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.

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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.