January 29th: An Abundance of Geckos

All right, you lot?

Guess what? I am slowly learning the tricks of the trade here. I now know to check the ceiling for geckos before I open my front door in case one decides to fall on my head. I know that in order to raise the screen on my window, I have to give it a slight whack (or two or three). I know not to drink the tap water, that  cockroaches fly, and avocados are roughly three pounds.

This is the mango tree outside my window

                            

This weekend we went to the grocery store. And that's it, story's over, bye.
Just kidding, it was such a big deal. I can tell you right now that I will never again take the nearness of Cub Foods for granted. It was kind of an all day thing. Let me tell you about it, I'm sure you're really interested to hear about the grocery shopping.

Mum and I had made a list already, but we weren't exactly sure what was available. I mean, this is Haiti for Pete's sake. We left at 8 to beat the Sunday traffic, with our friends and neighbours C and M. All the way to Petyonville, about a 20-30 minute drive up the mountain. The whole drive up was dusty and bumpy, passing people in their Sunday best, little stands that sold single bottles of pop or juice, more cows and chickens. It was really on the way up that I saw some of the extreme poverty. We crossed a bridge over a small ravine and the ravine itself was filled-literally filled- with garbage. Bottles, plastic bags, scraps of clothing, and other less innocent things. A goat picked its way around the edge, while a few people walked through it, looking for salvageable items. The houses were crumbing concrete blocks with rusting metal, washing hanging on the line, crammed so close together that you couln't really see where one house left off and the next began.
The farther up the mountain we got, the more the road wound around until we were going around some serious hairpin turns. The houses also got bigger and nicer, fenced in with concrete walls topped with barbed wire. A very interesting contrast.

The stone walls topped with barbed wire



Ignore my finger. This is the view from the car window of our drive to Petyonville.

                                                                                                                 

Once we finally got to the Caribbean Grocery, it was about 8:30. We were completely floored by the variety of foods/brands available. They only had like two of everything, but a million different brands. Basically you can get anything here. We went to two groceries, stocking up for the next two weeks. That's another difference between our shopping in the States and our shopping here. When you go to the grocery here in Haiti, you stock up because most people go every other week. Run out of basil or forgot to get eggs? Better borrow from the neighbours or try to hitch a different ride on an off weekend with someone else.

We're getting a little more adjusted to life here, even though we're extremely sheltered within our compound. I'm relishing any time I get by myself, because it's rare here. Even as safe as we are in Canne-a Sucre (the name of the compound), we're supposed to be home before dark and are urged against going places alone, even to the grocery store. College will be a huge welcome change. Not that I dislike spending time with my parents, of course...I just miss being with people my age. I can't call up a friend and ask them to hang out. While our neighbours are fantastic and loads of fun, they're older than me yet younger than my parents, so we're in kind of a weird place.

I'll just have to make do, I suppose. So any friends reading this, please please come visit me! It's safe, I promise and we've only had one cockroach. Plus the geckos are really small, really cute and everywhere. I'm considering keeping one as a pet.

That's all for now, y'all. Peace out.

January 25th: The House With the Mango Tree

Well hey there. This is my first post from Haiti. I don't have any pictures I can post yet, but rest assured I will post some soon.

We landed in Port-au-Prince at around 4:30 on Thursday. Flying over Haiti was like flying over a different planet- so much of it is dry and brown but occasionally there was a burst of unexpected green, and the rivers wind around the landscape like pale snakes. The mountains have an odd appearance from above, as if someone took thick brown yarn and let it settle into a haphazard pile.
As soon as we stepped off the plane, we were greeted by a band of maybe six men playing Haitian kompa music, bongo drums and tambourines and something that resembled an accordian, among other instruments.
We were then ushered into a small room with no windows (!) where we surrendered our passports and waited. None of us were really sure what was happening, but eventually we were brought out and escorted out of the terminal.
 As soon as we walked out, we were accosted by people who waved their hands in our faces and asked if we were American, Ameriken, wi? Wi, mwen se Ameriken. Don't make eye contact, we were told by our escort. Don't say anything, just keep walking. Gripping our bags and trying to look inconspicuous (like that was possible), we walked to a VIP section of the parking lot that was surrounded by fencing topped with barbed wire.
There we met our wonderful friends A and C, who are also our sponsors (sponsors are responsible for making sure new arrivals get settled in their new houses, taken for tours of the embassy, taken to the grocery store, etc). Our nine suitcases were wedged in the back of one large van and we were wedged in another, and we were off.

This part is difficult to describe- not so much that the sights were sad or scary, just hard to describe in general. First thing about Haiti is the heat. It clings to you like a skin, worms its way into your nose and mouth until you're almost gasping. The air is a little acrid with the odour of burning garbage and has a hazy quality to it. The whole time we were on the airport road, the dust was billowing and there was so much to see. Women carrying plastic laundry baskets on their heads. Children running barefoot. An ox, chewing what little grass it could find in a ditch next to the road. Motorbikes weaving between large dusty vans, the mention of which leads me to the second thing about Haiti: there are basically no traffic laws. Sure, there's stop signs and occasionally a traffic light, but people weave in and out without any concern for safety.
Graffiti covers the stone walls that line the road. "So and so for President" was a common theme, the only variation was which name was inserted.
Brightly coloured trucks called Tap Tap are one of the forms of public transportation that we're forbidden from using. Onto the backs of these trucks that are often painted in primary colours and sometimes with pictures of Jesus, people cram themselves, somehow magically fitting what looks like ten people where four would be a tight squeeze.

We arrived at our house around 5:15, 5:30 and the first thing I noticed was that there is a tree protruding from our driveway. Not just any old tree, either- this is a mango tree. It's fantastic, even though none of the fruit is ripe yet. We did some unpacking, then went to our neighbour's house for dinner. It was surprisingly normal, and every now and again I had to remind myself where I was.

Today we toured the embassy (it's beautiful) and got our internet set up. Our sponsor C took us to a restaurant right outside the embassy called The Daily for breakfast. Mom and I had oatmeal which turned out more like porridge. I also had fresh sqeezed passionfruit juice- YUM. The fruit and veggies here are cheap and easy to come by: avocadoes, papayas, tomatoes, passionfruit, and my favourite, mangoes.

When I've had more time to adjust and get a feel for this country, I will post more. Hopefully I'll be able to describe it better next time!

Love and mangoes,

Soph

P.S. To be embarrassingly honest, I had to look up the plural form of mango. Mangos doesn't seem right but neither does mangoes. It is, in fact, the latter.

January 23rd: Little Red Car

Hey guys, did you forget this was a thing? I kind of did. Get out your reading glasses and turn off Moon Shiners or whatever the heck it is you're watching because it's BLOG TIME.

We are currently in Miami, FL. Dad had a full day of "consultations" at the airport where he got to sit in on interviews etc (and saw someone hauled off in handcuffs). What did Mum and I do? Sat on the beach, of course.

We arrived in Miami yesterday afternoon with all 9 large suitcases where I was immediately pestered by a lady who wanted to "borrow 17 dollars from me" and who asked for my name and address so she could "pay me back". No, I didn't fall for it of course, even though she fed me some sob story about her daughter being in the hospital with premature labour. My first hint that it was a scam? She said she was from "Illahnoise" (Illinois) pronouncing the S.
Which is not a thing. Promise.

So here's the cool part. We had a ton of frequent flyer miles so we got us a little red Mustang Convertible. I'VE NEVER BEEN IN ONE UNTIL NOW AND IT IS THE BEST THING OF LIFE. We drove around last night for at least an hour with the top down. With the navy sky, the wind turning my hair into dreadlocks, that damn Cranberries song playing, the skyline lit up and the palm trees black under the street lights, it was easy to forget why we're here.

Miami is an interesting city, let's focus on that for a moment. The area we're in is not the most high quality area, although you can tell it's on its way up. Looking at the buildings with their cracking sherbet coloured stucco and the palm fronds littering the sidewalk, it's hard to see the appeal that Miami Beach held in the 1940s and 50s when everyone came here for the winter (I'm thinking that book by Judy Blume, Starring Sally J. Friedman as Herself or whatever). There's hotel after hotel after hotel, The Carlton, The Vine, Ocean View Hotel, the Nassau, Beach Paradise Hotel, you get the idea. Luring in tourists  with the exotic wealthy names when in reality you get a lumpy mattress and bars over the window.
There's a huge contrast in the buildings. The Spanish architecture of the older structures right next to a sleek new condo building made of glass and shiny white plastic. It's an odd thing to walk down the street and see the difference.

Back to our time here: out to dinner tonight with a fellow FSO then we're repacking our suitcases which magically grew overnight. On and off for the past three or four days, i've been having "Holy shit I'm moving to Haiti" moments where I panic a little and have to fight the urge to flap my arms and run around in a circle screaming in terror. Then that urge fades and I get really excited.

Tonight, Miami. Tomorrow. THE WORLD (sort of).

January 19th: Approaching the End (kind of)

All right, let's get after it.

This past week has been crazy. Where do I start?

Monday was my birthday (yeah!) but instead of doing the normal thing, I spent seven hours in a Security Overseas Seminar. I believe I mentioned that last time- it was DANG COOL actually. Parts of it were less exciting but learning what to do if the embassy is attacked or if I'm kidnapped or carjacked or there's anthrax sent in the mail etc was all very interesting. That night the fam and I went to pub trivia at Ireland's Four Courts- a Monday night tradition- and our team name was It's My Birthday And I'll Win If I Want To. Sadly we did not win but I gave a Georgetown cupcake to the announcer so maybe next time.

Tuesday was a bit more of the same- seven more hours of SOS but then get this- I went out for dinner with friends. I actually had friends to go out with. It's a bloody miracle! Three of the other staffers met me at a restaurant in Chinatown and we chatted and ate good food. It was an astonishingly normal thing to do.(if any of you three are reading this, I had a really good time and I already miss complaining about annoying constituents with you guys)

Wednesday and Thursday were my last two days at the Cap. It was hard to leave, because I finally felt really comfortable there and was making friends. On Thursday as I rode the metro home, I may have shed a tear or two. It was difficult to leave my Minnesota friends the first time, but now I am leaving new friends and the comfort of a cool job. Plus I was supposed to lead a tour but the group never showed. I was pretty disappointed but I'm pleased overall with the job. Towards the end of the day, the intern director sent out an email to the office saying stuff like "this is Sophie's last day, be sure to say goodbye" etc and it was a very sweet sendoff (thanks again, M).

Friday was our packout, so ALL the stuff is gone (anything being shipped to Haiti). I no longer have my bathrobe or a lamp or a blanket on my bed, not to mention my beloved typewriter Stan. Stan is being shipped with our household things, so I probably won't see him for a few months :( Now we're just kind of hanging around our apartment until Tuesday when we leave. HOLY EXCITEMENT. I'll not be able to update right away when we get to Haiti, but I'll do it as soon as I am able.

Keep it real, y'all. S'laters

January 13th: Happy Birthday To Me (almost)

All right, let's do this thing.

I have a cool story to share. Two weeks ago, I got to go along to the swearing-in ceremony for the Senator I intern for...as the Purse Holder. (They're not allowed to bring bags inside the Senate chamber so I stayed outside for the most part). But here is the cool part: there's a staff subway that travels between the different office buildings and the Capitol itself. I was crammed in one car with the Senator and maybe ten other people. I stood near the door, trying to make myself invisible since everyone there was important and unaware of my name. An older gentleman stood next to me, holding on to the handrail. As the train started, it lurched so I grabbed on to the handrail as well.
"I'm just going to hang on here, if that's okay," I said to the gentleman next to me. "I don't want to fall into you!"
He smiled at me and said "oh, there'd be worse things!"
I returned his smile, thinking to myself: "awww, the Senator has such a cute old uncle/dad/friend!"
As we disembarked, another group of people approached ours and I saw the Senator put her arm around that same gentleman and say, "Oh, let me introduce you to my friend, Walter Mondale!"

OH MY GOD. I PRETTY MUCH HELD HANDS WITH WALTER MONDALE AND IT'S TOTALLY FINE BECAUSE I'M NOT EXCITED ABOUT IT OR ANYTHING.

But don't worry, the story gets cooler. At the reception for our Senator, I was working the door as a greeter. "Hi, welcome to the reception, please fill out a name tag and take some Minnesota trivia with you!"
I was doing that like it was my day job (well...) when I saw some armed men walking down the hallway.
"Hmmm," I thought to myself. "Those are some large firearms. Who are they protecting?"
then all of a sudden, here comes Joe Biden, the Vice President of the United States and GUESS WHAT HE DID? HE WINKED AT ME, THAT'S WHAT.
Then to top it all off, John McCain waved at me. I spent the next hour practically hyperventilating and smiling my face off and thinking "wow I am the coolest girl in the world, Walter Mondale is my BFF and so is the VP! Maybe they'd want to hang out..."

So I have a really cool job. I adore it.

In other news, my birthday is approaching and guess what I get to do? I have a two day Security and Protocol training at the State Department. So I will spend my birthday learning what to do if my house is attacked or if the Embassy is invaded or other scary things. It's fine. I'm over it. (I'm actually pretty excited).

Well. It's been good y'all. Stay safe and keep it real.