a nation run by and for the people. It seems perfectly obvious that such a form of government is better than any sort led by a king or a tsar or a dictator. Whenever too much power rests in the hands of just one person, or a small group of people, there is the very real danger of corruption. And "enemies" often die.

But what if our Haitian friend is right? What if you have to grow into democracy, reach a certain level of self-confidence and maturity as a people before you can trust yourselves to govern your own nation? We don't give two-year-olds the same governing rights as eighteen-year-olds. Maybe nations are not much different than children.

The real question then becomes,"Who, then, should govern the nation? Who has the right to impose their own brand of "good government" on a developing country?" I am the furthest thing from a political analyst, but I can see this playing out all over the globe. I'm a fervent believer in democracy, too, but I understand the anger of some groups of people toward Americans, because we certainly look to be trying to democratize the world, to push our own values without real regard for other systems of thought. Sometimes we use guns and tanks to do it. I'm not suggesting we're wrong to try to bring something better to struggling nations. I'm just saying we can't stand there scratching our heads in perplexity when they don't welcome us with open arms.

But I digress into areas about which I am distinctly unqualified to comment. It's just that her verdict about her own home country of Haiti intriqued me and set me wondering.

What do you think?

HAITI

I know some of you are curious about my recent trip to Haiti. Sue Osborne, my longtime friend and traveling companion is blogging up a storm about it, so rather than be redundant, I'm sending you to her blog here: http://nostalgic-nana.blogspot.com/ to get a good idea of our trip. We shared my camera since Sue forgot her charger, so all the pictures she's posting are "ours".

My trip was all kinds of awesome. A curious observation: there in Haiti, with only sporadic power and water (and never hot running water, my very favorite thing), on a diet of rice and beans, sleeping in bits and fits under a mosquito net -- I was deeply happy every single moment. I don't know if it was the slower pace, the back-to-basics lifestyle, the incredible team of people working so tirelessly and selflessly for the good of others, the lush beauty of the Haitian mountain country, or getting sticky and dirty with soil and varnish and sweat and service every day -- but whatever it was, I experienced it as a gift, precious and unexpected. Misty, a volunteer student midwife from Arizona, summed it up thusly, "This has been a time of healing for me here in Haiti." Though I didn't even know I was so broken, that's exactly how Haiti felt for me.

The guidebook begins, "Haiti will capture your heart" and that, too, proved true. Poor as poor gets, with problems that span centuries, Haiti nonetheless speaks to something real and little acknowledged in our soul, some sense of deep connection -- to the earth and to each other, some inarticulate truth that settles and stays, even here at home, hidden away in our hearts. I know I'm not alone in this experience. I can't even tell how it will show up in my life; it's so foreign to my American mindset. I feel it like a latent disease, and it may in fact manifest as dis-ease, leading to action, or it may simply rest in me forever as a touchstone of truth.

Haiti has my heart, at any rate.