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.