The family has set up camp in my brother’s house. I live just next door, but it makes us feel better to be all in the same house. My brother, a novelist, is writing his articles; I am writing mine. From time to time a tremor will make us pause and run back outside, just in case, to be safe. I wonder how long we will have to be so cautious, and I long for normalcy.

 

全家人都住到我弟的屋子里了。虽然我本来就住他隔壁,现在整家人住到同一间屋子里,感觉更好。我弟是个小说家,他正在写文章,我也在写我的文章。不时,一阵震动会使我们赶忙放下手头上的事,为安全起见,跑到屋外,以防万一。我想知道如此提心吊胆小心谨慎地过日子还要持续多久,我渴望过正常的生活。

 

 

We sleep. We listen to the radio. We exchange information. Mostly, we have been trying to stay alive and sane since that Tuesday afternoon a week ago when the earthquake changed our lives forever. It doesn’t help that the earth continues to convulse. Just this morning, we felt another tremor, the most violent since the earthquake itself. Let us hope it did not cause more deaths and damage.

 

我们睡觉,听广播,交换信息,但最主要的还是努力求生和保持理智,因为一周前的那个周二下午,一场地震永远改变了我们的生活。而余震不断,更是雪上加霜。就在今早,我们又遭遇了那场地震后最猛烈的一次余震,我们只能期盼这次余震不要导致更多的人命伤亡,不要造成更大的破坏。

I do not recognize the streets of Port-au-Prince. In front of what used to be a school, three corpses are covered demurely by a blue sheet. Feet and eyes carefully avoid the small cadavers. A few miles down, the Sacré-Coeur church, where the upper-middle class used to be baptized, married, and buried, is a big pile of rubbish.

我都认不出Port-au-Prince街道了。在曾是一所学校的校址前,三具尸体被整齐地盖在一块蓝布之下。大家的脚和视线都小心地避开那些小小的尸体。几英里以外的那所Sacré-Coeur教堂——中上阶层的人过去常在那接受洗礼,举行婚礼或葬礼——现在只剩下一片断壁残垣。

 

 

Under the broken glass and bricks of the five-story Caribbean Supermarket—which carried the most varied imported products and where foreigners were most likely to meet one another—women, men, and children lie trapped, given up for dead. On Monday, rescuers managed to free from the site a young woman who was still alive. That same day, a grief-stricken family identified the body of a 27-year-old mother of a 6-month-old girl who was not so lucky.

 

在那栋五层楼高的“加勒比海超市”——这里的进口商品最多样,且外国人大多喜欢选择在此与他人相会——男女老少被压在破碎的玻璃和砖块之下,搜救无望。周一,救援人员在那成功救出了一个仍生还着的年轻女子。同一天,有人没那么幸运了,一个悲伤欲绝的家庭在那里确认了一具27岁女人的尸体,她是一名六个月大女婴的母亲。

In the evening, the digging for bodies ceases, as does the search for drinking water and food, for news about missing parents and friends. Tired, terrified of the dark and its dreams of tremors, of the morning and its bad news, secretly—or not—relieved to be alive, we try to sleep.

晚上,挖掘被困人员及尸体的工作停下了,搜寻饮用水、食物、失踪父母及朋友讯息的工作也停下了。疲惫,恐惧黑夜及有关余震的梦魇,恐惧清晨及在清晨将获悉的坏消息,暗自或公开庆幸自己还活着,在这种状况下,我们努力入睡。

In the background, the few radio stations that can still broadcast convey the messages of agonized families and friends. A father comes all the way from a little village in the south of Haiti looking for his two daughters. Although his voice is breaking, he manages to enunciate their names and please could somebody, anybody tell him if they are alive? The newscaster quickly repeats the message and introduces someone else. There are so many of them, a litany of desperate voices.

少数仍能运作的广播电台四处播送着那些极度痛苦的家人朋友发来的信息。一位父亲从海地南部一个小乡村远道而来寻找他的两个女儿。尽管他的声音已变嘶哑,他仍清楚地念出了她们的名字,请求有人能告诉他,女儿是否还活着。新闻广播员快速复述了这条信息,并继续播送其他人的信息。焦急寻人的民众如此多,一连串播出的都是伤心欲绝的声音。

 

 

Night settles. The stars provide the only light; the electricity has not been restored. We save the energy from our Inverter generator system to run the Internet, so we can stay in contact with friends and family. The telephone lines are unreliable.

 

夜幕降临,因电力尚未恢复,星星是唯一的光源。我们从变频发电系统那省下电来连通网络,这样我们就能和家人朋友们保持联系。电话线路不太稳定。

But we Haitians are nevertheless connected, regardless of our social conditions, our economic status, our religious beliefs, if only because we share the same uncertainties, the same fears about the monstrous size of the task at hand.

尽管如此,我们海地人还是团结联系在一起了,不分社会地位、经济地位以及宗教信仰,也许就是因为我们面对这同一“未知数”,庞大严峻的任务摆在眼前,我们有着同一恐惧。

Although the earthquake does remind us of our common and fragile destiny, the fact that the earth trembles and destroys with equal brutality luxurious and shabby houses, small and huge enterprises does not obscure the inequalities that divide Haiti. Social and economic disparities, the unjust distribution of our resources, and the dire poverty of the majority of the population cannot magically evaporate with the dust. But maybe this disaster will constitute a new beginning. Maybe the reconstruction effort that is now so urgent will also work to narrow the gaps between us.

尽管地震的确提醒了我们,生命殊途同归,平凡而脆弱,房子无论奢华破旧,企业无论大小强弱,均被地震残酷摧毁,同样惨不忍睹,但这并未模糊海地国内人民之间的不平等。社会地位、经济地位的不平等,资源分配的不平等以及大部分人生活在赤贫中这些事实不会神奇地随尘埃蒸发。但也许这场灾难将带来一个新的开始。也许目前如此紧急的重建工作也将缩小海地人民之间的各方面差距。

It is with a sense of warmth that I think of all the messages of solidarity I have received from around the world. Like most Haitians, I marvel at the signs of humanity—fund-raisers, simple letters of sympathy, offers of help: “Just tell me what you need!” But it is our government’s responsibility to help those most in need.

想到我从世界各地收到的所有团结的信息,我感到温馨。像大多海地人一样,我为大家人性关怀的表现而赞叹——筹款活动,只言片语传递关怀,提供帮助:“只要告诉我你们需要什么就行了!”但帮助大多处在危难中的人是我们政府的职责所在。

I am focusing now on what is essential in life: love and friendship. Like most people here, I am not watching the news. We have limited power. And anyway, it seems futile and even absurd to be a spectator of my own life, especially when the TV images highlight only the misery of our country. Many of us Haitians are offended by the coverage of the earthquake. Once more, a natural disaster serves as an occasion to showcase the impoverishment, to exaggerate the scenes of violence that are common to any catastrophe of this type.

现在,我关注的是生命最基本的要素——爱和友谊。像这里的大多数人一样,我不看新闻。我们的电力有限。而且,怎么说,做自己生命的旁观者似乎毫无意义,甚至可笑,特别是当电视里的报导只一味强调我们国家的痛苦时。我们这些海地人,大多都对关于这场地震的报导感到恼火。又一次,一场自然灾害被用作一次机会来展示当地的贫苦,夸大同类大灾难下普遍会有的暴力场面。

No, I am not watching the news. I am too busy trying to find a way to keep my hope alive because the work in front of us is humongous. I am busy rejoicing in the laughter of the children in the camp near our house, smiling at the comical reactions of a passer-by after a recent aftershock. I am busy shedding tears at the news of a miraculous rescue of six students from the wreckage of a university building. I am busy collecting the fragments of life that reflect the enormous courage and resilience among us.

不,我不看新闻。我太忙了,忙着寻找一种途径保持心中的希望,因为我们眼前的工作太庞大了;忙着欣喜地沉浸在我们屋子附近那些营地里的孩子的笑声中;忙着笑那个路人在刚发生的余震中的滑稽反应;忙着为六个学生奇迹般地被从一栋大学楼房废墟中救出来的消息而感动得落泪;忙着收集反映我们海地人民巨大勇气及生命韧力的片段。

I am busy loving life and my country.

我忙着热爱生命,热爱我的祖国。