It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

X-mas has arrived in Haiti.

Merchants along the smoggy, congested main route in Port-au-Prince, Rue Delmas, are decked-out (get it?). Christmas lights. Christmas trees. Tinsel. Red and green flashing reindeer. Life-sized dancing Santas. Not to mention the special christmas deals offered by the two cellphone companies, Digicel and Voila. And all of this started appearing mid-November.

Despite the familiar commercialization, it feels more like our summer family vacations to Santa Clause World in smoldering southern Indiana than the two weeks before Christmas. Nothing makes a person realize the categorical boxes into which she has organized the world more than living in a different culture.

Christmas is cold. Christmas is peppermint flavored hot cocoa. It's shivering under the brown blanket in the back of the car to hunt christmas light displays after Andrea and I had played at our piano recitals. And it's baking christmas cookies to warm the house as much as to eat the cookies. Though we often didn't have snow on Christmas day, it was nearly as exciting to go to bed hoping for a fresh cover of snow as it was dreaming of the battery-operated pink Barbie motorcycle I had asked for.

But not in Haiti.

Last week, I went swimming in the ocean at night. (Granted, it really was too cold for that.) Sunday, Rebecca and I baked christmas cookies wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts.

All of this -- the commercial displays and my lack of festivity -- is a good reminder that I don't need to "feel" like it's Christmas. Still, I am a tiny bit jealous of mom and dad's ice-storm...

-L

Your Participation Requested

Dear friends and family,

The family of a fellow MCCer, Brian, has found itself in a bit of a quandary. Brian's dad once received a life-size papier-mache dog as a gift of gratitude from a man he assisted. (No, papier-mache dogs are not a normal gift here, and no one understands why this man thought it appropriate.) Though this dog has become a treasured part of Brian's family (namely due to the practical jokes they have played using the dog), they have yet to find a name for their beloved friend. This is where you come in.

Take a few moments to ponder: If you had a papier-mache dog, what would you name it?

Please submit your ideas by using the "comments" link at the bottom. You are welcome to submit as many names as you like, just be sure that they are names you would give to a papier-mache dog of your own.

Thanks for your help and participation.

-L

My (Haitian) Family

It has come to my attention that I occasionally throw out names of Bernadette's family, causing confusion in blogs, emails, chats, and conversations. Here's a quick run-down... (actual hand-drawn family-tree to come at a later time)

Bernadette Hyacinthe: Mother of family. Woman with whom I live.

Gabrielle Hyacinthe: Oldest child. Known as the dancer in the family.

• Mikey: Gabrielle's (16? 17? year old) son. Often spends weekends at Bernadette's. Splits his schooling between Haiti and the States, and thus is fluent in Kreyol, French, and English.

Bernady Hyacinthe: Oldest son. Comes over nearly every evening to eat dinner and watch Brazilian soaps before going home to eat (a second) dinner with his family. Also usually spends all day Saturday & Sunday at the house watching soccer.

• Gilberte: Bernady's wife. When she can get away, she also comes over to watch Brazilian soaps.
• Bernady & Gilberte have 5 children. I'm still trying to remember all their names, not to mention which of the random children who come to our house to watch TV are theirs.
  

Marytza Belmur: 3rd child, and the person I know least in the family. She did buy an incredible chocolate cake the other week for Giwo's (see below) birthday, so I think I like her.

• Jacques: Marytza's husband
  

Guylene Clerge: Woman who works for MCC. Apparently she, of all the children, is the most similar to Bernadette, and so to preserve her sanity -- as well as her mother's -- she doesn't come by the house often. Known as the religious one of the children.

• Sebastien: Guylene's son. Often lives at the house (apparently lived with Bernadette almost entirely before I arrived). He's 14. What more do I need to say.
  

Girauld (Giwo) Hyacinthe: An "everybody's-buddy" kind of guy. Comes to the house Sundays for lunch and seems to be the one designated to bring wine. Known as the partier of the family.

• Nathalie: Giwo's wife. Occasionally comes for lunch on Sundays. Something about the way she carries herself seems very American, though she's lived her whole life in Haiti.
• Giwo & Nathalie have an adorable 1-1/2 year old and another on the way.
  

Louis Philippe (Pipo) Hyacenthe: The youngest child. Has taken up the habit of coming by Saturday mornings to sit and discuss everything under the sun with me while I eat breakfast. (Please. Just let me have coffee before forcing me to explain my views on homosexuality in Kreyol.) Known as the good kid, but actually parties just as much as Giwo.

• Rachelle: Pipo's wife. Doesn't talk much. (Right now pregnant with their first child, but the baby is having serious complications, so keep her, the baby, and Pipo in your prayers!)
  

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Other notable names:

Gabriel Hyacinthe: The children's father. Separated from Bernadette but occasionally stops by to see the kids. (Why he visits them at Bernadette's is beyond me.)

Francis: Our house-keeper/water-transporter/guardian. Very quiet and patient.

Adeline: Our cook. She generally stays quiet, but you can tell she's a firey one!

-L

Almost Famous

I'm white. Pale white. Pasty pale white. So, as you can imagine, I stand out here in Haiti -- even in Port-au-Prince which is overrun with (often white) development workers, the UN, and missionaries. I do what I can to try to not draw attention to myself, but it makes little difference. Though I generally find the attention annoying at best, it does lead to a few humorous instances. For instance...

Brush #1 with fame:
Up at the top of my street is a gas station. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights hundreds of men (and a few brave women) gather 'round the ol' gas station, the crowd spilling out into the streets. Why? My best guess is it's the one place in the neighborhood that has reliable electricity. And because there is a live DJ. That's right, the gas station becomes a club.

A couple of weeks ago, a few of my fellow MCCers came over to my house to watch a movie. Kurt & I walked up to the convenient store inside the gas station to buy some snacks. As we pushed our way to the front of the crowd, the DJ stopped mid sentence and cried out (over the loud speaker, mind you) "BLAAAN!" (translation: white people) And he kept going: "Hey, there are white people here!" "Everyone, look at the white people!" "Hey, my white friends!" And so on. I smiled and waved at the DJ and pushed my way inside the store as fast as possible. Of course, he was kind enough to point us out to the entire crowd on our way out as well. I decided that chips during a movie are not worth the celebrity.

Brush #2 with fame:
Though I am a spectacle in the countryside, it's not quite so bad in Port. Like I mentioned, there are a good number of foreigners, so the attention is spread amongst us all. And foreigners don't stare at other foreigners. Or so I thought.

The other day, I was riding on the back of a tap-tap up to the MCC office. Traffic was particularly bad, to the point that most of the drivers put their cars in park and turned off the engines. As I was looking around at the other cars, I noticed an SUV for a well-known international organization not far behind us that had 4 or so "blan" inside. They were all staring at me. I figured maybe they had just noticed me and were commenting on the fact that not many foreigners take tap-taps. But each time I glanced at the passengers (throughout the next half-hour of traffic), same story: they were all staring at me.

So, it's not enough that rural Haitians stare at me, but now other "blan" do as well. Great.

Brush #3 with fame:
Not really a brush with fame (that is, even less so than the above stories), but I know you're all wondering how I spent Canadian Thanksgiving last month. Here you go: http://100milediet.org/2007-canadian-thanksgiving-in-haiti

-L

Your Friendly Weather Update

Kurt told me this morning that we've been having a hurricane the past couple days. I thought it was just raining a lot. Anyway, for those of you who might be concerned (grandma), I'm fine.

-L

Outbreak

When North Americans travel abroad, it's generally understood that we will get sick. Perhaps the local cuisine includes a spice our bodies are not accustomed to. Perhaps the food bought from the street vendor wasn't as well cooked as it had appeared, despite being twice-fried in 3 inches of grease. Or, perhaps like Brad Pitt's character in the opening scene of Babel, we simply cannot resist the lure of an ice-cold soda. I came to Haiti mentally prepared to experience all sorts of digestive adventures. I did not, however, expect Pink Eye.

I had pink eye when I was young. I have a bizarre snapshot of a memory of it: it was mothers' day...we were at a large banquet with all women...I was wearing a pair of white gloves and my socks had ruffles...I repeatedly assured everyone who looked at me: it's okay, I'm not contagious anymore—words I'm sure mom had had me repeat till I'd memorized them. I remember my eyes itching horribly, but I also remember making my own sort of peace with the illness. After all, pink was my favorite color, and if you're going to come down with a disease, it might as well have as forgivable a name as "pink eye." Certainly, that made it much easier to endure than ailments I came down with later in life, say "green hair."

Somehow, I'd come to assume that pink eye belonged in the same realm with chicken-pox: you get it once when you're young, and then never again. Oh! How I was wrong.

It started Sunday morning with an itch that wouldn't leave my left eye. By the afternoon, it was getting worse. I kept assuring myself that I'd simply gotten a persistent speck of dirt in my eye, till I was standing on the balcony chatting with Bernady and his friend when one of them said: Hey look! It just spread to your other eye, too!

What just spread to my other eye???

They explained that it wasn't serious, it was something going around Port right now, parts of the family had had it last week, I just needed some eye drops...and no, I wouldn't die.

Monday morning after walking blindly to the bathroom to wash my face I went to the pharmacy, barely able to open my swollen eyes. The pharmacist gave me an antibiotic ointment, so I took off my sunglasses to be sure we had understood each other and that this ointment would, in fact, cure me. For the next 3 days I didn't leave the house. I slept. I did my Kreyol homework. I watched a Brazilian soccer match. I washed my face and applied ointment 3 times each day. I organized my dresser. I called fellow MCCers to ask if there was anything they needed me to sit around and think about. I read Greene's "The Comedians" and two issues of Harper's. I stared at the wall (what else do you do when you've just read that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket and you're cooped up inside with pink eye?). I played Solitaire.

Wednesday night, I decided that I probably wasn't contagious anymore. I mean, my eyes certainly looked much better...still a colorful mixture of bloodshot and jaundice, but worlds better from what they'd been Monday. Family members had started greeting me with a kiss on the cheek again. And when I asked them if they thought it was safe, the only objection that was given was that I looked a bit like a vampire. When I came into the office this morning, my coworkers were all good-humored about it. Some ran from me. Others shaded their eyes. And a few just sat and laughed.

Now, if I can just manage to avoid the flu that's going around...

-L

There You Have It

Oh wow. I just discovered that it's really scary the first time you see one of your translations go out in an email to important people.

-L

Off to Work

I finally started work! (Is it odd that I'm so excited about working?) Last Monday, the 24th, Charity (the MCC Haiti Country Rep) picked me up from the apartment and we headed down to RNDDH. After a few formal introductions & a quick refresher-tour, Charity wished me luck & took off. It felt like the first day of kindergarten. Not that I remember my first day of kindergarten, but I'm sure it was similar.

Then, we had our Monday staff meeting.

Every Monday, all 10 or so of us gather in the conference room for the weekly staff meeting. RNDDH's structure is highly collaborative, so the Monday meetings provide the opportunity for progress updates, collaboration, brainstorming...and debates. Haitians (yep, I'm giving in to generalizations) love people and love talking, and the "highest" form of talking is debate. You can get into a debate with anyone anywhere in this country. And in an office full of people with varying amounts of training in law, watch out! The wonderful thing is people get so caught up in the debate that you think they're about to start a fist fight, but then everyone is friends again when the debate is over. The not-so-wonderful thing is that it's really hard to follow debates when you're learning the language. The other not-so-wonderful thing is that when people debate every topic brought up in a staff meeting, the meeting literally goes all day. Oh, and I'm supposed to take the minutes next week.

The office provides lunch for us, which is great. Long about 1:30 we all gather 'round the dining room table to feast. Pierre, the director of RNDDH, provides the entertainment by selecting one or two people each day to tease. The first time he picked on me, I tried to pretend I didn't understand what he was saying. Unfortunately for me he also speaks French & English, so my lack of Kreyol was no hindrance. It's quite fun, though, particularly since he spreads around the teasing.

As for work, things have been slow for me so far. I'm in charge of laying-out the newsletter, so I've been trying to teach myself Microsoft Publisher. Oh now I miss the days of InDesign. Not to mention using a Mac. (Can you be homesick over a computer system?) I translated a short 3-page piece yesterday (French to English). It took me longer than it should have, but I figure that's ok for my first time. Today I believe that I agreed to work on the website, so I'll soon be teaching myself the basics of website management. At some point I should have the opportunity to accompany my coworkers when they do prison visits, but I have to get my clearance first.

Sorry, I know this is again just a big dumping of information, but hopefully it gives you an idea of how I'll be spending my days.

-L

Something of Substance

Confession time. I haven't really liked my blog so far (particularly not after reading yours, Lora). I feel like all of my posts have been mass dumpings of uninteresting information. I tell you I go to the mountains, but I don't feel that I convey any of the emotions involved with the trip. Unfortunately, due to the vast amount of information I feel I need to convey and the limited access I have had to computers, that's how it has ended up. If any of you have noticed this as well, rest assured that I will try to change.

As my first attempt, here are a few things I'm working through. For those of you who believe in God, consider these my prayer requests.

Energy & Sleep.
Life in a new country is exhausting. I often find myself going mentally blank in the middle of conversations simply because I do not have any energy left to try to understand what people are saying. This problem is compounded by the roosters that begin crowing at 4am (sound familiar, Brent?), the dogs that bark all night, and the group of people who sit in the alley outside my window and blare hip-hop till all hours of the night. I fear that good sleep will be hard to come by.

Relationships.
I love the North American MCC staff. This is a HUGE blessing, seeing as they're my main support. I have also connected fairly well with the Haitians who have spent time working with MCC. This is also a huge blessing. I have a difficult time, though, reminding myself that after 1 month in the country, it's okay that my relationships only exist with "Americanized Haitians." I have to remember that this is the first step in learning to relate Haitians who do not understand the idiosyncrasies of cross-cultural relationships.

Stress.
Port is a stressful city. It's overcrowded. It's aggressive. It's hot. Things never work like they're supposed to. People are literally struggling to stay alive, not to mention the struggle they go through to provide for their families. I am trying to not internalize the stressful energy that drives Port, but it's difficult to live in it without it effecting me.

Work.
I start work at RNDDH Monday. I'm excited, but nervous as well.

Language.
Today is my last Kreyol lesson & I feel like I just hit a wall in my language development. Things that should make sense don't; there seems to be a million different ways to say the same thing; and despite all of its similarities with French, I'm still learning a whole new language with all that implies. It's wonderful and frustrating all at the same time.

Praise.
I got my first letter in the mail yesterday! Yea! Thanks, mom and dad. It made my day.

-L

Word Play

Language is a funny thing, no? A few words can convey so much. Here are some of my favorite phrases I've heard and or learned so far.

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Essential Kreyol for the Countryside (Those of you who know Kreyol, forgive the spelling!)

Kr:

"Ou mache?"
"Wi, m mache."

Eng:

"Are you out for a walk?"
"Yes, I'm out for a walk."

This exchange occurs with each person you pass, whether they're out on the road, too, or in their yard.

Kr:

"W'ap banye?"
"Wi, m'ap banye."

Eng:

"Are you taking a bath?"
"Yes, I'm taking a bath."

This exchange occurs with each person who passes by while you bathe in the river.

Kr:

"Ai! Anpil labu!"
"Wi, anpil labu."

Eng:

"Wow. You're really muddy."
"Yes, I'm very muddy."

Somehow Haitians are able to walk through mud without getting muddy. I am not.

Kr:

"M pa rele Este. Este se lot blan."

Eng:

"My name is not Esther. Esther is the other white person who lives here."

This was my response to the children who called out "Esther" each time I walked past. Esther is one of the MCCers in Dezam. I think they have adopted her name as another word for "blan" or "white person."

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I chuckle (for lack of other healthy response) that in my Kreyol book's listing on "Common Creole Verbs" it has the translations for "Assassinate," "Over Throw," "Arrest," "Decree," alongside "Hope."

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Conversation of the week:

Bethany: "Wow, Lindsay! What happened to your legs?"

Me, looking down at my legs: "Huh? What? Where?"

Bethany, the look of horror increasing on her face: "Are those ALL mosquito bites???"

Me: "Oh, yeah, mosquito and some other type of bug they have in the mountains."

Marylynn, shaking her head: "Oh my goodness. Do you remember how beautiful Lindsay's legs were when she came?"

-L

The Road to Bois de Laurence

...is rough.

A few days after returning to Dezam, I went with another MCCer, Brian, up to a small mountain village named Bois de Laurence. The trip takes anywhere between 8 to 12 hours, depending on how many times you get stuck. (Actually, it could take even longer if you really get stuck.) We only got stuck a few times, so it only took us 10 hours. Let's just say I have deep respect for Land Rovers, Brian's driving skills, and people (such as Brian) who can dig a Land Rover out of the mud with a machete.

MCC used to have a relatively large program in BDL, but they phased it out a year or two ago. They maintain connections, though, with a local group who works on spring capping. So, every couple of months, Brian heads up to BDL to deliver supplies, deliver money, and maintain relationships. I convinced him to take me along.

BDL is a beautiful village. It's close to the border with the DR, so the deforestation isn't quite as severe. There is no electricity, and to use a cell phone you have to climb to the top of the mountain a little way out of town and stand in 1 specific spot on a hill. Because of its remoteness, people have been minimally effected by television and other aspects of globalization. People are kind and generous. The weather is cool. (One night I was so cold I couldn't sleep!) There are fresh fruit and vegetables everywhere. It seems a little like paradise -- till you start to realize the problems.

They grow wonderful produce, but have no way to transport it to other towns to be sold. The closest hospital is at least an hour and a half away. People die from things like childbirth and diarrhea. Education is minimal.

----

Brian was going to BDL to work with a small group of veterinarians who had come to put on a 2-day clinic. The first day they did a refresher training for local vets and the 2nd day the gave free vaccinations to animals. They offered to walk me through the process of neutering a dog, but I politely declined. I know, I know, I've completely lost my sense of adventure. I did watch, though.

Brian, two of the vets (Kelly & Liz), and I stayed with a couple who have worked for MCC over the years, Niniz and Milsent. When I wasn't watching animals being poked, pricked, and cut, I spent my time with Niniz, Milsnet, and their son, Macdo. Niniz taught me how to make coffee with sugarcane syrup and how to make mai mole (the corn dish similar to couscous). She showed me where they press the sugarcane and we told jokes and laughed till my sides hurt. Milsent took me around the other side of the mountain to his gardens where I napped under a tree in the middle of his rice paddy and ate orange after orange from his grove. Macdo, Kelly, Liz & I played Uno by lantern. We sat outside talking and watching the stars till we were exhausted. It was absolutely wonderful. Niniz made me promise I would come back soon, and I hope I can.

-L

Club Indigo

MCC Haiti held its annual retreat at a former Club Med, now called Club Indigo. I know, I know, Mennonites are supposed to live simply. The problem is, a shabby hotel in Haiti costs just as much as a luxury hotel. And it turns out that Club Indigo had the best group rates, so to the luxury beach resort we went!

3-1/2 days of swimming in the ocean, swimming in a pool, showering in hot water, sleeping in air-conditioning -- not to mention electricity 24-7 -- it was glorious. Oh, we also had morning devotions, staff meetings, team-building games, and cross-cultural sessions. Still, glorious.

One night we stayed up late to watch a documentary one of the MCCers, Josh, made with his cousin. It's hilarious -- along the lines of "Best in Show." If you want to check it out, their website is "www.crokinolemovie.com".

Anyway, Sunday afternoon, we packed up and headed out. It was storming all day Sunday, and part of the road back to Dezam had washed away in one town. Back to reality.

-L

Reason 758 to Not Like Cats

So, after a few weeks here, I finally feel like I not only have a story worth telling, but even time to tell it! Yea for sleeping in the MCC office!

A little background information... The family I've been staying with in Dezam has a pig, a chicken with some chicks, and a cat. Sometimes at night the cat comes into my room. One night the cat jumped on me in the middle of the night. I turned on my flashlight to see what was happening & discovered that there are a number of large bugs that crawl around my room when its dark. I never really figured out why the cat jumped on me, but after that I decided to avoid turning on my flashlight at night.

So last Wednesday night we had a big rainstorm that started shortly after I went to bed and lasted through a good portion of the night. The cat came into my room almost immediately after it started raining. I heard it rustling around, and then I heard something fall. I hadn't had the lamp off long, so I went ahead and grabbed my flashlight & turned it on to find the cat nosing around in the basket I use to hold my clothes. It had tipped the basket over, so I got up & shooed it out.

A little while later, the cat came back in. By this point I was almost asleep so I was in that strange mental place between awake and dreaming. The cat meowed a few times and then started growling. I was a little afraid. Was the cat growling at me? Was the cat growling at a large bug? Was the cat demon possessed? (I was tired and afraid, ok?) Too afraid to turn on my light, I just laid there hoping that it was simply a matter of the cat disliking rain.

Sometime after that, I heard new noises. I laid there listening and finally concluded that the chicks had made their way into my room to get out of the rain. "Ok," I thought, "I have no problem with chicks." But then they started screaming. Immediately I concluded that a tarantula must be eating them. I felt horrible that these poor baby chicks were being consumed by a tarantula, but I'm terrified of arachnids, so I didn't know what to do. I finally convinced myself that it wasn't tarantulas, but instead it was the cat eating them. It wasn't really a pretty picture, but something I felt I could handle.

After hours of listening to the chicks scream I finally started dozing in and out of sleep. One of the times I woke up I decided that they weren't being eaten. They were probably hungry &/or were scared of lightening. Finally, 4:30 came.

I had to be at the MCC office at 5am Thursday, so I slowly sat up in bed, picked up my flashlight, and looked at the ground. No dead chicks. No chicks at all actually. But something was still making that screaming noise. I slipped on my flip-flops & moved toward the noise. It was coming from the basket with my clothes. I looked inside to find the cat curled up with 2 brand-new kittens.

Apparently the cat had given birth in the middle of the night. On one of my dresses. But my relief at not finding a tarantula devouring baby chicks helped me get past the disgust of a cat giving birth on my clothes.

The rest of Wednesday was pretty interesting as well. My flip-flop broke when I was crossing a river. Esther, Frantzo, Naomi & I climbed a mountain. The hike was gorgeous. My hiking was not. (Think back to our hiking trip, Malcolm. Yeah, I'm not in any better shape.) I took a nap on a rock by a waterfall for a couple hours while the others climbed up the waterfall to check on MCC's reforestation work. I watched women in short skirts with machetes in 1 hand and bags of avocados in the other hand climb up over the waterfall barefoot. I dropped my tennis shoe in a river. I ran through the river barefoot to try to catch it. I was unsuccessful in catching it. I found a boy by the river & asked if he'd seen a shoe float by. I started to cry when he said "no" & I realized that I only had 1 shoe to hike back down the mountain in. Then a girl further downstream found my shoe and gave it to me. I bathed under the waterfall. We hiked back down. We had lunch. Then we piled in the trucks to go to the beach for the MCC retreat.

Anyway, after all that, I dislike cats even more than I did before, and I now have a fear of losing my shoes in water. G'night.

-L

Food, Glorious Food

Food. Always a topic of interest, eh? Here in Haiti, and particularly in Dezam, the main meal of the day is lunch (called "diner"). Breakfast and dinner also exist (for those who can afford it anyway), but receive much less attention. The family with which I have been living in Dezam has a good-sized breakfast, a huge lunch, and maybe a few bites of left-over rice for dinner. Personally, I haven't been hungry for dinner during my time here because I've been eating so much at lunch (and also because I go to sleep around the time I would normally have dinner in the States).

Here in Dezam, the food has been wonderful! (Of course, the family has been very understanding about my vegetarianism, which significantly reduces the number of "inedible" dishes they might serve me.) Rice is the staple, though 20 years ago or so that was not the case. Previously corn & millet were staples, but today Haitians don't consider themselves as having eaten if the meal didn't include rice.

Maggi is also a staple. Everything includes a good amount of Maggi, which is similar to bouillon cubes. As far as I can tell, it's lots of salt, some garlic, and several manufactured flavors.

Here are a few dishes I've tried.

Breakfast
Spaghetti. Spaghetti is the meal of choice for breakfast. (Yes, Michelle, my strange eating habits have paid off!) The noodles are boiled, drained, and returned to the pot. Then, several tablespoons worth of oil are added in along with about 1 or 1.5 tablespoons of tomato paste. Sonya also adds about a tablespoon worth of a paste that she makes from maggi, ham(?), garlic, water, and a parsley-like leaf. That combination is fried for several minutes, basically till it's starting to burn, and then served. Sometimes avocados or hard-boiled eggs are added on top (though I was the only one who ever received those additions, so I'm guessing they're not too common).

Plantains. Another dish I had one morning was boiled plantains in a red sauce. I didn't see how it was made, but the sauce didn't have much flavor. I'm guessing another combination of oil, water, and tomato paste.

Bread with Peanut butter. Another common breakfast is bread with peanut butter. This is always served with coffee. My first day when I asked for coffee, Sonya apologized that she couldn't make coffee for me because she didn't have any bread & peanut butter. I assured her that I could have my coffee without bread and peanut butter.

Coffee. Speaking of...coffee in PaP is strong -- more like espresso than drip coffee. In the country side, it's strong and sweet. The coffee is boiled in as much sugar as water. Quite a way to start the day.

Dinner & Supper (or Lunch & Dinner)
Rice. Again, rice is the staple. Haitians grow wonderful rice. Unfortunately, "Miami Rice" (rice from the States) is cheaper, so generally you end up eating Miami rice.

Corn. The family that I live with sometimes replaces rice with corn, but it's quite the process. First, they roast a bunch of corn on the cob. Then, while they corn is still hot, they remove all the kernels and let them sit in the sun to dry. This is usually done day 1. Day 2, they grind up the corn and recook it. The result tastes, looks, and has texture similar to couscous. It's wonderful.

Beans. Most everything comes with beans in some form. I'm not sure what type they are, but they're brown. Sometimes the beans and some juice are mixed in with the rice. Sometimes a bowl of bean sauce accompanies the dish.

Legum (Vegetables). "Legum" is a large pot of vegetables. They are cooked to the point where they melt in your mouth. It's almost like a stew, but with less liquid. When you ask what kind of vegetables are in the Legum, they look at you like you're crazy and repeat, "Legum." From what I can tell, there are carrots and potatoes, but there are other vegetables in there too that give the dish a green color. I've been warned that sometimes I might find large chunks of meat in my legum. And, of course, plenty of Maggi.

Fe (Leaves). "Fe" is similar to legum, except that it's made with a variety of leaves. The main leaf is called "epinar," which means spinach, but it's a different variety than what we consume in the States. Fe also requires Maggi.

Kalalou (Okra). Another popular choice is okra cooked in its sauce. It's nothing like the okra mom makes, but is still good.

Piklis with Banan Pese. Piklis is a spicy cabbage. Think spicy coleslaw. It is served with fried plantains. mmmm....

Other dishes often include fish, konch, eggs, chicken, goat, pork, etc. As I'm sure you could guess, food in PaP varies a bit from food in Dezam in that there are more choices in PaP. With all of the food imported into Haiti, you could essentially live your whole life in PaP eating all the same foods Americans eat. Unfortunately some people do that.

Ok, enough for now. ciao.

-L

Typical Day in Dezam

Last Monday, a group of MCC volunteers, the Meat Canners, flew into PaP. Yes, they literally can meat. Apparently some years back my sister picked up on the fact that Mennonites have a history of canning meat and sending abroad. I was willing to admit that this was probably an outreach that once existed, but refused to believe that it was still done; and so it became a bit of a joke between us (or I thought it was funny anyway). Well, low and behold, meat canning is still going strong, and the 6 men who work/volunteer with the meat canner came to Haiti.

Fear not, though I have much to say regarding meat canning, I will leave that for later. I tell you about the meat canners because I spent a good portion of last week with them. We toured several locations in and around PaP, and then piled into a truck to head inland.

MCC has an office in Dezam which is located in the Artibonite Valley. If you go to MCC's website, they have a good write-up on the work that is done here; but in short, it is mostly reforestation and environmental education. Whenever new MCCers arrive, they spend a few weeks in Dezam in order to learn about the work done here, to meet the other MCC staff, and to learn Kreyol. (There are fewer people here who speak English or even French.)

So, since last Wednesday (I think...my days are all running together), I have been here in Dezam, staying with a local family. Here's a quick rundown of a typical day.

• 5am: The sun comes up and the family starts to stir. Jano, the father, head off to the rice fields where he works.
• 5am - 6/6:30am: I try to sleep.
• 6:30am: I finally get up, brush my teeth, then sit in the courtyard trying to wake up. Sonya, the mother, begins preparing breakfast.
• 7:00am: We eat breakfast.
• 7:30am: The kids & I walk over to the river to bathe.
• 7:45am: Back at the house, I sit and read or help Sonya start preparing for lunch.
• 9:45am: I walk over near to a church near the MCC office for my Kreyol lessons.
• 10am - 12noon: Kreyol lessons. (I think Sonya goes to the market while I'm at lessons.)
• 12noon: I head back to the house.
• 12:15pm - 1/1:30pm: I read or help Sonya make lunch. Jano comes home for lunch.
• 1:30pm: We eat lunch.
• 2pm: Sonya/I/someone washes dishes. Jano goes back to work (?? I'm assuming that's where he goes.)
• 2:30pm - 6:30/7pm: Somewhere in there we make another trip to the market, we go up the road to get water, we cook corn & take it off the cob, I read, we take another bath, Jano comes home sometime in there...
• 6:30/7/whenever it gets dark: The kids have a snack, usually shortly after dusk, we sit around for a bit, then we go to sleep.

So, there's a lot of sitting, and for me, a lot of nothing.

Again, sorry that was so matter-of-fact, but I hope that gives you a bit of an idea of where I am/what I'm doing right now. Tomorrow we're heading to the beach for the MCC retreat.

I'm off to lunch with the MCC team...

Lessons Learned in Week 1

1. Kreyol is an ingenious language.
Think phonetic french with only a few tenses. It's wonderful. Everything is said how it's spelled. All of the difficult French sounds are simply left off. (For those of you who took French, think back to first year when you could not yet hear all of the syllables in a word, and so you only pronounced the basic portions that were easily mimicked.) Not to say that I've mastered any part of the language, but...

2. Generosity can destroy.
Americans donate tons of food, clothing, etc. When given to the poorest of the poor, this is good. However, due to the vast amount of free products that come in to Haiti, there is no space for industry. (Think of the damage American industry has suffered due to cheap imports.) At one time, Haiti fed itself and clothed itself. Now it is dependent on others.

3. Haitians are a proud people.
They love their country. They love their culture. There is much more to be said on this, but I think it is a topic I will explore my entire time here and never fully comprehend.

4. Though much of Haiti is horribly polluted, the sea surrounding it is not.
That is, even with multiple applications of sunblock, and even if one spends all of his/her time in the water rather than on the beach, the sea does nothing to prevent sunburns.

5. In Haiti, the impossible is possible, and the possible is impossible.
I'll let you mull that one over.

-L

Basics

I know that at least a couple of you are curious about where I live, where I work, how I get from where I live to where I work, etc. So, here's a quick run-down.

MCC PaP (Port au Prince)
MCC's main office in Haiti is in PaP. There are a few North Americans in the office, and then several Haitians. The office is just off "Delmas," one of the main roads in PaP. The office doubles as the MCC PaP Guesthouse. That is, there are rooms & bathrooms where people can stay.

My House
I live with a woman named Bernadette. She is the mother of Guylene, one of the women who works in the MCC office. Bernadette has 6 children, all of whom are grown, married, and living in PaP. Guylene's son also lives with us. I'm guessing he's around 14. We share the upper floor of a 2-floor apartment. There are 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen, dining room, and balcony.

Transportation
MCC has a motorcycle, a truck, and an SUV. We share the vehicles amongst everyone. Unfortunately for me, I do not yet know how to drive manual vehicles or motorcycles. So, I take "public" transportation. Tap-taps are pick-up trucks with benches in the back and a cover. They have set routes along the main roads. People cram inside & then tap on the back glass of the cabin to let the driver know when they need to get off. Tap-taps are privately owned, but they function as a form of "public transportation." To get from my house to the MCC office, I walk to the end of the road, take a tap-tap to "karefou aeropo," take another tap-tap up Delmas, then walk a block or two to the office.

Electricity
Comes and goes. It seems like we generally have electricity a couple hours every day, but the times during which we have it vary. Sometimes it comes on in the middle of the day. Sometimes it comes on at 3am. You never really know. Most people have inverters. When the electricity comes on, it recharges the inverter, and so people have power as long as the inverter has juice. Otherwise, there are generators. Unfortunately those are expensive and so few people have them. (fyi - right now I'm at the MCC office running off the inverter)

Water
Running water is readily available as long as there is power. That being the case, I take bucket showers and pour water from a bucket into the back of the toilet to flush. Drinking water is bought. It generally comes in large containers, but smaller containers can be purchased if you want it cold.

Those are some of the basics. I feel like that was probably the most boring thing I possibly could have written, but I hope it answered a few questions.

-L

Giving In

I don't want to blog. Really, I don't. But, as I sat down to start my first "Haiti update" email, I realized that this will actually be a much simpler platform for communicating about my year here in Port au Prince.

Please don't take this as a lack of desire to communicate with any of you. I very much want to email you all regularly throughout the year. But rather than spending my precious (and limited) internet time with sending email updates (half of which many of you won't even read), perhaps I can use this blog as the platform for general Haiti stories and email for more personal communications.

So, here we go.

-L