Broken bottles on the top of a wall, used for security.
Yesterday at lunch, a colleague who wasn't here in Haiti when the earthquake happened was asking me questions about my memories of that day. I was surprised how emotional I felt as I answered; I have told these stories so many times by now that I would think the tears would be over, but they aren't, not completely. She wanted to know whether the anniversary was an especially tough day, and did I think that it would be better if it were a holiday. The answers to that are yes, and I'm not sure. The anniversary is difficult. At first, the twelfth of every month was difficult, but now I don't think about the earthquake all the time any more. But should January 12th be a holiday every year the way it was for the first few? It will never been an ordinary day to me, and it is hard to work. I cried several times during the day. But even being at work yesterday, I found myself sucked into social media, and getting involved in looking at everyone's photos and reading everyone's reminiscences. If I'd stayed home all day, that would have been intensified even more. Maybe the best way to honor those who died is to go on, to live the lives they aren't able to, to have a normal day.
Someone's champagne bottle on the road
The banner says, in French, "Haitian Coalition of Volunteers."