going more places

Last Friday we went out to a place I've been wanting to go to for long: the Observatoire. Up in the hill, it gives you a panorama of almost all the city of Port-au-Prince.

 

 

I really thought the city was so much more colourful from the top. I was surprised how tiny the little houses are. The biggest structure by far is the airport. Next the port by the sea. The little white houses are everywhere and you can't even notice how hilly the city seems to be from down. We had dinner there and the local drink, Rum Sour.

Saturday I went to a terrace of a hotel which offers another great view, this time in the middle of the city.This is Mont Jalousie. The Observatoire was up there, to the right side, thus we couldn't see these colourful houses from up there.

Finally and to continue the beach saga, we tried the very popular, very nothing special spot where the UN peeps normally go to. And we had lobster by the beach. This is just one part, more savage of the beach. Th rest of it had thin, blonde sand instead of little peebles.

In and Ex

Travelling often makes you know yourself better. And my dad, especially, claims that I came back another person, much more open and social, from my time in France, my first second home.

I used to be a bookworm when I was a little girl. I would close myself in my world. There were also not many children in the family. And in weddings and such I would spend the whole time playing and entertaining the kids, even when I was 12 or 15. I would rather stay with them than join the grow ups. And perhaps because for many years I was the only child I really developped interesting ways of amusing myself. I can be alone with myself for as long as I need.

But as soon as I started getting to know people on my own (it did mostly start in France), I realized how enriching and fun these interactions could be! So I started breathing in and gathering the needed courage to come into a room full of people and smile, start making conversation. I soon became the person that strikes up conversation with the new person, smile and make small talk, as I could relate to how they must feel. In fact, I am drawn and tend to get closer to those who are quieter, even though at the same time I try gently to take them out of their own bubble, so they realize what I did too.

And so I thought I had somehow changed myself from the little girl behind the book in highschool. And maybe if I would force myself I would. But I will just do what I feel like.

Coming to Haiti in itself didn't change it, I was ready to be as outgoing as I can. I know that for the most part extraversion has brought me great things and priority number one was to start making connections with people I could eventually call my friends. But here we live in a bit of a different way, again a change from how I've lived alone for many years and in several different places.

Here we live in a big house with colleagues, each with a separate bedroom, with whom we go to work and work from 7am to 6pm. Here my boss gets drunk in the weekend at parties with other colleagues (including myself). And she is so approachable and so nice that she can talk about anything and brighten up any group, even if everyone else is rather quiet. Here people come late from work and go straight into the porch to sit, drink, meet others and it can last until 11pm or midnight. Before they even come to their rooms to freshen up and without necessarily eating. Instead they smoke and drink beer. They also talk and laugh. These are very interesting people in fact. Since I arrived to this house, there were already 5 newcomers who inevitably come stay the night at our house before heading off to the projects the next day. And recently we had 3 visitors from the headquarters, who joined us for up to two weeks.

So it's like full house all the time. A bigger family than I ever lived with. Lots of talking about past work experiences. It's incredible to sit in and at times I don't have anything to say back, but the topics of conversation just fly by.

But tonight I really felt like wearing the PJ's all around the house and even go down to the kitchen in a extra large t-shirt grab something to eat because I feel hungry. And I don't feel like putting the repellent on again to be out in the porch. And it's been a while since I updated the blog and would honestly rather stay in my room doing that and checking my emails and thinking about my day or my week or last weekend. And I need to catch up on sleep.

And fuck it, tonight I don't feel obliged to smile, exchange names and hear yet another story about that time in Congo. So tonight I'm not coming down or I just did but it was just to sneak into the kitchen, grab something to eat wearing the large t-shirt (and some shorts which I took off again when back to the room) and sneak back up like I'm invisible because tonight the night is for myself.

So I'm not sure if I'm back to being introverted but I'm not available every night. Sometimes I might even feel like talking to one or two people, but no, not in the mood to meet the new visitor that just debarked here tonight.

Maybe tomorrow morning at breakfast. Or not.
Maybe in order to be again an extrovert I will need a good night's sleep as an introvert.

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!