Carnival in July

So in Haiti there is not one Carnival, but two of them... and, to distinguish them, the one that starts today is called Flower Carnival (Carnaval des Fleurs).

This is a bit of what it looks like. Unfortunately I don't have any first hand photos as our organisation doesn't allow us to participate in crowded, outdoor events as this one, but I might get some pictures from a friend that I could share later on...

But not only is it already strange to me that a country with so many difficulties and lack of budget decides to do a massive party when there are so many mouths to feed and bigger things to plan (such as the elections, which are now confirmed to happen in October, after a 3-year delay) - this event is also happening at the same time as another important date, which is much less joyous to remember.

So the government confirmed last week that the Carnival would be from the 27th to 29th July, Monday being a half day at work (for the national staff) and Tuesday full day holiday. Let's try and guess how many sick absences there will be tomorrow morning when we get to the office... :P (half day, really?)

But for the second year now, this popular celebration coincides with an important, not so cheerful event which took place on July 28th 1915. On this date, the American marines landed in Haiti starting a US occupation of the country which would only finish in 1934, so 19 years after. This was, as you can imagine, a period of violence and repression. Different tone to your typical Carnival.

A sociologist mentioned about this that 'Haiti has a particular relation to its historical memory'. Another academic asks if this period of national history is really being studied in the university. And what do Haitian and American researchers think about the American occupation.

Whatever the answers may be and how much the thrill of Carnival can help soften rougher realities, one should not forget that period and it would be good to have frank debates about what it represented to the actuality and future of Haiti.

Forgetting is at least one attempt at not letting history repeat itself. And maybe talking about it could help Haiti's society define better its sort of schizophrenic relationship to the US.

But what do I know... I've only been here for 4 weeks...

hope in a cynical world

Ever since I started this new chapter of my life, which then has brought me here to Haiti, I've been filled with questions. A disarray of them. I'm miles away from not only my original home but also of the several homes I made myself, through time and the generosity of such great people I met along the way.

And I'm not sure at all what I'm here to do. I'm not sure if this new career path is the right one or whether this mission I'm now onto is adding up to where I want to head. I don't really know yet where it's taking me but neither am I absolutely clear of where it is that I really, truly want to go.

And that's ok. That's probably the best setting I could have asked for right now.

Asking questions and living daily in serenity with my questions.

I'm starting to read this book, one which for so long I've meant to read and gotten many great recommendations for. Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke.

It has this wonderful quote somewhere there:

"I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

And today I came into this speech from Jacqueline Novogratz which just fills my heart because at some point her story was so much like mine is unwrapping right now.  

Here's how:

"Three years after starting, I decided to leave the bank and try something different to fill that need.  I had read about Mohammed Yunus who had started making tiny loans to women in Bangladesh a decade earlier – and that inspired me to decide to move to Africa, ultimately, Rwanda, to try my own hand at banking for the poor.
Not surprisingly, it seemed I was the only one I could find who approved of the idea.  My boss told me I was making the worst career decision of my life and gave me a book called the Innocent Anthropologist.  My friends thought I had lost my mind. My little brothers and sisters said they would miss me too much.
Telling my parents, however, was the hardest. Now looking back at what they were going through, I understand. Their daughter, who had a promising career, was leaving Wall Street to move to a continent very few people understood. To a place they couldn’t find on a map. To do something they couldn’t explain to their friends.
But I knew somehow in my deepest being that I had to do it. And that if I didn’t go then, I might never have the guts to do it again.  I also knew how fiercely I loved them and was connected to my family and that I ultimately would not let them down.
And so, with a mix of love, sadness and excited anticipation, I boarded a plane for Africa."
 

"Inspiring hope in a cynical world might be the most radical thing you can possibly do.” Could that really be so?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fSAxFpfodZ8

Beach number 2 and the views while on the car stuck in traffic

So I finally have some more photos to share with you :) Sometime in pretty shitty quality as many were taken from the inside of a dirty window (I now realize).

But it tells the story better than most of my words can.

I let them by the order they chose to appear (who knows why :)), so not exactly the chronological order from us leaving towards the beach, being in the beach and coming back home.

I'll walk you through them.

The first one is called 'the air of Haiti' which I thought was ironic on top of one of their amazingly coulourful buses, with the shape of a high speed train which they don't have and in the usual place of the A/C which that bus certainly doesn't have. Just take a moment to contemplate the artistic windows but also to think how hot the people inside must have been.

This is the coral beach we went last Saturday. Getting up at 7am is worth it sometimes. The different colours of the water show you where the corals are. After the Great Barrier Reef, it was great to swim among tiny fish again :)

 

In the spot where we left the city and where we caught some traffic on the way back there was a small group going for a funeral. Their beautiful suits in that hot day, it was about 9h30 then.

The back of the bus and the usual references to the bible or unashamed love messages to God. In French, English, Creole or Spanish. Doesn't matter as long as it shows your faith. Incredible bus art!

I've been meaning to tell you about this. The number of houses I have seen with the 'to sell' sign and they are like this. Unfinished. Not sure if they were ravaged by the earthquake or another cyclone. Or maybe they ran out of money before finalizing it. Nevertheless, if you are into real estate, this might be a bargain.

Usually houses are scattered everywhere around the hills like this. And the sky is not necessary always blue but still it remains pretty hot. We are approaching the cyclonic season. Still dry but it should change around August.

 

Uncool. This is the reason for many health issues in the country. This is not a river, just a small water diversion. People bathe and wash clothes here. Kids play in this water, even drink it sometimes, or it splashes in their faces, stays in their hands. Water from an unknown source. Most likely from dirty pipes or unkept wells. Dirty water is the cause of suboptimal hygiene and a very fast way to diseases.

I'm not 100% sure but I think this is Mont Jalousie, the 'Jealousy Mountain'. It looks like it. It's a neighbourhood full of colourful houses up in the hill. They are once more poor houses (bidonvilles or slums in English), but colour is definitely a dear trait here in the Caribbean. And I like that.

Your typical landscape just a bit outside the city. So beautiful how you can have this from one side and the beach from the other. I take both please. Thank you.

Haiti is full of open air markets. In fact I think that's about 90% of the commerce and how people buy and sells goods. Of any type. Flexible hours. Can be there one day, the next not. Again, without the minimum sanitary conditions. Lots of hungry dogs trying to find food in the piles of garbage from leftovers or rotten goods. Plastic burning. Water puddles and many with bare feet, no other tap water at hand.

This is our restaurant by the beach. The dish of the place is grilled lobster.

And this was our welcoming view arriving to the beach.

Paix et amour. Peace and love. And that's about all, isn't it?

References to God everywhere. In pharmacies, night clubs, trucks, you name it.

This was at the limit of the city, in Carrefour. It's not all like this at all, but this is also part of the reality.

The tap-tap or the most common transportation means. I still hope to ride on it one day.

Our beach half way through the South. There is a very nice town beyond the mountains. For a weekend though, as it takes even longer to get there.

We even had a canoe there at our disposal :)

Our hospital in the very central, not so quiet neighbourhood of Martissant. Weapons are forbidden inside. In fact, non-guns sign is about everywhere, from our vehicles to the walls of the office or house.

the Caribbean version of things

My life has already changed in some small things and one of them is to realize that there is a version of facts for the Caribbean always. It's in the rythm of life, in the patience when in a traffic jam, in the weekend habit of sun tanning and in the reggae version of songs.

And it's also in small things which cause some frustration. Which I can do nothing but adapt myself to.

Things like the internet connection that is not as fast as in Europe and so after several days trying I still cannot watch all of my friend's documentary... Will try the last minutes at work where the speed is higher. Getting used to less.

It's like making friends with those you work with because that's about the people you deal with 24/7. Still not used to not having here multiple circles and wondering how easy it will be. Getting used to not choosing.

It's having several common activities without it being a new, interesting moment, like when people live together and ran out of things to say. It happens mostly here as I am not with the happiest, youngest chaps in the world and me too, I'm letting myself join the numbness. Getting used to collective boredom (need to change that one though).

It's talking about work at home. When this is about the only thing that links us. No really though. Getting used to 24/7 work environment.

It's when you say hi to the cleaning ladies and they seem to ignore you, you compliment them on the food (which they really are so good at) and they don't act like it matters and then someone tells you that last Saturday it seems like you forgot to reply to their probably shy 'good morning' and you caused offence while you were searching for the driver as we were late to go to the beach. They were offended. Getting used to a culture of pride.

It's when you get stuck in traffic and the cars are really not moving at all, no-one knows what's going on. Getting used to waiting.

It's waking up so early and leaving work late when you still are in reading, meeting, researching mode. Getting used to new rules.

It's mosquitoes bitting you on the 1cm of skin you didn't pass the roll on repelent in and instant rash. Getting used to stop scratching.

And then there is this song on the streets. There is the joy of the children who easily smile back at you. There is the delicious natural juice you can drink every morning. There is the luxury of having a room and a bathroom where I can also spend me time. There is the breeze from the mountain that feels so good in the middle of the day. There is the warmth in the sky and in people's eyes. There is the tastiest mangoes I've ever tasted. There is being in an extraordinary new place I would probably never come to if it wasn't for this amazing opportunity :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTLmQ98KBYQ

and the first Haitian souvenir!

the clearest water i've ever seen through

And I went to the beach last Sunday.

In fact the beach is not in Port-au-Prince but this one in particular was not too far away, about 1h drive from my friends' place, 1h more for me to get there because I'm up in the mountain where it's fresh and you hear the birds in the trees at the sunset and sunrise.

Normally I'm not much of a beach person, lying around one whole day, getting sunburnt, let alone a resort goer, but you gotta do with what you have and I we had a great time in the end!

Comments on the beach day before the pictures:

Besides the distance and the possible difficulty to get to the beach, most of them are not public, no not free of charge. Maybe it wouldn't be safe if the beach would be free... or if it would not be behind a restaurant most of the locals can't afford. But I wouldn't know and doubt that I will go to any public beach for the whole period of my stay here.

It was an all-included price. It was forty dollars. Versus zero when I go to the beach in Europe, it just doesn't make sense to me... 4-0 and in US dollars. The lady kindly converted them into Haitian gourds as we all have local cash. It included a meal, 3 drinks and, of course, the entrance to the beach and the swimming pool. Free water unlimited. And TV screen to watch the world cup final.

We didn't set foot on the pool because it was crowded soon after we arrived, but I think we got the best option - the beach was quieter and we could lay under the palm trees. The beach was unattended. Haha. They make us pay to enter and they don't even have a lifeguard to keep an eye on the swimmers, check the wind currents... But truth be told, there was about no current nor waves.

The water was, for a Portuguese, like soup. Temperature wise. It's way too easy to enter, no chill in the belly, we dive right into. Going back to the Atlantic won't be easy.

Despite the fact that there is lunch included, there are several beach merchants, selling from coconut water or lobsters to an array of decorative objects. They make instant friendship with you and politeness obliges you to say how pretty things are (even when they are not). I'm not usually the kind that gives tips for this even though you feel pressured when they tell you about the three kids home they need to feed. I got a free souvenir from one of them, made me feel even worse, but now I can say I own a shell spelling Haiti. 'Mesi anpil!' (Thank you very much!)

There are water taxis! And they cost 5 dollars for a ride along the coast (which we swam instead). They were getting more business than the lobster merchants too.

And now the long-awaited pictures :)

what they will never tell you: 'ceci n'est pas un bar'

A bit of an episode that happened to me Friday.

After work, we decided to go for a drink with a colleague, I want to learn some créole and he wants to learn some Portuguese so we could exchange informal classes.

Something that simple actually ended up being pretty complex stuff in this new lifestyle.
You should know that us, part of this organisation, have certain security rules for moving around and one of them is that we need to have one car from the org dropping us and picking us back up - so, in conclusion,  with very few exceptions and also certain limitations, we have a driver and a car at our disposal for work and leisure time.

My colleague had in mind a bar which was new to me and so he told my driver the name and address of the place. He would meet me there as he had to take his car, and given the rules I should not board any car that is private. So this meant that us 2, we took 2 cars to get to the same bar.

After just a few minutes, the driver tells me we arrived and he drops me in front of a green and orange wall, a guard from the other side. The place is called 'Concern', green letters. I get to the door and the guard opens the door to me, he looks inquisitive so I explain that I'm coming for a drink and that a colleague of mine is just on the way to join. He gives me a chair to sit outside, just inside the wall but outside the house and goes to find someone.

Someone else comes from inside and I explain the same again, it could be that the first guy didn't speak fluent French (not all Haitians do, créole is the dominant language). He asks me the name of my colleague, I tell him and it doesn't ring a bell. Weird. Awkward. I ask him if the place is closed, that I don't mean to disturb and we can go somewhere else. But he says that I can stay there or come inside, no worries. I stay put. I start wondering where did I get myself into, what kind of café this is, just one week after arriving to Port-au-Prince could I already be putting myself into trouble. And I don't have my colleague's number.

But my colleague calls soon after luckily. He wonders where I am. I thought I was in the bar we were supposed to meet in. I explain him the location based on a store across the street, the guard also gives me the full address and after some minutes he finally gets there.

So apparently I went to the wrong place. I decide to be more specific and ask the guard if this is a bar... to which I finally get the answer I was looking for: this is not a bar. This is the office of an NGO, a private building I had just so elegantly trespassed without anyone telling me so.

We call back my driver, go again in 2 separate cars with my driver following my colleague's car, and we get to the proper bar we were supposed to go to in the first place. All within 1km radius or so it seemed.

This showed me a bit of what local culture seems to be like, how welcoming and polite they can be to the point that they won't stop you entering a private house, they won't kick you out when they see you must be clearly mistaken and they won't even pressure you to figure it out. They give you a chair to sit in instead :)

Of course it makes a difference that I am a white girl, carrying a backpack and being dropped by an NGO jeep, but this delicate approach would probably not be the approach in many other parts of the world.

And I did learn some new words! 'Bonswe, mwen relé Claudia. Mwen sotie Portugal.' (Good evening, my name is Claudia. I come from Portugal)

PS: this weekend I also went to the beach - photos on the next post!

"é que hoje fiz um amigo e coisa mais preciosa no mundo não ha"

(because today I made a friend and there is nothing more precious in the world)

Dear readers,

I just wanted to share with you that I made my first Haitian friend today. Outside work. Chances are that I will maybe add at least one more from the office, but not just yet. And of course a superficial friendship but hey, that's always the start!

I braved myself into a new part of town after work as there was a movie screening in the French Institute. Upon arrival... slight panic: I was the only white person in the room. After 7 days of overprotection I didn't know whether that could be an issue. I decided to stop thinking bullshit and sit down.

In the middle of a movie about Rwanda, mixing football and memories of the genocide, there was a scene that looked like it could be a street in Port-au-Prince, where the narrator said how one can never be completely safe. That at the sight of a group of people, dressed in a certain way, walking in a certain way, in a certain part of town... the fear comes back again. A guy sitting next to me whispers 'it could be Haiti' and as much as I wanted to say 'yeah, i thought the same', I felt it would have been rude and what do I know yet. So I just said 'I wouldn't know'.

Casimir was there because of a photo exhibition he was participating in and to which he so proudly invited and guided me through.  The photos were the output of a workshop where they each created their own homemade photo camera out of an empty box (eg. a milk container or a shoebox). You make a small hole in one of the sides to let the light in and from the opposite side you will get a reversed image of reality outside. So you get black and white photos, positive and negative sets of pics.

Like this. It's called sténopé or pinhole camera (I think) in English.

PS: Casimir actually had a really good, semi-professional camera. The sténopé was just for fun. And an iphone. Technology seems to be a very democratic trend :)

“for I cannot guarantee to endure at all times the confinements of even an attractive cage.”

(said Amelia Earhart, one of the first women aviators)

I've got a confession to make. It's been 6 days now and I'm starting to feel jittery with the ivory tower we live in. It's great, spacious, lavishly green (the irony, remember there is only 2% of the country in green?) and we even have a pool! But it's been 6 days now that we go mostly home to work and work to home. The city is calling me!

The exploration will have to be in a different way this time, for security reasons. Tomorrow the French institute with a movie screening. Soon enough I'll go check out the Observatoire. A view point of the city. It's on the green area of the map. Heard it's beautiful. And to see things from the top, to get some fresh air, to feel the breeze, always brings me back my freedom.

how come you don't know Cristiano Ronaldo?

So on my first week, we get a visitor coming into the office... He is about 12 years old. At first he acts shy and he talks to my colleague, says hi, banal stuff.

I start realizing he is the son of one of our colleagues and since we're in the World Cup craze, my colleague starts teasing him about who he supports. He seems to be for the US first of all as he is an American citizen (many Haitian mothers go to Miami to give birth so that their children can have the nationality and thus much more mobility in their future). Then he is slightly supportive of France. Must be the weight of history.

But my colleague makes it really hard for him... she tells him Belgium will will against Argentina. For your information: my colleague obviously comes from chocolate land otherwise who would ever believe so :), and most Haitians tend to support Argentina and Brazil, probably due to the geographical closeness.

I think he cared more about playing football - or even coming to check up on what we were doing - than on the World Cup thing, so he smiled without reacting much to the provocation.

He gained some courage and came a bit closer, already smiling. He asked me where I was from and I said Portugal. I added that it was the country of Cristiano Ronaldo. Hopefully that would help. It did. But the second day he came, a bit closer, a bigger smile, he asked: "tu connais Cristiano Ronaldo?" (do you know Cristiano Ronaldo?). I even bragged I was his age and born on the same day (I think); but no, sadly I don't know him.

He asked a more difficult question next: "Pourquoi tu ne le connais pas?" (how come you don't know him?) and so I did a 3 minute cultural presentation of Portugal with the help of GoogleMaps, where I showed him my home city and then... far away... somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic the archipelago of Madeira, where CR7 was born. Where I've never even been (yet!) And then we wondered off in the map to the UK because I heard the guy plays for one team over there.

Pretty good topic to start a cultural sharing considering my complete ignorance on football history. Haha.

He continued talking and between the low tone of voice and perhaps a bit of creole mixed, I felt silly asking him to repeat what he said about 3 times, so I was only following about 60% of what he actually said. I hope this gets better and easier soon.

We had to leave for lunch break and I felt like taking the kid along with us. His mother was not there at the moment so maybe next time. We invited him to come over to our house on the weekend. I could tell he wouldn't mind at all. Both me and my colleague are sort of in love with the cute boy.

Before leaving with his mom in the afternoon, he left us each a slice of pizza
Good thing school holidays are on, would be nice to have this kind of interruption every now and then :)

PS: this is not him - I still don't know how and when it is appropriate to take pictures of people.

16H25, 01/07, 23 KG - I got here!

And here am I, again in a country I had never thought I'd go to and I am here to call it home for the next months.

I started reading some things before and the past days I got even more info so let's start with some data. This is as far as objectivity will go in this blog, you should be aware of it :)

In 1492 it was discovered, in 1804 it becomes a republic. This was the first independent black nation, wow right!

150 million francs (modern equivalent of $21 billion) was the debt France imposed to the country in return for its independence.

In May 2010, the World Bank seems to have finally waived on the country's remaining debts. The value of the waiver was $36 million. (Wikipedia)

On January 12th 2010, the country got struck by a really strong earthquake (7,0 magnitude in the Richter scale). The numbers are unclear but there could have been from 40,000 to 300,000 of deaths. Many governmental and commercial buildings collapsed, 80% of the schools in the capital were destroyed. The financial impact of this catastrophe is esteemed to have been 8 billion dollars, or around 120% of the country's GDP (World Bank).

Misery seems to enjoy company and in October 2010 an outbreak of cholera was identified and until now more than 8,500 people died from this epidemic (UN). This is a problem of public health which requires better hygiene habits and access to clean/treated water and sanitation infrastructures (ie. it all starts with latrines).

50,5% of the population lives in urban settings (UNFPA), particularly in the capital, which condenses the investments, the NGOs and the health, education, work services.

50% of the population is below 18 years old, 90% of the primary students are educated in international or church-run schools (versus public schools, which are neither for free) and illiteracy rate is around 52% (Wikipedia and PNUD).

Its life expectancy is the lowest (62,5 years old) and its fertility rate is among the highest in the Americas (2,98% children per woman, according to CIA).

In fact, 77% of the population lives with less than 2 USD per day (World Bank), so it's not surprising that people wouldn't have access to the most basic rights of education, health, proper living conditions. It is the poorest country in the Northern hemisphere.

1% of the population holds half of the country's wealth (or 2% holds 85% of it), making it one of the most unequal countries in the world (see Gini coefficient).

Added to that, only 2% of the country is forested and due to intensive agricultural practices as well the soil has lost its productivity up to 75% (PNUD).

But there is more to Haiti than these figures.
And without the specifics of the dates, names, indexes, a lot of other nations have been in a similar place - and got out of there.

The next posts will be about everything else that numbers can't tell. About my experience and therefore a very subjective and biased account of the matters that I will live here. But that will definitely shape my world view in a different way that media tries to.

Let's try again, shall we?

Four years later, I have decided to bring this blog alive again. There's a new place to tell you about. And there is a new motivation to use this space better, more frequently. And there is a wiser, more experienced, more stubborn Claudia. To share the best that my eyes will see.

By words, most of the time though. But as much as I can, there will be photos and other material too.
I hope the warmth will come across right over to your side of the world. I hope you will feel part too.

That's my goal.