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
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
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
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
Friday, October 5, 2007
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
-L
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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
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
Friday, September 21, 2007
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
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.
----
Essential Kreyol for the Countryside (Those of you who know Kreyol, forgive the spelling!)
Kr:
Kr:
Kr:
Kr:
----
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."
----
Conversation of the week:
-L
----
Essential Kreyol for the Countryside (Those of you who know Kreyol, forgive the spelling!)
Kr:
"Ou mache?"Eng:
"Wi, m mache."
"Are you out for a walk?"This exchange occurs with each person you pass, whether they're out on the road, too, or in their yard.
"Yes, I'm out for a walk."
Kr:
"W'ap banye?"Eng:
"Wi, m'ap banye."
"Are you taking a bath?"This exchange occurs with each person who passes by while you bathe in the river.
"Yes, I'm taking a bath."
Kr:
"Ai! Anpil labu!"Eng:
"Wi, anpil labu."
"Wow. You're really muddy."Somehow Haitians are able to walk through mud without getting muddy. I am not.
"Yes, I'm very muddy."
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."
----
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."
----
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
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
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