My First Week in Petit Trou: Ginny Scherer

In the days since returning from Haiti, I’ve found myself reflecting not on a single moment, but on a series of quiet, powerful ones.

Having previously lived and worked with community-based organizations in Belize and Laos — places with their own unique challenges and strengths — I’ve seen firsthand the importance of locally led development and investment. There is a narrative about Haiti that many of us have heard before — one that focuses on scarcity and struggle. But what I experienced in Petit Trou was something far more complex, and far more hopeful.

I saw a hospital delivering high-quality, dignified care — staffed by nurses and doctors who not only treat patients, but take the time to educate families and neighbors about their health. I spent time with students eager to learn, guided by teachers and educators investing in the next generation. I walked through gardens where agronomists are sharing knowledge about agriculture, nutrition, and sustainability with the community. I saw the work of the association’s staff supporting a wide range of community-driven programs — from the hospital garden and clean water initiatives to mental health trainings and youth activities like chess club — each one designed and led with the needs of the community in mind.

One moment that has stayed with me was watching an agronomist lead a discussion with a group of students in the garden — confident, engaging, and deeply knowledgeable. Seeing the way she connected with the students, I couldn’t help but think about what it means for young people, especially girls, to see that kind of leadership modeled so clearly.

There are hardships, of course — hunger, drought, and the broader instability affecting much of the country. But what stood out most was not what is lacking, but what is being built. There is leadership here. There is vision. There is care for one another.

As someone visiting Petit Trou for the first time, I also had the unique experience of traveling alongside longtime supporters who have been connected to this community for decades. Even after seven years without a visit, people greeted them by name in the street — sharing how long they had waited to welcome them back. The sense of community and belonging was immediate and deeply felt.

And in between it all, there was life — vibrant and full. The landscape lush and green, the sea bright and clear, voices raised in song. People busy living, working, and showing up for one another every day.

Again and again, I was reminded that the work happening in Petit Trou is not about outside solutions — it is about supporting and investing in what already exists: a strong, capable community shaping its own future.

I feel incredibly grateful to have experienced this firsthand, and I’m looking forward to sharing more in the weeks and months ahead.