Hati

Tonight I was hanging out with some friends who wanted to watch a movie. Angie said that we should watch 7 Pounds because I needed a good cry and probably hadn't had one in a while. I, perhaps taking the comment beyond its humorous intent, retorted that I had watched 7 Pounds and it hadn't made me cry the first time. And that, in addition, I had already had something of a cry earlier that very day. First of all I was told I had to have had a heart of stone to have watched such an emotional movie and not be moved to tears. Secondly, I was questioned as to what would, then, have brought me to the edge that very day. I didn't answer, but I'll try now:

It seems like cynics are easy to foster in our culture. I'm a good example. We become cynical of our governments, cynical of things we don't understand, and cynical of ourselves because we know that our society is the most successful failure we've ever seen.
Recently Canada was accused of covering up a placement of Afghan detainees that knowingly resulted in their torture. All I seemed to hear about it from Ottawa is whose job should be lost as a result and who gets to fill it once they're gone. Nothing about morals. Little about making things right. Never an apology (that i heard). "What has happened to our humanity?" one might be heard to ask. "At what point is this not a game anymore?" See, it's easy to be a cynic.
Over the past decade, those US officials responsible for pushing the war in the middle east have been accused of doing it for the oil rather than for domestic reasons. Amid conspiracy theory a population grows apathetic and stone heartened to the "propaganda" that floods their televisions. Perhaps we all are cynics.

Perhaps my heart has been cold as anyones.

but this is what happened:

I drove to victoria and back for something- i don't remember what. On the way there i saw the sign emploring everyone to donate to Hati relief. I think the dj on the local rock station was talking about it too. Everybody, it seemed, was talking about it- and trying to do something about it. Even one of my employers young daughters had just told me a day or few earlier that she was doing a bake sale.
I decided to listen to CBC 2 on the way home. The entire day on air was dedicated to Hati. There was related music and massive fundraising. It seemed like this was not simply a marketing push, the sound of its voice didn't allow for me to believe in less than genuine compassion. I was touched by the programming, but what really pushed me to the edge was, as i was still listening, i passed under an overpass on which a handful of people were waving signs to give to hati and how to do it. As I drove underneath I knew i wouldn't, for my current situation, go donate right then, but i gave the a thumbs up as i drove underneath. A communication that connected. I knew what they were doing, how important it was, and they knew that i knew and that i was right there with them in spirit. I felt a connection. I felt a belief in humanity, and among the reality that hung over this disaster I begin to cry for the gain that hati seemed to have made in our humanity. As if, even as we were helping her, that she was saving us.

Maybe if Victoria could unite, if Canada could unite. Maybe if all these nations were pouring in millions upon millions to a country that probably did nothing for them, then there was hope. Maybe there's still hope for us as people; as humans.