Monday-Sunday, May 3-9, 2010
The highlights from this week sadly included the fact that so many of us were struggling with some physical ailments. School with the children was a challenge because Riah and Tessa had been diagnosed with scabies. Of course, that diagnosis left the rest of us hyper-sensitive to our own itchy skin and made life practically unbearable for them until the medicine started to work.
Wednesday, Nicole came down with something so I "led" Bibliotec in the afternoon. It was a much more relaxed event than normal, but I took Bingo to play and some paper, pencils, and crayons to allow for coloring. The time went well for the majority, but by the end I had come down with a headache unbeknownst to me which didn't help with the children decided they didn't want to listen or respect me. Despite the designated time having passed, this combination led to an abrupt ending to our time together. I ate dinner, briefly decompressed, and went to bed.
The rest of the week was touch and go for me as far as an illness was concerned. The Carlins and I left on Friday for a weekend in Jacmel, but I was not interested in much of anything. I did walk down to the beach on Saturday afternoon for a spectacular view, particularly as I gazed back up at the hotel (unfortunately I forgot my camera in the room). The traveling did not help my stomach at all.
The drive back on Sunday was quite memorable in some ways. Mike and I sat in the truck bed with Clement. It rained, so we covered our laps and the bags in the back with a tarp. The guys were cold by the time we reached the top of the mountain and took towels to wrap over their heads. Mike commented that he felt like old women. I joked about the fact that I didn't need my long-sleeve shirt as protection from the sun afterall. Haitians on the road seemed to really enjoy the sight of a couple of blans getting wet. In the last 10 minutes of the drive, I saw a moto (motorcyle) with 5 people on it, Mimi (our driver) forgot about the last bump in the road and bounced us practically right out of the truck, and a SUV full of drunk guys yelled for our attention as they passed us just to immediately turn off on a side road. The roads in Haiti are known for their danger. This day proved the vast number of ways that danger can present itself.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
almost famous
Sunday, May 2, 2010
In church this morning, I began to connect some of the dots in language. Even in Haiti, church has its own vocabulary at times. The pastor has copied songs and distributed those papers to the congregants. As I sat in the service, I began to translate some of the words I didn't know. The songs actually made sense thanks to the rest of the Kreyol I have been learning. It helps to know that I'm singing words I believe and not just some randomness.
In the afternoon I went for another walk. Before I even passed the end of our fence, I was joined by 3 of my little friends. They kept circling me, each trying to get a better grasp of my hands/fingers. It made walking difficult, but their enthusiasm made me smile. They asked to show me their houses, as they have on other occasions. I agreed finally. As we walked off the beach and through the banana plants, heads began turning. Most smiled and welcomed me. Many of the children knew me and some joined our group. I was introduced to families and friends. Some showed me where their houses were, now piles of rubble with a few columns standing or structures with compromised walls. They pointed out the tarps or huts where they were now sleeping. Adults invited me to sit down and talk with them, but I knew I was expected back at the compound and wanted to try to see the other child's house before I had to return. Little did I realize this meant walking to the nearest tent camp, winding through the narrow pathways to an "open-door" where one of their mothers slept. The children insisted on waking her, but I don't think she was overjoyed to see me standing there when she sat up. She was cordial, and thankfully I still needed to return home.
On the walk back, our numbers doubled. I now had at least a dozen children vying for my attention. Some of them I regularly saw and interacted with, but others were relatively new. Before I was half-way home, they were hanging on my arms and fighting for the right to walk directly next to me. The older children were instructing the younger ones to give me space and stop. The farther we went, the more attention we drew. After a while, I was beginning to feel as if the paparazzi was following me which is a strange experience but is the closest description I can imagine. Many people in the local village recognize me and know my name. They use it frequently, calling out just to say hello. I don't know half of them, but somehow I stand out in their memories, even if they've only seen me in passing :)
The rains may have finally decided to come today. We had an amazing storm in the early evening, and despite the storm, God still provided an amazing sunset with the sun's rays appearing to jut upwards above the house. I enjoyed walking in the rain to gather some vegetables for dinner. Instead of spending time watching a movie, I was occupied watching the sky lit up by various shades of lightning. I never knew lightning could be so colorful: green, blue, purple, and pink. Oh the things I am learning. Hopefully the rainy season will finally come for the sake of the farmers here.
In church this morning, I began to connect some of the dots in language. Even in Haiti, church has its own vocabulary at times. The pastor has copied songs and distributed those papers to the congregants. As I sat in the service, I began to translate some of the words I didn't know. The songs actually made sense thanks to the rest of the Kreyol I have been learning. It helps to know that I'm singing words I believe and not just some randomness.
In the afternoon I went for another walk. Before I even passed the end of our fence, I was joined by 3 of my little friends. They kept circling me, each trying to get a better grasp of my hands/fingers. It made walking difficult, but their enthusiasm made me smile. They asked to show me their houses, as they have on other occasions. I agreed finally. As we walked off the beach and through the banana plants, heads began turning. Most smiled and welcomed me. Many of the children knew me and some joined our group. I was introduced to families and friends. Some showed me where their houses were, now piles of rubble with a few columns standing or structures with compromised walls. They pointed out the tarps or huts where they were now sleeping. Adults invited me to sit down and talk with them, but I knew I was expected back at the compound and wanted to try to see the other child's house before I had to return. Little did I realize this meant walking to the nearest tent camp, winding through the narrow pathways to an "open-door" where one of their mothers slept. The children insisted on waking her, but I don't think she was overjoyed to see me standing there when she sat up. She was cordial, and thankfully I still needed to return home.
On the walk back, our numbers doubled. I now had at least a dozen children vying for my attention. Some of them I regularly saw and interacted with, but others were relatively new. Before I was half-way home, they were hanging on my arms and fighting for the right to walk directly next to me. The older children were instructing the younger ones to give me space and stop. The farther we went, the more attention we drew. After a while, I was beginning to feel as if the paparazzi was following me which is a strange experience but is the closest description I can imagine. Many people in the local village recognize me and know my name. They use it frequently, calling out just to say hello. I don't know half of them, but somehow I stand out in their memories, even if they've only seen me in passing :)
The rains may have finally decided to come today. We had an amazing storm in the early evening, and despite the storm, God still provided an amazing sunset with the sun's rays appearing to jut upwards above the house. I enjoyed walking in the rain to gather some vegetables for dinner. Instead of spending time watching a movie, I was occupied watching the sky lit up by various shades of lightning. I never knew lightning could be so colorful: green, blue, purple, and pink. Oh the things I am learning. Hopefully the rainy season will finally come for the sake of the farmers here.
arbor day
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Today was a special day for Haiti and especially for our project. Arbor day had come once again and parties were in order throughout the country. Within the CODEP project, two parties were transpiring. At one point, an idea had been discussed where the Carlin family and I would be attending both. We were to be the honored guests. We did go to one of the parties, but for reasons I still don't understand we did not travel on to the next one.
Joyful celebrating announced the festivities as the people in the mountain gathered together. Silhoe, where we helped erect the tents a while ago, was the chosen location for the day's events. People lined all the available space up the hill and congregated under every shaded space until they were forced to stand in the sun. Straw hats, some with various shades of brown, pink, and green, were being sold and purchased by many. Vendors established "corners" to sell snack treats, which indicated the morning started well before we arrived.
In past years, we would have walked through portions of the project and people would have worked to plant some trees. However this year, the rains haven't come and it was decided that it would be wasteful to plant the little trees from the nurseries until the grounds were truly saturated. Instead we moved right to the welcome speeches and meal. Various community/project leaders addressed the crowd. The school children performed some songs and marches for everyone. The blans were presented and thanked. A band including a guitar, trombone, trumpet, and drums among other instruments played select pieces. As people were dismissed, they danced in progression seemingly to designated areas.
The Carlins and I, along with the staff we brought and a few other prominent community members, were seated under one of the larger tents to await food. We were served first. Nicole was expected to serve for the group there. I was introduced to "Haitian portions" which is literally a mound of food covering the plate. An authentic meal of diri kole, poul, pickliz, and legime yo were served (rice with beans, chicken, hot cabbage relish, and vegetables which we don't eat off the compound because chances are they have not been treated for us).
The morning for us was mostly sitting under this tent observing the gaiety around us. I was surprised by the amount of chatting that occurred during the welcome speeches. I enjoyed seeing the smiling faces of all. Being an honored guest when only a handful of the people had even met me was uncomfortable. Eating in front of the Haitians, especially the children, was difficult despite the knowledge that they would be served lunch in short time (the large group had to served in shifts).
One man I saw at the party was moving around using his hands. At first I thought he must have been injured in the earthquake, but then I saw his deformed feet and realized he was likely born without the ability to use his feet and therefore legs. He was probably in his 50s, but he got around as well as anyone else I know. His feet curled underneath his body as a chair. His arms practically acted as legs while his knees seemed to offer some assistance in propelling forward motion. Once again, I was struck by the many blessings I have as an American and as a person with a fully functioning body. There's a joke that Haiti is not handicap accessible. Either that is only true for people coming from other nations or people in Haiti aren't handicap due to a basic need to survive.
I almost experienced riding in a Tap-Tap today (the "public" transportation system). On our way up to the party, we had quite a truck full of people... 12 people in a crew cab pickup. You might think that's a lot, but on the way down the mountain I believe the number reached 17 total. I honestly believe we would have found a little more space for another individual had the need existed. Tap-taps operate the same way.
Today was a special day for Haiti and especially for our project. Arbor day had come once again and parties were in order throughout the country. Within the CODEP project, two parties were transpiring. At one point, an idea had been discussed where the Carlin family and I would be attending both. We were to be the honored guests. We did go to one of the parties, but for reasons I still don't understand we did not travel on to the next one.
Joyful celebrating announced the festivities as the people in the mountain gathered together. Silhoe, where we helped erect the tents a while ago, was the chosen location for the day's events. People lined all the available space up the hill and congregated under every shaded space until they were forced to stand in the sun. Straw hats, some with various shades of brown, pink, and green, were being sold and purchased by many. Vendors established "corners" to sell snack treats, which indicated the morning started well before we arrived.
In past years, we would have walked through portions of the project and people would have worked to plant some trees. However this year, the rains haven't come and it was decided that it would be wasteful to plant the little trees from the nurseries until the grounds were truly saturated. Instead we moved right to the welcome speeches and meal. Various community/project leaders addressed the crowd. The school children performed some songs and marches for everyone. The blans were presented and thanked. A band including a guitar, trombone, trumpet, and drums among other instruments played select pieces. As people were dismissed, they danced in progression seemingly to designated areas.
The Carlins and I, along with the staff we brought and a few other prominent community members, were seated under one of the larger tents to await food. We were served first. Nicole was expected to serve for the group there. I was introduced to "Haitian portions" which is literally a mound of food covering the plate. An authentic meal of diri kole, poul, pickliz, and legime yo were served (rice with beans, chicken, hot cabbage relish, and vegetables which we don't eat off the compound because chances are they have not been treated for us).
The morning for us was mostly sitting under this tent observing the gaiety around us. I was surprised by the amount of chatting that occurred during the welcome speeches. I enjoyed seeing the smiling faces of all. Being an honored guest when only a handful of the people had even met me was uncomfortable. Eating in front of the Haitians, especially the children, was difficult despite the knowledge that they would be served lunch in short time (the large group had to served in shifts).
One man I saw at the party was moving around using his hands. At first I thought he must have been injured in the earthquake, but then I saw his deformed feet and realized he was likely born without the ability to use his feet and therefore legs. He was probably in his 50s, but he got around as well as anyone else I know. His feet curled underneath his body as a chair. His arms practically acted as legs while his knees seemed to offer some assistance in propelling forward motion. Once again, I was struck by the many blessings I have as an American and as a person with a fully functioning body. There's a joke that Haiti is not handicap accessible. Either that is only true for people coming from other nations or people in Haiti aren't handicap due to a basic need to survive.
I almost experienced riding in a Tap-Tap today (the "public" transportation system). On our way up to the party, we had quite a truck full of people... 12 people in a crew cab pickup. You might think that's a lot, but on the way down the mountain I believe the number reached 17 total. I honestly believe we would have found a little more space for another individual had the need existed. Tap-taps operate the same way.
po ko (not yet)
Wednesday-Friday, April 28-30, 2010
As I continue with my routine activities, I find myself pondering my observations more and more frequently. With time, I have become more and more curious about life in Haiti and have not yet determined answers to so many of these questions. I desire to better understand what I see and what interactions mean to Haitians. What is appropriate? How do they interpret each other's actions? How do they interpret the actions of blans? Does my understanding of a word or action match their understanding of the very same thing?
For instance, I rarely take my camera on my walks along the beach. Occasionally I take it for a reason, but not often. On Wednesday, I took with me when Nicole, her children, and I walked with the Bibliotec children to see where they were keeping their plants we'd assisting them with in previous weeks. The Haitian children wanted very specific pictures taken with their plants, which translates culturally. But some children who don't attend Bibliotec joined the walk after some time. Many of them I knew from my frequent walks. They also wanted their picture taken ...but at least part of the reason is because they want me to print the photo and bring it to them later. I have known this reality for some time now, but don't hesitate to explain that I only have the ability to see the photo but not make one to hold. Some people will then continue on without having their picture taken.
Some of the older children also began a conversation with me about the differences between the past directors and Mike and Nicole. These children frequently say that Mike and Nicole are cheap/stingy because they don't give hand outs or treat the children on the beach the same as the previous directors did. I don't have enough Kreyol to better explain the motivations, which in the course of the conversation I realized was probably OK because I'm not sure the reasons would actually help the situation. The children miss Kathy and Rick, which is only natural. They want life to be different, which is only natural. Trying to explain different philosophies on missions and helping people doesn't always make sense to adults, much less to teenagers and children. Add the cultural differences to the mix and I'm convinced time is practically the only way to properly communicate these thoughts (through developed, ongoing relationships).
Questions about life in general are constantly crossing my mind. On Friday afternoon while we drove to visit friends of the Carlins, I got the chance to talk about life as I've seen in the states with Guito as he discussed life here in Haiti as he has known it. Guito works on the compound. He's in his mid- to late-twenties, 27 if I remember correctly. He has chosen to remain single so far and shared some of his reasons, such as recognizing the need for money before becoming responsible to feed a family. He talked about how many people don't have a job or home beforehand and aren't prepared as he would like to be. For certain populations in the states, that reality is also true.
What was also interesting in this conversation (which was come forth in similar ones) is that when I say I don't want a husband or children, I am often corrected to saying I don't YET want those things in my life. I think most Americans would understand that my not wanting indicates now with a question mark on when, but doesn't seem to translate here. I don't know if "po ko" means I don't want it now but want it for my future, or if it just assumes that everyone will one day want a family of their own because God says it is good (which is another response I often receive). Maybe saying "po ko" just leaves the decision in God's hands and recognizes that I haven't reached that point in life yet. I don't know. Po ko.
As I continue with my routine activities, I find myself pondering my observations more and more frequently. With time, I have become more and more curious about life in Haiti and have not yet determined answers to so many of these questions. I desire to better understand what I see and what interactions mean to Haitians. What is appropriate? How do they interpret each other's actions? How do they interpret the actions of blans? Does my understanding of a word or action match their understanding of the very same thing?
For instance, I rarely take my camera on my walks along the beach. Occasionally I take it for a reason, but not often. On Wednesday, I took with me when Nicole, her children, and I walked with the Bibliotec children to see where they were keeping their plants we'd assisting them with in previous weeks. The Haitian children wanted very specific pictures taken with their plants, which translates culturally. But some children who don't attend Bibliotec joined the walk after some time. Many of them I knew from my frequent walks. They also wanted their picture taken ...but at least part of the reason is because they want me to print the photo and bring it to them later. I have known this reality for some time now, but don't hesitate to explain that I only have the ability to see the photo but not make one to hold. Some people will then continue on without having their picture taken.
Some of the older children also began a conversation with me about the differences between the past directors and Mike and Nicole. These children frequently say that Mike and Nicole are cheap/stingy because they don't give hand outs or treat the children on the beach the same as the previous directors did. I don't have enough Kreyol to better explain the motivations, which in the course of the conversation I realized was probably OK because I'm not sure the reasons would actually help the situation. The children miss Kathy and Rick, which is only natural. They want life to be different, which is only natural. Trying to explain different philosophies on missions and helping people doesn't always make sense to adults, much less to teenagers and children. Add the cultural differences to the mix and I'm convinced time is practically the only way to properly communicate these thoughts (through developed, ongoing relationships).
Questions about life in general are constantly crossing my mind. On Friday afternoon while we drove to visit friends of the Carlins, I got the chance to talk about life as I've seen in the states with Guito as he discussed life here in Haiti as he has known it. Guito works on the compound. He's in his mid- to late-twenties, 27 if I remember correctly. He has chosen to remain single so far and shared some of his reasons, such as recognizing the need for money before becoming responsible to feed a family. He talked about how many people don't have a job or home beforehand and aren't prepared as he would like to be. For certain populations in the states, that reality is also true.
What was also interesting in this conversation (which was come forth in similar ones) is that when I say I don't want a husband or children, I am often corrected to saying I don't YET want those things in my life. I think most Americans would understand that my not wanting indicates now with a question mark on when, but doesn't seem to translate here. I don't know if "po ko" means I don't want it now but want it for my future, or if it just assumes that everyone will one day want a family of their own because God says it is good (which is another response I often receive). Maybe saying "po ko" just leaves the decision in God's hands and recognizes that I haven't reached that point in life yet. I don't know. Po ko.
spotlight
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
At 3am I awoke disoriented. There was an incredibly bright light shining through a window directly into my eyes. At first my brain began convincing me that it must be a light from the new neighbors, but that idea didn't settle well based on the angle in which it was entering my room. Then I thought that maybe someone had a light at the top of the newly replaced compound wall, but that didn't make sense either. I wasn't concerned about the light, especially since I figured the staff who sleep at the compound would have been fully aware of this disturbance. Yet as I continued to lie there, the light began to slowly shift and not disappear.
Eventually I decided to pull myself out of my comfortable bed to investigate the matter. I did not want to disrupt the staff or draw any attention to myself so I attempted to open my door as quietly as I possibly could to step outside and look. Now my door swings toward the direction from which the light was originating. I was forced to step fully out of my room and onto the gravel in the courtyard to actually determine the source of this massive illuminator. Lo and behold, it was the moon. The largest, probably fullest, moon I have ever seen in my life was quite literally blanketing our world like a gigantic spotlight. Not even the headlights of passing cars regiestered as they passed because the moon was so bright. I even thought about using my sunglasses as I gazed at it. I stood outside roughly 15 minutes talking with God as I appreciated His marvelous creation. In no other place have I been treated to such a wonder as that.
At 3am I awoke disoriented. There was an incredibly bright light shining through a window directly into my eyes. At first my brain began convincing me that it must be a light from the new neighbors, but that idea didn't settle well based on the angle in which it was entering my room. Then I thought that maybe someone had a light at the top of the newly replaced compound wall, but that didn't make sense either. I wasn't concerned about the light, especially since I figured the staff who sleep at the compound would have been fully aware of this disturbance. Yet as I continued to lie there, the light began to slowly shift and not disappear.
Eventually I decided to pull myself out of my comfortable bed to investigate the matter. I did not want to disrupt the staff or draw any attention to myself so I attempted to open my door as quietly as I possibly could to step outside and look. Now my door swings toward the direction from which the light was originating. I was forced to step fully out of my room and onto the gravel in the courtyard to actually determine the source of this massive illuminator. Lo and behold, it was the moon. The largest, probably fullest, moon I have ever seen in my life was quite literally blanketing our world like a gigantic spotlight. Not even the headlights of passing cars regiestered as they passed because the moon was so bright. I even thought about using my sunglasses as I gazed at it. I stood outside roughly 15 minutes talking with God as I appreciated His marvelous creation. In no other place have I been treated to such a wonder as that.
Friday, May 14, 2010
friends and sunsets
Saturday-Monday, April 24-26, 2010
The teams left Saturday morning. Mike rode into Port-au-Prince with them and then met Nicole at the airport as she arrived back in country. The children and I prepared for her return by cleaning up, making welcome home gifts, and making cookies. Having her back and with the good news of her health was encouraging. We all enjoyed one another's company. We made pizza for dinner (thank you team for bringing pepperoni and cheese). I took a walk before dinner but were not able to see the new neighbors who I had met the previous afternoon. There are 3 men and 1 woman representing an organization called SASH now renting the land and house on the other side of the swamp land lining our fence. One of them is an American, and the other 3 are English. The children on the beach informed me they had gone into Leogane and wouldn't be back until 6pm. I walked and talked with the youth instead. I am finding my ability to engage in conversation and to express ideas increasing. It's encouraging, especially when I am talking with a new person and still able to comprehend. Those I speak with regularly are easier to understand because they are able to change sentences to include words I know if they find I am confused. And yet I am being to understand more and more.
Sunday I did manage to speak with the neighbors for some time, although not intentionally. I went for a walk as usual and saw some of the teen girls with whom I have been regularly speaking. After talking for some time, they decided to walk back to the compound with me. As we neared the neighbor's property, the girls began to share about an accident there earlier in the day. The neighbors had run razorwire along the edge of their fence for an added level of security. When I passed it initially, I was laughing to myself because it is not high and probably isn't much of a deterrent. Apparently my thought wasn't too far off base. A Haitian had thought the same thing and yet in proving his point by jumping over the fence he managed he catch his foot on the wire and sliced it open. As the girls finished telling me about all the blood, we watched some of the younger children proceed to jump over the fence and join in a soccer game.
Melanie, the woman, saw me and approached me to invite us in through the gate. I explained that I had just wanted to say hi and then translated the invitation for the girls with me. They would not enter without me. So the next thing I knew, I was walking and talking with Melanie. It was nice to have a conversation in English and share some of observations about the community and universal truths about children. Melanie provided more details about the man with the cut foot. He was ok, but he needed over 30 stitches at the local hospital. I guess the children had not been exaggerating when they said there had been anpil, anpil blood (a lot, a lot).
Although many children I knew would say hi and briefly wanted to interact with me, there seems to be a cultural piece at play that they are not to interrupt two blans in conversation. I have noticed that even if I am in conversation with them, if a blan approaches they will stand quietly and wait until the blan is finished addressing me AND I re-engage with them. This time when a couple of the children approached too frequently, some of the older children began yelling at them and telling them to stop bothering me. I do not understand these interactions fully, but they stick out in my mind.
As I walked home, I was treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Monday night during my conversation on the beach with Haitians, I finally learned the Kreyol phrase for sunset, soley kouche which literally translates as sun lies down. The colors were spectacular: oranges, pinks, purples, teals, greens, and blues of the most vivid shades I could begin to imagine. I did not have my camera either evening, but the sky can change so much so quickly that I decided to enjoy the show for what it was. I have the mental images only, but they are so special.
The teams left Saturday morning. Mike rode into Port-au-Prince with them and then met Nicole at the airport as she arrived back in country. The children and I prepared for her return by cleaning up, making welcome home gifts, and making cookies. Having her back and with the good news of her health was encouraging. We all enjoyed one another's company. We made pizza for dinner (thank you team for bringing pepperoni and cheese). I took a walk before dinner but were not able to see the new neighbors who I had met the previous afternoon. There are 3 men and 1 woman representing an organization called SASH now renting the land and house on the other side of the swamp land lining our fence. One of them is an American, and the other 3 are English. The children on the beach informed me they had gone into Leogane and wouldn't be back until 6pm. I walked and talked with the youth instead. I am finding my ability to engage in conversation and to express ideas increasing. It's encouraging, especially when I am talking with a new person and still able to comprehend. Those I speak with regularly are easier to understand because they are able to change sentences to include words I know if they find I am confused. And yet I am being to understand more and more.
Sunday I did manage to speak with the neighbors for some time, although not intentionally. I went for a walk as usual and saw some of the teen girls with whom I have been regularly speaking. After talking for some time, they decided to walk back to the compound with me. As we neared the neighbor's property, the girls began to share about an accident there earlier in the day. The neighbors had run razorwire along the edge of their fence for an added level of security. When I passed it initially, I was laughing to myself because it is not high and probably isn't much of a deterrent. Apparently my thought wasn't too far off base. A Haitian had thought the same thing and yet in proving his point by jumping over the fence he managed he catch his foot on the wire and sliced it open. As the girls finished telling me about all the blood, we watched some of the younger children proceed to jump over the fence and join in a soccer game.
Melanie, the woman, saw me and approached me to invite us in through the gate. I explained that I had just wanted to say hi and then translated the invitation for the girls with me. They would not enter without me. So the next thing I knew, I was walking and talking with Melanie. It was nice to have a conversation in English and share some of observations about the community and universal truths about children. Melanie provided more details about the man with the cut foot. He was ok, but he needed over 30 stitches at the local hospital. I guess the children had not been exaggerating when they said there had been anpil, anpil blood (a lot, a lot).
Although many children I knew would say hi and briefly wanted to interact with me, there seems to be a cultural piece at play that they are not to interrupt two blans in conversation. I have noticed that even if I am in conversation with them, if a blan approaches they will stand quietly and wait until the blan is finished addressing me AND I re-engage with them. This time when a couple of the children approached too frequently, some of the older children began yelling at them and telling them to stop bothering me. I do not understand these interactions fully, but they stick out in my mind.
As I walked home, I was treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Monday night during my conversation on the beach with Haitians, I finally learned the Kreyol phrase for sunset, soley kouche which literally translates as sun lies down. The colors were spectacular: oranges, pinks, purples, teals, greens, and blues of the most vivid shades I could begin to imagine. I did not have my camera either evening, but the sky can change so much so quickly that I decided to enjoy the show for what it was. I have the mental images only, but they are so special.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
bon dlo (good water)
Friday, April 23, 2010
This morning started with a water filter distribution with the congregation at Ephiphanie. Guito had traveled up the mountain with the team and therefore wasn't available for the education portion of the distribution. Mike explained how to construct the filter, how to maintain it, how it worked, and how to clean it. He stressed the importance of clean water and not contaminating the filtered water (even by just reusing the bucket which they collected the water to hold the filtered water without washing it). He also provided information phamplets about how one can put clear water inside a clear plastic bottle such as an empty Coca-Cola 20 oz and then place the bottle in the sun for 6 hours for the water to be treated for microbes. Pastor Gabriel clarified, re-explained, and emphasized details as Mike and he deemed appropriate to help ensure that everyone understood what was being said. People asked questions and interacted in the discussion.
The group was smaller than on the day of the seed distribution. I was surprised by who did not attend. I expected to see a couple of the matriachs of the church, but they were not present. Only about 12-15 people, all adults, attended the information session. Of that group only 7 people had 5-gallon buckets in which to insert the filter. Pastor Gabriel led the distribution and recorded who received the filters. Mike and I assisted each person who did have a bucket in drilling a hole and then fitting the pieces of the filter together. We had the owner of the filter actually attach the piece with the filter since they would need to remove it occasionally to clean it and then re-attach that piece.
Although we had desired a larger turn-out, we recognized that not everyone had or could spare a 5-gallon bucket in which to place the filter. One woman who came had borrowed a bucket from a neighbor and couldn't receive her filter that day because she would have to return the bucket to her neighbor. She still wouldn't have the water filter even if we had used that bucket. We had hoped to be able to distribute buckets alongside of the filters to supplement this anticipated need. Despite Mike and our staff's efforts to locate the needed buckets, none had been found. During the information presentation, Mike realized each person receiving a filter should actually have three 5-gallon buckets. One bucket would be for the filter, one for retrieving questionable water from a local stream, and one for holding the good drinkable water once it had been filtered. We would not have had enough buckets for everyone even if we had been able to find them before this distribution day. Now we know how many we will need to purchase, and we will have another information session and distribution once buckets are purchased so that the rest of the congregation has water filters and consequently potable water.
This morning started with a water filter distribution with the congregation at Ephiphanie. Guito had traveled up the mountain with the team and therefore wasn't available for the education portion of the distribution. Mike explained how to construct the filter, how to maintain it, how it worked, and how to clean it. He stressed the importance of clean water and not contaminating the filtered water (even by just reusing the bucket which they collected the water to hold the filtered water without washing it). He also provided information phamplets about how one can put clear water inside a clear plastic bottle such as an empty Coca-Cola 20 oz and then place the bottle in the sun for 6 hours for the water to be treated for microbes. Pastor Gabriel clarified, re-explained, and emphasized details as Mike and he deemed appropriate to help ensure that everyone understood what was being said. People asked questions and interacted in the discussion.
The group was smaller than on the day of the seed distribution. I was surprised by who did not attend. I expected to see a couple of the matriachs of the church, but they were not present. Only about 12-15 people, all adults, attended the information session. Of that group only 7 people had 5-gallon buckets in which to insert the filter. Pastor Gabriel led the distribution and recorded who received the filters. Mike and I assisted each person who did have a bucket in drilling a hole and then fitting the pieces of the filter together. We had the owner of the filter actually attach the piece with the filter since they would need to remove it occasionally to clean it and then re-attach that piece.
Although we had desired a larger turn-out, we recognized that not everyone had or could spare a 5-gallon bucket in which to place the filter. One woman who came had borrowed a bucket from a neighbor and couldn't receive her filter that day because she would have to return the bucket to her neighbor. She still wouldn't have the water filter even if we had used that bucket. We had hoped to be able to distribute buckets alongside of the filters to supplement this anticipated need. Despite Mike and our staff's efforts to locate the needed buckets, none had been found. During the information presentation, Mike realized each person receiving a filter should actually have three 5-gallon buckets. One bucket would be for the filter, one for retrieving questionable water from a local stream, and one for holding the good drinkable water once it had been filtered. We would not have had enough buckets for everyone even if we had been able to find them before this distribution day. Now we know how many we will need to purchase, and we will have another information session and distribution once buckets are purchased so that the rest of the congregation has water filters and consequently potable water.
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