Hurricane #2, and we are okay.
Imagine a snow--when it starts to snow and everyone calls out of work and school gets cancelled and everyone watches the weather all day to find out that...yes indeed, it is snowing. Well, here in Haiti there is no snow. When it rains everyone stays home, calls out of work, the stores don't open and everyone listens to the radio to find out that...yes indeed, it is raining. To call it a "hurricane" is probably correct, but we experienced only rain--three days of steady rain. Not heavy hurricane rain, just steady rain for about 3 days. When the rain finally stopped and people emerged again, we asked what they had done for the past three days, and the common response was "We stayed in bed all day." We learned from our Haitian friends to take it easy, so we got out of bed late and busied ourselves with Scrabble (in English and Creole), a movie, and some reading.
In other news, this morning we arrived in Port-au-Prince for the last leg of our orientation. We'll be here for a little more than a week, taking Creole lessons, setting up a bank account, and learning things like How to Drive a Motorcycle in Swiftly Moving Traffic. Then we're on to Desarmes on September 6!
Until the next hurricane.....
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Cloudlessness:
the missing ingredient in uploading photos. Phew.
A few highlights from last week:
Kay Henri Christophe ("House of Henri Christophe"), the palace that the second leader of Haiti built for himself. It was destroyed by an earthquake and is now in the process of being restored.
A very fishing place, as someone described it the other day. These guys were using a home-stitched sail in a bay just north of Ft. Liberte.
The Citadel, also built by Christophe. It was meant to be a refuge for Haitians should the enslaving French ever invade again. Built with conscripted labor and mortared together with gelatin, animal blood, and sand, this monumental structure was never finished or used.
Orchid, found along the path to the citadel. Picked by our guide, much to our chagrin.
Starfish menace. Bryan is not usually such a threat to wildlife. Can't take him anywhere.
(published by Sharon, through Bryan's account)
A few highlights from last week:
Kay Henri Christophe ("House of Henri Christophe"), the palace that the second leader of Haiti built for himself. It was destroyed by an earthquake and is now in the process of being restored.
A very fishing place, as someone described it the other day. These guys were using a home-stitched sail in a bay just north of Ft. Liberte.
The Citadel, also built by Christophe. It was meant to be a refuge for Haitians should the enslaving French ever invade again. Built with conscripted labor and mortared together with gelatin, animal blood, and sand, this monumental structure was never finished or used.
Orchid, found along the path to the citadel. Picked by our guide, much to our chagrin.
Starfish menace. Bryan is not usually such a threat to wildlife. Can't take him anywhere.
(published by Sharon, through Bryan's account)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
On food and eating
Since eating is such a major part of each day, I thought I'd devote a post to describing Haitian cuisine as we have known it so far.
Like many North Americans, Haitians eat three meals a day, which are called (in translation, of course) food, big food, and food. Breakfast, eaten between 6:00 and 8:30 am, has usually been one of the following:
-An egg sandwich
-Coffee and white bread
-Mangoes, avocados, and cassava bread
-Peanut butter and bread
-Spaghetti
(Why spaghetti? Why breakfast? Why eat it with mayonnaise and ketchup? I'll try to get to the bottom of this.)
Lunch ("gwo manje" or big food), served between 1:00 and 5:00 pm, is usually:
-Rice, bean sauce, avocado, and freshly-squeezed limeade
-Rice, meat sauce, avocado, and juice
-Rice, fish sauce, avocado, and juice
-Cornmeal with vegetables and a tomato-based sauce
On Sundays there's a special soup (also eaten on January 1, Haitian Independence Day), that is really delicious. I'm not sure exactly what is in it, but it tastes sort of like a creamy squash soup with onions and cabbage. It's super good.
Dinner ("soupe"), served anytime after 7:30 pm, could include:
-Ginger tea and white bread
-Peanut butter and cassava crackers
-"Bouye," which is a highly-sweetened porridge made of flour boiled with star anise, cloves, and cinnamon.
We've been surprised at how sweet the food is in general. Haitians are not shy about adding sugar to anything.
I've actually had a few cooking lessons this week. I've learned how to:
-Mill corn
-Mill beans
-Sort through and clean rice
-Pound spices (in addition to the ones listed above, popular spices are garlic, scallions, and hot peppers. Alexis got a big laugh when she asked about adding ginger to the mix. Apparently ginger is only for making tea, not for cooking.)
-Prepare greens for cooking (unfortunately for me, this meant adding chunks of pork in with the spices, rendering the delicious greens summarily inedible)
Has it been difficult, you ask, to avoid eating meat? Not so far. Most meals are served in sections, so it's pretty easy to avoid the plate of meat. I've sort of adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy when it comes to sauces, though. I have to admit that I did eat a chunk of meat served to me by our host-mother, because she gave it to me specifically and specially. Fortunately it didn't do too much damage to my digestive system.
Oh, the kitchen! We've seen two so far, in the homes of our two host families. One has a charcoal stove that looks like a metal tray on legs, and one has a gas stove with an oven (curiously, used for food storage) that looks like the usual North American ones. One has a double set of sinks with cold water taps, and the other relies on buckets of water toted from one of the many fresh streams running through this town. Both have a supply of plastic mugs, metal cups, and plastic serving trays for carrying the food to the table.
Bryan and I are both looking forward to being able to cook for ourselves once we move to Desarmes. There's a lot of good food available locally, and I think we'll be able to make some pretty interesting meals once we can experiment in the kitchen.
Like many North Americans, Haitians eat three meals a day, which are called (in translation, of course) food, big food, and food. Breakfast, eaten between 6:00 and 8:30 am, has usually been one of the following:
-An egg sandwich
-Coffee and white bread
-Mangoes, avocados, and cassava bread
-Peanut butter and bread
-Spaghetti
(Why spaghetti? Why breakfast? Why eat it with mayonnaise and ketchup? I'll try to get to the bottom of this.)
Lunch ("gwo manje" or big food), served between 1:00 and 5:00 pm, is usually:
-Rice, bean sauce, avocado, and freshly-squeezed limeade
-Rice, meat sauce, avocado, and juice
-Rice, fish sauce, avocado, and juice
-Cornmeal with vegetables and a tomato-based sauce
On Sundays there's a special soup (also eaten on January 1, Haitian Independence Day), that is really delicious. I'm not sure exactly what is in it, but it tastes sort of like a creamy squash soup with onions and cabbage. It's super good.
Dinner ("soupe"), served anytime after 7:30 pm, could include:
-Ginger tea and white bread
-Peanut butter and cassava crackers
-"Bouye," which is a highly-sweetened porridge made of flour boiled with star anise, cloves, and cinnamon.
We've been surprised at how sweet the food is in general. Haitians are not shy about adding sugar to anything.
I've actually had a few cooking lessons this week. I've learned how to:
-Mill corn
-Mill beans
-Sort through and clean rice
-Pound spices (in addition to the ones listed above, popular spices are garlic, scallions, and hot peppers. Alexis got a big laugh when she asked about adding ginger to the mix. Apparently ginger is only for making tea, not for cooking.)
-Prepare greens for cooking (unfortunately for me, this meant adding chunks of pork in with the spices, rendering the delicious greens summarily inedible)
Has it been difficult, you ask, to avoid eating meat? Not so far. Most meals are served in sections, so it's pretty easy to avoid the plate of meat. I've sort of adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy when it comes to sauces, though. I have to admit that I did eat a chunk of meat served to me by our host-mother, because she gave it to me specifically and specially. Fortunately it didn't do too much damage to my digestive system.
Oh, the kitchen! We've seen two so far, in the homes of our two host families. One has a charcoal stove that looks like a metal tray on legs, and one has a gas stove with an oven (curiously, used for food storage) that looks like the usual North American ones. One has a double set of sinks with cold water taps, and the other relies on buckets of water toted from one of the many fresh streams running through this town. Both have a supply of plastic mugs, metal cups, and plastic serving trays for carrying the food to the table.
Bryan and I are both looking forward to being able to cook for ourselves once we move to Desarmes. There's a lot of good food available locally, and I think we'll be able to make some pretty interesting meals once we can experiment in the kitchen.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Where oh where is my bike?
Well, to be truthful I do own several bikes back in the U.S., but right now I don't have one. As we drive around, all I look for are bikes. Not just any bike, but the "needle in the haystack" bike. After seeing a few hundred Huffies, Magnas, and Pacifics I've been able to spot a few non-Wal- mart bikes. These are truly rare--and if the brake cables and derailleurs are still attached, that is an amazing bonus. Most bikes here are missing brakes, have the chain locked into one gear, and have a pretty rad BMX handlebar addition...true cruisers. In Port-au-Prince, there aren't many bikes as the hills are killer--think San Francisco with potholes and/or no pavement. Other, flatter, towns have more bikes, and that is where my search will go when I can actually buy a bike.
This is not anything earth shattering, but bikes were a big part of my previous life and I hope to bike again....I'm thinking of a nice simple fixed-gear to blend in (bike with no gears/brakes). I just need some big tough tires and an expensive (eek!) fixed gear hub, but maybe not...it would be fun, though. Until next time.
Bryan
This is not anything earth shattering, but bikes were a big part of my previous life and I hope to bike again....I'm thinking of a nice simple fixed-gear to blend in (bike with no gears/brakes). I just need some big tough tires and an expensive (eek!) fixed gear hub, but maybe not...it would be fun, though. Until next time.
Bryan
Monday, August 18, 2008
Live from Okap...
We were invited to speak on the radio in Cape Haitian yesterday! This is how it happened: Ari, one of our "orienters" this month, is in a commercial promoting a Buy Local campaign that airs on national television in Haiti. We were in a little sandwich shop having lunch when Ari was recognized by several local radio personalities who happened to be there, and they invited him to appear on their show and talk about the campaign. As an added bonus, the Depps (fellow MCCers), Bryan and I were asked to give our impressions of Haiti as foreigners.
We were uncomfortable with the idea at first. Several times we've been asked to describe our preconceptions about Haiti (and most of the news we had heard was negative) and then talk about how those preconceptions changed after arriving here. We wondered if it was really constructive and beneficial for Haitians to hear that Americans sometimes think of Haiti as a dirty and dangerous place. And we wondered about the truthfulness of saying something like "We heard that Haiti was very dirty, but we arrived and the people are so nice!" The people have been very nice to us (incredibly, unbelievably, so, if you consider the history of U.S. involvement in this country), but that doesn't actually cancel out the fact that there is sometimes trash in the streets. How could we answer the question in an uplifting way but also speak truthfully about the situation?
We took these concerns to Ari, who assured us that it's helpful for Haitians to hear what Americans think of them because they don't often get the chance to see themselves in a mirror; our reflections could prompt them to change. We pressed him on whether many Haitians feel that way or if that is just his personal opinion, and he again assured us that it's a common attitude. This convinced us enough to go on the radio.
It was a lot more low-key than we were expecting. (One of the hosts got up to take a cell phone call in the middle of our conversation!) Five of us joined Ari in the studio: me, Bryan, Alexis (fellow MCCer), Jinia (one of our kreyol tutors), and Tikam (Ari's niece). We didn't have much of a dialog with the radio hosts, but basically we tried to say:
Yes, there are many negative things that we hear about Haiti in the U.S., but there are many positive things as well. I said that I'd heard a lot about Haiti's culture--music, art, storytelling--and in coming here I've found that Haitians are indeed creative and resourceful in many ways. Bryan also pointed out that most of the news we hear, about Haiti or otherwise, is often negative. (That's what makes it news, right?)
I also think that it's a really interesting time to be in Haiti. There's a groundswell of interest in local production, which could potentially move the economy forward in ways that are beneficial to many people. I'm also amazed at how hopeful many Haitians are, and at how much they love Haiti. I know it sounds cheesy, but the people here are really one of the country's greatest resources. They've got a lot going for them.
Hurricane ...what hurricane?
Well, news doesn't travel fast here in Haiti. Upon returning from our trip to Cape Haitian, we read our e-mails of storm warnings and hurricanes and we knew nothing was even threatening the island. I believe we were hiking / 4x4 trucking to a fort called the Citadel during this tropical storm, and I do remember saying to Sharon, "this could be a hurricane for all we know; we haven't seen the news for 3 weeks"--and it seems like I was more right than I thought.
Our trip to O'kap (as they call it) went well. We visited some historical areas which are a source of great pride for Haitians. If you know it or not, they were the first independent country in the Americas and fought very very hard for that independence. The Citadel was built to defend their freedom; after 14 years of construction the king died and the Citadel was never finished and never used as a means of defense.
We also had the chance to dip our toes in the Caribbean waters and swim a little bit, and we found starfish, crabs, and all sort of sea life right by the shore. Something that made me chuckle was the name of our hotel: the "Gros Bebe," which in French is the Big/Fat Baby, and in Haiti means that you are cute as a baby. On the downside, most of us got sick; they say it's Haiti getting into us and that everyone gets sick when they come....great. We're better now after a day of rest.
To give you a little idea of our trip, there was 7 of us in a 4 door pick-up, 3 up front and 4 in the back. Imagine the worst roads you've been on and multiply by 10 or so. The four of us in the back jostled around for about 7 hours each way, sometimes whacking our heads against the window because the car shook so much. I emerged with a bruise on my hip from all the bumps....these are seriously potholed roads.
My new dilemma is what to do when you are asked for money. In the U.S., I got used to ignoring people asking for money, but now these people really need money--its still awkward. White folks are called "blan" here, and every once in awhile a young boy will see you and say, "Blan, give me some money!" It's hard to blame them, as most Americans come so they can give things away (money, food, clothes, medicine) with the best intentions, but it has created an impression that all blans are wealthy and have things to give away. This opens up a whole can of worms. I shouldn't go too far now in my personal impressions of Haiti; maybe after a year of two I can more accurately describe it, but for now I am merely an observer in my third week of living in Haiti.
Our trip to O'kap (as they call it) went well. We visited some historical areas which are a source of great pride for Haitians. If you know it or not, they were the first independent country in the Americas and fought very very hard for that independence. The Citadel was built to defend their freedom; after 14 years of construction the king died and the Citadel was never finished and never used as a means of defense.
We also had the chance to dip our toes in the Caribbean waters and swim a little bit, and we found starfish, crabs, and all sort of sea life right by the shore. Something that made me chuckle was the name of our hotel: the "Gros Bebe," which in French is the Big/Fat Baby, and in Haiti means that you are cute as a baby. On the downside, most of us got sick; they say it's Haiti getting into us and that everyone gets sick when they come....great. We're better now after a day of rest.
To give you a little idea of our trip, there was 7 of us in a 4 door pick-up, 3 up front and 4 in the back. Imagine the worst roads you've been on and multiply by 10 or so. The four of us in the back jostled around for about 7 hours each way, sometimes whacking our heads against the window because the car shook so much. I emerged with a bruise on my hip from all the bumps....these are seriously potholed roads.
My new dilemma is what to do when you are asked for money. In the U.S., I got used to ignoring people asking for money, but now these people really need money--its still awkward. White folks are called "blan" here, and every once in awhile a young boy will see you and say, "Blan, give me some money!" It's hard to blame them, as most Americans come so they can give things away (money, food, clothes, medicine) with the best intentions, but it has created an impression that all blans are wealthy and have things to give away. This opens up a whole can of worms. I shouldn't go too far now in my personal impressions of Haiti; maybe after a year of two I can more accurately describe it, but for now I am merely an observer in my third week of living in Haiti.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The art of the question
When I was preparing to come to Haiti, I had a lot of questions about Haiti's art scene. Given that the arts are often the first to lose funding in the U.S., I wondered what keeps the creative drive alive in a culture that faces so many material challenges. Over the last few days, we've had the opportunity to explore several different genres: metalworking, music, painting, beadworking, sculpture, dance, and woodworking.
The first artisans we visited were primarily commercial, and I wondered if the answer to my question of what vitalizes the arts here is simply the fact that it can be lucrative. (I'm not sure if it's still true, but at one point Haitians were producing handcrafts that were sold throughout the Caribbean.) Is money truly what keeps creativity alive, when it comes down to the essence of survival?
However--and quite fortunately--it turns out that Haiti is not a land of easy answers. The joy of creation has been more than evident in the work of several of the artists we've met here, and it seems that art is alive and well beyond the marketplace.
This is a rather simplistic outline of the question, but I've again run out of computer time...and I again welcome your thoughts on the matter.
The first artisans we visited were primarily commercial, and I wondered if the answer to my question of what vitalizes the arts here is simply the fact that it can be lucrative. (I'm not sure if it's still true, but at one point Haitians were producing handcrafts that were sold throughout the Caribbean.) Is money truly what keeps creativity alive, when it comes down to the essence of survival?
However--and quite fortunately--it turns out that Haiti is not a land of easy answers. The joy of creation has been more than evident in the work of several of the artists we've met here, and it seems that art is alive and well beyond the marketplace.
This is a rather simplistic outline of the question, but I've again run out of computer time...and I again welcome your thoughts on the matter.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Gwo Jean
So, we are still here in Gwo Jan. We are near Port au Prince but it feels very rural, with pigs, chickens, goats, etc. all roaming about. This past weekend we hiked to the top of a mountain--and we now know Haiti is all mountains. So going "up" the mountain mean going up and down almost equally to finally go....up. We relaxed at a guest house at the top and hung out with our new MCC co-workers playing a made-up version of Apples to Apples with our own words. The hike itself took about 4 hours each way and we were chased by storm clouds both up and down, and were finally caught in a downpour on our way "down" (read: going up mostly). We saw a nice forested area at the top with streams and waterfalls; overall, it was a really pretty place. (And we had a great time in all, despite the fact that Sharon was sick all night long on Saturday...there's nothing like trying to sleep in a tent with a dozen people around and having to get up every hour to vomit. Fun. She's better now, though.)
Since Monday we've been back at Gwo Jan with daily trips to Port au Prince. Today we wandered around a bit to see fair trade woodworkers and a supplier for 10,000 Villages. The day was exhausting even though we did nothing but sit and listen mostly, but I guess it is "trying" to listen and understand that is exhausting. For me personally (Bryan) the language training is difficult. I feel like I've been given the keys to drive after never seeing a car before and getting only a Cliff Notes version of drivers ed. I get really frustrated and just need to calm down and not be so hard on myself, but I feel like I should be learning faster, which makes it hard to calm down.
We are also having a "homestay" which means sleeping and eating with a family in the village. We've only been there for one night so far, so I can't give an average day's account as of yet, but maybe in the next post I will. Our schedule is mostly unknown to us, but I do know we are going to Cap Haitian on the 14th--so pull out your maps and check it out.
Since Monday we've been back at Gwo Jan with daily trips to Port au Prince. Today we wandered around a bit to see fair trade woodworkers and a supplier for 10,000 Villages. The day was exhausting even though we did nothing but sit and listen mostly, but I guess it is "trying" to listen and understand that is exhausting. For me personally (Bryan) the language training is difficult. I feel like I've been given the keys to drive after never seeing a car before and getting only a Cliff Notes version of drivers ed. I get really frustrated and just need to calm down and not be so hard on myself, but I feel like I should be learning faster, which makes it hard to calm down.
We are also having a "homestay" which means sleeping and eating with a family in the village. We've only been there for one night so far, so I can't give an average day's account as of yet, but maybe in the next post I will. Our schedule is mostly unknown to us, but I do know we are going to Cap Haitian on the 14th--so pull out your maps and check it out.
Friday, August 1, 2008
At last
After several significant delays--a cancelled flight in Miami with an airline-sponsored hotel night, waiting forever for luggage to appear--we finally emerged intact from the airport in Port-au-Prince. In Haiti at last! We visited with the MCC personnel in the main office, then were whisked away to a guest house in a small town nearby called Gwo Jan. The town is very hilly and green; we've seen mango, papaya, sugar cane, and grapefruit, among other things. Here we are studying Creole and meeting lots of people (and technically we're not permitted to use English during these first few weeks, so you'll have to forgive me here).
Our room, outside and in:
Showers:
View of a neighboring house from the balcony:
Tomorrow morning we're supposed to get up at 4:00 a.m. (apparently I'm expected to turn into a completely new person!) and meet the other MCCers to hike up a nearby mountain and camp overnight. It's supposed to be quite beautiful.
Speaking of becoming a completely new person, "Sharon" sounds like "smelly, rotten" in Creole, so they have asked me to go by my middle name instead. "Joy" it is for the next 3 years. I hope I can remember to answer to that when I hear it!
Pictures to come--we're in the midst of a ten-minute break in our Creole lesson, so we'll post photos when we have a little more time.
Love,
us
Our room, outside and in:
Showers:
View of a neighboring house from the balcony:
Tomorrow morning we're supposed to get up at 4:00 a.m. (apparently I'm expected to turn into a completely new person!) and meet the other MCCers to hike up a nearby mountain and camp overnight. It's supposed to be quite beautiful.
Speaking of becoming a completely new person, "Sharon" sounds like "smelly, rotten" in Creole, so they have asked me to go by my middle name instead. "Joy" it is for the next 3 years. I hope I can remember to answer to that when I hear it!
Pictures to come--we're in the midst of a ten-minute break in our Creole lesson, so we'll post photos when we have a little more time.
Love,
us
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