Most of the time, I am a wedding photographer in Switzerland, my home country. When I moved to Haiti, six years ago, I was naturally drawn to what I know best: this mix of anxiety and euphoria which is a universal prelude to the eternal vows of love.
I have been to several cities and in the countryside. I have traveled by all means: boat, motorbike, truck, and even donkey. I invited myself to all kinds of weddings. Some have been in rural areas, while others in sugar-coated palaces in the nice surroundings of Port-au-Prince or slums. In many weddings, one sees what is left of the Haitian middle class, who rent party halls, as a sign of hope and belief in a brighter future.
More than 10 years after the earthquake that completely destroyed the country on January 12th, 2010, I realized how much a wedding is offering an extraordinary window to traditions, the Americanization of the island, the extreme social divide, and daily resistance.
When two human beings decide to commit for life in a country that’s considered the extension of hell, you can just sit and wonder. What I know about Haiti, I didn’t learn through political debates or in health centers curing Cholera. I learned it in magical surroundings of glitters and symbols, where two people choose to say yes. For worse. For better.