My water tastes of chlorine: cholera makes that necessary. My nose can no longer endure the smell of dead meat: the earthquake has made that happen. My eyes are permanently wet; the floods make sure of that. My ears have become deaf: the elections have seen to that. 2010: A year that has left its marks on the body as much as on the soul. A year of surprises, and of some less-than-surprising things as well. A year when disabilities assumed a special place - as something that had become a reality - in the spirit of the Haitian people. A year that ends with hope, but not with pointless expectations.

Hope for change; change of perspective. For a change in society in relation to its victims, a change in people faced with the reality of disability in this country. A change of perspective, in addition - and especially - on the part of the countries that make up this beautiful planet, and who look upon this place - dear Haiti, "Ayite Chery" - with a disconcerted gaze.

I am writing this piece, the last of the year, just as I have all of the others. Here's my recipe: A shower - a very cold one. On or two (sometimes three ...) sweet coconut biscuits baked by my neighbour. The same music fills my imagination and provides me with the space I need to be able to write: Yann Tiersen, the album by Amelie Poulain. That's the only music that can be on in the room when I sit, bare, in front of the screen.

Moreover, this screen is almost as white as my toes. In the clamour of New Year's Eve, the sun outside makes fun of my buttocks that it has never seen. You have to laugh!

I'd like to make one or two resolutions for the coming year, but I prefer to put one foot in front of the other, and walk over and sit in my hammock, suspended between two clouds. I really like the unexpected, so why do something different?

There are still lots of stories I have to tell you. The story about Miss Anayiz whom I met recently. The one about Angelo and her family too. And I can't forget the comical story of my neighbour's hen, and the less funny one about the man put in prison for no reason.

I'll leave you, at this end of the year (or at the beginning of the year, since you won't read these few words until well after the celebration and the champagne!) with the words of M, house responsible at L'Arche Chantal:

It happened this way: several days before Christmas, a Sunday of sweat and celebration, the two L'Arche houses together. A time of great upheaval in the country - riots, disorder in the cities, elections. The celebratory music of the drum stops; it's time for a little talk ...

My friends, while outside people are gathering to demonstrate, to yell, to shout, to burn - we too, siting around a simple table, have gathered to demonstrate. To demonstrate and and celebrate the friendship and love that unites us with one another.

I wish you wonderful days ahead in this new year.

Peace,

J.