A work day

Why do I feel exhausted sometimes even though I am not ‘working’ that much. For example like today, I taught English for 2 hours and then spent a few hours working and communicating with family on the internet. But I feel exhausted. In the United States I can easily work a 10 hour day, so why does it seem that 10 hour day is equivalent to a 5-6 hour day in Haiti. I realized the answer to this question the other day when I was writing my brother and bel-suer (sister-in-law). I was telling them that I don’t have physical labor here but I feel emotionally drained.
Everyone around me has nothing. They have nothing to do, no jobs, few opportunities and little hope for the future. Because I have money to buy toilet paper and water and eat twice a day, I am rich. On a regular day I walk to English class and pass children wearing rags sometimes no shoes, carrying water on their heads for their families to bathe and cook. Some of the children are as young as 4 or 5. Then I see men working in the fields of their gardens and when I return at the end of the day they are still there throwing a pick ax, digging up all the land by hand. I then work with young adults who are eager to learn English in hopes that it might give them some sort of future, or some have said, ‘because I have nothing else to do, there are no jobs’.
After class I walk through the market area where an old lady from another zone, may hold out her hand in desperation hoping I give her 10 goudes (25 cents) to help her family. I walk back to my house to collect all my things, to then go down the mountain for internet on the motorcycle praying for our safety on the bumpy road that has loose rocks and parts that are washed away from the rain. Praying all the way home, as I look out over the beautiful land that God has created and wonder about the people’s lives in the little huts below and about Haiti’s future.
At the day end of the day I sit down to a wonderful meal that has been prepared for me, while the rest of the family eats plates full of rice and beans sometimes with a hunk of ‘meat’ (we would probably throw away these parts in the US – I am not sure). I feel guilty eating me chicken leg, lettuce, carrots and Kool-Aide; and yet I know other families that will not even have that plate of rice and beans. When I lay my head on my pillow in my little 8’ by 9’ foot room, I think about the people that still have to sleep in tents and those that sleep on the floor because there are not enough beds for everyone in their house. It is a hard life in Haiti, no doubt. I often wonder how the Haitians survive, but they do. They are inspiring and determined to work toward a brighter future, even when there seems to be little opportunity. I am happy to work alongside with them to find that glimmer of light and contribute what I can to help them find what they are looking for to have a better future. I just have to remind myself that the ‘work’ is not the same as in the United States and some days when I am do and visit with my neighbors it may be some of the most important work I do. And sometimes it is exhausting being faced with the harsh realities of this world on a daily basis.