a hot shower,
refrigerator,
blue jeans,
knowing it’s okay to drink water from the tap…
Weird.
And Fantastic. 
thinking in Creole in my head,
passing people in the street and no words are exchanged,
feeling a pang when I see dark skin…
Weirder.
Haiti, I miss you.
Last weekend, I went to Cap Haitian with Reed and Michella. It was a belated birthday get-away weekend for Reed. Cap Haitian is a smaller city in Nothern Haiti, and it’s just beautiful. We went in particular for the beaches…
To get to this particular beach, you have to take a moto on a 30 minute ride up, through and down the mountain. Good times.
the fueling and airing station
we could have fit one more...
And what to do when you arrive at the beach and there’s nowhere to change into your suit? Well, you undress behind a flapping towel of course. Complete with Haitian spectators. One more reason for them to say that foreigners are crazy. 
mad skillz
And now I’ve had the privilege to see another side of Haiti – the natural beauty side. Michella made a comment at the beach that has really stuck with me. She said to me, “Amy, when I’m at places like this, I don’t understand why my country is poor.”
There’s a lot of answers to that. Most of them have to do with foreign policy, rumors that depleted tourism in Haiti, and slanted journalism coverage, etc. But answers aren’t why she said that. She said that because she loves her country and longs for it to be whole again. But I don’t think her comment needs analysis, I think it’s a statement better left open to interpretation. Why indeed?
All in all, it was a beautiful weekend away. And thanks to Reed for being born.
Ever since last Thursday, things have been a bit of a whirlwind. It’s like I started going and haven’t stopped. I love it! But it’s not so fun for anyone tracking what I’m doing… oops.
I leave in less than 2 weeks. Time has gone by quickly, and seems to be speeding up as my departure nears. It always happens that way, huh?
I have fallen in love with so many people in Haiti. And I have been so welcomed and embraced. Many of the guys in SODA feel like my brothers, and the kids have become my norm. When I think about leaving Haiti, it’s breaking my heart. Saying goodbye to my family when I return to CA feels somehow different than saying goodbye to my Haitian friends when I return to CA. The distance is farther – in all senses of the word.
But I will not talk about this today. Today, an update.
For three weeks I have been meeting with the youth in the neighborhood about what they want the community center to be about. This process has been long, operating on “Haitian time,” and it’s been an exercise for me in teaching how to do something, vs. doing it myself. Last week we began to put many of the things we dreamed up into action. We painted the space to be used for the center, we wrote rules and codes for the center, had a meeting with adults who will volunteer with the center, and began to institute a schedule of sorts – operating hours, if you will. It’s been really fun to see everyone in action, and I feel a lucky gal that I get to see the fruition of some of my work.
the paint crew
I also began the art project in Solino. Solino is one of many poor slums in Port-au-Prince, and another location for a SODA school. In previous weeks, I had several meetings with people in Solino to brainstorm about projects. After several canceled start dates due to illness or a missing translator, I made it over to Solino and we began our project. I love Solino. The people in Solino have a different spirit than the people in Jake, more open, more friendly. Today I am headed out to Solino again to hopefully finish the projects and take lots of photos. I have been working with the students in Solino to create art and visual aids for their school. We have created posters with each letter of the Creole alphabet and an accompanying picture that begins with the corresponding letter. The kids have loved it. Today if we finish that, we will begin to paint some Haitian images on the walls of the school.
So those are the projects. This past weekend we also celebrated Reed’s birthday. In the morning Reed and I cooked a “big breakfast” American style, complete with pancakes, omelettes, bacon, and juice. Everyone at the house in the morning got to try it, and most people thought it was grand.
two kids from AVT feeding me pancakes, courtesy of "big breakfast"
Later in the day Lolo and I went on a secret adventure to find a birthday cake. Lolo took it to my house and I distracted Reed until later, as everyone finished preparing my house for his birthday party. It was a big success.
the Haitians know how to cook up some party food
The past weekend also included a tropical storm that flooded the island and caused most everything to shut down for a good part of the day Saturday. I was lucky enough to have a fabulous roommate with a computer and movie, so we spent a wonderful afternoon chilling.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet that I’m learning Creole. I have many teachers, and have been studying hard. The other day I had a 1 hour conversation in Creole. Way to go me.
This is just the tip of the iceberg. How do you explain your life with words? Hopefully the photos help.
Many foods are sold on the street in Haiti – fried food, bread, rice and beans, spaghetti, avocadoes, cheese, cookies, etc. My favorite treat by far is crème mayi…
Oh crème mayi, how I love you! Your creamy goodness, your frozen delight, your sweetness that dribbles down my chin. You are a thing to behold! In the heat of the Haitian sun, you enliven my tatse buds and lift my spirits. When I hold you crème mayi, I cannot help but smile.
Crème Mayi on the left, Chocolat on the right
Crème mayi is a coveted treat among the kids, and they love it just as much as me. In fact, they’ve started using it as slang. Anytime something is really delicious or really fantastic, the kids will smile, nod and knowingly utter, “crème mayi.”
Crème mayi basically translates to Creamy Corn. Imagine my surprise my when I looked at the ingredients and saw that corn was nowhere to be found! When I informed my Haitian friends of this, they didn’t believe me, explaining that the tiny yellow flecks in the ice cream bar were in fact pieces of corn. I disagreed. I think they are what the label refers to as “Stabilizer.” The jury is still out.
On the other hand, I was not surprised to find that sugar was number two on the ingredient list. There’s a reason it tastes so good…
DON’T BE HAITIAN ON ME!!!
I’m finding it difficult to keep up with blogging. Not only does it require making time to sit at the computer, it also requires me to access my ability to decompress my experiences. That’s a tough one. The other thing is, I find it difficult to edit myself. While I want to communicate all that I am learning, I also want to protect the integrity of my new friends and of Haiti. And spewing my experience does not do that. You understand?
So, tonight I will leave you with some photos. Not so much explanation, but we’ll see if that old saying really holds up…
Cite de Soleil team
Jake team
SODA has started a soccer program among the neighborhood assemblies. What started as a fun way for the kids to get out and move around has evolved into a wonderful springboard for getting people involved. Many of the soccer programs have jumpstarted other neighborhood projects, spearheaded by neighborhood locals . The soccer teams have also served as a great way for kids from different neighborhoods to have some interaction with one another, breaking down biases about “other slums” and the people who live there. At the soccer matches, everyone is the same. Soccer is such a universal language.
I tagged along for “training” and to take some photos of the teams in action. Soccer in Haiti makes me hot.
These are some of the kids of AVT (neighborhood assembly of children). This has beccome my most ambitious project, attempting to set up a youth community center, complete with English, reading, art, and computer stations. More on that later. For now, the faces that you can’t help but love..
the boy who will always help clean, cook, wash...
infectious smile
my constant escorts
building with jenga blocks
this could go on and on…
I’ll save some for later.
I love you mom and wish you the most beautiful day!
Wish I could be there with you – Bon Fete pou Ayiti!
Everything moves at a different pace, and everyone has a different stride. After being in Haiti for 2 weeks, I feel that I’m finally getting a handle on mine.
Deep within me is the desire to go go go! and be productive and do it all now and give it your best and work until you see something…etc., etc. But that’s not always how things work. And that’s almost never how big changes work. Time is the marker, and one cannot rush time.
So, there’s a lot of work to be done here. Haiti and it’s people have a lot of work to do. SODA and it’s people have a lot of work to do. And I have a lot of work to do. But it cannot all be accomplished in one day. It cannot all be accomplished in 7 weeks. But it can be started. And that’s enough.
I was talking with Lolo last night, hearing about his journey and his dreams in life. He spent several years in an orphanage here started and run by Aristide and is now studying law with the pursuit of becoming a pro bono lawyer. He’s really an amazing guy, as are many of the leaders among SODA. As I heard his story and we talked of the story of Haiti, I was weighted by the disparity and injustice practiced and maintained in the world. I told him I tried to be an optimist, but sometimes the facts turned me in the opposite direction. He reminded me that there is a lot of work to be done, here and elsewhere, but that it is possible. He knows that it will happen and believes the people can do it. His is a spirit that can’t help but to inspire you.
It’s become a little joke with Lolo, Jeremy and the kids to ask me if I’m angry (Amy, Ou fache?) I’m always surprised by this and answer, “No! Mwen pa fache!” Apparentely, they see me looking all serious and focused, and assume I’m upset. When you wear your emotions on your sleeve it’s understood in any language, yeah? The last couple days I’ve been smiling a lot more, a little easier. I blame it on finding my stride. It’s a good feeling.
Let’s hope it sticks.
I’ve nabbed some quality time at the computer and I’m still awake enough to be coherent. So hows about a little rundown?
TUESDAY
I arrived in Haiti early Tuesday morning after a long night’s flight across the US and through Miami. From the door of the plane I’m greeted by the heat and hold tightly to the railing as we descend the steep aircarft stairs. I manage to follow the crowd across the runway and enter the Port-au-Prince (PAP) airport. Once inside, everyone lines up at customs. Because I don’t have my Haitian address on me, I’m escorted to wait in the customs office. After a silent 30 minutes, it’s communicated that I have a ride waiting for me outside and I’m escorted to retrieve my address from him. I look into a sea of Haitian faces and see a tall dreaded man smile and wave at me. I’m the only blan (foreigner) at the door, so Pouchan finds me easily. He gives my address to the officer and back inside I go. After going through customs I wait for my luggage with the crowd, while the electricity blinks off and on. Pouchan greets me with a kiss, throws my bags into the car, and away we go. As we leave the airport, I reach for my seatbelt – yeah right. The drive from the airport gives an up-close introduction to some of the poorer parts of PAP. I see shanty houses and children begging in the street. As we approach the heart of the city I get my first taste of Haitian traffic, literally. When the streets are full and the heat is thick, exhaust fills the air. It’s stop and go and swerve and stop and go. This is something I will become familiar with in the days to come. I will prefer walking.
I drop off my bags at Reed’s house (kai Reed) and Pouchan asks me if I want to go to seminary. I’m more than a little confused, and then I finally understand he means the seminar. Apparentley, Susie has called it seminary on accident and the name has stuck with the students. We will refer to it as such for the rest of their stay, and always with a smile.
When I arrive at the school, I finally meet Reed, the phantom that I’ve been communicating with via email for weeks. I also meet Susie and Lynn, two other foreigners who have come to teach a 2-week seminar on the basics of teaching. These women warmly welcome me and will become my Haitian mothers for the next week. I sit at the seminar for the rest of the morning and soak it in. After my first Haitian lunch – rice with bean sauce – I am taken by Lolo via moto to the house I will be staying at. I crash for 2 hours and awake to my cell phone singing. Susie and Lynn have invited me over for dinner. My Haitian escorts, Mito and Jamison, walk me to their abode, and we spend the evening talking Haiti and SODA. These women are a hoot and I feel so thankful they have taken me under their wing. It is late and I am invited to spend the night. I sleep on the roof with Susie. She warns me about the rooster wake up call and I drift away. She teases me later that I sleep like a corpse. Day 1 – completed, survived.
Roosters crow, 5am
The chorus sings, afternoons and Sunday
Honking horns of motos, tap-taps, cars-
warn you to get out of the way.
Creole fills the air.
The water seller cries “Dlo! Dlo!”
Timounn greet me, “Bon jou, en femme?”
Marchon announce their wares for sale
Stones rattle underfoot.
The wind blows,
and the tin roofs come alive
Evening looms and music blares
a Haitian remix of American style songs
Darkness falls, electricity buzzes on
off
on
off
A mosquito buzzes in my ear,
barking dogs lull me to sleep
The fan kicks on and mutes the heat
“Listen well,” Haiti whispers to me.
It’s enough to fill your ears and move your feet for days
I just tried uploading some photos – sorry to say it’s not working. I’m tempted to give up entirely, but as I’ve yet to post an update, I’ll do a jumbly entry, no matter the quality. News is news. Yeah?
While attempting to upload said photos, some curious eyes saw what I was doing. So now, as I type, I have two companions sitting beside me, giving me kisses on my ear, squeezing in as close as they can. I love it. Jekila and Marko. Hopefully you can meet them later.
I am wiped. Today was a hot day, full of meetings and getting started. And getting started is always the hardest part. But it’s good to feel like I’m getting somewhere. Here’s some tentative plans…
Solino is a neighborhood in Port-au-Prince. Of the SODA schools, it is the only location that “owns” it’s school. For this reason, I hope to collaborate with the teachers and neighborhood kids in beautifying the school. Also, there is talk of painting a mural. I will function as the instigator and encourager behind this project, organizing creative vision, teaching a little color theory and recruiting some Haitian artists.
The street kids school - lekol timounn la rie – happens downtown every weekday from 3-6 pm. The kids come and meet in an open air plaza while the teachers lead classes and later serve a meal. Everyone that comes is a volunteer. It’s really a pretty amazing thing, getting people to mobilize in this way. Street kids in Haiti are considered a bother, so all the more revolutionary that SODA is reaching out to them. The plan is to do some art projects with the kids and to use the school as a virtual classroom for the teachers. I observe them as they teach and offer suggestions and critique in a short session afterwards. It’s the hands-on approach.
Last but not least, the most ambitious project. There is a neighborhood association in Jacquet called AVJ. After a couple months, lots of kids started coming around too and decided that they would form their own association – AVT. Means the same thing but has to do with kids (timounn). So they’re at this house a lot, hanging out, playing games, learning english, typing, reading and writing. It’s great. But, it’s gotten bigger and not so structured. So, I’m gonna team up with Lolo and the kids and create a little more order based on the visions of the kids. It should be a fun project. More on that later.
And then there’s soccer. I have a date with about 7 Haitian boys tomorrow morning at 6am to play soccer. We’ll see how I hold up.
Thus ends my fragmented entry. Mwen fatigue.
Today I leave for Haiti.
I will probably spend a good chunk of the day doing last minute things. Then maybe one last run, or a stroll about the Mission. But, as I’m doing so I will be reflecting on the beautiful day I got to experience yesterday.
I had the privilege of attending the wedding of Brian and Rachael at a little creek in Aptos.
It was personal, simple and emotional. The very best kind of wedding. I cried a little and smiled a lot.
What a joy to participate in this communal event. Guests brought homemade food, people lounged on the grass and in the sun, and everyone looked to be having a good time.
Brian and Rachael, I wish you the very best and am confident you will make more beautiful contributions to the world – now, as one.
I also had the luck to have some friends throw me a send off party. I don’t have any pictures from it, but I don’t need em. I was reminded again and again how incredibly lucky I am to have such people in my life. Longtime friends, kindred spirits and newer people to my life all combined to cover me with love. Thank you for your interest in my trip, for your support, and for your prayers and words of wishing. I’m sure the memory of this evening will help sustain me during my time away. I love you guys and am so grateful that you made the time to send me off well. Thank you for surrounding me with your spirit. It was a beautiful evening.
There’s special moments in life when I catch a glimpse of how loved I am -by my creator, by my family, by my friends. And it floors me. I’m not sure why I get to have all the luck, while so many others do not. But, even without the answers, I want to be grateful. It’s a discipline, and one I want to practice.
With this in mind, I prepare to enter Haiti. And while first glance might provide countless examples of people not being loved and not being so lucky, I want to keep my eyes and heart open to seeing the places where these moments do exist. Because I know they do. I know they do.
Haiti, I look forward to what you will teach me. And I’m practicng my gratefulness in advance.
It appears I do.
High five.
