Travel in Haiti

Travel in Haiti is unpredictable and often times unusual you never know how you might travel. The other day we waited for Tigo to show up with the truck to ride down to Jacmel to clean out the Art Gallery. After waiting a little over an hour for the truck to come, it arrived very full and we wondered where we would sit, since there was three of us. The truck already had 16 people, 14 goats, 6 large bunches of bananas (the way they hang off the tree not the little bunch you buy in the store), and at least 6 large bags of produce of different sorts about double the size of the large charcoal sacks in the United States. All this was in Tigo’s little Toyota pick-up truck. I was ready to ride up on top of the cab with two other people there, there is a rack you can sit on; but a woman in the cab gave up her seat for me. I was grateful but I have rode up on the top of that rack before. You never know what will be carried on a truck. This is a picture of a truck we passed by when I was driving through Port-au-Prince last week.
Other unusual travel, the other day we went down to Jacmel on the motorcycle we almost always travel with 3 people on a motorcycle and I have seen as many as 6 people (some children) on a motorcycle before. But as we were down at the Texaco getting our internet a huge storm rolled in. The sky was dark grey, the wind was blowing and it was pouring down rain. I was already making plans in my head to stay at the gallery down in Jacmel but the guys were definitely ready to head up the mountain. I was out voted. When the rain let up a bit, we packed up our things and walked out the door only to find the rain had picked back up again. As my heart raced, I thought about going up that slippery mountain on the motorcycle getting drenched in the rain. Then Kenson (our driver and friend) pointed out that, the ambulance in front of us were going to Bainet which is about twice the distance. I thought about it and Lee and Kenson encouraged me. The next thing you know I was tapping on the window of the vehicle. Excuse me sir I said, Do you think you could give us a ride up the mountain to Mizak. He asked me some questions back, how many people, where are you going again, then, he said he wasn’t sure his boss would agree. Finally I asked, “Aren’t you here to help people? Well, I need help.” Finally he agreed. He said we could look in the back for where we could sit. There was just a little bench back there and a girnie. We all squeezed on the little bench. I was so grateful when we got to the river and saw the water rushing over the road. There is no way we would have crossed on the motorcycle. We would have had to turn back to Jacmel having already been soaked. I gave a little ‘mesi’ to God; especially after crossing the river and seeing all the streams of water coming down the road making its own rivers, washing rocks away in the process. I was so relieved to be finally be home safe and sound.

A work day

Why do I feel exhausted sometimes even though I am not ‘working’ that much. For example like today, I taught English for 2 hours and then spent a few hours working and communicating with family on the internet. But I feel exhausted. In the United States I can easily work a 10 hour day, so why does it seem that 10 hour day is equivalent to a 5-6 hour day in Haiti. I realized the answer to this question the other day when I was writing my brother and bel-suer (sister-in-law). I was telling them that I don’t have physical labor here but I feel emotionally drained.
Everyone around me has nothing. They have nothing to do, no jobs, few opportunities and little hope for the future. Because I have money to buy toilet paper and water and eat twice a day, I am rich. On a regular day I walk to English class and pass children wearing rags sometimes no shoes, carrying water on their heads for their families to bathe and cook. Some of the children are as young as 4 or 5. Then I see men working in the fields of their gardens and when I return at the end of the day they are still there throwing a pick ax, digging up all the land by hand. I then work with young adults who are eager to learn English in hopes that it might give them some sort of future, or some have said, ‘because I have nothing else to do, there are no jobs’.
After class I walk through the market area where an old lady from another zone, may hold out her hand in desperation hoping I give her 10 goudes (25 cents) to help her family. I walk back to my house to collect all my things, to then go down the mountain for internet on the motorcycle praying for our safety on the bumpy road that has loose rocks and parts that are washed away from the rain. Praying all the way home, as I look out over the beautiful land that God has created and wonder about the people’s lives in the little huts below and about Haiti’s future.
At the day end of the day I sit down to a wonderful meal that has been prepared for me, while the rest of the family eats plates full of rice and beans sometimes with a hunk of ‘meat’ (we would probably throw away these parts in the US – I am not sure). I feel guilty eating me chicken leg, lettuce, carrots and Kool-Aide; and yet I know other families that will not even have that plate of rice and beans. When I lay my head on my pillow in my little 8’ by 9’ foot room, I think about the people that still have to sleep in tents and those that sleep on the floor because there are not enough beds for everyone in their house. It is a hard life in Haiti, no doubt. I often wonder how the Haitians survive, but they do. They are inspiring and determined to work toward a brighter future, even when there seems to be little opportunity. I am happy to work alongside with them to find that glimmer of light and contribute what I can to help them find what they are looking for to have a better future. I just have to remind myself that the ‘work’ is not the same as in the United States and some days when I am do and visit with my neighbors it may be some of the most important work I do. And sometimes it is exhausting being faced with the harsh realities of this world on a daily basis.

Peace and Happiness

Today, Sunday, was International Peace Day celebration at the Peace Park in Mizak, with the theme of peace and happiness. Unfortunately, we didn’t stay very long in the services. There were many people there young and old, the new playground equipment and the blown up beach balls for decorations added lots of colors to the celebration. But I had a bit of a headache so I decided I might be of more use and more at peace myself if I could help out in the kitchen. Selene was happy to see me and handed me a grater and a bowl of coconut. I grated the coconut for a short time until my hand got tired and I asked for another job. I was given a tub of boiled carrots, potatoes, and beets to cut up. I was happy as the people and the kitchen festivities moved in rhythm around me; but soon we had to go to English class.
In class, I read a book, “Small Pig”, by Arnold Lobel about a pig who found his home in the ‘good, soft, mud’. A story about the comforts of home and the peace in your soul that comes “[When you] sit down, and sink down into the good, soft mud.” At the end of the second English class we sang Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ in brought my heart happiness as I sang along and watched the students singing along and jamming out, proud that they know all the words in English.
After four hours of English class I waited around the center for Lee to finish the poverty intervention meeting. I sat in on the Creole Literacy Classes watching as all the students wrote their names on the board; after the angels sang a beautiful little song, that reflected the rhythm of the county. I couldn’t understand all the words but the rhythm of the music spoke to my soul and reflected the cadence of this beautiful country. The voices moved with the march of the tired madam carrying water for her family. I felt Haiti inside of me and that was peaceful and filled with happiness.

Blessings in Disguise

There is always room for one more and we take care of people

Finally we were heading down to Jacmel after making a side trip of 2 hours. A man in the street stopped us in Mizak to see if we were going to Jacmel, he had things to load up and take to there. We pulled up the road to the Dispensary. They had been working and had all their tools plus cement bags, planks of wood, and a wheel barrow. A few people got out of the truck as we loaded up all these supplies. We were not sure how everyone was going to fit on the truck but it worked, it always seems to work. We were off down the road again, with that sweet baby girl in the red dress beside me fast asleep. Just a little bit down the road we had to pull over; one of the gentlemen in the back had passed out. They poured water on him and asked him how he was doing. He threw up over the side of the truck. Some of the other men were asking him questions, the rest of the people were waiting patiently and wondering what would happen next. After a bit the man came to and said he had to go to the bathroom, right away people started making small references to Cholera. But this was not cholera, they reassured. I think the man had not had anything to eat today and probably little to drink. Then he was riding in the blazing sun in the back of a truck down bouncy miserable roads. We set off again; Tigo stopped by his house just a bit down the road and had his sister bring the man 2 packages of saltine crackers. Sometime later we arrived at the ‘bus station’ to go to PaP. The man who was sick got out; others were shouting he needed to go to the hospital in Jacmel.
I just watched, wondering what they were all going to do. The man walked down a steep hill and lay down against it. I told Tigo “We can’t just leave him here.” he said the man was going to PaP; he didn’t want to go Jacmel. I was frustrated, what to do? It didn’t seem right and yet what can we do so I whispered to Tigo ‘Then get him something to drink before we leave.” Tigo wondered off between the crowds of people going to PaP. He came back with a Sprite and a little bag with some sort of food in it and took it down to the sick man. The people left on the truck were happy saying ‘oh bon chauffeur, bon chauffeur’. I felt better too, we did what we could and we planned on checking on him when we came back to see if he was still there. We could have taken him to the hospital but he didn’t want that. But we could have left him there with nothing, too. Sometimes you just do what you can do for a person at the time.

Another Day of Making Traffic

I needed to go down to Jacmel, so I called Tigo to ask him if he was going that way. He was and leaving now. I quickly gathered all of my things and hurried down to meet the truck, only to see we were headed in the other direction. Oh well, here is to adventures. I jumped in the back of the truck as there were already people up front. I was with about 15 cement sacks and 3 ladies, 1 of which was lying in the bed of the truck against the cement bags with a shirt over her head. She didn’t look well, tired and exhausted from a hard life. As we rode up the bumpy mountain; I tried to soak in the scenery and think about life, my life, the Haitian life, the varying degrees of life in Haiti and the world. We passed by big beautiful houses with no one living in them and children with raggy clothes carrying water. I thought about the beauty of the county as I gazed down at the trees in the valley then the misery I have heard the Haitians speak of.

Its complex God and I don’t understand.

We arrived in another community, Blokes, people tried to tease the ‘blan’ a bit I just played back. We ate an orange as we waited for people to load up in the truck to go back to Jacmel. I watched this sweet baby girl in a little red dress eat a banana while she waited with us for the truck to go too. And I watched the humor and compassion of the people even with orange peels and trash in the street.

Maybe it is not so complex God and maybe I don’t need to understand.

Today I wanted to be creative in class.

We have Haitian teachers in our English classes with Living Media. So of course they teach in the same manner in which they were taught. The teaching style in Haiti is memorization. When I lived over with Paul and the family I would listen to Doris (his daughter) studying. She was just memorizing paragraphs. But when I would ask her what she was learning, what she thought about that, she couldn’t tell me. I remember when I memorized things for a test I didn’t really learn it; I just knew it long enough to pass the test. It also doesn’t give your mind a chance to process the information.
I have been thinking a lot about how I learned English. I also know that they talk and talk about how important it is to read to your children. So I started class today by looking at “Cat in the Hat”. Luture and Felix, the first two students were interested and opened the book and started reading it. They read line by line and together they translated them into Creole as they went, with me encouraging them and helping them along. When the next student, Nicole came in she started reading the lines in English with them too. After we were finished I asked them to listen and look at the picture as I read the whole thing to them.
After reading the book, we used some flashcards to work on colors and objects. When we just had a few minutes left of class I asked if anyone had any questions. Nicole said, “Can I say, “You make me happy?” I said yes, repeating that in English and then in Creole. Then Luture said, “You want to say, Angelica makes you happy?” She just smiled and said ‘wi’. After Luture picked up his bag, smiled and shrugged saying with his whole body, “I feel good today.”
The whole class made me happy too. And I feel good today too.” 