February 27th: Sorry This is Going to Be Boring

Hello hello, all, no time for a long fancy thing but I'll whip up something quick, how does that sound? 

A couple things have occured in the past week. First things first, our UAB (unaccompanied air baggage) came today, hip hip hooray! This means that we've now got a lot of our cooking things, some more clothes, my owl shower curtain, my typewriter and some other odds and ends. What I'm really hoping to get soon is our HHE (household equipment or something like that), which has my books in it. Dunno when we'll get that but I'm itching for stuff to read, as I've read the ones I have at least three times already since we've been here.

This past Sunday night was an Oscars party over at the embassy. Not many people attended but the few that did dressed up in ball gowns and tuxes. Since we didn't have our fancy things yet, I wore a work dress. Luckily, our neighbour L had an extra ball gown that she let me try on and it fit wonderfully, so I wore that on the red carpet. It was a good time, I was pleased to hear that Argo won Best Picture and Anne Hathaway won Best Supporting Actress.

Tuesday was my first day at REBUILD Globally, an organization that, among other things, makes high quality sandals out of recycled tires and leather jackets (they strip the lining from the jackets and use the outer leather for the shoes). My friend W and I will be helping out there a few days a week. One of our responsibilities is to get the garden up and running, which I am excited about. There's a lot of freedom to come up with our own projects, which I really enjoy. W is also working on getting a soccer field cleared out for the kids to play on. More on that later, because I've only had one day there so far.

Today (aside from our UAB), I seem to have come down with the Haitian Sensation. Not sure how - I probably accidentally swallowed some of the tap water or something -  but I'm feeling kind of gross. Woe is me. Whine whine whine.

Movie night tonight with the 'rents. Spaghetti for dinner? Spaghetti for dinner.
More later.

s'laters

February 18th: I Don't Have A Good Title

Hey, you all still hangin in there? Don't get too excited, maybe just put Hoarders on mute because this post isn't thrilling enough for you to actually turn it off (and besides that show is grossly fascinating, am I right?)

Hmmm. So. Again I don't have anything huge to report, just a few small things. Last week my dad had a few days off, so he and I did some fun things. There's a big hotel, the Karibe, which is up the mountain a bit. It's quite luxurious, and it's become a thing to go there for the day to take advantage of the pool. You pay a fee up front, then throughout the day you can order drinks/food and it's deducted from your fee. Pretty slick. It was so relaxing and peaceful up on the mountain. The air was cleaner up there, and we had a lovely view of the mountainside. It's not something we would do every weekend, but when you really need a break from the compound or the embassy, it's perfect. A lot of people will go away for a weekend to nice beaches in the north or south, sometimes to the Dominican Republic. It's nice that it's so close; in fact we're going there to meet up with my older brother for his spring break. So if anyone wants anything, let me know.

The lobby at the Karibe

the pool and swim-up bar

More of the pool

Cool entrance

view of the mountainside

Dad and I also had ourselves a little adventure yesterday. One of his coworkers, S, had a "Drinks & Dogs" happy hour up at his house near Petyonville. We're currently dog-sitting for our neighbour A, so we decided to go. We're also borrowing her car, since ours hasn't come yet. On our way up, we mostly knew where to go until we tried to find Rue de Frere (the road we needed). Dad accidentally turned a street early, so we wound up driving all over the place trying to get back onto Rue de Frere. M, the dog, was so startled by some of the pot holes we drove over that he launched himself into my lap and sat there, shaking, until we arrived at S's house, thoroughly jolted and feeling a little sick. All in all, it was an adventure but not one I'd like to go on any time soon.

Today was a bit odd. I went with some friends G and C to an art gallery, which was beautiful. Of course, I ran into some slight problems called I Forgot My Wallet and Carsickness Due To Eating Before Driving. Unfortunately C wasn't feeling so hot either, so we had to call it a day and head home. Positive side: I saw some absolutely beautiful art. Expensive, but lovely. The art here is so colourful and bright, heavy on the orange and green and yellow. It can be a bit overwhelming, but I really fancied this painted metal gecko that hung on a wall. It was kind of like Australian Aboriginal "dot art", just different colours and patterns.

I am currently sitting on my bed in my room with M the dog snoring next to me. He's a pug and he likes to sleep at the foot of my bed-under the blankets- and he snores like none other. It's nice to have something to look after right now, when I don't really have anything to do or anyone to hang out with.
I am starting to miss DC, because of how much freedom I had there, the friends I was making and the cool places I could visit. I do like it here, it just so happens to be extremely limited.
Cool thing though- my friend E is coming to visit at the end of March! I'm excited beyond words, because I want nothing more than to share this place with all my friends. I'm already making a list of the things we'll be doing...I'll keep you posted. That's the point of this, after all.

Right, I realize that wasn't a super interesting post but ya know, I work with what I have. S'laters, keep it real.

February 10th: Hodge Podge

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. I regret to inform you that I don't have anything super exciting to report, but I do have several random small things that you may find interesting.
    On Monday, Mum and I did a Gangnam Style flashmob with a bunch of other people. We went in the middle of the embassy cafeteria and even the ambassador stood up with us at the very end. It was a pretty good time. I've never done a flashmob before but you can be sure that later that day, I spent like an hour on YouTube watching random flashmob videos.

    On Tuesday, The Red Cross came to the embassy yesterday and people could donate blood. They didn't have a traditional setup, in fact it was a large coach designed specifically for blood donations. It was probably the quickest blood donation I've ever done. Took less than 15 minutes to actually donate, which is fantastic. I've only done it several times before in MN, and I won't be allowed to donate for at least a year after I return to the States, but it's good to know that I can do it here.

     Mum and I have gone to the pool on our compound a few times, so I'm a little bit more brown- actually, I should say I'm a little bit less pale (which is saying something, I'm pretty sure I glow in the dark here). Wednesday I was out of commission all day with a migraine, but on Thursday I was back up and running. Mum left Thursday morning to go back to MN to see my brother swim at his conference meet (proud of you bro!) so I've been mostly on my own for the last couple days. Dad and I went out for dinner on Friday with our neighbours and friends, A, A and C. I had sushi for the first time and it was delicious! Figures that it would take a trip to the Caribbean for me to try sushi, though. And miso soup. And endamame. Let's just move past it, okay?

    Yesterday (Saturday) we went up to a restaurant in Petyonville called Fior de Latte. They have the best pizza and gelato- I got the passionfruit flavour and it had been scooped inside a hollowed out, frozen solid passionfruit. Amazing. We also checked out an Irish pub of all things, called The Irish Embassy. It serves Guiness and good Irish pub food as well as Haitian food. We were kind of dumbfounded that in Haiti there is a decent Irish pub to be found. My inner leprechaun was dancing a wee jig (sorry, sorry, I know).

     This weekend I am also semi-dog sitting for our other neighbours. They have a son who is my age, W, and his dog B is probably the best behaved dog I've ever met (sorry Snickers!!). He's a Catahoula hound or something, and so tall that I can rest my hand on his back when he's walking next to me. The Haitians are generally wary of dogs, even small ones, but the guards around Canne-a Sucre know him by name and greet him as "B the Big Dog".

   Today my dad and I went along with our neighbour A to a little market about half a mile down the road. It's not as big or as well stocked as the other grocery stores but it's close and it has the essentials. On the way back, we were marveling at the drainage ditches which are now full of water. It rained last night, and now people use the water in the ditches to wash their cars, water their plants and to bathe. A young boy stood unabashedly naked by the side of the road, scooping the brackish looking water into cupped hands to clean himself.

    The weather has not changed; it is unwaveringly, mercilessly hot every day in spite of the rain at night. That is an odd thing about Haiti- it rains at night and then in the morning, there are suddenly sixteen new potholes on the streets outside that weren't there yesterday. The litter is unbelievable, and it is everywhere but in Canne-a Sucre. We live in a bubble, which is a mixed basket of feelings. On one hand, it's nice for us to have air conditioning and clean houses, but on the other hand we know we're not experiencing 'the real Haiti.' We are encouraged against walking anywhere but to the embassy and around our compound, and in some areas we're required to have an armed escort. It's very eye opening to drive around and see the poverty, and it's also very easy to be shocked from the comfort and security of a locked car or an air conditioned house. The guilt I feel is sometimes overpowering but I also know that this was the best decision I have ever made, to put off school and move here.
    I do miss having my friends here, and I wish I could adequately explain what it's like here so you all could experience it with me. It is nothing like I thought it would be, and yet I feel like I've been here for months instead of two and a half weeks. I haven't been homesick yet, and I kind of wonder if I will be. Sometimes in the morning I'll wake up and have to go through each "home" before I remember where I am. Minnesota? DC? Haiti? I've had three homes in the past year, which is a very strange thought. But I am happy here, just like I was happy in DC and Minnesota. I guess when you move around a lot, you make a home wherever you are.
   

February 3rd: Hands Together to Defend the Children

Howdy, don't you look mighty nice? I like your shirt today. Let's move on.

Today (Sunday) my parents and I, as well as five or six other people, went to visit an orphanage. There's a group that goes once a week to visit Hands Together to Defend the Children, an orphanage and school a few miles away from the embassy. The entire experience was as difficult and rewarding as one would expect- no, it was more so.

      As soon as we step out of the car, there are twenty or so children crowding around us, some smiling at us openly, others more hesitantly. Some just stare at our group for a while. Their ages range from 2 to early teens. They are clean, well kept. One little boy grabs my dad's hand and tugs at it. I smile at the little girls, wave at them. It is blistering hot.
     Inside the concrete building where they sleep and eat, it is cooler. Their caretakers have them line up in front of the table and sing a Welcome Song, which they do after several false starts and a countoff in French. Childish voices, wavering and careless of notes, tell us "welcome, welcome to you. Welcome, welcome to all of you." One of the younger boys keeps stealing glances at me, and as I wave at him, he ducks shyly behind a taller girl before peeking out at me again. As soon as they finish, the leader of our group pulls out a box of small prizes- lollipops, Barbies, a Hot Wheels set, various children's toys that are obviously, painfully, someone else's cast offs. Others are new and wrapped in plastic- such as a papery Disney princess toy that is reminiscent of a New Year's Eve party favour (blowing into one end to make the other end expand).
     A girl, around 5 or 6, ignores the toys and climbs on the bench where I'm sitting. She touches my hair, which is half up. When she tugs at the band and I pull it out, she laughs at how my hair suddenly falls all over the place. I give the band to her and she yanks my hair back into something resembling a ponytail, all the while chattering at me in Creole. I nod and laugh like I know what she is saying, and that seems to satisfy her.
     I am then led on a tour of the facility, going through three sleeping rooms and out to the kitchen. The sleeping rooms have five or six sets of bunk beds in them, thin hard mattresses on all. Mosquito nets are bundled into wads of yellow above the top bunks. Boys in one, girls in the next, babies and caretakers in the others. The kitchen is half outside, and the leader of our group, L, says that it is rice and beans, rice and beans, rice and chicken, rice and beans, every day. People have donated food time and time again, but the most common meal consists of rice and beans.
     As W- another member of our group- and I go back inside, three of the boys crowd around the doorway of a sleeping room. W stops to high five them and ask them their names. They speak a little English. Do you like football, W asks, and they grin and nod, showing gaps in their smiles where baby teeth have fallen out. I used to play football at school, W says. Football or soccer? I wonder, and he smiles and says American football. He follows the boys outside and I sit on the bench with the little girl who did my hair and another boy. They have a small battery operated keyboard (about a foot long) that plays prerecorded songs. They bang away on the small plastic keys, sending tinny music into the air. She grabs at my sunglasses and puts them on upside down, laughing at how they fall right off her little face. She then puts them on the boy playing the keyboard and I laugh. He looks like a miniature jazz musician, crouched on a dusty concrete floor.
      One of the caretakers sets a tiny girl on the bench next to me. She is crying and without any prompting from me or the caretaker, she winds her little baby arms around my neck and cries into my shoulder. She is wearing a denim dress and her hair is cut extremely short. She is two at the most, tiny and limp with heat. She continues to hold onto me and I pat her back, pick her up and walk her around. She stops crying and instead loops one arm around my neck and grabs the front of my shirt with the other. Her eyes are wide open and her head swivels back and forth. I give her the little Disney party favour and she holds it, unsure of what to do with it. I try to show her, but she just rolls and unrolls the tissue paper at the end, smiling when it snaps back. After she slides off my lap, another little girl comes over to me. Her head is drooping and I can tell she's tired. Sure enough, almost as soon as I pick her up, she falls asleep.
Human contact, that's all they need, says T, another member of our group. That's all it takes.
     I marvel at how true that is. The little girl- I am ashamed that I don't know her name- buries her head in my shoulder and snuffles in that baby way, her legs limp against my stomach. When I try to shift her postition, her head lolls back. She is deeply asleep. I am directed to one of the sleeping rooms where I carefully set her on the bottom mattress. She doesn't wake up, even when one of the caretakers adjusts her position.
     I go outside where a breeze is finally blowing. I am sweating like mad and I'm pretty sure my hair looks like I got electrocuted, but it is so damn hot that anything I do is futile. A small boy, B, cries when L tries to pick him up.
    He's mad at me, she laughs. I haven't been here in two weeks so now he's mad.
I smile at him and he comes over to me, arms raised. As I bend down, he jumps up so I am carrying him. He is the third child I have carried around today and my arm is aching, but I don't even think of setting him down. Instead, I sit on a chair with him in my lap until he starts to squirm. We go into the yard, which is dirt and rocks, a tree or two, an old and rusty car that looks like it hasn't been driven in years. A dog, chained to a post at the back, barks at us. I make a woofing sound and B does too. We grin at each other, finally speaking the same language- dog.
     Eventually he too starts to fall asleep. You get all the sleepers, Dad jokes, but he's sort of right. He is the second child to fall asleep in my lap today. One of the caretakers gently lifts him out of my arms, but he wakes and squirms until he is free. By then it is time to go, and it is slowly and with many goodbyes that we leave. They wave, they ask for high fives and hugs and fist bumps and more sweets and more high fives. One of the boys, also named B, runs around and around our car. He is wearing shiny black boots that must have been new. He dusts them off carefully before moving off to the side with the rest of the group so our car can ease out of the gate.
    W and I will be back next week, we decide. As often as we can, we will go. It's a bittersweet experience, poignant and sharp with guilt. Next week, I think, next week I will bring something to share.


To learn more about this particular orphanage, click on the link below. There are photos of the children as well as a video about the orphanage itself.

http://www.edvolunteers.org/defend-children-orphanage-new-house