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)