Yon Rév

This is why I try to carve these stories into you dreams, so that you will not be deceived by birds and wolves who will want to make you and take you into the night... so that not only will you always remember the sound of my voice but yours as well. I tell you the story not even certain that you will know how to discern my voice, if you will stay silent or sing it back to me. But I have no choice but to tell you this story. It is all that I know. It is all that I have.
- Edwidge Danticat


I have been gone from Haiti now for one month and thirteen days.  Upon my takeoff, which I viewed from a window seat in a strange emotionally exhausted, overcaffeinated, essentially confused state, the country waited for a final election result that would bring, at least temporarily, some satisfaction to the people. 


But as I left, the matter remained unresolved. And so as I looked out for the last time in who knows how long at the broken streets teeming with people framed by the tree-stripped mountains, I thought back on a particular scene that will forever replay in my head.


We have been stranded in Kenscoff for 4 days. Normally, this wouldn't be such a bad thing, but today is a different matter. With the election trouble, the electricity has been even more sporadic for the last 3 days, so our showers are freezing with the mountain air and our only entertainment is an old checkerboard that neither of us wants to touch and irregular radio broadcasts (which I struggle to follow completely with my limited language comprehension). No one goes outside except for short walks to a friend's house. None of the boutiques, depots, or food stops in town have remained open.  But even worse than the low level of activity at home has been the attitude that the trouble has created in the community. It's proved especially bad for my roomate, Jean Buteau.  Unable to go to the bank, he has run out of money, and he is fed up with everything to do with his country. At night, we sit together, having just managed to find some food at a little house behind the road where they sell pâté. At the end of a difficult conversation, he repeats a similar refrain, the line he goes to when our electricity suddenly goes out or there are reports of trouble in town. "Ayiti," he says in his young but tired-sounding voice, his dark features shining in the candlelight, "se yon rév. It is a dream."


...


"It just seems so crazy.
"I was in Petionville on Friday, walking around with Job (he's a Haitian friend), and these kids come up to us, who I know because they want to be in our program. They greet me all amicably, then Job, both very shortly, and then we parted ways.
" 'One of those guys, he whispered something in my ear about you, which I want to tell you because we're good friends,' Job said to me. ' When you had your back turned talking to the other guy, he leaned in and told me that you are very powerful and can do many things to help people. Then he gave me a look and walked off.'
"I mean who are these people kidding? I'm 22 working for no money in a start-up NGO with capacity for 20 people. A lot of power? It's not even my program."


She, who has never been in Haiti, laughs slowly, and calmly reminds me that, "Given the situation, Chris, you do have a lot of power."


...


Riding through the countryside, I feel as if I could be viewing the early 20th century. Stone-faced farmers slice at their hillside plots while their wives cook rice over a coal fire and their children run naked through the yard.
A farmer shows me his palm-roofed house, a sturdy structure, but one that lets in rain during the wet season, making everyone and everything damp and miserable. Yet I cannot help myself from being fascinated that he has lived this way, in this time, for his whole life.
Ferel interrupts my thoughts, "In the United States, you wouldn't let your dog live in one of those things."


... 

I am choking on the thick, disgusting smoke which blows up into my face, bringing tears to my eyes, but I refuse to take the cigar away from my face for more than a few seconds. A far more rancid set of smells awaits beyond the smoke.
I am in the city morgue, 10 minutes away from the country's center of government. The deceased men, women, and children are kept in no organized fashion, just strewn about a not-cold-enough freezer, left to decompose. 
As I take in the smoke, rum, and singing while busying myself by putting little cloths on the deceased that we are taking to bury, the dizzying sights and sounds pass in a fray. In the midst of it all, I see a small hole in the old tin roof, a light peeking through and I think:
These battered remnants of life are the children of God.


...


I am in Jenny's farm house, listening to rhythmic drumming, a voodoo beat, I am informed. We are celebrating and mourning under the banner of endings and beginnings.  And the band breaks into song, playing Yele. 
Si ou gen zorey, tande
Si ou gen bouche, pale


If you have ears, listen
If you have mouth, speak


I smile, loving the music. OK, Clef. I will.


...


It is my second week in South Africa, and I have been thinking a lot about dreams. And I've been dreaming a lot about Ayiti. I am struggling to understand the disconnected vignettes that are my experiences in Ayiti; to link what seems like another lifetime to my reality in this new place. I look down at the floor of the District 6 museum and see a Langston Hughes poem:


Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

And I remember the stories of my Haitian students, friends, and collegues, who fight seemingly insurmountable circumstances. Who at their worst feel like nothing and no one, but still get up and fight for their lives every day. And I dream of their success, their happiness, their freedom. And I will never forget.

M'ap vini
I'm coming

I Dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended

For anyone unaware, I flew out of Haiti two days ago, as my time as an in-country volunteer with KCH is now up. I'm moving on to exciting new things in and out of the organization.

In: I passed the baton to two awesome new volunteers, Travis Carter and LeeAllie Buchanan, who will work for KCH likely for a period of about a year. Our program is in good hands with these two, and I wish them all the best. As for me, I'm taking a position on the KCH board as an aducation program advisor, which is related to...

Out: In a week, I'm moving again to South Africa, where I'm planning to spend two months working in a research internship for the University of Cape Town and hanging out with a girl who I've spent the better part of the last 8 months at least 3000 miles away from. I'm a little excited.
After South Africa, I'll be training for and then working in the Teach for America program in Miami, FL, hopefully keeping up the Kreyol. And speaking of this, I have to go take my Social Studies certification test!

Stay tuned for one last blog post about Ayiti to come later in the week!

Le Paix

Once upon a Time

“There was a time when, if I wanted, I could just climb a tree and take all the fruit I wanted. Mangoes, coconuts, anything – I could eat them until I had no more room in my stomach. Even, for example, in a place I was not from. I am from Okay, but I have a friend in Leogane. If I went to visit my friend, there would always be a big basket of fruit waiting when I arrived, and I would take as I pleased. 

Now, it is not so.  Those times are gone, here and everywhere.  Everything is commerce, money.  Even in prosperous places, people don’t have all they need. I lived for a time in New York. You know, even there, people are sleeping in the streets. Even in New York some people don’t have enough to eat.

Our hardship will continue, I think, for the earth is punishing us now. There are too many of us here, and we have mistreated the earth for too long.  And the earth is all that matters. Apre mwen pase, apre w pase, apre nou tout pase, late a se anko la. After I pass, after you pass, after we all pass, the earth will still be here. And it is angry with us for cutting the trees and destroying the soil. I do not know if there is anything we can do to stop the earth’s anger now. So I wait.

I await the return of Jesus. I await God. Paske lavi pa ka kontinye konsa. Because life cannot continue like this. What can we do?

 

And yet, this is still a good place. Always it is a good place. It is home, and so mwen renmen Ayiti.”

Lekol

“Come on, I need your assistance if I’m really going to help you learn anything. What are some words we use every day?”

“Well, good morning is something.”

“Yes, it is, you’re right.  For bonswa? Do you know how to say that?”

“Good… afternoon.”

“See, I’m telling you, you know how to speak this language. Now how about nouns – like things or objects that you talk about every day?”

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Ok, I’ll give you a few examples. House, that means kay; clothes means ràd, food means manje, bed means kabann –“

I pause, looking up from the little list of words I’ve prepared for our English lesson to find Guerline in a fit of giggles. “What?” I ask her, “What is it?”

“Oh, Chris, I don’t have one of those. I sleep on a piece of carpet.” She’s laughing hysterically.

Taking her cue, I begin to laugh easily as well. “Well tapi is carpet in English, dear.”

“Caaarpet,” she repeats slowly, still holding the ‘r’ in the back of her mouth, as is habit for a Francophone such as herself. Her laugh dies off, but her huge smile remains.

I’m happy when she turns her head down towards her notebook for half a second; it gives me a little time to release the embarrassment I’ve been hiding behind my eyes as I glance at my own paper. And, after the brief moment, we continue.

“Desk,” I say, “that means biwo. School, you know that already. It means lekol.”

Inescapable

“Always when you live in Ayiti, your life is not good.  Because even when you are doing well yourself, you can arrive another place to find that the people you love are suffering. Even when you are becoming someone, doing good things, upon reflecting you understand that others are hurting.  And then you cannot be happy yourself. In this country, it is always happening around you.

When I am lot bo a, in the other place, I am making money, doing well for myself, and learning. But today I return here to find that my family is not well.  My father is sick, my brother and sister cannot find work, and my family does not have enough food to eat. This will always stay in my head, taunting me.

Everywhere you go in Ayiti, you cannot escape this reality. It is always there. It is not a life.” 

Fighting the Tide

It is nice to occasionally affirm one's role as someone aiding others, but it is equally if not far more important to recognize and constantly re-acknowledge the enormity of the challenge. The following comment took place in a conversation with a middle class Haitian businessman who had just heaped a torrent of undue praise upon me. This is only a small segment of the problems we really have to tackle in serving our youth, and a small segment of the concerns that he presented.  As we continued to think about our options after the following comment, the last words in the conversation were, "Support your local revolutionary forces." It was a good reality check.

“I liken it to a prison.

"Here you are with access to exercise equipment, books, educational materials, and what have you. But you’re locked up for 30 years. It’s going to take a hell of a lot of focus, determination, patience, and what have you to actually follow through and continue to read those books, be invested in your education, in yourself. It’s going to take someone special even to stay interested in following a sit com, because here you are watching people do things you’ll never be able to do, at least not for 30 years. People driving cars, going to basketball games, and just generally being comfortable; these are all things that you realistically can’t do.

“So you say, 'You will make it if you work hard and try hard,' but you realistically have no idea if that can be true. There's certainly no way you'll make it without that, but even with you doing all these things, life is likely to be a pretty uncertain situation. And we can't say there's anyone looking out for them in the political structure. You're on your own.

"That is what it’s like being 22 in this country right now."

Di djab, 'Bonjou,' l'ap manje ou.  Pa di djab, 'Bonjou,' l'ap manje ou.

Say to the devil, 'Good day,'  and he eats you. Don't say, 'Good day,' to the devil, he eats you.

Haitian Proverb

DLO/EAU/Water

Today, as I passed Route Frere during one of the 5 hours I spent in the taptap, I heard a familiar noise. The usual noises of trucks, cars, and buzzing motos was interrupted by what at first what I thought was a novelty horn. Except it kept repeating, and quickly I recognized the drone of - could it really be? - the song of an ice cream truck.

But of course, it was not an ice cream truck. It was the water truck. Try to imagine running ecstatically after the man bringing clean water to your neighborhood. A slightly different thought than cold, sugary, delicious snacks, no?  

This past weekend, I walked from Kenscoff to Seguin, a 6-8 hour walk. The Haitians that take that walk often do it on a routine basis; for example the ladies in Segiun will bring their big baskets of oranges to sell at the public market in Kenscoff. We even saw a guy carrying 3 trees he would sell in Port au Prince. Almost no one brings water, and by almost no one I mean I saw one person with water on the whole walk.  One old man stopped to ask us for some, and upon receiving it, the 10 ounces disappeared in seconds.

Imagine walking from here over the mountain in the background without a single drop to drink... in the middle of the Caribbean heat. 

 Also, Cholera continues to threaten the Haitian people, especially in the poorest areas where there is not good sanitation.

"Can't we just get some affordable water into this country?" you say. A decent question. Although really clean water should be free, consider this: already, for a 5 gallon jug of treated water, the standard price is 60 gourdes. That's $1.50 (meaning a bottle of Fiji might cost 3 times that).  In December, a student of mine in Cite Soliel came to the office having not eaten in 2 days and having missed school because he got sick from drinking bad water.

That, when with $1.50, he could have had safe water to drink for a week.

If I saw the water truck, I would scream like it was ice cream too; talk about things to be thankful for.

Respe

What's in a Phrase

"The wealthy suburb of Petion ville, in the hills above Port au Prince..."

The above phrase occurs in almost every major news story that involves Petionville, part of the greater metropolis of Port au Prince.  And it does not make me happy.

It’s time to find something a tad more creative and explanatory beyond this recycled cliché that inevitably leads to, “where the bourgeois sip their French wines,” or, “where the upscale houses of the rich tower over the city,” or some other analogy in which the rich people of PV scoff at the poor down in Port au Prince.  First off, just get a new phrase; cutting and pasting from your last article is lame.

Second, and more importantly, this phrase that seeks to paint a Dickensian picture of the capital of Haiti is obnoxiously oversimplified and missing some vital contextual information.  In their desire to turn a catchy, illuminating phrase, journalists are missing the heartbreaking realities in Petionville.  For anyone who might think I am an overcritical nitpick, well maybe you’re right.  But the constant use (or misuse) of this phrase to me is endemic of a bigger problem: that mainstream media coverage of Haiti often fails to capture the realities of this country that just over one year ago was the focus and concern of the whole world due to the tragedy of January 12th, the tumultuous history of the nation, and the swath of problems that continue to multiply.

Let me start by acknowledging the truth in the generalizations. Petionville is indeed a place where more money is exchanged than down in Laville (meaning ‘the city’). There are indeed French restaurants, hotels, nightclubs, banks, grocery stores, gyms, tall office buildings, and nice homes.

Every morning, I walk through Petionville down to my office, which is almost in another close suburb, Juvenat. So every morning I pass Place St. Pierre, where sits an enormous tent camp that helps fill the air with the smell of trash. I walk down through streets filled with trash and dirty water that is always running (If the women in need of water can find the broken water vein that morning, they will congregate around the old snapped pipe and gather liquid to use for washing, showering, or cooking). The nice homes are hidden behind one foot cement walls with razor wire over top of the fence. The grocery stores (the banks, hotels and offices too, actually) are staffed by at least one guard with a shotgun. By the time I arrive at work I’ve passed another dusty tent camp with no drainage systems; another camp is a minute’s walk away, next to a trash dump.  When I look out the back window of my office, I see a few of the much talked about villas.  But mostly modest cinder block houses, patched tin roofs, and a few tents fill my field of view, taking up 3/4ths of the mountainside.

It seems that the point of the phrase that catches my scorn is to illustrate, with a small explanation, the irony of the rich-poor separation in Haiti. However, the use of this phrase by people whose occupation is to build our knowledge and understanding of current events is the real irony.  The phrase connotes vilification of those well off enough to be able to enjoy a night out; something that most of us, including many of the people writing these pieces, do in our home countries without a second thought.  To condemn “the rich” in a general sense is easy and shortsighted, just as it is to condemn the poor.  To talk in diminutive cliché phrases in the forums designed to promote knowledge and discussion certainly does not help people see through the issues that hurt Haitian society.

To me, the irony and tragedy is not that the rich can look down on the poor from another neighborhood, insulate themselves with fine things, or separate themselves entirely from the plight in their country. Instead, it is that often well meaning people pass wretchedness and suffering every day; it exists literally outside their front door or across the street.  The irony is that the pieces that make up a civil society are moving around in the same places; they are present, capable, and often well-meaning.  But they are not engaging in sustained, meaningful interactions that help one another comprehend and relate. 

Part of the problem is that the same goes for several members of the media reporting on stories in Haiti.  Their assignments are too often not investigative but to search out the quick, dirty piece (so oftentimes they stay in upscale Petionville hotels).  This is vital work, too, but only if it is complemented by far reaching examinations of the environment in which these things are occurring.  Otherwise, media consumers have the luxury of consumption without the challenge of understanding.  In many ways, so do reporters.

When reporters write about the challenges of aid groups without noting the problems that the presence of an aid group provide specifically (for example, several microcredit groups in Haiti provide low cost loans, but do so at an extremely high interest rate, making it difficult for participants to build really significant businesses off of microcredit), they negate the voice of the people. When reporters (or bloggers) search for what makes the story and not what is hard to do, see, and write, they skip past providing their readers with things that might carve a path to understanding (for example, the way that many people talk to/about foreigners based on stereotypical preconceived notions is indicative of  a xenophobia that has caused a ton of problems for this country). When these people do not or cannot immerse themselves or use their investigative talents to dig out a story, we are all left with summary explanations that lead us to forming surface level opinions.

Haiti needs sustained, investigative media coverage from national and international contributors. Only then can we begin not only to get the information out, but to get it out in ways that will build the understanding of the concerned people giving their time, energy, and money to supporting the country from near and far.  Only then can we really tell the story of the Haitian people in a way that allows us to share in their humanity. What's more, maybe if we can make this kind of media accessible to several groups of people inside the country, we can contribute to the formation of a true civil society within the country.

What nobody needs is the phrase, “The wealthy….”

I can’t even write it. Oy

Goumen pou sa’w kwe

KCH Photos and More

Check out pictures of many of our students and their schools at the link below:

http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2381983027/a=4179456027_4179456027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

And your Haiti news brief:
Government candidate Jude Celestin has been excluded from the presidential runoff in favor of Michel Martelly, who will face off with Mirlande Manigat in a few weeks. This means there is likely to be no trouble in the streets, at least for the time being.

 More about the complicated situation in the country:

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-haiti-women-20110204,0,1917968,full.story

 
http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/01/29/2041531/at-haitian-port-desperately-needed.html

Progress Updates

For the first 3 months I was in Haiti, I searched desperately to find some kind of rhythm. The rattle of Kreyol, the initially hectic nature of the taptap commute, and the occasional uncontrollable shock of witnessing poverty and hardship all threw me fairly far off my game.  Of course, this part of the experience was especially valuable. I found that I was learning even when I did not immediately recognize it, as my reflections on a single brief interaction, a minute part of my day, would yield the most frustrating challenges to my thought process.  It was also emotionally exhausting and, because of the incredible demand that true need puts on one’s conscience, it overwhelmed my sense of patience (which I have little of already) and my practical expectations. Besides rice, beans, and the caffeine rush of Haitian coffee just about every morning, there was not a whole lot on which I could hang my hat.

At these times, and we’ve all had them, one’s intellect kicks into overdrive, unconsciously working and scheming 25 hours a day, 8 days a week.  This is great when the need makes you want to work harder, but it’s damaging once you realize your intellectual hyperactivity has lead you around in circles to the same place you started.  

In short, emotionally draining hard work alone doesn’t lead to accomplishment, especially in a locale that is the hallmark of unreliability.  Instead, it sometimes overwhelms the ability to make the kinds of observations essential to solving problems that demand multiple techniques and tries (i.e. patient and thorough approaches). For all of you that just read the previous two sentences and thought, "Well, DUH," I will reassure you that I think I could have told you all this 5 five months ago. But this sentiment of patience is easily stated and not easily followed through upon.  This has rung especially true for me, as this is my first stay in Haiti.  Thus, the conundrum of the environment – until you realize your obsessiveness is hindering parts of the work, you will continue to try and squeeze a little blood out of the same rock, but by the nature of obsessiveness it’s not exactly easy to come upon such realizations. 

Before I start sounding like a self-help book: to sum up, sometimes it’s best to leave and come back.  These days, the work environment is interrupted, rather than dominated, by realizations of the challenges we continue to face looking to help Haiti.  The new of work environment is reviving and clearing up a few of the most vital challenges about our students, our work, and about Haiti for me.  These are some of the most frequently reappearing challenges that we face, and how KCH is handling them:

1)      How to engrain regular expectations and good habits in our students, who frequently have never independently set high goals or expectations for themselves or received such expectations from authority figures.

2)      How to do this in an educational system that encourages passivity in the learning process when we work with students outside their schools.

3)      How to solve the problem that presents itself in our giving of aid, more eloquently worded by Umi Viswanathan (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/uma-viswanathan/new-leadership-in-haiti_b_816087.html),

“I reflected on the way it feels to be an American working in Haiti. I have so much more to offer this country than my wallet. Haitians have so much more wisdom and ingenuity to offer the international community than a hand outstretched for charity. This power dynamic we're all locked into has eroded the human values of Haitians and the international community alike. It prevents authentic relationships from developing between Haitians and internationals as equals, and hinders in Haitians the sense of total responsibility for and leadership over Haiti's development.

Many Haitians do not feel they can transform Haiti because we have, together, created a reliance that teaches that someone from the outside is going to come and rescue Haiti, fix the system, create jobs, educate and feed Haitians. Somehow it's expected, from Haitians and from foreigners alike, that real change is going to happen in Haiti when the international community -- the NGOs, the UN, the private investors -- find the silver bullet that is going to solve Haiti's problems. Haiti's challenges, however, must be solved by Haitian leaders.”

This last point brings up perhaps the most important challenge; one that links so many of those that we face in Haiti: that personal responsibility, confidence, and self-empowerment essential to a student’s success no matter what opportunities they are being given (where they are going to school, what they are studying, the size of their business, etc.). These are also the most fragile of indicators and the most difficult to truly measure.  Just try making a line graph for self-empowerment progress.  

For all three issues, the simplest way to find an answer is in the way we think about the problems themselves. That is, we must concede to imperfection. Instead of trying to tackle the faulty school system, we realize that equally important to the actual things our students are learning in school or the way they learn them is that they see over time that they are responsible for the progress in their own lives and communities.  If their grades aren’t good enough, they will problem solve with their teachers, schools, and with KCH until they get better. 

As an organization, we can be a conduit to opportunity, but not a guarantee of success.  The most lasting contribution of KCH will hopefully be the encouragement of young people to understand the responsibility they have for their lives, communities, and country.  We aim to give our students not a map, but a compass.  For where a map provides directions to a set destination, a compass is a tool for continued exploration; all that’s needed is the explorer and the dream of his next discovery.

What’s next:

We are in the process of setting up community service projects which our students will be required to work on and eventually lead themselves, and we continue to search for ways to create and maintain healthy, productive relationships with our students we have while providing them with adequate financial and personal support. Of course, we continue to grow and discover new needs and projects that might challenge and support our students all the time. 

We are always grateful for financial support and donations of the equipment we so vitally need (computers, books in French, and other learning resources) and for those who want to volunteer their time to help KCH, whether it is with technology assistance, event planning, grant writing, etc.  Please check out kidsconnectionhaiti.org to donate and/or correspond about opportunities to help. Going forward, I’ll keep you updated as to how we are helping our students help themselves.

I've really appreciated and enjoyed all the comments and suggestions I've gotten in relation to these posts. Please keep me in tune with your thoughts and ideas. Thanks for following up to now and I hope you keep up!

Note: this is a direct clip from Huffington Post, not my work. It's very relevant to the Haitian situation and that which KCH faces in looking to build upon what we have and how our youth can affect the country. 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dyane-jean-fran/haitis-next-leader-to-do-_b_812373.html

By Dyane Jean Francois

To someone who lives in a democratic republic, a dictator is that cancerous sore in the body politic that Teddy Roosevelt warned the world about in 1910.

Of one man in especial, beyond anyone else, the citizens of a republic should beware, and that is of the man who appeals to them to support him on the ground that he is hostile to other citizens of the republic... that he will secure for those who elect him, in one shape or another, profit at the expense of other citizens of the republic.

This man is easily recognizable to those who live in peace. (That is why many people around the world are wondering why would any Haitian support Jean-Claude Duvalier's foray back into politics.) Unfortunately, in Haiti, where there is only strife and deprivation, a despot seems like a messiah.
The current economic situation in Haiti makes it an easy prey for despotism. There, life is lived out in high contrast, the starkest of which is to eat or not to eat. In such a desperate situation, it is not surprising that people would choose to eat, no matter what the cost. Political rectitude is a trifle in such a life. It is a place where one cannot easily stand on principle. First the belly, then the mind. First you eat, then you think.
Satisfying basic needs is then the best weapon of a despotic government. People living in violence and poverty will accept many things if they are promised security and food. As one woman who had lived under the Duvalier regime explained to me, "would you rather live with no freedom or a little freedom?" That she knew people disappeared or were tortured did not bother her because the violence was selective. She was free to lie in her bed at night, even if she could not sleep for fear she might be next.
The current conditions in Haiti right now make such bargains, little freedom over no freedom, highly attractive. Struggling to rebuild from last year's quake, grappling with the aftermath of the cholera outbreak, caught up in violence over the disputed presidential elections, the population is hungry for relief.
In order to free the nation from the temptation to return to despotic rule, Haiti's best leader must be more than a good administrator of UN funds, more than an honest politician. He or she must be a teacher.
The despotic tradition has taught Haitians that the government is a leviathan who, in exchange for obedience, would provide whatever the citizen wants. Ask and you shall receive, said the despot. The average Haitian needs to know that he is responsible for the kind of government the country tolerates.
The best leader for Haiti will be someone who will impress on the people that it is the responsibility of each citizen to safeguard security, rule of law, and initiate money-making ventures that contribute to long-term economic gain. It will be his or her responsibility to shatter their illusion that there is such a thing as a government that can save them from poverty and violence. It will be the next president's charge to convince them that democratic change starts with each one of them.
The other essential task of the next leader is to educate the children and youth. As we have seen from Hitler to Perón, all successful dictators, whether they rule by fear or charm, must starve the mind. Consequently revolutions often break out, as we are witnessing in Tunisia, when a great swath of the population has become well educated enough to question the governance of their leaders.
A good leader for Haiti will be someone who commits to universal education for children and the youth. An education that includes a cultivation of democratic ideals. Because if you do not know your rights, you will not ask for them. And, when they are threatened you will surely not defend them.

A Message from the Director

A call for support from Kids Connection Haiti - very soon I will give you an update of all the exciting projects KCH is involved in. Besides sponsors, we are always grateful for general contributions, which will help us put young people in school and start them on the path to self-empowerment and a sustainable life. Please read on:

Dear Supporter of Kids Connection Haiti,

Just over one year ago, a tremendous earthquake rocked Haiti, killing 250.00 people and devastating millions of lives. Now, one year later, the people in Haiti are still suffering from the devastation. A million people still live in tent cities, in unsafe, unhealthy and impoverished conditions. Unemployment is widespread. Natural disasters, an on-going cholera epidemic and political unrest make for insecurity and violence. The Haitian people still need your support. Only with sustainable support will Haiti do better.

Kids Connection Haiti is addressing the very need of sustained support. We are preparing young adults for a financially stable future, so that they can, in turn, reach out to a younger generation and establish a safer, more stable future for themselves and their communities. Our young adults are the next community leaders, the next managers, even the next politicians. With good education, self-confidence and respect for others, they can help improve Haiti.

Please consider being a part of this important change. Kids Connection Haiti needs sponsors to ensure continuity in the educational program that we offer. The sponsorship of a young adult will cost you no more than $25 per month. With your monthly contribution, a young adult can finish school, learn a profession or trade and create stability in her life and the lives of others around her. You will receive semi-annual  progress reports and a picture of the person you are sponsoring

Are you willing to share $25 each month to help a Haitian person establish a better life?

Please sign up now!  To do so, just reply to this e-mail with your name and address and you will be assigned a student in need and receive detailed information about our sponsorship program. 

Thank you so much for your continuous support.

Sincerely,

Astrid Fitzgerald

Astrid Fitzgerald

Founder and coordinator Kids Connection Haiti

PS: if you would like to contribute and are not able to do so on a monthly basis, please know that also your one time donation, no matter how small or how big, is greatly appreciated and will be sent directly to the support of our students in need. Please go to www.kidsconnectionhaiti.org to make your donation. Thank you very much!

 

Retou (return)

I returned to Haiti a week ago, January 11, on a half-full plane from Miami to a beautiful Caribbean day - hot and sunny with a dusty breeze coming off the street - complete with a signature PaP blokus (traffic jam) and a plate of rice and beans with warm bananas.  After a couple hours in the office, I headed up to mountain to Kenscoff, where Frantz was waiting at my house. 

For a while we stood on the cement balcony outside the house, catching up and talking about the differences between our last few weeks.

"No work tomorrow, ou konnen, paske se 12 janvier."

"Yea, I kind of figured. Ki sa w'a fe demen? Epi pep la - ki sa yo pral fe pou sonje?" (What will you do tomorrow? And the people - what will they do to remember?) 

He turned and looked at me. "Prey."

"At the church?"

"Everywhere."

January 12 was the calmest, most peaceful day I have seen in Haiti. At a time where nothing is certain in this country, stinging fear and tensity were absent, replaced by reverence. Some people marched in their good clothes to church, where they stayed the whole day; others remembered the people they lost on their own. Like any shared solemn and memorable day, every person remembers exactly where they were at the time of the trembleman de te; everyone has a mental image of how they reacted during and just after the earth beneath their feet shook violently for over 30 seconds. 

On the long days without work, I find it is best to content myself with the bel repoze - the beautiful relaxation; an art that Haitian people have mastered from adjusting to things never working properly.  I read books and then sat outside my house, observing the people walking by in their white and black dress clothes, then went on a walk up the mountain. 

There is a gray stone skeleton of a mansion past Tetbwape, the last real developed outcrop in Kenscoff, where the suburban feel of the town begins to erode into something more overtly rural. The building, complete with 12 foot columns and what would have been a sprawling balcony, was abandoned in 1986 after the man who commissioned it to be built, Jean Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier, was exiled from the country he brutally ruled for 15 years. It remains good for a foray into the world of a dictator and for housing a few families who have constructed little tin shacks using one of the overhanging rock slabs as a roof.  Like so much in Haiti, it is a reminder of the treacherous in the midst of the unique and beautiful.  In front of the house, in what would have been the tyrant’s sprawling yard, lies a long clay soccer field, framed by the spine of the mountains rippling off into the southwest. 

At the time of the house’s abandonment, there was a similar echo of some thread of hope throughout the country, as there is now.  Authorities and people alike have rallied to the idea that the earthquake gives Haiti a chance to “build back better.” As the finish of the Duvalier era did in 1986, the election of Aristide in 1991, and the bicentennial in 2004, offered hope, so does this chance born out of the earthquake.  But hope then was squelched by various power grabs and excuses, and hope now is not easily separable from cynicism. 

Four days later, without much explanation, Duvalier has returned on an Air France flight to Haiti, throwing the political climate into even greater uncertainty.  Absent for 25 years, people wanting of times when they could drink water without fear (although they could not freely speak their minds) speak about the dictator in fair, even glowing, terms. And so the people welcome back a man who endeavored to control the country’s problems with violence and who left it broke and vulnerable. Already, supporters of charismatic ex-President Jean Bertrand have called for his return from a six year exile in South Africa.  It seems that every big ego of Haitian politics is deciding that the current crisis and uncertainty warrants their help (read ‘help’: an easy chance to exploit things for their own gain).

And so another act begins in Haiti’s horrible parody.  MINUSTAH, Clinton, Preval, Duvalier, Cholera, Manigat, Mickey, 10,000 NGOs, and 2 million starving people – imagine a stage with scores of hungry actors all vying for one small spotlight.  One is hungry for power, another for money, another for victory, and still another for …. just food.  But which is which? Whose intent matches their words? Who knows the answers or even where to begin to find them?

Not me.

I know that I respect the hope and determination of the people knee deep in this mess; people like James, who wrote today, “I’d like to go to school or an institute to learn about interpretation to finally become somebody in my life, not a nobody, to be a useful person in society, and help those who can’t help themselves. If only I had the means I would.”

I know that I can’t stand the focus on one person or another and the corrupting entitlement that inevitably appears for the people in power here in Haiti.

I know, finally, that 3 months seems like an awfully short time now; but being back, I know that Haiti is to be under my skin, in my head, and provoking my thoughts far beyond then.

M’ap Swif (I’m following)


PS - Something you can do to help

http://www.ezilidanto.com/zili/2011/01/haiti-pres-obama-there-are-55000-reasons-to-be-fair-to-haitians/

 

Members of Congress have already proven that they are willing to take diplomatic action in Haiti (Vermont Senator Patrick Leahy has called for a passport freeze for Haitian government officials and their families until the electoral strive is resolved).  As mentioned in the article, 55,000 Haitian visas approved before the earthquake are being delayed behind thousands of other visas. These are legal immigrants already approved by the US government who could provide much-needed help to their countrymen (Diaspora contributions account for almost 25% of Haitian GDP).  So you can write your federal congresspeople and senators and remind them that Haiti is still in trouble and there is something very clear they can do to help - expedite these visas.

Let's make the one year anniversary rhetoric of continued support really mean something.

Just one this time

But this one is really good, and part about a guy where I live! Check it out:

http://www.slate.com/id/2279858/

Study Up, you

In lieu of a real blog post, here is some good information you can tap into to learn a little more about Haiti; promise I'll get back to writing soon!

Voices Full of Change: Some reflections on the past year in Haiti
http://www.thenational.ae/featured-content/channel-page/lifestyle/middle-teasers-list/voices-of-change?pageCount=0

Cholera Updates, with a long list of who to pray for (if that's what you're into)
http://www.reliefweb.int/rw/rwb.nsf/db900SID/VVOS-8CRS28?OpenDocument&rc=2&cc=hti

Edwidge Danticat is a renowned Haitian author; she reads interesting words about growing up as a girl in Haiti (among other things)
http://www.ted.com/talks/edwidge_danticat_stories_of_haiti.html

Peter Haas explains in this short presentation why Haiti's earthquake wreaked so much havoc
http://www.ted.com/talks/peter_haas_haiti_s_disaster_of_engineering.html

A short video about Haitian Voodoo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpeLdXeIbwA

Hope you enjoy and keep Haiti in your thoughts not because the holidays are coming to a close, not because the one-year anniversary of the earthquake is 9 days away, and not because of the protests; but because even when all these things pass the people of Haiti will need your support just as much.