What time is it anyway?

Daylight savings time began yesterday. Our mini team had a 5:30am flight from Minneapolis, final destination Port au Prince.  “Real time” of our departure was 4:30.

My alarm was set for 1:30 and I watched with amusement as my phone time changed from 1:59 to 3 am at the precise hour.

Did you know that the only coffee available at MSP at 4am is McDonald’s?

So our day was run on exact time. Boarding, departure, arrivals, connections. It was predictable…like clockwork.

But clocks march to a different drummer in Haiti.

Our team had been awake for way too many hours by the time 6pm dinner rolled around. My stomach thought it was at least 8pm. But dinner was not ready and the table was not set. Isn’t it 6pm, we asked? The world clock on my phone says that it is 6pm in Haiti. The Digicel cellular network says it is 6pm.

Our host explained. The world clock says it’s 6pm, but Haitians say it is 5pm. They tried daylight savings time in the past and didn’t like it. So they are going with 5pm, world clock be damned.

Huh?

I honestly have no idea what time to show up at the airport for departure.

There is something maddening and charming about this. Maddening in that my American brain can’t wrap my head around it. My phone and the wall clocks refuse to sync.

But on the other hand, it speaks to me of Haitian resilience and independence. You need some national attitude to overthrow Colonial rulers and become the first black republic, international sanctions be damned. You need attitude to endure decades of occupations and sketchy leadership and not lose a sense of cultural pride. You need national attitude to hear over and over and over again that you live in ‘the poorest country in the Western hemisphere’ and not let that stop you from praising God for your blessings, from finding joy in life, and from blowing off the world clock.

God bless Haiti.

Peace,

Joyce