Acclimating

As I step out of my hot shower, with acceptable water pressure, pass my window unit AC to go brush my teeth in the sink, where I can run the tap water right over my toothbrush, and rinse with water from the faucet, then climb into my comfortable bed without securing a bug net, check my iphone for any last emails and/or text messages and finally drift off to sleep in the safety and comfort of my college dorm on this safe college campus, it is hard to remember that these things that are so second nature to us, so many people go without. I think something that I have struggled with since being back, is the feeling of guilt. But oddly, probably not in the sense that you think I mean. There is a sense of guilt I have, for not feeling guiltier about the things I have, if that makes any sense. I still enjoy keeping in constant contact with my friends and family through the use of my phone and laptop, I still love the option of having a full closet of clothes I get to pick through each day when I decide what I want to wear; I don’t feel “disgusted” that I own a lot of things or have so much excess. Though I feel like I should feel that way after coming back from an eye opening experience in an impoverished country.

On the last night we were in Cap Haitian, during reflection, we were each told to think of one thing we took away from the trip that we could tell people when they asked. For me, it was that one of the greatest forms of aid anybody can give is through the transfer of knowledge. We know things that they don’t know, that would benefit them in the long run. If a plumber comes to install plumbing in a house as his service work- that is great, but what happens when it needs a repair? Instead of putting in manual effort, we shared our knowledge about business plans, lesson plans, and sexual education. These are things that we don’t need to physically be there for, for them to continue to use what we taught them. They can still use that knowledge when we are gone.

I look forward to our team’s “reorientation” process, to hear the thoughts and feelings of my teammates to see how they are dealing with the experience of coming back, hoping they can help provide some help and insight.

-Hannah

realizations.

i'm sitting here in my house in williamsburg, still in my robe (even though it's 2:45 p.m.), nursing a cup of coffee, and listening to bon iver, and feeling strangely nostalgic for last semester and our time in ayiti. we talk in branch out a lot about the concept of reorientation - and dealing with those emotions of missing our team's togetherness, missing our community partners, and not knowing how to process them in our daily lives here at william & mary. and as team leader, i'm educated on how best to evaluate those feelings and turn feelings into action. our process of reorientation was so different in may - mainly because it was hard to properly reorient with all of us all over the place. but now, we're here in williamsburg, back at school, and yet i'm still struggling just a little bit in getting acclimated. i think a lot of that comes from the fact that i graduated in december and am caught in this awkward place in my life right now between undergrad and grad school. but nonetheless, i decided to turn to my journal from ayiti and reflect on things that were said by different people we interacted with during our time in ayiti.

one of the moments that i enjoyed the most while we were with international child care was the opportunity we were granted to meet with wesley romulus, the director of ICC ayiti. during our meeting with him, he addressed an issue that many of us had been dealing with - how are we supposed to empower ayitians and help when we aren't doctors or nurses? his response was powerful - he said, "you don't have to be a doctor or a nurse or this or that - you just have to have your heart." those words struck me - as long as we are aware and have our hearts with the people of ayiti, that matters much more than the physical skills that we can bring. in fact, the most powerful forms of empowerment come from people who are emotionally invested. that is something that i have to continually remind myself of - to be emotionally invested. granted, i'm known as the token crier so being emotional isn't a problem for me, but the genuine quality of investment is something that cannot be faked, and i respect that. i think that that is the quality that many other groups that travel to "SAVE" or "REDEEM" or "RENEW" ayiti lacks - the genuine emotional investment. they lack the proper cultural education that leads the way to understanding and emotional investment.

as we start recruiting our team for january 2013, i know that that will be a quality i search for - the ability to be emotionally invested in a project like ours - because that's something special and worthwhile.

xx -

kylee

Day 10

Our final day in Haiti began with a leisurely morning. For many of us, the additional hour or two to sleep was much needed. The physical and mental strain of travel, especially in a developing country, can suck the energy right out of you. Breakfast was served, consisting of mango, papaya and fried eggs (all fresh and local). A few of us took some time to admire and purchase handmade items from Merchants set up within the guesthouse. Billy, fascinated by the work of the Haitian artisans, browsed the selection of hand-carved pieces and purchased a few to take home with him. I found the paintings particularly intriguing; artists paint what they see on what material they have at their disposal. As I flipped through the colorful pieces, I noticed that many of them used recycled fabric for canvas. One piece, in particular, was painted on a discarded piece of digital camouflage left by a U.S. soldier.
After we paid for and put away our newfound treasures, the van arrived and we started the day’s work. Timmy, having responsibilities back on campus, had to leave us a day early and so we quickly said our goodbyes before sending him off to the airport. The rest of our morning was spent in a small tent camp known as Patronsville in the heart of Port Au Prince. Contrary to what you’ve seen in the news and in magazines, this tent camp was organized and relatively clean. A few newly built structures (made of 2x4’s and sheet metal) housed many of the community’s social events. The Compact was given the building designated for Sunday service to conduct our work for the day: sex education, STI awareness, and sexual assault prevention. Yesterday, we were given the opportunity to hear what community leaders think about “family life” and it’s presence in Haiti; today, we were given the podium to say how we see it. The objective: pulling two cultures together through a universally human topic. We sat down with these new community leaders to debunk myths about infections and protection while raising awareness about abuse and prevention. Katie stepped up first to explain the ways in which U.S. kids are introduced to sexual education. She put special emphasis on the parallel between sexual maturity and knowledge, explaining that sex ed. is normally taught gradually over time as kids start to develop and ask questions. Brian spoke to the congregation about the fundamentals of sexual intercourse and sexually transmitted infections along with the myths associated. I finished with a brief presentation on rape and sexual assault and ways in which to address both. Before adjourning, the community leaders asked questions and voiced concerns. Time spent in the tent camp was productive and positive.
After a quick (and bumpy) car ride back to Grace Children’s Hospital, the team sat down to eat. Epi D’Or, a Haitian Panera Bread Co., was served along with sodas bought from the corner street vender. We sat in the boardroom (the only air conditioned space in the building) and enjoyed our baguette sandwiches.
To end our day and conclude our trip, the interim hospital director, Wesley Romulus, met with us to discuss our time with ICC. He was a fascinating person to listen to; he had some great analogies. Many of us were surprised to find that he knew exactly what we had hoped to accomplish while in Haiti. Understanding that we came to actively learn and help Haiti heal on its own, Wesley spoke as if he had read our minds. He addressed our concerns about our experiences earlier in the week including the Visa Lodge and the “poverty tour”. Most importantly, he challenged us to push ourselves even further, encouraging deeper relationships with the department chairs of the hospital in our future Haiti endeavors. At the end of our discussion, the team and I were relieved to know that we were understood—something that troubled us all week.
We finished the day early and spent time at Wall’s packing our things and enjoying our last few moments in the Caribbean sun. Dinner was served: a meal of white rice and a meat (beef?) stew accompanied by the usual Haitian slaw and salad. Dessert: banana bread. We spent the evening watching the moonrise and reminiscing about our time in Port Au Prince and Limonade.

Day 5

Day 5 (January 6th)

I apologize in advance for this late blog post! Things have been a little hectic with everybody finally getting a chance to post their blogs, I just happen to be getting to it a little later than everybody else.

Today was the last day our team spent at Limonade. We woke up to a wonderful (and special) breakfast of pumpkin soup. It is a tradition in Haiti to have pumpkin soup on January first every year. It used to be that only the elite would be able to afford to have pumpkin soup, but after the revolution, al Haitians were able to afford it, and it is something special they share every year. It was delicious and reminded me a little bit of beef stew, and I was honored to be a part of this cultural tradition (though a little late)

We went back to Rafaval today for the final time. The business team needed to print out some of their charts and spreadsheets to give to the women, but for some reason the printer was having some difficulty connecting to the computer, so much of the morning was spent waiting around until somebody was able to figure out how to fix it. I think some of us were a little frustrated that on our final day, we spent hours doing literally nothing. Lunch was some spicy pasta and questionable meat (later identified as sausage) that had an interesting red hue. The daring boys experimented with the hot sauce, and I think Billy lost some taste buds during that lunch. After lunch, all of the Rafaval workers and our team gathered in the common area while the business team (with the help of Gabbie) explained how to use the different spreadsheets they had just made for the factory. They also explained the logo we proposed (Bon KoKo). The education team made the teacher we worked with a certificate, which put the biggest smile on her face. Before we left the factory, the women of Rafaval sang and danced with us. They even got us all dancing (including me and my red face) and laughing and I can’t imagine a better send off. After dancing, all the women lined up to hug us all, which is a special moment I will always keep in my heart. I think we can all agree we felt at home at Rafaval and were sad to leave.

When we got back to Gabbie’s house, we all went straight to the roof, the perfect place to watch the sun set, which was absolutely beautiful. I think it was the perfect way to reflect on our last day at Rafaval and our time at Limonade.

Dinner was complete with a beautiful cake (very sweet! Side note- I’ve noticed how Haitians love sweet and spicy things) and guanabana juice, which was creamy, thick, and sort of like a smoothie. After dinner, Gabbie joined us for reflection, where we were able to ask her all the questions we hadn’t gotten a chance to in the past week, and were able to debrief about our time spent together.

Though part of me doesn’t want to leave the north and Gabbie, we are very excited to tackle our next mission in Port-au-Prince, and can’t wait to update ya’ll about our time spent there.

-Hannah (and team)

Jan 10 – Day 9

It’s a starry night in Port-au-Prince, and the moon seems full for at least the sixth night in a row. (Can anyone out there who paid more attention in astronomy class explain that to me?) And what a beautiful day it’s been.

To start, we had French toast for breakfast. Yep, nothing like some Frenchy toast with spicy peanut butter and, somehow, IGA brand ‘lite’ syrup with a side of mango. Due to a recent printer explosion at ICC, we had a little extra time for breakfast so a few of us got in some good conversations with our driver friend, Jason.

When we arrived at Grace Children’s Hospital, after a friendly greeting by Robenson, we jumped right into our survey project. Because the original hospital was the Mexican ambassador’s house before it became a hospital in the 60’s, and then was largely ruined in the earthquake, ICC has the opportunity to totally re-make the hospital into a state-of-the-art facility for pediatrics and all kinds of services. They’re being really intentional about the process (including involving a pro-bono team of hospital planners from Chicago who are giving huge bank in free assistance in the design phase). In the meantime, they’ve been functioning out of transitional facilities – ranging from repurposed shipping containers that remind me of elementary school portables to small buildings to things that look like an expanded version of those sheds that hang out in the Home Depot parking lot. Some of them, though, are durable enough to last for up to 50 more years, so Grace is trying to get input from their patients on how they should use the facilities after moving to the new hospital some day.

We split up into three teams, and each with a translator, approached patients in waiting areas to survey them about their feelings about the current and future status of transitional facilities. Katie, Brian and I formed a team with our translator Jimmy/Jay-Z, and had a blast connecting with the people we surveyed. Because we each have a background in French, we could pick up much of what they said. And then came a couple of guys who, when we asked them their names and ages in Kreyol, responded to us in English. How fun is that? We got to take the conversations a little further with them, because it was fun for them to practice English, too.

One asked if we enjoyed Haiti and its culture. Upon hearing an enthusiastic yes, he asked if we loved Haiti. And upon that enthusiastic yes, he asked if we then loved him. Because we’d learned about the ways Haitians perceive themselves differently than our culture does – less individualistically (e.g. more likely to refer to themselves as “we,” even), we got that of course us loving Haiti means that we love him. And so as he was thanking us for our time here, he said (among many other kind things), “I love you” right on back to us. Sorta unexpected for a hospital survey conversation, but it certainly felt right in line with the kind of deep human/spirit connection that many people here in Ayiti have offered us freely.

We headed to our first Youth Exchange, which brought us together with 15 community leaders in ICC’s catchment area, most of whom live in tent camps, to discuss sex and understandings around sex from each culture’s perspective. Most of them gave a broad overview of their views on various topics related to sexual ethics, ranging from prostitution to sex education (which happens mostly in schools, but most kids in tent camps are not in school, so…). After we shared back what we heard from them (thanks, Nick) it was time for the discussion to begin. We had a very interesting cultural exchange, talking about our various perceptions of prostitution, how parents and children interact with each other (do parents teach kids about sex?), and our how to best promote healthy sexual cultures.

Then Nick whipped out some 1 in 4 magic (the name comes from the stat that 25% of US college women have been sexually assaulted or experienced attempted sexual assault, and is a men’s education group at W&M) and gave them a sense of how we understand sexual assault and work to prevent it. Rape is a huge issue in tent camps, with low police presence, unsecured homes (no doors, no locks), and low light, so we thought it was important to discuss this topic. Nick gave a definition of rape, and explained how at W&M guys train other guys to recognize it, know the importance of mutual consent and hold each other accountable in promoting the equality of the sexes. Our friends found the ideas interesting and had some good follow-ups. Robenson took notes throughout and will share them with stakeholders in the community and at ICC so they can delve further into the themes raised and improve education and a culture of health in the tent camps.

We bid a fond farewell to our translator Jean Felix and headed out to Epi d’Or, a Haitian fast food restaurant that felt a little bit like a mix of a Panera and a Po’Folks (do those still exist?), thanks to the thatched roof over the Haitian food counter. Ordering 12 sandwiches in this restaurant takes a little bit of micromanaging to make sure the orders are right, and because of the vigilance of driver friend Jason, we successfully avoided ketchup getting on turkey sandwiches, and any condiments at all on Timmy’s sandwich.

From there, we climbed up (that is, in our van Esther) to Petionville, where we saw the surroundings there – resonant to me of Johannesburg sometimes, and with a super crooked street, San Francisco. We rocked out on the way to a customized adapatation of “Baby Please Don’t Go,” in Timmy’s honor (who leaves tomorrow). Some of us souvenir shopped at a roadside mall of souvenir stands. Ask Brian about his new acquisition: an oil drum sun with a beard (which begs the question why all depictions of the sun I’ve ever seen are clean-shaven?).

After some chillaxin back at Walls, and lots of good conversations among the group, we embarked on a massive reflection/group builder sandwich. 3.5 hours to be exact. Lots of affirmations, lots of critical questioning and discussion about the power of culture and how movements change it, and then lots of kind, sincere and appreciative things about what we’ve learned about each other on the trip.

Which brings me back to now. As I write this, I hear the occasional and unmistakable chatter of the lizard I woke up this morning to see on the ceiling above my bed. Sort of makes this native Florida girl feel at home.

‘til next time - Melody

Three Days Left! (Jan. 9)

Monday, January 09, 2012

Greetings from Ayiti!

After a hectic Sunday, I think we were all looking forward to spending the entirety of the day at Grace Children’s Hospital; specifically in attempting to figure out a little more about ICC’s mission in Haiti and how it relates to ours within the country.  We started off the day with a tour of the facility, which included viewing both the temporary shelters that currently house operations and the structure across the street that was destroyed by the earthquake.  The temporary shelters included many varieties of trailers and storage containers that had been transformed into rooms capable of treating the 200-300 individuals who utilize the hospital’s services daily.  These services include pre-natal care, HIV and TB testing, and a children’s in-patient wing; among others.  Another important aspect of the services ICC provides comes in its outreach to tent cities.  There ICC distributes rapid relief dehydration packs, performs on-sight testing for TB and other rapid-transmission diseases, and serves as a lifeline for many who have been homeless for the past two years.

Following our tour we met with Melanie and Victoria who are responsible for community outreach and planning.  We had a great discussion about not only the hospital’s mission, but what being a “blanc” in Haiti means (Melanie is a white-Canadian who lived in Haiti from the ages of eight to 18).  For Melanie, it was important to realize that she would never be able to overcome the name (as all those who came before her had created a precedence upon which she was judged), but to form relationships and change the opinions of those she could reach.  They also presented the plans ICC has developed to replace the destroyed former hospital with an impressive $20 million dollar facility.  It will place an emphasis on training Haiti’s future doctors and nurses, utilizing the latest simulation technology.  In order to build the facility, ICC has received donations from various sources in the US and Canada, but will also be applying to receive a portion of the over $500 million currently held in Haitian bank accounts that had been donated as aid following the earthquake.

After lunch, we returned to Grace Children’s Hospital to prepare for the Cultural Exchange we would experience the next day.  We met with a woman who is largely responsible for organizing outreach to tent camps, and specifically specializes in sexually transmitted diseases (the topic of the cultural exchange).  We were able to form a greater understanding of sex within Haiti’s culture, including its view of homosexuality as taboo and the belief that it is inappropriate for parents to discuss sex with their children.  I think we are all looking forward to our conversation tomorrow; specifically being able to hear from a first-person perspective all the problems the tent camps face regarding sexual assualt, and the solutions that are currently being considered. 

While mostly a day of observation, I think we all gained a much greater perspective regarding the work of ICC in Haiti.  Personally, while I think the work that ICC is incredible, I question where we (a group of college students with no medical training or interest) can provide them with any useful service.  I also question how our volunteer efforts aid in their mission.  Hopefully these questions will be cleared up throughout the week, and we will be able to effectively assist in their efforts.

For now,

Taylor (and all)

Day 2 (Jan. 3rd)

Hey guys!

First of all, I just want to say sorry again that our internet was so messed up because now you all must be thoroughly confused about our itinerary with the bizarre order of our posts.

So on our first real day at Sonje Ayiti with Gabie, we took a tap tap to the Cima school (Cima tent, really) so the education team could get an idea of what they were working with. It was really disappointing to see the moldy, shabby tent that was the only response Unicef made to Gabie's proposal for aid to build a school. One thing that persists throughout Haiti (and I can definitely attest to this from last year) is the enduring positivity of the people who encounter these difficult obstacles. The teachers were incredibly welcoming and were truly happy to have us visiting and working with them. They work every day to give the children of their community an opportunity for a better life outside of their small, hot little tent that can't even keep out the rain. Another inspiring part of the school were the tiny little wooden chairs that were scattered around the room, which Gabie told us the parent's of the community had made with their own resources on their own time.

After the tour of the school, we headed to RAFAVAL's cocoa factory (f.y.i. RAFAVAL is a women's co-op aimed at empowering women by giving them jobs that bring a sense of dignity and sisterhood). To welcome us, the women sang songs that they had written which described their struggle and their perseverance through this struggle. It was really fun to see their passion and their vibrancy, and it was even funnier when Timmy, Nick and Taylor danced one-on-one with one of the women (expect videos to come).

Our team split into our two teams (education and business, me being with the business so I'm going to apologize now for the one-sided perspective of the day) and set off to work on the agendas we had established with Gabie a few months ago. To me, the business meeting, though overwhelmingly abundant with information, went well. We discovered that they not only sell cocoa for hot chocolate but also a ready-made cold chocolate drink that was delicious (the great thing about working with a food business is you get to taste all the merchandise haha). We definitely had a lot of work to do after the meeting, but I felt like there was a lot of promise in the women and their motivation to make their business more successful.

Side note: One of my favorite parts of this trip is the fact that Gabie gives us a truly authentic Haitian experience, from the food to the tap tap and even the fact that we're allowed to just walk around the small village near the factory. It's good to be a part of environment we're working with instead of just observing it and just saying "peace out" at the end of it.

Well, I apologize once more for the lateness of this post. We miss all of you and are having a great time here!

Peace out (see what I did there?),

Katie

Day 7

Hello friends. Once again, internet access has been limited and so our ability to post has been delayed. But don’t fret. This post is from day seven of our adventures, with more to be posted shortly.

Day seven started early with a quick hop out of bed and back in to the “party bus”. Based on the Cami Express’s performance yesterday, we were certain we’d be driving in a couple Nissan pathfinders or something more reliable. Despite our concerns, we decided to trust Gabie and Steve and made our way back to our seats from the day before. We left at six o’clock, hoping to arrive in PaP before our day of planned activities started. Fate was not kind to that poor vehicle and we broke down for something around the millionth time in the past 24 hours. Gabie, a bit frazzled but never losing her poise, made a few calls and had a tap-tap find us. Now this tap-tap was AUTHENTIC. At first glance this vehicle was overwhelming, exploding with colors and words. The first (and most memorable) phrase I saw read, “Kill me now. Give me Jesus.” Although the seating situation was less than ideal—I had a screw jammed up my butt and Melody was literally hanging off the back end—we FINALLY made it to Wall’s Guest House. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if we’d ever make it out of the Haitian boonies. But we did, safe and sound.

Then something just shy of a miracle happened: we were given breakfast and time to shower and nap before heading out. THANK YOU, JESUS. Between you and me, I was smelling pretty ripe (it was my first shower in 2 days). Breakfast consisted of mangoes, oranges, watermelon, and pulpy flavored yogurts. The girls were given the room the boys had last year, and the boys were given what we’ve named “the cave”: no windows, five beds, whitewashed walls, two oscillating fans, and a piece of [tasteful?] artwork. But we’ll manage (at least there aren’t any bunk beds involved). Just kidding, Timmy. The group spent some much-needed time recuperating, preparing for an eventful afternoon and evening.

The afternoon began with a few introductions. Our driver and translator arrived, both of which we had never met before. The driver only spoke French (I never did catch his name) and Jimmy was our translator/guide/babysitter. They took us to lunch at a swanky “blanc” hangout/hotel appropriately named the Visa Lodge. Inside, it’s easy to forget where you are (precisely why we hated the place). The restaurant was situated poolside, with our table under a cabana-esque overhang. Lunch was served buffet style, complete with Omaha steak and Maine lobster, both obviously imported. A native band serenaded the restaurant with tropical music. It rubbed several of us the wrong way as we began to see how the musicians were being displayed like some Haitian novelty in front of the guests. And when I say guests, I mean white people. Taylor said it best when he whispered into my ear, “hey look, we’re no longer the minority”. For the first time in a week, I was surrounded by more foreigners than Haitians. This comes to show who the hotel/restaurant caters to and expects from its guests. It made me sick. I couldn’t help but think of the bumper sticker I had seen in May that said something like, “Humanitarian Terrorists Are Not Welcome”. How could we be sitting poolside, sipping fruit smoothies and nibbling on steak and lobster when people were struggling to survive a few hundred yards away? Wiping our chins and heading back to the van, we had never been more full and empty at the same time.

Following our guilt-inducing lunch, we began what Melody has dubbed the “poverty tour”. If any of us weren’t already uncomfortable, we soon would be. We drove downtown, seeing a much more urban take on Haitian life. Our first stop was a quick visit to the Musee du Pantheon National. Billy’s participation in an American Studies class, Haiti and the US, this past semester has given him the unofficial title of group historian. When he saw the exhibits, he almost hit the ceiling. Included in the exhibits was the anchor from the Santa Maria and the memorial/burial site of the original rebellion leaders and soldiers (talk to Billy for more info). The museum, the tamest of our stops, was followed by a leisurely jaunt in front of the presidential palace. As an outsider, it was a hard place to be. On one side of the street, there is this beautiful white building collapsed in on itself (SOOOOOOOOO much symbolic irony) and on the other side, there are rows and rows of shitty relief tents and shacks. Keep in mind that the 12th of this month will mark the second anniversary of the quake. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? To make things even more uncomfortable (especially for poor Hannah) Jimmy walked us not through, but around these camps. Our unnamed driver crept behind us in the van. We quickly decided we had had enough.

Desperately trying to separate ourselves from the “HAITI EARTHQUAKE RELIEF TEAM” in matching shirts, we jumped in the van and sped off towards our next destination. Jimmy informed us we were headed towards a cemetery. Which one? I still don’t know. Why? An even better question I can’t answer. We made it to the entrance were a Vodou artist was selling his work. His pieces were fascinating: horrifically manipulated dolls spray-painted black, tied up with string, and pierced with nails. His work will certainly give me nightmares but was interesting enough to solicit a business card from him. Jimmy, using the little intuition he had, decided against entering the cemetery. We packed back in the van and headed towards yet another iconic symbol of the earthquake’s devastation. Driving up to the Cathedral of Our Lady of Assumption, the national cathedral of Haiti, I was speechless. What was once a beautiful gothic/baroque building was now leaning columns and chunks of concrete dangling by iron rods. I stopped to admire the pieces of beautiful handcrafted stone flooring and couldn’t help but think of the archbishop, slain during a service, along with his parishioners on that very floor nearly two years ago. It was some heavy stuff. To make matters even worse, a horde of Haitian beggars ambushed us as we wandered through the cathedral ruins. One woman rubbed her pregnant belly with one hand and held out the other. Another swung her dilapidated arm around, trying to earn our sympathies and throw her a gourde or two. Timmy swears that the man playing the guitar and following us around with a big stick was “conveniently blind”. Despite our sincerest urge to hand these people some money, we knew it wouldn’t be in their best interest. If we gave them a dollar or a million dollars, it would never be enough. I reassured myself that I was on this island to empower the people of Haiti, not to feed the stereotype of the humanitarian [terrorist] tourist. Wading through the crowds of crippled and pregnant natives, we made our way back to the van and moved on.

Jimmy and the driver dropped us back at Wall’s. The team split up and spent some time alone before dinner, frustrated with the afternoon’s activities. Many of us have begun wondering if International Child Care fully grasps the Compact’s mission. We aren’t like the other foreigners we were exposed to today. We’re not trying to “heal” Haiti like the doctors in the restaurant, nor are we trying to “save” Haiti like the 28-person group from central Michigan. We are here to actively learn so that we can address social issues vital to Haiti’s recovery. We are here to help Haiti heal and save itself. Based on the day’s itinerary, I’m not so sure ICC understands. Still full from our buffet lunch, many of us sat silently at the dinner table.

Our day’s saving grace was a familiar face from our trip this past May. Djaloki was kind enough to pay us another visit to discuss Haitian life and his experiences as a Vodou priest. Djaloki is what Haitians call a “shaman”. Being a well travelled, educated man, Djaloki can spur some interesting conversation. He began with a quick bio and a few Haitian proverbs. He then invited us to interrupt him at any time and ask questions, encouraging us to step outside our “comfort boxes”. Nothing was taboo in Djaloki’s eyes. After a few minutes, the new team members began to warm up to his charismatic personality. We began throwing lots of different questions at him, ranging from Haitian culture to organized religion and spirituality. The group was engaged in a conversation with a man who understood the collective Haitian experience. One of the more profound topics discussed with Djaloki was the fast approaching “shift of consciousness”. Ordinarily a topic to deeply philosophical for casual discussion, Djaloki was able to break down the concepts and explain his belief in a current change in collective morality. He believes a vast reformation in the human understanding of the world—and how we interact with it—must occur for us to redirect our present “suicidal path”. According to Djaloki, it is the responsibility of every human being to open his or her mind to the wisdom that knowledge, humility, and symbiotic relationships can provide. It is through this wisdom that we can find hope for the future. He continued, explaining the “Diamond Rule”, “Do unto others as they would have done to themselves.” Mull over THAT for a hot second. I could go on forever about the wisdom oozing from Djaloki.

We spent the rest of the evening reflecting and completing affirmations to help us unwind from one long-ass day.



<3 for Ayiti,

Nick et al.

Day 6, Surprise!

Whew, today was...exciting. We woke up at Gabriel's place in Cap to a beautiful Haitian sunrise over the mountains. The entire top floor/roof of the house we've been at is open air, so we climbed up for a GREAT view! Around 6:30 or so we finished packing up and loaded the air-conditioned bus for our pleasant ride down "smoother" roads than our way up.

1st surprise- Just down the road from Gabby's house, we all had our first break into showbiz, especially Melody. A Haitian comedian was filming a commercial for our bus-line while we were on it! It only took about 20-30 minutes, basically he climbed on and tried to cram next to Melody and another woman (because most Haitian transit is really cramped, like the tap taps). The woman points out that he can comfortably sit in his own seat across the aisle, and BOOM! add for comfortable rides in Haiti. So if any of you are watching commercials in Haiti soon...prepare to see some familiar faces.

2nd surprise- After a few hours on the road, around 10:30 or maybe 11, we stopped at a gas station for a quick break and to fix our bus (something was overheating). Well, since that took longer than we expected, we stopped at the convenience store, where some of us bought some waters and genuine real AMERICAN food (doritos!) Aside from the shocking prices on certain items, we were shocked by how incredibly clean these bathrooms were...not going into more detail but i'm pretty sure everybody was happy about that one. We hit the road once more until...

3rd surprise-So as it turns out, we weren't really "fixed". We stopped again, and continued to stop every 2 miles or so, 'cause we were leaking coolant and had to keep putting in water. Needless to say, that slowed us down a bit. But instead of focusing on a negative, think about this: every time we stopped they made sure we were comfortable before they even worried about looking under the hood. Steve, who as far as I know wasn't associated with the bus company, hopped out every time to do all he could to speed up our trip. Every Haitian we've met so far has been unbelievably helpful and hospitable. More to come on that in a few. Finally, after a while, we stopped to "really fix" the bus again, and while a bunch of people were working on that, we stopped off at a pretty nice restaurant for some lunch and to cool off.

As long as I could possibly make this story, the point is when we finally took off again, the bus STILL wasn't exactly perfect. We drove for a while, and as it got darker we realized there was no way we would possibly make it to Port-au-Prince in time. So Gabby and her friend (who I met at lunch through my "wonderful" skills with French) made some calls, and as it turns out, found us a place to stay at the Partners in Health (PIH) compound. They were wonderful, they took us in last minute, gave us a safe place to stay, and several doctors and nurses gave us their beds. We really stressed to them how much we didn't want to take beds from doctors and nurses, they are doing wonderful things down here, but they were insistent (Seriously...Haitians are some of the nicest and most welcoming people I've ever met). Anyway, we woke up early, hit the road I think around 5:50, and made our way to Port-Au-Prince on Sunday morning. Needless to say, I'm posting this a little after the fact. But I'll leave the next part of the story up to Nick, he's got a lot to tell.

'Till next time,

Brian P.

Day 3

Day 3

Limonad is in the Northern Part of Haiti, right outside of the biggest Northern City, Cap Haitian. As stated in the other blogs, our Hostess, Gabby Vincent, lives about an hour away from our sites at RAFAVAL (the womens’ group chocolate factory) and the start up school, CIMA. Every day we have been taking Taptaps, which are the colorful trucks that are the Haitian form of taxis. Here’s a picture of one:

They are not the most comfortable of vehicles, but have been awesome for team bonding and sitting really close together. Lots of arms have been placed around each other, and many games of Essence have been played. As Kylee has mentioned, the roads are terrible with massive potholes and a lot of the time are made of dirt/mud and gravel.

Today (Wednesday the 4^th), we left in the rain after a delicious breakfast of coffee, spaghetti and bananas, hahaha. The roof of the Taptap was leaking on Timmy’s shoulder, as well as Kylee who was sitting across the way. Luckily, Nick brought mobile speakers that he had gotten for Christmas (thank you Nick’s family!) and we were rocking out on our way to RAFAVAL. I’m sure many Limonadians thought that the group of dancing Blancs in the back of the taptap were out of their mind, but it helped pass the time while we got wet and were rocked around by pot holes.

Once we arrive at RAFAVAL, the business group (Taylor, Nick, Katie, Melody and Brian) went into their office with Patrick (our translator) and interviewed many of the administration and the workers of the chocolate factory. They argued a little bit about the feasibility of the business, but reached an agreement on many of the issues. They started to make ledgers to track how much of the product the factory was selling each day, and started to make other forms to organize the positions and hierarchy within the business. I was not part of the group, but I believe that was the gist of what they accomplished.

The education group (Kylee, Hannah, Timmy and Me) met up in a different room within RAFAVAL and interviewed the teachers of CIMA with our Hostess, Gabriel, who started Sonje Ayiti (the organization that we went through to help both CIMA and RAFAVAL). Gabriel translated for us and we asked them basic questions about the school. They have 50-some kindergarteners and 1^st graders. They are learning basic reading and writing, math, singing and history, as well as social skills and how to interact in more formal settings. We found that school is looked upon as a luxury, especially in this severely poor community. Almost no one can afford to go to school, private or public, let alone get past elementary school. We asked the teachers what they needed from us. Besides a school that isn’t hosted within a ripping tent and clean water, they needed help organizing the content they were teaching, so the children would more easily pass the government exams to move up in grades. We set up to make up a basic lesson plan template for the teachers in which they could list the objective for the lesson, pre-evaluate what the students already know, instruct the lesson and evaluate how much the students took in (the OPIE model).

For lunch we had tuna sandwiches with some spicy seasoning. It was delicious. Once we rode back to Gabby’s in the taptap, it would around 4 in the afternoon. We took a nap and had an awesome dinner of seasoned rice, fish with heads, tails and bones (despite the disgusting display, was REALLY delicious).

We did reflection in the boys room and talked about our overall goals for the trip and how they were still being applied in each group. After reflection, we played several games of MAFIA which I was a terrible mayor for. We also did some planning for the next day and put several charts and plans on our computers.

So that is all from Day 3. We are having an awesome time and are in good hands.

Having the experience of our lives,

Billy and the WM Haiti Compact.

Day 1

Southampton County vs. Haiti

I never thought that it was possible for me to be this completely exhausted at 8:23 p.m., but here it is, 8:23, and I’m surprised I’m even awake enough to write this blogpost. Our journey started early this morning at 2:45 a.m., when all of us woke up and got our bags together and scarfed down bagels and coffee courtesy of our team member Brian’s family who are complete godsends. After heading to IAD and arriving (and standing in line for what felt like forever), we had the chance to run into a woman who knew Timmy and is apparently the “Drew Stelljes” of Shenandoah University (and we didn’t even hold that against her, Drew!), who was on her way to Cuba. Only the beginning of random run-ins throughout our time here. After a fiasco with Melody’s checked keyboard and the discovery that the American Airlines worker thought Haiti was a city and a place where trade embargo is enforced, we headed through security (wassup no full-body screenings for anyone!) and had enough time to grab coffee and yogurt before we boarded our flight. I consider myself a non-nervous flyer, but there were some gross things going on during our ascent – lots of turbulence and shakes that were not well received by my near-dehydrated (because of lots of coffee and no water) state. After a brief layover in Miami, we were on our way to Port-au-Prince International Airport. The heat and humid air welcomed us with open arms as did the old standby mariachi-ish band of Ayitians that greeted us warmly in May.

Katie & I successfully navigated our team through Immigration Services and Customs and were praying with every being inside of each of us that when we walked outside past the amounts of swarming people searching for ways to make money, we would be greeted by Gabrielle’s smiling face – and to our relief, WE WERE! She gave us lots of hugs and kisses and welcomed us and escorted us into two waiting cars – a Nissan truck and a Nissan Pathfinder. Timmy & Melody hopped into the truck and the other seven of us hopped into the Pathfinder – and let me tell you, that was only the start of our journey. Now the title of this blog can make sense – I come from a small town surrounded by the vast boonies of Southampton County – and I thought I was a country girl at heart who knew how to roll with the big guys and be in the middle of nowhere. Somehow I found myself as we were bumping along the dirt roads (after a lengthy drive or wind around mountains that made even my strong stomach feel nauseous) completely blown away by the lack of things that were present. Roads peppered with large rocks were normal, as was driving through deep water. It was refreshing to me to watch the faces of Brian, Billy, Hannah, and Taylor as we drove these roads and saw the wide-eyed wonder and fascination that was present in their faces. It even made me giggle – remembering fondly the horrible feeling that I walked out the airport with in May – one of undeserved leadership, nervousness, but most of all – one of complete and utter fear of what was about to transpire. There was no such feeling this time – instead it was replaced by a feeling of excitement, joy, and near familiarity of the area.

Our car ride (which was supposed to be a bus ride – hey ya’ll, it’s Haiti – we have to be flexible!) ended up taking us 5.5 hours – which doesn’t seem like a horribly long time until you realize that you don’t get to stop and it’s windy and half of it consists of roads that have never been paved and have potholes that my 6’5” father could lay inside of and have extra room. We rolled with it, and although there was excited Backstreet Boys singing in the truck, in our car – we decided to replace the lyrics of Wiz Khalifa’s “Young, Wild, and Free” and finish the chorus with ‘Livin’ young and wild and in Haiti’ which I’m sure will be a repeated track on our trip, I’m sure.

Finally – we’re here! At Gabrielle’s house – which is much farther out in the boonies than any hunt club or random farm is in Southampton County is. I’m so excited for what is to come this week – lots of new experiences, love, smiles, and change. So, even though I’m disappointed to say that Southampton County loses the “boonies” challenge, I’m not disappointed to be able to find myself this week in new situations and revel in the opportunities that are about to come my way.

We’ll keep you posted – although we have somewhat limited wireless access and I’m 99% sure this might not get posted tonight!

Tons & Tons of Love to all of our favorite people –

Kylee & the rest of the Haiti Compact gang

We're Safe & Well!

Hi everybody!

I’m writing you from bright and sunny Limonade, a fairly small village in the northern province of Haiti. We have been here since we arrived on Monday and will be making the four to six hour trek back to Port-au-Prince on Saturday. We have been staying with Gabrielle Vincent, the president of Sonje Ayiti, a non-profit organization that does great work here in Limonade. Unfortunately, her house does not have very good internet access, which is why we have been unable to post a blog before now.

Right now, however, we are working out of Rafaval, a cocoa factory run by a number of Haitian women in Limonade. Kylee, Billy, Hannah, and I were showing two Haitian teachers a lesson planning document we made last night on my computer and Patrick, our translator, was kind enough to let us borrow his modem to update you all!

Overall, we have had an amazing experience here in Limonade and in Haiti in general. However, I think our new folks experienced a bit of culture shock at the airport in Port-au-Prince, where you walk out and the “red hats” all try to “help” you with your bags. After navigating the airport via vice grips on our bag” and stubborn refusals to tip for the red hats’ “help,: we met up with Gabrielle and made the afore-mentioned four to six hour ride from Port-au-Prince to Limonade.

To say the ride was adventurous might be a large understatement. The first leg of our trip consisted of hairpin turn after hairpin turn up and down a mountain, which promptly lead to the “Parady Puke.” Fortunately, Brian seemed to make a full recovery in time for approximately three hours of travel on unpaved roads full of potholes, boulders, and mini streams that needed to be crossed. Despite the adventurousness, I think all of us appreciated the opportunity to see the Haitian countryside and see far more of the country than we would have from the air.

Thoroughly exhausted after arriving at Gabrielle’s house, we ate dinner, reflected, and went straight to bed – at 8pm. It was awesome. Approximately 6.5 hours after going to bed – 4:30am, for those whose math skills might be lacking – my bed (i.e. the top bunk) promptly fell onto Nick (i.e. the bottom bunk). Sorry to humiliate you, Mom, and don’t worry, Nick’s parents, he survived the ordeal completely unscathed – not even a scratch! Actually, he barely even woke up. Needless to say, it has become our go-to topic for a good laugh. And the Haitians think it is the funniest thing since forever. So that happened.

As for more substantial things, we have been split into two teams (though we both work out of Rafaval) – the Business (Nick, Taylor, Brian, Katie, and Melody) and Education (Kylee, Hannah, Billy, and Timmy) teams. The Business Team has been working with the women from Rafaval on a variety of things to help their business; I’m sure you will hear more details of their work in a future blog post.

The Education team has worked with three teachers from a school in Cima, an even smaller village outside of Limonade, to work on a method for lesson planning and curriculum building. Not surprisingly, the language barrier has been a struggle and the team without Gabrielle as a translator has been at a disadvantage. I think we have done a great job of pushing through, however, and we have made remarkable progress with our respective groups. I can’t really speak for the Business Team, but I know the Education Team has been encouraged by our progress and the teachers have made us feel that what we have worked with them on will actually be useful to them. We have been extremely cautious to repeatedly seek their feedback – there’s nothing worse than assuming what they need (like we could ever know) and giving them something that isn’t all that helpful. We have worked really hard to make sure our mutual time (so both our time and the teachers’) has been spent effectively.

There’s so much to talk about, but this blog has already gotten pretty long and there are many more people whose perspectives you all should hear from. Please just know that we are all feeling very safe and secure here in Limonade – the hospitality from Sonje Ayiti and the Haitian people in general has been heartening. We feel like our time and the resources used to get us here have been well-spent and we’re very much looking forward to the next several days here in Haiti.

So long for now,

Timmy