Embracing the Night
By: Rose-Ingrid Gracia
Tags: Life, Life Lessons, Inspiration, Poetry, Haiti

Embracing the Night

What less than a week in Haiti has taught me about darkness.

Growing up, we were taught to fear the dark. Darkness was the place of nightmares; witches, warlocks, werewolves and their ilk lurking in the shadows of our minds waiting for their unsuspecting victims. Night lights were installed and lamps were lit so as to stave off night time’s fury.

As we grew older, darkness became more real, more sinister. Dark alleys were to be avoided for fear of assault. Dark skin was alleviated with soaps and lotions. We even hid from the sun so as to not be baptised by her rays for fear that darkness would overcome our skin. Yet daily the mirror betrayed our fears.

Daily, our kin betrayed our fears.

Growing up in what they call the developed world, the war against the dark was everywhere. When the sun sets we are taught to fight nature’s sleep. Streets are lit, overshadowing the moonlight and the stars. We turn on our lamps and install fixtures to prolong the day. Circumventing nature’s rhythms by the power of light. Turning night into day, and day into night. Walking in the ways of gods. Declaring light and calling it good as we fall asleep at sun break.



As I walked around last night, my training kicked into full gear. The night is evil, I was taught. Be vigilant, be aware. But as I looked around, no one shared my apprehension. Children laughed, danced and ran without supervision. The dark-faced men who walked beside me, barely noticed me, at least not in the way I was conditioned to think. Their darkness no more of a threat than the boogie man of my childhood. I nod, say bonswa, and continue on my way. Tucking away the slight shame I felt for how I chose to see my brother.

All these years of fear and precautions didn’t prepare me for the streets of Léogâne.

Here, the light of day with all its riches brings along its heat. The chalè, as they call it, carries with it the weighty burden to stop.

Pause.

Take your time.

Here, there’s no rushing in the day.

Pacing is for fools, and your three piece suit and pretty loafers will do you no good unless you plan to sweat your life away.

No, here slow and steady wins the race.

As dusk makes it’s way across the mountainous sky, lights don’t flicker left and right as it does in the homes of the wealthy.

No, here they don’t scurry to fight the night.

What to some may seem like a loss in the war against darkness, I have come to realise is actually the victory that eludes us.

They do not fear the night here. Here, they bask in her glory.

For in the darkness, the town comes to life. Motos whiz through the streets, blaring music as the go on their way.

Neighbours stop by for visits.

Families sit out on their porches, laughing and drinking in each other’s company.

Women and children walk down darkened streets.

None of them walk with fear in their eyes.

Here, the night brings relief, delight, and life.

Here, darkness is not the enemy. He is a lover, a companion, a friend.

Have we really won this war?

We, the civilised, as we spend our nights fighting against nature, unwilling to let die what God has already called to an end.

Have we really gained more?

In turning our nights into days, our work never ends.

Nature’s call to rest, sit, share, and pray gets ignored for the call of productivity.

What if we were to simply let night fall?

What if we sat in darkened rooms and faced our nights?

What if we sat with those we loved, shared of our plights, and embraced our fears rather than hide in the light?

Maybe we aren’t the developed ones.

Maybe we are stunted, deceived.

Thinking that we’re free, without having struggled with our shadows.

Maybe we have more than a few things to learn from those in the dark.