Bon Fet Drapo!

Happy Flag Day!

Yesterday was one of Haiti's national holidays, and lots of people spent the day off doing this:

(Forgive the last-minute drive-by photo of this much-better-in-real-life parade)

We instead headed with Alexis and our friend Megan to the lake at Tomasek:

After a little negotiation, we rented two (ridiculously rickety) boats with two pole-men each and set out against the wind.

Bryan, about to fearlessly risk life and limb in our little watercraft. (While he and I crushed to the left to keep the boat balanced and one man poled us along, the other bailed water. With his sandal. )

Ben is still laid up with a busted knee and couldn't come, but Alexis and Megan made a handsome duo in the second boat:

They had a third Haitian man in their boat, which caused no small amount of distress for the man poling our boat along. I'm not sure why he was complaining to us.

Despite my constant fear of capsizing, it was wholly pleasant to be out on the water with the breeze blowing and no one around:

Well, horses and...

Yes! Flamingos!

I've always thought that flamingos were a little cheesy, but it turns out they're much more impressive in real life. Despite their gangliness, and the outrageous pinkness of them, they were breathtaking.

By far one of the most beautiful things we've seen in Haiti. Wings down.

Addendum: click through to Alexis's blog post for more photos and details about the bird itself.

En route

Over the past few days we've been busily preparing for our trip home to the U.S. for the Christmas season (yay!). Mostly things went smoothly, but there were a few little hiccups:

Leaving Dezam on Monday, we were all set. Our bags were packed, the house was cleaned, the worms were fed with hopefully enough food (but not too much) to tide them over the next few weeks, and Jides was all lined up to water our plants. We even brought a motorcycle with us in the truck to Port-au-Prince, knowing that the vehicles in Port would be few and far between. Everything was set. Almost.

The first hiccup was Jean-Remy telling us - halfway to Port - that he wasn't staying there until Wednesday (the day of our flight) as originally planned, so he couldn't drive us to the airport. Also, the motorcycle he was going to take back with him now needed to go back on Tuesday afternoon. Okay, sigh. Let's try to find another vehicle and someone to take us the airport.

The second hiccup came when we were using the motorcycle to run some errands after reaching the Port office on Tuesday. Within 15 feet of leaving the office, I ran over a seemingly innocuous black pile of dust...which turned out to be the remnants of a burnt tire. Unfortunately, this was a steel-belted tire - and by "belts" I mean hundreds of steel wires embedded in the tire that hadn't burned away with the rubber, a mass of which entangled in our rear wheel. The rear sprocket looked like a perfectly executed moto-destruction weapon. Fortunately, a passerby found some wire cutters for us and we cut and pulled until it looked like we could escape, so we did.

We made our way to the street and onto the main road, which was clogged with traffic. I slowly drive up the hill...until 5 cops caught up to me on foot and demanded that I pull over. Hiccup. Apparently, my license is bad, I don't have the right motorcycle designation, hiccup, I don't have the registration, hiccup, and the license plate is the "old" kind. Apparently, hiccup. Kurt came to our rescue and talked them out of confiscating the motorcycle and my license. Shockingly, we were allowed to leave, sans bribe, sans problem - just don't use the moto again until it's legal. OK.

Tuesday night we were presented with a pleasant hiccup, if such a thing is possible. Joel and Rachel invited us to their house for dinner, and we also got to go to the surprise birthday party of a new friend's fiance (two social activities in one night, wow!). We had fun watching a very stubborn pinata get whacked while cries of excitement and laughter floated up from the Haitian guests. After that we hotfooted it over to Joel and Rachel's and had a great night eating pizza (thanks!) and talking about all sorts of things. It was totally great, since we never have dinner with people in Dezam and never ever ever have two things to do in one night.

Our last hiccup came this morning as we left around 10am for the airport to catch our our 1pm flight. Usually this drive takes about 20 minutes, so as we sat in traffic, cars inching along, we started to sweat. Alexis, our intrepid chauffeur, was driving fast-and-furiously (okay, mostly slowly but still furiously) and managed to get us around a roadblock and to the airport about an hour before our flight. That's a little too close for comfort given that things in Haiti can sometimes (read: usually) get complicated. We got in through security, through check-in and another security point, and we started to calm down. Once inside, we bumped into not one but two friends who were also on their way home for the holidays.

So here we are safe and sound in Ft. Lauderdale, taking advantage of nice and fast and free wireless internet, a live band playing jazzy tunes about 15 feet from us, coffee, pizza, and English. On a super happy note, our only checked bag was the first to emerge from the luggage carousel, (when does that happen?) and when we got to the torturous customs check they waved us through (again, when does this happen?), which means we did not have to unpack and show each and every one of our stashed Haitian goodies.

This might be the last post for a little while as we will be seeing most of you shortly. Once we are back in the land of eternal summer we hope to return to posting frequently posts.

Merry Christmas! (hopefully without hiccups)

Fet Dezam

I hope everyone has recovered from last night!

If you forgot, yesterday/today is Fet Dezam (Desarmes's founding anniversary, even though there was no mention of how old Desarmes is). It's almost like New Year's in the fact that the big day is the night before and the actual day of is a quieter day when people sleep in a bit and recover from a night of music, gambling, eating, and drinking.

Actually, the party has been happening almost every night for the past 10 days or so. What this means is that the road gets blocked off and traffic gets diverted to side streets (read: dirt roads with no signs) while in the main road they make a little soccer field by painting lines on the pavement and making some tiny goals with no goalkeeper. This game is called ti kan - I think that means "little camp," but there must be another translation because that doesn't really make much sense. Anyhow, a stage was erected, speakers and stereo equipment were brought in, and generators and gas seemed to be in abundance.

We went out last weekend with Matt and Gabriela and bought "juice": the options were breadfruit, manioc, banana (all with spaghetti mixed in, of course) and the best-sounding but unfortunately elusive papaya. Hot dogs were on the grills, and snacks were everywhere - patè, marinad, banan peze, and grillo (hot pockets, fried dough, smashed fried plantain, and fried/grilled meat). There were also many tables selling klerin (raw rum, about 78% alcohol) mixed with juice or milk. We tried to watch the ti kan match, but unless you were right at the fence it was very difficult to see over the heads of the other spectators.

Last night we went back out around 7pm since it was the Big Night. (Trust me, Fet Dezam is bigger than Christmas: "When's Christmas again? Oh right,the 25th.") The sound was incredible! There was also a wake with a generator (= loud music) and the Vodou version of the party (= drumming and dancing and singing). The main stage featured a DJ spinning Haitian rap and konpa (= people standing around hoping to watch other people dance but no one actually dancing). We walked around for a little while, and then went to Jean-Remy and Gerda's store and hung out for a few hours eating fried food and watching vehicles trying to follow the detour and make their way through the crowd. We called it a night around 9pm, ate leftover soup, read, and went to bed with the music thumping us to sleep.

Today the Catholic church celebrates the anniversary of some St. Francis (not Assisi - that was clear - but I'm not sure which saint this is. Maybe Xavier?). That celebration features about 12 priests from all over, a lot of food, and a 4-hour service. We checked it out but couldn't find a seat, so we didn't stay very long.

Maybe I should just think of Fet Dezam as preparation for New Year's Eve as I am getting out of the habit of staying awake past midnight - but that's what Red Bull is for, right?

Thanksgiving redux.

Well, although yesterday was not a Haitian holiday, Bryan and I did things up in style anyway:


Eggplant Parmesan! Edamame! Pie! Yum!


Since our suppers are usually one-pot wonders, we were both overstuffed after eating dinner and sampling this faux-apple pie made with a local vegefruit called meleton:


In lieu of sharing our table with anyone this year, Harvey and Reginald kept us company:

The meal was delicious and pushed us into Thanksgiving food comas, but the best part of the afternoon was being able to talk with family at home. Hi everyone! See you in a few weeks.

A honey of a day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

No, it's not a holiday in Haiti, but it's hard to shake a day like that from your psyche after celebrating it for a few decades. Say hi to a turkey for us.

Anyway, the most exciting thing happening this week is that the bees who had been living in MCC's storage shed for the past six weeks were finally moved to their own home by Miguel, a local miel-man. (The other beekeeper in Dezam is named Millefleur. Amazing.) Miguel got stung about 30 times, but we got to enjoy the fruits of his labor:

(I will admit that the little dead bee-grubs you can see there are not that appetizing. I think I'll stick with our refillable bottle of cleaned honey.)

When was the last time you chomped down on a sweet piece of fresh beeswax? It tastes better than those weird little candies that still linger in some grocery stores, but the mouth-feel is similar.

Bon appétit!

Happy November 18!

What, you didn't know today is Fèt Batay Vètyè, the day that commemorates the last battle of the Haitian Revolution? Time to brush up on some Haitian history:

- On this day in 1803, Jean-Jacques Dessalines led Haitian forces to victory against the French at their fort in Vertières, near Cap-Haitian in the north.

- Because of this blow to the French forces, the Haitians were able to declare independence a mere six weeks later: Haitian Independence Day is celebrated on January 1 and is the biggest holiday of the year.

- Whether Haitians actually achieved their independence in 1804 appears to be a matter of ongoing debate. In 2005 Fondasyon 30 Septanm argued that
"Just as Napoleon's Army in 1803 was a multinational army with soldiers from many European countries, so today's MINUSTAH, the UN army, is composed of soldiers from Jordan, Chile, the US, France, Canada and 15 other countries -- with the same objective, to crush the aspirations of the Haitian people and re-establish colonial rule. The Haitian people have the opposite objective -- to complete the liberation begun on November 18, 1803. That's why Haiti Liberation Day is so relevant today, and why we are encouraging demonstrations, teach-ins or other activities on or around November 18th."
I'm not totally sure I agree with this perspective, but MINUSTAH's mandate in Haiti is one that surely merits attention and further questions.

- As far as we can tell, no one in Dezam is doing much to celebrate, other than taking the day off. We are marking the occasion by sleeping in, making lots of yummy food, and catching up on various odds jobs.

- More productively, Amnesty International is honoring the spirit of independence by launching a campaign pressing the Haitian government to end child slavery and protect the rights of child domestic workers throughout the country. The restavek system is a major human rights issue in Haiti - let's hope this campaign helps make a difference. (Isn't it almost 2010? Shouldn't we all be alarmed that this type of problem still exists in the world?)

Sojourning in a Lent time

Always a meaningful time of year for me, the forty days of Lent are a period in which to experience the starless night that comes before the Easter dawn. Fasting provides an impetus to identify and forgo distracting habits in favor of meditation on the divine, to mirror the sacrifice Christ embodied on the cross. Lenten fasting is beyond the level of a New Year’s resolution; temporarily denying a physical desire symbolizes our yearning for the redemption of the world. It exacts flesh from flesh, the very nature of the thing. As Christ set his face toward Jerusalem, we too look forward to the moment of salvation. We wait. We wait.

Now, during our first Lent in Haiti, during such a defined period in my life (how often do we see 3 years so clearly?), I find myself thinking about the nature of sacrifice. What does one ever hope to get out of voluntary sacrifice? Pride in being able to say, I did it? A heightened appreciation for what is later restored? I’m torn between saying that I haven’t sacrificed anything in coming to Haiti (living here is much easier than I thought it would be; all our basic needs are met, I go through most days with an unflappable sense of physical security, and we have the opportunity to do something wildly interesting) and in voicing my loneliness, the personal sacrifice of giving up ready friends, visits with family, and the security of a familiar home culture. The things I’m missing cut close.

Somewhere in my soul is the conviction that sacrifice will teach me something I couldn’t learn otherwise, the hope that pushing through temporary discomfort will make me a stronger person. Sacrifice in search of the unexpected, a growth period that will allow me to shoot off in a new direction. Just as rules make a game possible, sacrifice is essential to abundance. I choose to see Lent as time given with expectation, balancing now and soon. Not lightly present. Borrowed time.

Oh...the places you will go.

- or the places you will have been. We just wrapped up a whopping 10 days away from "home" with Kànaval celebrations, a 5-day trip to the D.R. with our team, and a few days lounging at the beach in Labadee/Cap Haitien in the north.

Kànaval

Nothing but the biggest celebration to hit the Catholic world each year, Kànaval is the last great splash before Lent begins. In Haiti it's a break from daily routine, a chance to fe dezòd (go a little crazy), and an amazing marketing opportunity for Haitian companies. Since this is our first year, we decided to head south to the annual parade in Jacmel (usually a week earlier than the rest), a town known for elaborate papier-mâche costumery:

Our working hypothesis is that things creative in Haiti are usually
political or religious. Yes, that is a MINUSTAH man getting mauled by a tiger.

The team's excursion
The morning after we returned from Jacmel, we loaded our team into the "bus," as Sharon likes to call it (our Toyota Landcruiser; it seats 12 Americans or about 20 Haitians) and set out on the much-anticipated trip to the D.R. For 4 of our teammates, this would be the first time they left Haiti. (Last minute maneuverings: we still didn't have Fritzner's visa – it was dropped off at the Dominican embassy for processing, and was supposed to be ready the morning of our trip. Luckily for him, it was.) Our frontier crossing went off without a hitch, even though we were stopped at SEVEN police checkpoints after we entered the country. Does the same thing happens in the U.S. along the Mexico border, or is this just really over the top? A lot of Haitians do cross the border illegally to find work, so I guess this is the Dominican way to catch them. Still. Some of these checkpoints were only a mile apart from each other.

11 hours after leaving Desarmes we arrived in Piedra Blanca, home base of Floresta, a reforestation program actually working on both halves of the island. They have had amazing success working with the Dominican government, which has made reforestation a national priority. (Tourism is booming, and tourists would much rather see trees than bare burnt earth and some cacti.) We toured eucalyptus and cacao forests, and also checked out Floresta’s agricultural work: oregano, cilantro, and pineapple fields.

Pineapple.

Jean, looking both studious and majestic.

Chocolate in the wild.

Learning about organic fertilizer with Rafael, a Floresta agriculturalist.

Our last day was spent taking in the sights of Santo Domingo. The best part for us was listening to the reactions of our Haitian co-workers:

Fritzner screaming to Frantzo, “Look! a road over our heads!” as we went under an overpass.

Nahomie whispering, Mezanmi! (“Oh my gosh!”) as the gate lifted after we dropped in our toll. (Tolls!)

Total silence as we drove past a big TV billboard; they sat enraptured.

It was a little sad for us that things that are so routine for us (and are actually nearly outmoded – who doesn’t have EZ-Pass?) were so remarkable to them. We so admire the bravery and persistence of Haitians in just living, but feel frustrated that it has to be that way – but we’ll leave the complexities of development for another post.

Labadee/Cap Haitian (Okap)

We decided to hop off the bus in Port, as we had decided to use the 5-day Kànaval weekend to take the bus south to Les Cayes to visit a friend. At the last minute, we were made an offer we couldn't refuse. Kurt (our new Country Representative – hooray!) and his girlfriend Hillary were headed north to the beach at Labadee and to check out Kànaval in Okap. The huge advantages for us: we wouldn’t have to sit on buses for hours, we could check out a place we’ve heard is unmissably great, and they could drop us off at our doorstep afterwards. We're in.

The town of Labadee is pretty much owned by Royal Caribbean; they’ve fenced off a section of the beach as a huge tropical tourist playground. Since we were not guests of Royal Caribbean (we stayed at a beautiful fort-turned-hotel with a little beach) we were not able to access this wonderland, but gawked Haitian-style at the cruise ships that arrived in the bay each day. They’re huge!

The ethereal mosquito net in our hotel room. See the greenery
outside? And the fan in the corner? That's a little slice of heaven.

Our "roommate": an intrepid hermit crab.

The next day we took the boat taxi back to Cap Haitian for Kànaval. To give you a sense of what this is like in Port-au-Prince, thousands of glitter-covered Okappers dancing in the streets to the loudest music ever is considered pretty tame. It was fun to see everyone enjoying themselves, taking one day to dance away sorrows.

Returning home was bittersweet: we love to travel, but living out of a bag gets old after a week or so. Hello, garden! Hello, home cooking! We missed you.

Jwaye Nwel!

We spent our first Christmas in Haiti in Port-au-Prince with the Depps and other friends - although not our Haitian friends, since Christmas is not that big a deal in Haitian culture. On Christmas morning we gave a ride to one of our Haitian partners as we headed to the city:
Bryan: Are you doing anything for Christmas?
Alain: Yes, but not tonight. I'm doing something on the 31st.
But that's New Year's, of course...

Click here for photos.

We're currently in the Dominican Republic, enjoying a few much-needed days at the beach. More when we return!

Crèche, Haitian style

Because Christmas is nearly invisible in Desarmes (business as usual, endlessly sunny weather), I'm especially glad to have this crèche we picked up at a craft fair a few months ago:


There are lots of things to love about it. The way the wise man's belly shows while his arm steadies the load on his head:


All these other characters:

Who are they? I'm not sure, but to me it seems totally Haitian to have a bunch of people standing around watching whatever is happening. "We can't not look," as Jean-Remy says. And really: where would be a better place to show up and check things out than the infamous stable in Bethlehem?

I love that Joseph is holding a flower:

It seems much more fitting than the lanterns or staffs the Josephs of my childhood always held. It's like he's offering a gift of his own.

And I must admit, I love that Jesus looks like a little cracker-topper. It's probably about as close to a holiday-party canapè as we'll get this year.

Thanksgiving.....in Haiti.

Sometimes you forget which holidays are American and which holidays are worldwide. Thanksgiving is an American holiday (in case you have forgotten - a few people asked us how they celebrate Thanksgiving in Haiti).

We've also made several assumptions about Christmas that turned out to be wrong (e.g., you don't work on Christmas). We almost lost Christmas this week - Sharon and I are supposed to go along on a teacher's outing to another part of Haiti, a trip originally scheduled for December 22-24. On Monday the environmental education team extended the trip to return the morning of the 25th. No one else seemed to mind, though we attempted to change the date:

Sharon: Is Christmas not a big holiday here?
Fritzner, one of our coworkers: Oh yes, it's very big.
Sharon: Then how is it possible to schedule work for that day?
Fritzner: Oh, it's no problem.
Sharon (referencing the biggest holiday in Haiti): So if we were scheduled to come back on December 31, and we extended one day...
Fritzner, chuckling: No, that's impossible. We couldn't do that. January 1 is a big holiday.

What could we do? We're trying to be culturally flexible, so we shrugged our shoulders and had a tinge of resentment as Christmas was canceled for us. But as we sat in our weekly team meeting and discussed the calender for December, our director raised his eyebrows as he heard the new date. He's scheduled to go on this outing as well, but (fortunately!) he's also planning to go to Christmas Eve Mass at 6pm on the 24th and needs to be back before Christmas Day. So, in short, he saved Christmas for us.

Back to Thanksgiving. We started assembling our Haitian vegetarian Thanksgiving menu a few days before the 27th. We went to the market and bought all that we needed: pumpkins, onions, potatoes, meloton, etc. Our menu consisted of pumpkin soup, freshly-baked rolls, green papaya salad, faux-apple pie (with the meloton), fresh pineapple, and fried plantains. Unfortunately, we were so busy cooking we forgot to take photos.

We had a few visitors from the upper echelons of MCC who are here taking a survey of Haiti's disaster management practices, and we were happy to share our dinner with them (there were even 2 other Americans in the group!). We also Skyped with Sharon's family, who were finally able to see us through the magic of a borrowed computer with a working camera. It still wasn't quite the same as being at home, especially because we were the only people in town celebrating and we worked a full day at the office and were all a bit tired, but it was worth the extra time in the kitchen.

This meal was also the unveiling of our new pressure cooker (!) which should help us stretch our tank of gas every month. One thing that I do find amusing is that we have 4 turkeys who live in the yard we share with our landlord. They are funny birds (although terrifying when perched at eye level and you are walking to the outhouse in the dark and don't see them until the last minute) and I laugh every time I see them walk past our door. Whenever people asked if we were going to eat turkey, I told them it wouldn't have been that difficult. As you might have guessed, there isn't yet a market for tofurkey here!

Before eating, we asked each person to name one thing for which they are thankful for this year. Though we are often frustrated with our life here, we found ourselves genuinely grateful for things like being able to eat food from the backyard (papayas, squash). For friends who are becoming good friends. For the chance to experience life in a culture so totally different from ours (who knew that the other side of the world is just off the coast of Florida?). For family and friends at home who are in our thoughts every day.

Well, I hope everyone in the U.S. had a great Thanksgiving (and Black Friday - get that economy going before we get back in 2011, ha ha).

Happy Holidays,

Bryan