Day 0
Here I am, 30,000 feet in the air, heading to Haiti. The constant roar of the airplane engines should calm me, but honestly, I feel a flutter in my stomach—a mix of nerves and excitement. It’s impossible not to feel this way when I’m about to embark on what might be the most important project of my career. In front of me, the camera I’ve taken to so many places is already on. I adjust it on the small fold-out tray and look straight into the lens. “Hello,” I say softly, more to myself than to the potential audience who might see this material someday.
- “I’m Amelia Rosales, an anthropologist, and I’m on my way to Haiti, specifically to a remote community called Montagne des Âmes, or ‘The Mountain of Souls.’ I’ve spent months securing the permissions to be here; it wasn’t easy, but I did it. For the next 30 days, I’ll live with this community, observing, learning, and documenting their spiritual traditions, which have survived almost untouched by time.”
I pause to point at a worn-out map I carry with me. There it is, a small red circle in the northern mountains of Haiti.
- “Montagne des Âmes is known for preserving ancestral rituals tied to Haitian Vodou and its connection with the Loas, the spirits of its cosmology. My goal is twofold: first, I want to understand how these practices shape the community’s identity. Second, I want to explore the role these traditions play in the social cohesion of such an isolated group.”
I fold up the map and look back at the camera.
- “I don’t know exactly what awaits me. This place is surrounded by stories; some say it’s full of mysteries and unique rituals. I don’t know if I’ll witness anything like that, but one thing is clear: I’ll respect every step I take on this path. I’m not here to judge or impose ideas, only to learn.”
I let out a sigh, as if speaking has released some of the tension I’ve been carrying. But then I remember something that makes me smile.
- “Luckily, I won’t be alone in this. A young woman named Manouchka, though everyone calls her Nouchka, will be waiting for me. She’s the bridge between her community and the outside world. She learned Creole, French, and some English through an educational program that reached the region a few years ago, and since then, she’s helped visitors like me understand her culture. I’ve been told she’s brilliant. I can’t wait to meet her.”
I glance out the airplane window into the infinite darkness. Only the blinking lights on the wings are visible. What awaits me in Montagne des Âmes? I have no idea. I turn off the camera, pack away my notebook, and let out a small sigh of anticipation. I’m about to step into an entirely new world, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll come out of it the same person.
