KATIMAVIK!!!!!

The most bestest thing I ever did is in jeopardy!

Please follow the link to petition the canadian government to not cut Katimavik financing. http://www.etatdufinancement.katimavik.org/support/index/

Or, you can post a paper letter to your mp and the Minister of Canadian Heritage and Status of Women free.

this beta thing

My blog has a new look, I'm sorry. I tried to make it be wider and don't know how well I succeeded. Hopefully the colours aren't distracting or difficult to read, please let me know and I'll try to work on it more. I've spent two hours now, reading through old posts and such, when I should be reading through job postings. It was a nice trip to the past- I have been back from Haiti a while now, i guess. Also I read my mom's blog from her trip last christmas, and noticed how similar we are, and also how different. It made me realize how much I love her, which seems to be a theme this week. I love you mom! (tell Wm I love him too)

(Sidenote: Ottawa is SO the place I've lived in Canada where I do the most exciting things. Tuesday I went to a play at the National Arts Centre. There was much jumping up and down when i realized I had been to the theatre and was now looking up at my nation's parliament buildings)

Anyway, back to work, ugh.

Yesterday and even farther ago

I went to church, and the text was "Love the Lord your God with all your heart..."

I know how to love God with my mind, but I forget for the moment how to love with my strength. That seems like an odd thing to say. I suppose I could use my strength for the thing that I love, but I don't know how to use it for God. He doesn't actually need me to physically climb mountains does he?

Well, come to think of it, in Haiti I climbed a lot of mountains, and thought it was necessary for my job, and thought that was serving God. Hmmm...

Monday Motday

Of late, I have been doing much reading and encountering words I don't know, or at least, of which I don't know the specific definition. In order to not simply look up definitions and then forget, I have decided to start Monday Motday- a day for words to be practiced. Since I'm not in grade school anymore, all the words will have to be used in one sentence. Not because I want to learn to use them in that way, but because effusive eruditism is much more ostentatious. (and as such, competitive and fun!) (Yes, I think word competitions are fun. Even against myself- but if you wanna experience the fun for yourself, the comments section is open)

antebellum: adj.
before or existing before the war, esp. Amer. Civil War
concomitant: adj.
existing or occurring with something else, often in a lesser way;
accompanying; concurrent: an event and its concomitant circumstances.
propensity: noun
1. a natural inclination or tendency: a propensity to drink too much.
2. Obsolete. favorable disposition or partiality.
anacoluthia: noun
lack of grammatical sequence or coherence, esp. in a sentence.

As in:
A propensity for anacoluthia to be concomitant with propaganda can be noted in the articles of antebellum journals.

Toast with your tea

www.myspace.com/toastlikestojam

Everybody go there, and then watch their video. It is like the second time that i can think of where I've been connected to a band personally, so I like their music, but everyone will like their video. (It is in Tripplettes of Belleville style.) GO NOW!

eh?

So, I'm looking for jobs, I started yesterday. Everyone whose been hassling me to do so may now relax. Those of you hassling me to go back to school, attend a different school or pay my taxes, you will be pleased to note that the looking for job option is ...I don't want to say unpleasant, but certainly ... well, here's the last post I read:

Years of experience related to the job offer : none
Description of qualifications : Be an incumbent(holder) of an equivalent secondary school diploma in the 11th year or in a 5th year of the secondary or the certificate the equivalence of which is recognized by the proper authorities; or belong to a class of jobs of the public service the conditions of membership of which as for the schooling are comparable; the person who is also admitted(supposed) has a lower number of years of schooling, on condition that it compensates for every year of missing schooling by two years of work experience; we hear(understand) by work experience, such as, the dependent or the time dedicated to the care and to the education of a child or the other persons with load(responsibility). The knowledge of the English language is essential in the exercise of the job and will be the object of an evaluation which will be eliminating heat. This competition addresses only the persons whose main home located in the RCM of Pontiac, administrative region of Outaouais. However, this condition does not apply to the members of cultural communities and to the persons with a disability. You also have to have the status of Canadian citizen or that of the permanent resident. Furthermore, to occupy a job in the Quebecois public service, you have to have a knowledge of French suited to the duties(functions). SALARY: the annual salary, calculated on a base of 35 hours per week, is 26 591 $ (14,56 $ the hour) in the start and of 32 581 $ (17,84 $ the hour) at most of the scale(ladder) *

Surely the coolest thing since that van commercial!

A movie of dominoes and billiards. You'll like it, really! (And plus, hey look at me being interested in something relaxing!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=niSw5DWomIA

TEMPERATURE EFFECTS ON COMFORT AND HEALTH

24C - top range of comfort

21C - recommended living room temperature

Less than 20C - death risk begins

18C - recommended bedroom temperature

16C - resistance to respiratory diseases weakened

12C - more than two hours at this temperature raises blood pressure and increases heart attack and stroke risk

5C - Significant risk of hypothermia

Source: West Midlands Public Health Observatory

Found this while looking up info for post about Marshall Islands. Interesting stuff the BBC has.

Thing I'm distracted from

Reading the news today, I got angry and defensive when Haiti was referred to as the poorest country in the americas. Then I looked it up, and sometime in the last year Haiti has indeed been reclassed in the human development index lower than any other american country.

But, underneath the status of "low development", there are a whole bunch of "unclassed" countries, which I imagined would be places like Vatican City and San Marino. They're there, but so are Afghanistan, Somalia and Serbia, and some others.

One of the others is the Marshall Islands, who I couldn't even generally point to on the globe. (North Pacific)

They are classed 195th in GDP per capita. (Haiti is 149, and Burkina Faso is 164th) I can't tell you who 195 is near because it doesn't even show up on the Wikipedia list, which stops at 181. To give you an idea of what those countries are doing, here are the ten preceding the cut:

171	Madagascar	908
172	Sierra Leone	903
173	Niger	872
174	Eritrea	858
175	Ethiopia	823
176	Democratic Republic of the Congo	774
177	Yemen	751
178	Burundi	739
179	Guinea-Bissau	736
180	Tanzania	723
181	Malawi	596

I also learned that:

Not being among the 179 member countries of the International Labour Organisation, Marshall Islands is among the handful of countries not obliged to abide by the core labour standards (elimination of forced labour, child labour and discrimination, and respect for freedom of association and right to collective bargaining) as required of ILO members.

The Marshall Islands also host an american testing ground for missiles, and its government is suing the US for increased compensation for its radiation-poisoning victims, according to the BBC Country Profile

Haiti defeats Bermuda in under 20 soccer!

http://www.theroyalgazette.com/apps/pbcs.dll/
article?AID=/20061025/SPORT/110250178

That is a link to the Bermuda news article regarding their defeat 11-1 by Haiti's under 20 soccer team.

11 to 1 !!!

Haiti did surprisingly well in Carribean Women's Volleyball tournament this summer too, why do we never hear about this in the mainstream news?

I am indeed, starting to feel like we are being distracted from other things by despair about Haiti.

Haiti is poor, don't get me wrong, but there are moments of hope, things to rejoice.

Ordinarily I would say that sports don't do much for the masses, and am annoyed at how much my govt is spending on the 2010 Olympics. HOWEVER, Haiti really does care about football. When there is a game on, even a small game, it is as big a deal as the Stanley Cup playoffs in Edmonton. I can't imagine what it would have been like during the world cup games this summer.

Donc, If arguments are made about sports bringing pride, and that being good for the solidarity of a nation, if it were going to be true anywhere, it would be true in Haiti, where the people really do need a current reason to be proud of being Haitian.

And so, an eleven to one victory against Bermuda, a country of much wealth, seems to me to be worth rejoicing. Although, I admit that there is much dodginess in how it was achieved, and would rather have had a smaller victory more obviously fairly.

(The match was moved from Port au Prince to St Marc, and earlier in the day, instead of in the evening, the day before it was played. I wonder if this was actually an attempt to put the other team of balance, or if the Port stadium was having troubles and St Marc was closest. The noon start time really does seem dodgy though- Unless it was because, given that they had to get from St Marc back to their hotel, the game needed to finish earlier. I wouldn't want to be a rich foreign team travelling at night and have the whole country know it! )

the US political scene: Red, White and Green?

http://www.grist.org/news/maindish/2006
/10/05/gate/index.html?source=weekly

That is a link to articles about evangelical environmentalists.

Not, mind you, environmentalists who are christians, (there are many of those, it isn't news) but christians who are coming to be environmentalists.

I will try not to let my pride get to big about being on the right side of right:)

Besides, given my history, if too many people start to agree with this global warming thing, I might join Dr Dobson and call it hooey.

The most wonderful picture of the day

This picture is curtesy of livejournal Haitian community (featured in links to right).

You will notice there are also quite a lot of other Haitian links, and not much else.

I am not unignorant of Haitian affairs, but I certainly am more ignorant of everything else, and I am concerned about this.

1-Am I distracted from more urgent problems, such as Darfur, Burma, even Afghanistan?
2-Am I actually in love with Haiti, or simply an addict?
3-Can I do anything to make it better there, or am I so ignorant & prideful that the first rule, the "Do No Harm" rule, would be better translated as "VT GO HOME"?

All of this is, I am sure, a part of reverse-culture shock, but I feel like I need more knowledge of that too. Shouldn't I be getting better yet? I have been back as long as I was away.

My roommate, who went through all of this already, gets frustrated with me often, because I hold my ideas too closely, they are the only babies I have here to hold, and so I am angered when she tries to take them and hold them to the light of reason. I try to tell her to give me time to be angry, that I am also listening and will tomorrow agree with her, but this doesn't make it any easier to deal with me when I'm bichy NOW, I'm sure.

Especially when sometimes, eg literacy and what language it should be in, I don't come round to her way of seeing things the next day. I am not ready to condemn Creole to an oral language only. I should do research and see that her opinion is the wise one, but I don't. I don't know why not, although partly I don't really know where to start, and I am tired and distracted by all the other things I feel I should know.

So instead I sleep, and Wormwood's successor drinks happily.

Do those of you in education, or wherever, have suggestions on what I should study to better understand education and literacy?

This is my God-son-of-my-heart. He goes to school and he can talk on phones and he likes the same picture books I did. (Although no mention of munsch, I may have to send him some)

Certainly, I will send him and his mom both letters. Just as soon as I write my grandpa and aunties and mentors and children in Haiti. I think I will need to start drinking more coffee!

It snowed today

And I talked to my best friends and my Dad, and had tea with a friend, and listened to Stuart McLean. I am very rich* and life is good.

Tomorrow, I may even buy a pillow and some shoes. Definitely a teapot. Not that I am an adult and ready to be responsible for my own teapot, but my roommate/friend can be.

*edit: I reread that and feel like maybe it comes across as ostentatious. To be clear, I meant rich in the sense of having friends and family, not two mercedes and a spa membership. I am also material-ly wealthy, in the sense that I HAVE A MATTRESS AGAIN, NO MORE COUCHES FOR AT LEAST THREE MONTHS, WOOHOO!

However, I'd like to think that I'm not the sort of person who would derive self-worth from wealth. Although I will admit to being much happier sleeping on a bed than in the dirt, that is backpain and chills, not self worth talking.

Forgiveness

I was talking yesterday and realized that I forgive my mom not giving me the contact numbers, not because she was trying to do what was best (though I'm sure she was) but because if I'd been able to deal with my friend, if I hadn't myself been messed up and terrified of phones, that "fiddlehead" wouldn't have had to phone mom with a new number, she would have had mine.

This is important, because I KNOW I'm supposed to forgive. But a week ago, I really didn't want to, and now I have, and that is good.

That's the end of today's learning, please rise for the doxology. (which actually, my mom doesn't like, but hopefully she'll forgive me this once.)

BE IT NOTED

That I love Mom even when I am angry at her, and I love Dad when I am angry at him, and that they have done a wonderful job of convincing me that I am loved by them too. I have never feared that they don't love me, only that they might not like me particularly much. Which they can't be blamed for, as I have done some remarkably unlikeable things, and I don't even always like myself.

But I do like cheese.

My best friend's back

My other Best Friend. I have three friends from highschool who were officially my best friends, and two of them I miss all the time. Not often enough that I can be proud of, but often enough that I know I haven't forgotten them, that our lives would be better were we in contact.

The other one, I live with. I'm driving her crazy, actually, and I would worry that we might not stay best friends long. Except that she is the most fantastic person in the world, and when she is sick of me, she says "I'm sick of you" and I go outside and take a walk until she misses me. (OR, that's the plan anyway. Sometimes I'm too engrossed in my book to go outside, so I'd better learn to put my book down, which is something a grown-up should know how to do anyway)

I haven't always lived with her, in fact, it's been less than three weeks. There was a short time after highschool when I didn't talk to her very much, but somehow we got over that and have been getting to know each other again ever since.

The other two, I also stopped talking to during that time, but instead of getting over that, there contacts info changed and I wasn't au courant so I just lost them, and I have never gotten over it.

A Chief Anger I hold against my mother is that she didn't give me one friend's number three years ago. It may have been longer. If you are reading this, my fiddling friend, I miss you, I want you back, and it's not my fault I didn't call. I think about you every time I go to Nanaimo, every time I see a show where boys go into a closet with girls, and sometimes when I rake a lawn. And those are obscure things we only did once, but they are things I only did with you. (Except go to Nanaimo, you did that alone, and therein is the problem)

My third friend, my trucking friend, called me tonight. She has been missing me too, and I am thrilled. Because with her, it is my fault that we lost touch. In college, I had her number, and called her once, but never called her back. It was too hard, the conversation didn't flow. The past three weeks I've been thinking about her more than usual, and yesterday I wrote an email and made a call to destinations I knew were disconnected, praying that they weren't, praying I could get in contact with her again. And tonight, completely independently, she called me, or rather my Dad. He called me and I screamed so loud it made my roommate-best friend crazier. But it was worth it. I called my trucker and she has a beautiful voice, even more Canadian than I remember it being, and we talked for 45 minutes and her son- my god-son in my head even if he doesn't know it-is five and started school and it is good.

I worry that maybe I'm putting too much pressure on this, that she will read this and be totally freaked out, or that we will lose contact again and I will be devestated, and that I should try to keep my cool. But I've no interest in that, at all. This is an answer to prayer, and even if I do lose contact again, at least I will have found out a little about what she is up to, and how to think of her.

Now all I need is to find that third friend.

Oh, and to decide how to deal with a God who answers prayers like "I miss my friend" but not "Protect the people in Darfur from slaughter".

Who is Wendell Berry?

The person who said:

"Rats and roaches live by competition under the law of supply and demand; it is the privlege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy."

But besides that, has anyone any idea about this person, Wendell Berry?

Wyclef konn jouwe!

I got hooked on Wyclef Jean when I was in Haiti, although mostly on his creole stuff, I'm still not big on English rap. (My friend Eric has a quote, "Bad rap gives good rap a bad rap" that is about as much as I normally think on the subject) I have seen his charity "Yele Haiti" around Port-au-Prince, as well as his face on posters for a terrible soda pop, but still don't know much.

An interesting interview with him: http://www.sunnewsonline.com/webpages/features
/showtime/2006/aug/25/showtime-25-08-2006-001.htm

but note what the Haiti anti american newsnet has to say about his Uncle:
http://www.haitiaction.net/News/Storm/ERNESTO/8_25_6.html

Mud Pies

I was on another page and read about mud pies. i wanted to talk about it here, but the picture function isn't working. I'll try again tonight.

excerpts from a letter

I'm fine I guess, I'm always struggling with what to do, with trying
to understand how God fits into my life and how my life fits into his
plan. I read a lot, a book right now about immigrants from the
Carribean to Canada in the 70s.It is by Austin Clarke, a
Barbados-born Canadian. It is very interesting, but very disturbing, to see how he portrays black immigrant's ideas about white
immigrants and other canadians.

Today I went to a very interesting church, we had sandwhiches as part
of the service, to get a chance to meet the other people, to try and
develop more of a sense of community. I really enjoyed that. It is a
church that tries to serve poor people so there were lots of hungry
people there, the woman I sat with had come in to escape the rain. I
wondered about some of the conversations I heard, sitting beside this
woman who'd spent the day in the rain and the night huddled in a
doorway, i could hear people talking about gardens and birthday gifts
and the tour de france. I felt like all that stuff excluded her from
the conversation, but on the other hand, if the other people weren't
free to talk about what was on their minds, then they would never be
open, would never be a real part of the community either. So I don't
know. What should you talk about when trying to be friends with
someone who hasn't had the same circumstances as you? And isn't it
prejudiced of me to think that just because she is going through hard
times she has no interest in those things? (It is true that she
didn't join any of those conversations, but she didn't really join in
any others unless she was asked a direct question)

I think this was a problem for me in Haiti too. Certainly I could ask questions about their
lives and about Haiti, but there were few people with whom I could
relax and feel like I had common ground.

I really enjoyed my host mom for that, actually. Even though there was a big
language barrier, when we actually sat and talked I felt like we had
really good talks, about men and politics and religion and psychology
and stuff. Sometimes I felt like we weren't talking about the same
things, or that maybe she was just letting me rant and didn't really
care, but I felt like I could talk to her. And one other girl too, but
that was less surprising because her family is more familiar with whites and North Americans, and we could speak french which was easier.

you don't have to go home...

but you can't stay here.

And neither can I. My roomies found a place closer to school, a place they can afford just the two of them, which puts the other two of us also looking for a new place. Which is fine, We both were kindof looking anyway. I like the people I'm living with, but even for my no cooking, the kitchen here is too small.

Also, my job ends either at the end of July or August (my choice) or it might continue til november. I took it believing it would end in July and that I would then visit mom and dad and maybe some friends, and then go on to the next boring adventure, but I'm finding it very hard to let go of the guaranteed hours and good wages.

Really, i've been in stasis. i got home and turned on the tv, so managed to stay hypnotized and avoid thinking about all the things that matter in this world, like love and family and helicopters (which are analagous in this sentence to both war and buzzards circling a starving child)

Now my contract with Clean water for Haiti has ended, what am I going to do? The question of the muddled person who wrote the biography attached to this blog (see the green box to the right) has apparently been ignored long enough.

If ever was a time to throw in your two cents worth- what a good thing for me to do next would be, information or suggestions regarding housing and employment in Ottawa, Victoria, Haiti, New Zealand, Parts Unmentions, now is that time. Comments please!

Speaking of hypnotized, I watched Sex in the City tonight and the lead character has some line that goes along the lines of "Narcissus drowned in his own image; didn't he have any friends to mirror back at him? So COMMENTS please! Really, I'm watching Sex in the City by myself on a sunshiney day? This is not good people!

Anyway, here's a picture of the hallway of my last house: (And Jean Franz doing the dishes)

the actions of a slightly drunk lover

(in the christian sense of the word.)

Went out with a coworker after work and shared a few beers and a bottle of wine. (it took us six hours) Got on the bus home and sat next to this punk with a shiner and fresh stitches. Thanks to the confidence of alcohol, struck up a conversation with him and we talked about criminal earnings vs having firetrucks, what counted as "sober" for joining the military, and how important it is to respect one's grandmother. He was headed to the mac's and short one dollar for a sandwhich, so going to buy candy bars instead. Told him I'd spot him the sandwhich, but told him off when he tried to shove another under his shirt. Warned the clerk to watch him and left the payed sandwich and my new friend in the store.

Oh, the important part:
1- I knwo I'm a sap and this kid would've been fine without the sandwhich. But, I gotta treat my neighbour like my brother, and I'm always happy when someone does something for me. Maybe one day he'll pass on the love. Or maybe he'll wonder why someone did somthing, and look into

What's love got to do with it?

Or maybe I'll feel better knowing I did the best i could today.

this week in val...

I read my friend who's in Africa's blog, and am jealous of her prodigious writing and also of her being in Africa, most of what she writes makes me homesick for Haiti. This is a trouble as I'm really not convinced I should, or could, live in Haiti, and certainly haven't yet figured out a way to return. So for now, I live vicariously through her. As can you, the link to the right "Ouagadoogooner" will get you to her blog. Beware there is much "biology" talk. (and not the boys & girl's kind)

Another day,
I was at the Street Performer's festival again, and saw this awesome act which made me feel I was a Japanese royal child three hundred years ago. This man made neat sculptures that looked like blown glass, out of sugar paste or something. He folded paper frogs and cranes and pirate hats, and made a top spin on the tip of a sword. It was magical, like being three years old.


Another day,
I was on the bus next to a man in pleather pants, cowboy boots and a suit jacket, with a keyboard sticking out the top of his backpack. The busdriver thought he smelled like poo and made all the passengers show our shoes to prove it wasn't us.

Another day,
I was on the bus, and heard a little girl talking with her brother :
"That's the Hotel Mcdonald. If the Queen came here, that's where she'd stay. And if Nickelback came here, that's where they'd stay!"

so endeth the spree

d'oh! last night I did not write because i was too busy flaking out of making a friend by falling asleep. Today I missed dinner with different friends because I worked 13 hours by accident. But I did meet up with them after and had lovely tea and cake, so that was ok I guess, but it would have been nice to enjoy the whole evening. Mostly i'm just glad cuz Lisa told me she doesn't mind if I talk all the time about Haiti. and now I'm glad to be going to bed.

Anyone else ever Galumph with Jablkon?

At work today my boss thinks I screwed up, and I think she screwed up. I mention this because authority type /parental figures have been concerned that I have self confidence problems, and I don't think that can be the case if I'm so arrogant as to think I'm right even when I've been told otherwise.

I was in a bad mood until, on my way home, the Street Performer's festival started and I watched this crazy dance group, galumpha. They were really neat and I stood in the sun for a long time watching them, even though my feet were killing me after work. I was also really impressed with some of the music they used, by this Czech group Jablkon, which from the looks of their website I'm not the first fan of, but which I have discovered by myself, without liking it because I've heard it five hundred times. I wish there were more money in my pocket so that I could be a true fan and purchase a cd, instead of just having to argue with myself about whether I can steal it from whatever the most current version of napster is. But in my ear there's an uppity voice who keeps reminding me of what else "extra" money could go to. Not that most of it will actually get there. The more I stay in Canada, the more i waste money on eating out and clothes and crap. Not that I don't feel guilty while doing those things, but I'm mostly too tired not to, or something. But, I did make back the 200$ i owed my friend, so I'll give that to Yaya hopefully, to help build a new shack. (She got evicted from her old place, probably for family of the landlord.) If she can find enough money, maybe she can even get cement floors one day. I think she's goign to start with a roof that doesn't leak, and then some walls not made of rocks with cement thrown at them. Plastering over sticks is an ingenious system, but it doesn't seem to last in the rain. (Here is a picture of both her and the walls. And other people, whose stories you only get when you look at my whole album)

Right now I'm reading this book, Yada Yada, and it is about how we're people and we fuck up and that's ok if we don't give up but instead rely on God to get through it, and try to make it better. At least, I think that's what it's about. Someone just got hit by a truck, so right now it's about lawyers and police investigations. Anyway, it would be wild if it were relevant, so I'm going to get back to reading that.

growing up...

I went shopping without anyone to help me today and bought shirts and shoes without getting stressed out. I am trying to remember when the last time I did that was.

I'm more sore from orienteering today than yesterday so I am ready for bed- I've been busy this week but it has probably been worth it. Am looking forward to my day off tuesday:)

I realized today that I idealize spending like an hour and a half four days a week on exercise, and that anyone who spends that much time doing anything else is a freak or hard core. Interesting how values and priorities don't always line up.

Now, my priority is bed, and it's a straight line of two steps from here to there, so that's it.

Orienteering

with my friend was great fun. Really, I went for a walk in the woods and looked for random landmarks so she could Orientate. It made me happy though, to be out of the city, and there was even some change in elevation as we walked. (Although even the organizer admitted the "hill" was more of a bump.)

Regret

When a Canadian sincerely apologizes, they will often say:

"That was my fault, I'm so sorry."



However, when a Haitian sincerely apologizes, they will say:

"Mwen regrèt, Pa fot mwen"
Literally, this translates to:

"I'm sorry, but it's not my fault."
But it actually seems to mean:

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to turn out this way/ I didn't do it on purpose"

I wonder if my friends think I'm always saying,
"I'm sorry you don't like it, but tough luck, that's what I did"

?

.....................................................................................................

I posted that picture here because I'm truly sorry for what I see in it. I'm the only girl. When I went to Haiti it was with the intention of empowering women. Whether you call yourself a feminist or think that women now have unfair advantages compared to men in Canada, few would argue that women in Haiti are treated fairly. (So few, that I'm not even going to bother backing up that statement with examples. Contact me if you want some) I wanted to help change that by giving at least a few women technical positions, (and sometimes, moolah!) but I got distracted and tired and didn't follow through. And so you see this picture here, which is still really awesome in that all those men came for two days of training in health, sanitation and filter use. It’s awesome that when I followed up with them most were still really excited about being Community Stewards and had convinced neighbours to buy filters and checked to see how they were being used. It’s awesome because I'm wearing my pretty sunflower teaching clothes from Kelly and Rose. AND it’s awesome because Jean-Renaud (in red) is teaching and very patiently answering questions.

But, no women.

My fault/Pa fot mwen.

haha! back for round two

or actually three, cuz I had written the day before I decided I would write everyday. Anyway, today was a lovely day.

There is an art-works festival happening downtown, with craft shops and food-huts and the things you see at all festivals. I work a block from the square where such events happen.
So, I went for lunch- curry yum yum! with a staff member from a different unit of my department, and then she took me for super delicious ice cream. Well, gelatto (panna cotta) it got cloying by halfway, so I put it in the freezer for tomorrow but that was great too because I got to use the word cloying.

After work, I went to the gym (a thing to be proud of if not particularly enjoyable) and then my friends came and met me at the square. We ate more indian food while listening to spanish music, and felt that it was good to live in a Canadian city.

After dinner I went to the library and got waylaid by music coming from the corner. What I thought must be a busker turned out to be an open night mike at Second cup, so i had a cup of tea and listened to wonderful dulcet and humourous tunes.

I felt very much like I was an urbanite then, which is a good thing for success but a bad thing for morals, at least for me, but I did buy a super expensive sandwhich for some guy who asked me so I can't be too self centered yet, one prays.

Anyway, the book i'd been waiting for had arrived today, the first day I'd checked in a week. Anyway, it is a wonderful book and nearly made me cry on the bus home, even though I was still only in the prologue, so that is lovely lovely lovely and i really am horrified at the level of drivel I'm producing, but at least I have done it and so there you are. We'll see how tomorrow goes for writing- I'm going orienteering with a friend after work, so will probably be quite tired and sore. Goody Goody.

from last month some time...

So if journals are for secrets then here's mine: I crave attention, I need to be special. Some have surmised that's all that's wrong with ADD kids, but I always felt the spotlight when I was young. Anyway, I want my blog to be read by many, and that can only happen if it is interesting and dependable.

I don't think I'll ever be a great writer, but dependable is important to being an adult and not a flake, so in the interests of developing that it's occured to me to see how many days in a row i can post something, however uninteresting. Theoretically shame will then push me into finding interesting things to write beautifully about.

In the meantime however, random thought I'd started to write last month:

Need to figure out when I can leave and where I should go. This living in Canada thing... I love the mountains and i love the food and I love my family, but it's not where I'm at. I'm a little afraid that the longer I go away, the more I'll never be able to come back, but if I'm looking for God's will and not mine then I guess that's not valid.

Except I really don't know when God's talking and when I'm just trying to feel special. The whole Christian in the city thing is a big pain in the butt, to be honest. I am incapable of not believing, but neither do I do anything to foster belief.

Oy. I write like my life is something on television, over which I have no control. Since men watching sports seem to think that they control what's happening by their actions, why don't I have the same relationship to mine?

I guess I do, a little. I guess trying to write everyday to be more dependable is something like taking control.

So i'll just take a little moment here to say that I'm still a baby and don't like being away from my mommy and daddy. I dont' feel at home in Canada, but the thought of moving forever away from them is like a prison sentence. I went home two weeks ago for the weekend, and this weekend co-workers were going to party it up in Vancouver. I wanted to go too, not for the party but to jump out as they passed my Dad's.

Just rebooted my computer for no good reason at all, but have also then got to put a new picture on the desktop and it is so cool I thought I'd show you all.

Just one of the neat things you see when you live on the beach. (I was much luckier than the girl who lives there now, who saw a dead horse last month!)

Witchcraft ban ends in Zimbabwe

Not a ban on witchcraft, but a ban on accusing someone of witchcraft.

Witchcraft ban ends in Zimbabwe
By Steve Vickers
BBC, Harare
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/5134244.stm

Zimbabwe has unbanned the practice of witchcraft, repealing legislation dating back to colonial rule.

From July the government acknowledges that supernatural powers exists - but prohibits the use of magic to cause someone harm.

In 1899, colonial settlers made it a crime to accuse someone of being a witch or wizard - wary of the witch hunts in Europe a few centuries earlier which saw many people burned at the stake after such accusations.

But to most Zimbabweans, especially those who grew up in the rural areas, it has been absurd to say that the supernatural does not exist.

In fact, it is not hard to find vivid stories about the use of magic.

Alfred, for example, believes that he was bewitched at work some years ago, making him partly bald.

He described how after supper one evening as he and his wife were retiring to bed his hair disappeared.

"When my wife came into the bedroom she look at me and said, 'What happened to your hair? Where's it gone?'

"She saw a bald patch from the forehead going back on the side of the head. There was no trace of it," he says.

He spent seven months visiting traditional healers to make it grow back.

"She made some incisions round the bald patch, put some powdery muti (medicine) and lo and behold within a few day the hair had grown."

There are many other accounts of the use of magic, and the new law effectively legitimises many practices of traditional healers.

These include rolling bones to foretell the future, divination, attempts to communicate with the dead, using muti - traditional powders and fetishes - to ensure the desired sex of a child.

But there will be some legal grey areas, like whether it is legal for a husband to place some charms in his bedroom - charms that may injure his wife if she is unfaithful.

Professor Claude Mararikei - a sociologist and the chairman of Zimbabwe's Traditional Medical Practitioner's Council - argues that witchcraft has some positive benefits in the modern world.

He cites the example of a man who stole some bewitched cement that became stuck to the thief's shoulders so he could not remove the bag.

"So if you have that knowledge to capture a thief in a cattle kraal when he comes for the cows, well and good. It's like electrifying the fence round your house," he says.

'Waste of time'

Others believe that the country would be better off without elevating the supernatural.

"I think it's a waste of time and energy. The urban areas are not really caught up in these supernatural issues," says social commentator Thomas Deve.

"Claims of witchcraft need to be investigated instead of putting down every disorder in society that is taking in our society to witchcraft or modern magic," he adds.

The church in Zimbabwe has always believed that witchcraft exists, but it has been careful to establish the source of such supernatural powers.

"As Christians we've got to recognise that supernatural forces are good if they originate from God - now witchcraft is one of the things that originates from the Satanic world," says Reverend Roy Musasiwa who runs a theological college in the capital, Harare.

The Witchcraft Suppression Act was used fairly frequently, but prosecuting someone under the new legislation may prove difficult.

The new Criminal Law Codification and Reform Act will demand proof that a person has supernatural powers and that they are using them to harm others.

"It's not going to be easy task," says Custom Kachambwa, a judge with years of experience in the legal field.

He says witnesses will often be traditional healers, who could be accused of practising harmful magic in the future.

But whatever the problems, the repealing of the witchcraft laws is another sign that Zimbabwe's government is continuing to move away from Western values and placing more emphasis on the country's own traditions.

Published: 2006/07/02 23:31:49 GMT

© BBC MMVI

World Water Day

World Water Day is today.

read about Canadian water quality

I'm sorry that I have nothing interesting to say myself. I need to find a job and a place to live, and there is nought very interesting about that.

not haiti

but still poverty.

not as extreme, but still unjust. tchek byen sa:

interactive image

I especially find NIMBY facts nifty.

Worst speaker ever!

Two weeks ago I got home from the
Circle K (University Service Club, thing I've been calling "rotary thing") District Convention where I was accidentally the main speaker. Or something. I forgot to tell the
Governor that I have no concept of time, there was no clock in the
room, and I didn't have a watch myself. So, after breakfast (10 ish?)
I started to speak, supposed to do the first workshop. But then I
forgot my lines and couldn't remember how to get to the important
information except by doing a verbal dump of all the information I've
absorbed since leaving for Haiti. So instead of a
workshop, these poor folks volunteered for an example of cataclysmic
word diarrhea. If only the cure were as simple as for the regular
gastro-enteric diarrhea I've become expert in: wash hands, cook food.
(Although washing mouths with soap and cooking the books do exist as
treatments, they're not for this problem)

I have no idea how long I spoke for, but it was noon by the time I
finally moved off centre stage… and then kept talking through part of
lunch break. This at least wasn't entirely my fault, someone asked me a
question, and everyone else started listening. Probably I was talking
too loud, as I tend to do that when I'm speaking about something
important to me. The weird thing is, I actually wanted to try this whole "speaker" thing again.

and friends of family members have invited me to do so.

but i have spent two weeks now, trying to create some sort of plan for what I want to say, and I'd have done better to research lavatory construction in the middle ages, for I have naught to show.

I know i should introduce myself, the country (Haiti is bigger than Israel and has more people than Switzerland) and the problem (Finland has better water than Canada, but EVERYONE has better water than Haiti- , and most countries have better EVERYTHING than Haiti

But I don’t really know enough to talk about that concretely, not enough that I’d want someone quoting me. I thought Haiti was in the bottom 5 on the Human development Index, but it’s actually 25th from the bottom. It’s still, by far, the poorest in Western Hempisphere, but worldwide, 24 other country’s citizens have it crappier than Haitians.

woohowait...

That is not actually something to celebrate.
I’ve realized since returning to Canada that my world view has not gotten bigger with travel. I tried to explain this to an honoured guest at the conference banquet: I went to Haiti because I cared about justice, about people everywhere being equal. I also used to care about the environment, about the military; I even cared a little about Micro Breweries. Now all I care about is Haiti.

I can’t talk about hockey or the problems in Iraq or Uganda , or even water related problems in other countries. The only thing I know is Haiti, and most of that is third hand or subjective. I don’t think I can offer much as a speaker other than explanations of my pictures, and maybe shout down fears that keep people from traveling. Again, it is subjective, I know there are real gangs, but here is a picture of the only gang (“posse”) I remember from my eight months in Haiti:



Ti Cheri, mwen sonje nou anpil!

old mumblings, does anyone still care?

28 aug

I just watched Hotel Rwanda

Shit

What would I do if that happened here? I don’t think I could do anything. Would I be like all the whites that left, either scared or because I was told to? Would it help if I stayed?

Damn

I remember watching Schindler’s list. I felt guilt for my German ancestry.

Now I feel dread. That could happen again. Maybe over “race” - Although there are whites in Haiti, and people call out “blan” to me all the time, in conversation I’m usually described as “wouj.” (red) However, there are also “move blan” (Bad whites), that is, “White” Haitians. I’m not sure if that means people with the same colour skin as me, or just people that Haitians see as being white.

Yesterday while I was out working in another community I heard some kids yelling “blan” and I ignored them. I expected them to go away soon enough, but when they didn’t I asked what they wanted. I was sure surprised when they said they weren’t talking to me, and went out to see what another foreigner was doing there- had someone from work come to see how I was doing? No, turns out that one of the (Haitian) kids had been nicknamed “blan” by his friends. One of the children was slightly less black than the others, I have to admit… but then I realized that wasn’t the “blan”. The one I would have picked out as different was a ringleader in yelling at the boy they had nicknamed white!

So, there are three types of “whites” in Haiti, and all three are hated. There is also a proverb, “Mulat pov se nwa; neg rich se mulat” (A poor mulatto is black, a rich black man is mulatto.) Wealth is envied and hated here. My friend, Nicholas, tells me that the best thing you can do if you are poor and suddenly come into a lot of money is move far away where no one knows you and you can pretend you have always been rich. Otherwise people will think you are putting on airs, or that you took what should have been theirs, and they may hurt you.

So people are just as likely to get killed for how nice their house is as what colour they are. How likely is that? En masse, murder rates like in Kigali? Not very likely, I pray to God.

But individuals? I know a man that was shot through the neck, and I don’t know the story of why.

My host house was broken into and ransacked, and apparently my host mom would have been burned had she been there. They went to the house two hours past noon, and the whole neighborhood was out front- as many people as come to a football match- by the time I got there. The story of why, as much as I know, is that the hougan (voodou priest) told some people the reason their sister was sick was Yonese (my host mom) had put a curse on her.

There has been a warrant out for those vagabond’s arrest for two weeks now. Their address is known. The two families used to be friends, and when I heard that the other family had agreed to pay for reparation of the house, I was all ready to accept that and not send them to jail—A show of forgiveness, avoid furthering any enmity.

But, as Jack pointed out, what if Yonese had been there? Is an attempted murder less wrong than a successful one? No, its just that I’m squeamish at the thought of sending someone to jail. And I live here, and love Yonese, but I’m reluctant to fight to keep people who have tried to kill her off the streets of her neighborhood, her children’s neighborhood.

Which makes me think how unlikely it is that the UN’s mandate of non-interference will ever change…a society at peace does not have the stomach for mayhem..

Even, when they are in the middle of it.

So what will I do, if a time comes in Haiti when someone I love is in danger? What will I do if someone I have never met is in immediate danger?

CBC writes: Bad water in Canada

Water still a problem on 76 reserves

Seventy-six First Nations communities remain under an advisory to boil drinking water, according to new information from Health Canada.
...
"Often facilities are designed and put in place by people who don't have to operate them," he said. "They leave behind a manual and they leave town."
...
There are still no laws or regulatory standards similar to those in non-native communities, when it comes to drinking water for the about 325,000 residents of Canada's First Nations reserves.

rest of article: http://www.cbc.ca/story/canada/national/2006/02/20/aboriginal-water060220.html

RELATED: Aboriginal Waters: A Slow Boil

Kashechewan: Water crisis in Northern Ontario

Watchdog says Ottawa not protecting environment

One year anniversary!

The fourteenth of last February was my first day in Haiti, and I forgot to do the "One year ago today" thing. Oh no! I think it is because i haven't really gotten around to realizing that time has passed. The Calendar may say Feb 2006, but it feels like I've only been gone a little while. Nothing has really changed.

Except everything that has.

Anyway, notable things about my first day in Haiti:

• There were pink heart shaped balloons at the car dealership.
• I met mango madness, who has been full of Valentine's sentiment (love and encouragement)
• I met the boss and his buddy, who were full of beans and rice and stories about cars. and wonderfully innappropriate jokes.
  
• I was pleasantly surprised at how much better Pierre Payen smelled than "romantic" Paris
• I fell in love...

(Ok, it's cheesy, but that's kinda the point of the day, as far as I can see. Other than to distract from the birthdays of important people)

Val writes: Jean Franz misses me

but not as much as I miss him! I nearly cried when I opened an email from Jack with drawings he'd scanned from my friends. I don't think of myself as someone who cries all the time, but my memories of the past month don't support that idea. Except that I haven't actually had a good cry since I left Haiti, I just keep feeling like I'm going to. I started to cry in church today - They were singing a song about Africa- but then people came to comfort me.

I know I should have been grateful, but i was actually quite embitterred. I really need a good cry. I don't want to be comforted! There are things worth crying for, especially if the other option is joining the world of "Dead like Me". (and I don't just mean the one with Georgia and Rube)

val writes: Last day

I've been home for a while, and ready to return.

My last two days of work were quite busy with training the guys on staff and some ladies from the new project in Gonaives. It was a lot of fun and a good way to say goodbye to my job; Doing the thing I'd come to do, teach people how to help themselves, their friends, their neighbours. I was pretty proud of myself as I taught the class without an interpreter. I'd done short classes before, but this was my first time going solo for an advanced class.





I was panicking so bad I could see my heart throbbing in the mirror before we got started. Not because I was afraid I couldn't do it in kreyol, but because I felt like I couldn't teach at all. So it just goes to show you something, i'm not sure what. Anyway, I panicked that I couldn't teach, taught, and then learned more in one night than many previous nights. These businesslike women turned out to be about the same age and maturity as Leslie, Barb and I, and we had a most informative anatomy discussion which they then told me I couldn't repeat. I would pshaw that, except that since I've returned home I haven't used any creole and I've forgotten all my new words. Yet another (although lesser) reason to get back soon.

Val writes: exotic

Just incase anybody got here without being there before,

Before I was a blogger I livejournaled at http://www.livejournal.com/users/racinette/ and if you want to know antecedent thoughts and actions you can go there. You probably won't though, because if you haven't already been then you probably don't know me and don't care anyhow. But I like to feel important so I'm telling you anyway.

---
wow. sometimes I read my writing and am impressed; It seems plausible that I attend university.

Today I'm impressed that I graduated into highschool.

and I feel like telling you that, too. Oy. I really am becoming egoist, thinking that everyone cares what I think. I feared I would, because lots of people in Haiti pay far closer attention to me than most people in Canada, kind of like you pay more attention to someone's pet porcupine than you do their cat: I stick out.

That makes it sound like I'm exotic. Which probably conversely, makes it seem that Haitians are exotic. Neither is true.

I'm only exotic because of my skin. Nobody who's used to seeing me pays me any attention at all. Rather frustrating actually, as far as trying to make friends is concerned.

More important though, is something Jack and I discussed this evening, the exoticness of poverty. Or rather, how we like to think of the rest of the world as being exotic and other, but that at least in the case of Haiti, it's not really.

There is voudou, which is exotic , but really seems to not be terribly different from regular old Deism- the belief that there is a God who made everything, but that after that the creator went back to his day job. (veering off deism, but not terribly different from many a canadian: and now we createds are stuck doing are own thing, and sometimes you can get help with that from lesser spirits/angels whose schtick is winning the lottery or making your neighbour fall on the ice when he laughs at you, etcetera.

After that, Haitians don't have exotic clothes- mostly they wear goodwill rejects. By preference, the boys working here usually look like they come from inner city New York: Baggy shorts, "wife beater" (sorry Dom) tank top, ballcap, gold chain, you know the type.

They don't have exotic music- Celine Dion, and lots of Rap, especially Fifty Cent and Lucky Dube. There are some really good Haitian rappers, and I've developed enough of a taste for them that I'll probably force at home to listen to the songs Monsye Blan and San Fezi. There is also a style of music called compa that is unique to Haiti. I do not mean to say that Haiti has no culture and nothing good, certainly I would not want to come back if I believed that.

Americans have culture with good things and bad, Canadians have culture with good things and bad, English and Germans and Swiss have culture with good things and bad, and Haitians do too. They have a thriving music video industry, good (although somewhat repetitive) food, and a tolerable soap opera. I do not meant to say that Haiti has no culture of its own.

I do want to say that Haiti is not foreign, is not made up of noble savages. They eat the same food, watch the same movies, dream the same dreams, and fear the same death.

Haitians aren't ok with death. They're not ok with being sick, they're not ok with headaches. They complain of gas and mosquitoe bites. They're also dying of Thyphoid, Cholera, Tuberculosis, Aids, Malaria, but that doesn't mean they don't mind acid indigestion.

Little kids try to get out of doing their chores, and have temper tantrums when they are punished. They make fun of other little children, they cry to be picked up when they see their parent.

They don't even sing better than Canadians. (Although they do sing better than me, the same is true of a porcupine)

Haitians are people.

val writes: Christmas time

We are doing a little Christmas thing for our favourite Haitian kids, and it’s got me a little at odds with myself. I’m also getting ready to pack to go home, and thinking about how much stuff I have there, and how much I have here, I almost want to go home with a suitcase full of sea shells and leave everything else here.

I came to this mission because I don’t believe in just giving stuff away, didn’t I? so what has changed? Am I just trying to alleviate the guilt of leaving Haiti- buying redemption, no longer through service, but with trinkets and toiletries?

That would be silly because there’s no way even still that I could measure up- I didn’t spend my money on most of said trinkets, much of it comes from the oppression of other children in other countries. Anyway, I could never work as hard as many other aid workers, or have a good enough attitude, or enough knowledge… I will never be good enough all by myself. Mother Theresa said something like, “I only look after the drops of water I’m given, God looks after the oceans” so I don’t need to feel guilty. But I do still need to know what things to give away and what things to keep.

val writes an update

Hey Everyone,





I'm Going home really soon, and haven't sent out a letter in a long time.

Hopefully you've been able to read my blog, as I did start updating it reasonably regularly for a bit… and then the internet stopped working, so I felt absolved of that responsibility. If you don't read it, (which you should, even after you read this! www.racinette.blogspot.com/) here's the brief version: (with really bad paragraph divisions)



Filter sales went really well. We finally got Haitians to start selling them to their neighbours in a big way, and even had to hire some new staff to increase production. As soon as we got it sorted



Foreign volunteers went home (except me) and I stopped working on the project because



My mom came to visit me for Christmas! I was really happy to see her and get to form a new relationship with less childhood behavioural patterns in the way. (She didn't have to remind me to clean my room or do the dishes once!) We worked on base and visited Haiti a little, but there were lots of things we didn't get to do because I got distracted by feeling responsible for the mission, feeling overwhelmed by how many really cool things there are in Haiti that I wanted to show her and



Being robbed at gunpoint. That was scary and I didn't get much done after that- other than talking to police, which I should write about at some point (check the blog!), lots of differences there- and won't be able to get much done now on the project as



I fly home in eight days. This is pretty annoying as the time left after Christmas should have been sufficient to do a good wrap up on the project and tie everything up in a pretty bow (I was trying to decide on yellow or purple) to hand off to Jack and the Haitians we've hired and trained. I was considering changing my plane ticket if I needed a bit more time to do this, and also to do a little travelling to visit other aid groups and regions in Haiti, as my CWH project is finished with me (the next stages won't really benefit from my skills) but I'm not finished with Haiti and wanted to research returning. However, it started to become clear while mom was here that



I am getting really tired and ready to come home. I miss

hot showers
and
cold weather
and
spicy food
and
bland days where I'm not confused 18 hours at a time
and
good conversations with friends and family
and
bad political debates
and
…



When Lisa was getting ready to come back to Canada she wrote a beautiful list of all the culture shock she was expecting. I'm cutting my list short as I fear that trying to emulate her skill in writing will take all the time I have left in this country, as well as make me forget to value the tons of things I do love -- every time I leave the house I nearly come to tears thinking how much I'm going to miss it here.



For which reason, I really want to get out there and take pictures of everything, and then I will live in picture land when I get home. Hopefully you enjoy looking at pictures too and then I will share my experiences with you. (People here have even complimented me on some of them, so I think my photography has improved since February.)

I'm getting home in time for this thing called Missions fest in Vancouver, After that I have no set plans, and would love to see you, especially if I don't have to pay for the transportation.



Oh right, so money stuff:

As some of you know, I pay staff fees to Clean Water for Haiti to cover food and what-not so that all mission donations go directly to filters. I haven't paid very close attention to this, so it turns out I owe slightly less than 500 Canadian right now. I didn't understand that it was my responsibility to follow up with the accountant to make sure money given on my behalf was credited to me, so if you sent money and I never thanked you for it, please let me know as I probably did not receive it.



(Also, if you sent me a letter and I did not thank you for it, please let me know as I probably started writing you and then got distracted by a pretty hummingbird, but did not mean to be uncommunicative or ungrateful or waste the piece of paper. Getting letters is the most pleasant thing in the world. You can even write to me once I'm back in Canada, and I will be quite content and do my best to write you back a most scintillating epic…or maybe something less erudite but hopefully still enjoyable)


If you would like to support me financially or send me a letter, you can post a comment and I'll figure out a way to send you contact info.

(There Aunty, I did it! (thank you for reminding me) Now back to regularly scheduled programming)



…no set plans.



I am not sure how I'm feeling about this. Sometimes it feels exciting, like I'll be open to all sorts of Really Important Things, and sometimes it feels terrifying, like I'm going to have no Job and no House and no Reason For Being. Please send me ideas and suggestions and if you care to, pray for this.



Also, for you praying types, please pray that my last week here is focused and effective but still has room for play. I'd like for my efforts to have increased health and not to have simply taken eight months to learn a language spoken by eight million people.



Really, please pray for Haiti. The political situation here is kinda terrible, and I'd like to be able to offer you an insider's opinion, but I've not enough knowledge or time in country to qualify, and no three people I talk to seem to agree on what needs to happen, although sadly there is much discussion, amongst Haitians and foreigners, about twouble Ayiti. I've been reading a few books about it and they are mostly pretty terrifying, so I think right now I will just get back to living in Haiti and talk about it (or whatever) when I see you.



Which will be soon, I hope.

val writes: ok, really

Mom left a week ago today and I've maybe used the internet five times since. This is not because I've been especially busy, although I have, or that I've been in terrible shock, although I was, but just because this is Haiti and sometimes things here are difficult.

Right now, the internet is being difficult.

Really, usually something in Haiti is difficult, very few things are as easy as they are in Canada. When my mom was here we had the kitchen painted, but only after going to three stores looking for paint. We weren't haggling the price, the first two paint stores just didn't have the paint we wanted. (oil paint, in some colour of blue, we weren't terribly picky!)

Today, another volunteer and I tried to buy a radio, so we went to a store that had a sign advertising radios. Unfortunately, this seems to have been a sign advertising paints. Or something.

Despite the country being difficult, I am very much going to miss this place. I realized today that I have only ten days left, and I can't imagine being ready to go at the end of that. Some people, including my boss, offered to let me leave early, after the robbery and the trauma and what not.

I am sure they are right that I am in shock, and that I won't be able to deal with it til I get to familiar surroundings, but I find that even so I'm not yet ready to leave. Proverbs of getting back on the horse canter through my thoughts, but more than that, the robbery was one incident, and I have eight months of other, better incidents, which I would rather put my attentions on.

Jack and I went swimming and coloured pictures with our girls today, and I held a little baby while her mother was off doing laundry. Yesterday I heard some Haitian bluegrass on the radio. The day before I watched a brother and sister fighting over who was the better chess player- the one who'd escaped from losing by causing a stalemate or the one who'd nearly won.

I love normal things like that, things that are familiar, that do remind me of being in Canada, and I want to experience as many of them- and as many hugs from the dear little kids who run up to me everyday- as I can, so that I can always hold those memories in my heart.

Although I hope I aren't holding them only as memories for too long. I want to come back to Haiti. I just want a bit of a break- a hot shower, some curry, a snowball fight- first. And maybe some schooling, or a job, I suppose.

What I don't want is to go home scared and then never want to come back. Because even while I am here, scared, I am still glad I am here.

val writes: Done.

It has been decided that I am in shock following the robbery. By which is meant that I have no energy to face the world and just want to curl up with a blanket and crawl into bed. Familiar sounding, except I never would have believed myself capable of using a blanket in this attrocious heat. Or what I am told is attrocious; in addition to using blankets I've started shivering when I get out of the shower.

So, update on the robbery: i spent two days with police and tribunals and what not and achieved nada. I've moved to a friend's house til more volunteers get back and have left the house full of young men who work for us, as well as the old guardian.

Mom left yesterday morning and I hope she will be okay. I took her to the lighthouse on thursday afternoon and that seemed to be a really good thing, I am glad it worked out for that to be her last memory of Haiti.

I still love this country and its children. I'm just a little exhausted at the thought of the adult demographic right now. Definitely ready to come home- less than twenty days now!

Val writes: Robbed

I'm okay, no one is hurt, but we were robbed last night. He had a ski mask and a gun, and got about 70 or 80 USD. Spent the night at a neighbour's, today is spent trying to track down a truck to loan the police so they can make arrests and inquiries.

This is the second time my house has been broken into since I came to haiti eight months ago. The perpetrators from the last time are still at large, so I am mostly feeling worn out thinking that all the efforts I make today will be for nothing. But at least I will probably be able to track down a truck with one of my friends. And can afford security measures. If I were Haitian, I'd have an even smaller chance of justice.

... Got a truck, have to go back to the police station. Please pray for us and the police and the perpetrator and Haiti, for wisdom and courage, and stuff. Safety stuff too I guess.

val writes: gourd

I just made a kwi- a hollowed out calabas/gourd which is used as a bowl. I’ve made them before, but this time I think I may have done it almost right and almost by myself. I always thought that it was a matter of cutting it open, scooping out the gunk, and we! You’re serving salad ayitièn at your cousin’s wedding. Not so, it turns out. First one scores the gourd with a knife, then one goes along with the knife and a rock and hammers a crack along that line. Then one cuts through the crack, before finally tearing it open. Usually it’s not cut exactly straight, so one has to cut all the sharp or bumpy edges away. I couldn’t manage to get this part right- rather afraid of cutting off my hand or foot swinging at it like I was shown, so this little 8 year old girl did it for me.

The next step is removal of gunk, which goes pretty much as you’d expect. (Take spoon, scoop.) One must be very careful to scrape all of the “fruit” out, and the little girl had to help me finish this part of mine too. After that, one must rub the gourd with a lime to cure it, or something. I don’t understand exactly, but I guess the inside will turn black if you don’t. After that the gourd just needs rinsing with water and time to dry- two or three days- and then one has made a kwi.

As well as making the kwi, I screwed up yesterday. Or maybe I didn’t as far as the rules of the mission go, but as far as the rules of Haitian culture goes, I did. A staff member came by to charge his cell phone early in the morning just as mom and I had prepared breakfast, and after I’d finished my business with him he sat down on the bench and sat. I now think he was waiting for me to to invite him to share our breakfast- simple oranges and coffee, nothing that would be too costly to intrude on. It just didn’t occur to me though, even though I know the culture is to share (especially food), I was with my mom and in my North American mindset and completely zoned, and eventually he just left. Ooops.

He came back later to pick up the cell phone and I was working at my gourd, and he told me to rub it with lime so I guess he forgave me and remembered that I’m just an ignorant blanc who doesn’t know any better.

Except I do. It’s a part of my culture to share food too. Our friend was visiting to use the computer this evening and dinner was ready just a bit after he arrived so we invited him to eat with us, and had a very enjoyable evening. I really enjoy sitting around food and talking, and that is why it is so sad that I missed the chance to visit with our technician on his day off.

val writes a sidenote

Two of our male workers just took a shower together. Men (or women)who are just friends are also free to hold hands when they walk down the road. I’ve heard that Haiti is intolerant of homosexuals, but I don’t know how anyone would notice… although I guess since everybody lives so close together, everybody knows everything.