Wòch nan dlo pa konn doulè wòch nan solèy.

Stones in the water don’t know the pain of stones in the sun. – Haitian Proverb



Floating face down on the surface of the Caribbean sea can be a profoundly tranquil experience. Off the west coast of Haiti, I bit down on the rubber part of my snorkel and sealed my lips over the mouth piece and looked directly down into the void. The heat of the sun warmed my back (and later burned it) as I browsed through the coral reef, keeping a watchful eye for sea urchins. Sam the Frenchman swam next to me, my bearded companion and liaison to the people and culture of Haiti. He gestured at me underwater and pointed to a small white creature clinging to a leaf. I looked at it right in its squid-like face before coming up for air, waiting for an explanation. Sam told me that these critters navigate the ocean by clinging to objects like leaves, other fish, and coral. The dwarf cuttlefish – which is actually a cephalopod – makes its home on other things. As they grow, they move on to bigger objects to suit their new size. I remember hovering above the coral as soon as the thought hit me…I am just like this fish. I have finally found my spirit animal! I ferociously threw my snorkel back on to get another look, but warm water drowned my goggles and by the time I had readjusted, it was gone.

Now, I’m usually one to think deeply about simple things in life – I see a banana peel in a city gutter and wonder about the existence of the universe. I’m a thinker, an observer. I lay underneath the stars in utter awe and appreciation of the small contribution I make in the world. The fact that we seem to be cogs in this giant, cosmic machine amazes me. Anyway, my friends and family are constantly poking fun at my dramatically concocted ideas that make up my life on a daily basis. I remember taking my snorkel off and thinking that this fish represented the very definition of humanity – aren’t we all clinging to something? This little cuttlefish, 45 minutes outside of Port-au-Prince, brought together the essential “meaning of life” for me (and has no way of consciously understanding that).

We all go throughout life clinging to different things: our childhood homes, our partners, our friends and our favorite musicians. As we grow, we move onto bigger and better things until we can’t grow anymore and we die. In a country where political unrest, deforestation, droughts and earthquakes are common, the sea is thriving and surprisingly plentiful. The coral reefs are huge clusters of colonies inhabited by tiny, precious sea creatures. This particular reef was colorful and full of life, in drastic contrast to the shores it washes upon. Travelers can pay $5 for a daily resort pass to Wahoo Bay Beach & Resort , great seafood, sugary Haitian cocktails, and maybe even a nostalgic revelation. Haiti is a land of great suffering and great beauty. Its tourism, however small, is a total bargain.

This existential epiphany was later documented in my travel journal, with radical ramblings of humanity and what it all means. But I’m like that as a witness and a writer, always eager to learn from tiny moments like these.