Subtle Changes

When I informed friends and family that I would be going on an alternative break trip to Haiti, they could not believe it. A lot of them swore that I would come back a different person. 

Today I can announce that those people were somewhat right. I did not become someone who was extremely eco-friendly or obsessed with reducing my carbon footprint. This trip did teach me more about the effects hat my lifestyle has on other countries. It also changed my perspective on what the word help means.

So it is not me who changed per say, but rather my outlook. This shift in my outlook will lead to other changed in my life such as using less electricity or being more environmentally friendly in general.  

Describing the indescribable

Statue of Neg Mawon - Credit: Sarah Palazzolo

It's hard to believe that a mere 48 hours has passed since I was in Haiti.

The transition between that country and my own has been surreal, to say the least. To abruptly go from such a powerful emotional and social experience back to the regular routines of daily life was a little harder than I anticipated. I was only partially present as I sat through my classes, caught up with friends and went through the other motions of a typical Tuesday. Part of me was still in Haiti.

I've been struggling with the best way to put the experience into words. At first I was hesitant to try, because I know that no matter how eloquently I describe it I still won't be doing it justice. But I come from a family of writers and I've been taught that the best way to process and understand something is to write it out. So here's my best shot.

I thought I understood what poverty looked like. I thought I understood global systems of oppression, social inequality, and the consequences of broken government structures. These things have been clearly articulated to me in my college and high school classes and as a student at a liberal university with a school that's literally named for international service, I know theories about international development better than my own alma mater. I have been challenged several times throughout my academic experience to uncover and accept the inherent privileges that my skin tone, socio-economic status and nationality have allowed me.

But nothing impacted my conception of these issues the way this experience did. To actually see the things I had only ever read about or discussed in class - to actively observe and question and reflect - profoundly challenged and changed my perspective.

I was struck by how lucky I am for the opportunities I've been afforded, how grateful I should be for the life I've led. Spending a few days with a hole in the ground as my only bathroom has made me inordinately excited about flushing toilets and indoor plumbing. Hearing one man's nightmare story about a painful ambulance ride down a mountain with no paved roads has made me feel foolish for ever having complained about a bi-annual doctor's check-up. Learning about the incredible obstacles that stand in the way of Haitian youth and a good education and the hard work and ingenuity of those individuals who have managed to get theirs has doubled my appreciation for the education I was given. It's inspired me to someday use it as a means by which to combat the institutions that have created such unfairness.

At the end of my time in Haiti, I was exhausted. I had been challenged physically, emotionally and intellectually. But I was also invigorated. I am in awe of the individuals I met there. I am excited by the successes of the grassroots organizations we partnered with, which I have now seen with my own eyes. I am outraged by the blatant disparity, by the UN workers who patrol peaceful towns in armored vehicles, and by every bag of rice or sugar - two of Haiti's staple crops that should be produced and sold by them - stamped with the logo "Made in the USA". And I am touched and moved by the strength, intelligence, kindness, rebelliousness and hospitality of the people.

Haiti can break your heart and make it swell with happiness within the same moment. It makes you want to turn your head and look away and it makes you stare in rapture. It cannot be condensed to fit neatly into a New York Times op-ed. Images and footage of it looks good on television, but it doesn't show you very much at all. The history and theory I've learned in my classes don't come close to explaining it, no matter how convincing the professor made it sound at the time. And if Pulitzer Prize winners, famous news anchors and academic scholars don't get it right, I'm not sure if I'll do much better. All I can say for certain is that Haiti is a country that gets its hooks into you, whether you want it to or not. And it filled me with hope - even though most of the narratives told about it suggested that hope was the last thing I would find.

I came to Haiti searching for a way that I could help. But now I don't think help is really what Haiti needs, at least in the way help has traditionally been understood. Instead, I think Haiti needs understanding. It needs a new narrative. As one of our hosts told us on the day before our departure, my peers and I were given the chance to see that the "myth of Haiti" is not true. She thanked us for coming to search for what was. And when I asked, perhaps naively, what we were supposed to do with that knowledge, she suggested that we take our experience as a reminder to question our concepts of different people and places, especially those that are depicted badly - and that the next time we face certain stereotypes, we remember Haiti.

I don't think that Haiti is done with me yet. But for now, I'm going to try to live by those parting words. And I hope that from here on out, no matter what misconceptions I'm tempted to fall under, I will always remember Haiti.

"Fatal Assistance" makes U.S. revaluate

One day before our departure and Haiti has been on my mind for the last two weeks. The new sights, people and culture will be rewarding, but the most important part will be learning about the every-day lives of the Haitian people. Haiti has not lost its international appeal since the 2010 earthquake, but we are learning more and more everyday about the truth of the relief effort; its success and setbacks.

Haitian filmmaker Raoul Peck’s new film “Fatal Assistance” provides a look into the international aid efforts, highlighting areas of needed improvement. This film has been reviewed positively by the Huffington Post and New York Times, praising the director’s perspective and new insights on the international aid efforts. Peck received an international welcoming and recognition for his film which debuted last year in February at the Berlin film festival. This contrasting perspective builds upon the the experiences and critiques of Jonathan Katz in his book The Big Truck That Went By.

I think that Katz would agree with Peck, they both point out that international aid in Haiti had good intentions, but billions of promised dollars later Haiti is not reaping in the results such investment is expected to provide. Little of the pledges even made it to Haiti, and the method used to put aid plans into action involved little say from the people of Haiti. Organizations, governments and international corporations across the world pledged help, making it a hotspot for humanitarian celebrities including Sean Penn, Bill Clinton, and Angelina Jolie among others. Not to mention the volunteers, journalists and religious groups. We have come to learn that though they made personal sacrifices, not much of their hopes for Haiti came into fruition.

Katz called Haiti a Republic of NGOs because of the number of  nongovernmental organizations working in Haiti pre and post 2010 earthquake. However, little efforts have been made to see that the people have a say in their own futures. How can a country rebuild if the people of that country are not a part of the rebuilding effort? What is needed is the involvement of the Haitian government, community leaders and people in steering the destiny of their own country. The way to turn a bleak political situation into a movement of empowerment for citizens is through participation. This is one of the reasons why I am excited to be working with the Association of the Peasants of Fondwa, where Haitians make the decisions and difference.   

Haiti has remained a victim of our prejudice, and continues to be. The international community has miscalculated and misused their funds and power to push an assumed agenda. Four years after the disaster, and slowly Haiti is crawling back up to its feet. Newspapers continue to run editorials, the United Nations continue to file new action plans, again new promises are made, but we have already seen the results of promises. So why go to Haiti now?

A group of ten volunteers - students and staff from American University - on a mission to learn from those that know best, the people of Haiti. Though our efforts during our eight day trip will not be as extensive as we all wish, it will provide us a starting point that can only grow in the direction of increased awareness and activism. During our trip we will ask ourselves; how can we redirect our focus and that of our peers back to Haiti in a manner that will empower the local population and lead towards stable and sustainable growth?  Hopefully we will have an answer upon our return.

Link to video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGPbqO5ocrE

Haiti 2014

Less than a week left till the group and I leave for Haiti. We are all super excited and ready! For the past few months, we have spent our Saturdays learning about the issues surrounding the theme of our trip, Microfinance, Healthcare, & Women as Agents of Development. We have talked about things ranging from the role of international aid agencies in countries, such as Haiti, to understanding our own personal privileges.  I believe that we have come to a consensus that this trip will not make us suddenly humanitarians, but rather it is a step in the direction of allowing us to become active global citizens. From this trip, personally I hope to build connections with some of the individuals we will meet and from there provide assistance in any way I can once we are back in the states.

During the trip, we hope to avoid becoming voluntourist during our trip and focus on learning more about the different topics we talked about during our pre-trip trainings. By physically being in Haiti, we will be able to put the different things we have learned from the readings we have done, specifically Jonathon Katz’s book entitled, The Big Truck That Went By: How the World Came to Save Haiti and Left behind a Disaster, the presentations of our peers, and the conversation fostered around the issues of our theme into a tangible form by interacting with the very people we have been learning about. Upon our return, I hope to continue the relationships we build and become proxies for change in Haiti.

Pop Culture and Post-Earthquake Haiti

For my entire life, music has been a central theme—from having grandparents that like to sing to being a dancer myself, I have understood the importance of music and pop culture in my life. Today, after reading more of Jonathan Katz’s book, The Big Truck That Went By: How the World Came to Save Haiti and Left behind a Disaster, I was able to understand the importance of music in the post-earthquake Haitian context.

The section that we read for this pre-trip training looked at various elements of the disaster relief, including land tenure and gender-based violence, but what struck out to me the most was the impact that music had. Young people in Haiti would sing and rap about looking forward as a nation, urging the citizens to “stop marching under the orders of the blan [foreigners]”. This showed me that music was used as a form of political expression, especially for youth, which is one of the most important demographics to consider when rebuilding political stability.

Michael Martelly

Another important musical movement in Haiti at the time was kompa music, led by a man named Michael Martelly, but commonly known as Sweet Micky. Katz described this music as “the love child of merengue, funk and R&B” that was popular for older crowds. His message in his singing was political too—claiming “if you don’t like it, get out of here!” This is a sharp contrast to what the youth were expressing through their rap—the youth had a more positive call to action, while Martelly’s lyrics explained the futility of even trying to escape. This sentiment was furthered when Martelly decided to run for president—knowing he cannot run away, and that the only hope for change was assuming a position of authority.

Wyclef Jean

The last artist introduced in this section of the pre-trip training was Wyclef Jean—a Haitian artist who moved to America and built up his music career there. He came back to Haiti after the earthquake to run for president. As a prominent Haitian in America, he was named Haiti’s ambassador to the US in 2004, and then continued building his diplomatic/political power. His music, much of which talked about Haiti, along with his high visibility status was an example of how the Haitians at the time were looking for a change from the current political parties at play.

Each instance of introducing music and its deeper meaning helped me uncover another aspect of Haitian culture and beliefs. This section of reading reinforced the emphasis I put on music in my life, and helped me appreciate from a different perspective. And now, I can’t wait to go to Haiti soon and listen to live kompa music, because it sounds like a lot of fun!

Open Eyes, Open Minds

On Tuesday, our AltBreak group had the opportunity to meet Dr. Paul Farmer; after shaking his hand at a pre-reception we listened to him speak about Global Health Equity, Haiti post-earthquake, and AIDs treatments around the world. All of us were nervous and excited to meet this public health superstar, the poster child for dedication, commitment, and the war on infectious disease. But I have a confession:

3 months ago, I had no idea who Paul Farmer was.

Over winter break I started reading a couple books to enlighten myself on Haiti and this was the first time I had heard about Paul Farmer. Like I mentioned in my previous blog post, one of the books I read was by Paul Farmer and the other was about Paul Farmer. From reading about him (and Haiti) I have learned an immense amount about the history of disease, politics, and disaster within Haiti. I've learned about Paul Farmers life and his work in Haiti and around the world. I've learned about the WHO and U.N. and their influences in global health issues as well as their role Haiti's earthquake relief effort. After reading about all of this, I was SO excited to hear Paul Farmer himself speak. I think he is an amazing example of a human being and an incredibly intelligent and driven man. Paul Farmer is the kind of person that makes me feel like there is true good in the world-- he stresses the necessity of a local voice in public policy (ie. Haitian people explaining what they need and want in their country politically, economically, etc.) He works to correct the "chronic" AND "acute" issues that we see so deeply rooted in our society and impoverished societies like Haiti.

If you can't tell, now I love Paul Farmer and keep him as inspiration in the back of my head. But I felt a little awkward that other members of the group had known and respected Paul Farmer for so much longer than I had. I felt uninformed and ignorant for not knowing that such issues existed and that such a great man and his entourage were doing great work to combat these problems. I recognize that there are many large issues ravaging all types of societies in every corner of the world. I also realize that I am young and can't know about everything that's going on in the world. But I feel so much more aware now that I have learned so much about Haiti, the WHO & U.N., large global health issues, foreign aid policies, and all the interconnected issues that these things affect.

This meta-reflection leads me to a conclusion that reconfirms one of my fundamental beliefs: knowledge is the answer. In order to help people, to make the world a better place, or at least to avoid causing accidental pain or suffering, it is important to learn, to educate ourselves. We will never be done learning but the more we learn, the better work we can do. As we saw in our last chapter of "The Big Truck That Went By" the foreign aid that came in after the earthquake in Haiti actually caused a great deal of damage and has still not created a significant amount of good. I feel like my eyes have been opened to these whole new part of the world, and this whole new set of interconnected issues. I feel like this knowledge helps me to exercise and open my mind. Ultimately, open minds are able to see a wide variety of solutions, consider multiple outcomes, and apply previous knowledge to avoid re-creating devastating issues in order to achieve will progress and development within the world.

Flawed System of Aid

What strikes me the most about the issue of foreign aid and disaster relief is the amount of discretion taken before a nation or body decides to react. In the presentations last week, a diagram which gave a visual representation of the amount of money given to relief after Hurricane Katrina, the Haiti earthquake, September 11th, the Asian tsunami and the Japan earthquake/tsunami.

Of all of the disasters, Hurricane Katrina received the most aid in the first seven days. This is unsettling because the United States is one of the richest countries in the world, however, monetary support came in waves (no pun intended). Juxtaposition that with the aid that was sent to Haiti in the first 7 days. Sure Haiti ranks number two on the list of receiving aid, but if one actually takes a look at the monetary values, what he or she will notice is that Hurricane Katrina received almost twice as much aid as Haiti. Haiti is much poorer than the United States. Haiti does not have the resources with its country necessary to combat such an event as the United States does.

In my personal belief, the apprehension to donate is political. The United States has certain allies. Because of this, it is in their interest to provide the US with money in order to secure their relationship. As far as Haiti, because the country is very poor and even corrupt, its number of allies is very small and so they did not receive as much relief as they could have in those first few days.

Although I have tried to compare the United States and Haiti, the article's focus is on the dismal amount of foreign aid that Japan received. I feel that it is important to hone in on this issue as well. The earthquake was a 9 on the Richter scale, whereas Haiti was a 7. The earthquake in Japan was more powerful than that in Haiti, yet the amount of aid doled out was not proportional to the disaster. The only justification that I can produce for this amount of disparity is the fact that because Haiti is far poorer than Japan, the country was devastated more. The country was also less prepared for such an event. For this reason, countries that provided aid knew that Haiti needed it more. Unfortunately, this points to systematic issues in our society which stem from imperialism.

Cherche Lavi: Seeking life amidst the aftershocks

Those who were lucky enough to escape the earthquake alive were unfortunate enough to live in a Haiti where Cherche Lavi - seeking life, making a living - was nearly impossible. Those who had anything left sold and bartered on the streets, those without homes took land and the promises of reconstruction rarely came to fruition. 

When one reads of the tragedy Haiti experienced after the 2010 earthquake, it’s difficult not to get emotionally drawn and sympathize with those that lost so much that devastating day.  I was one of those who picked up my cell phone and texted in my contribution with hopes that I would be making a difference. That’s what they promised. Multiple NGOs made steep promises to the people of Haiti that became too difficult to administer. I was a believer; we all were at one point because having something to believe in was better than having nothing. People poured their hearts out and opened their wallets to NGO’s that were making these promises. World governments reacted with their own pledges and programs. There is no way Haiti was not going to bounce back after billions were pledged. Now, four years later, and I wonder if my small contribution of $20 made a difference in someone’s life and if those pledges ever made their way to Haiti. I became skeptical and found that the message I was getting at home was not the same that the people of Haiti were experiencing.

I have yet to set foot in the country, but it has already become a great part of my life and brought me to crossroads of my own. Jonathan Katz in his book, The Big Truck that Went By, regards Haiti as a place of crossroads; it is where he found a calling for himself and presents the idea that all those who visit Haiti are in turn presented with a crossroads of their own. Even President Clinton was not immune. The story goes, according to Katz, that while on his honeymoon in Haiti, Clinton was unsure about his political career especially after just experiencing electoral defeat. It is unsure what exactly about the country influenced his decision, but he credits his time in Haiti as the main reason for his race for state attorney general upon his return to the States.  A race that he ended up winning and one that launched his political career. I expect that Haiti will give me many more challenges as I get closer to entering the country and once I am there.

I can see this crossroad on the horizon and sense that I am coming upon it, what i once knew about aid disbursement has turned completely upside down in my preparing to go to Haiti. While NGO’s fought over which program would give them the best profit and governments  pushed their own agendas forward, the people on the essentially diseased soil of Haiti continued attempting to cherche lavi, seeking life. The pre-departure sessions have opened my eyes, giving me a different point of view than the one most Americans are fed by the media. There is a lack of understanding, knowledge and commitment in the public and media organizations.  This has led to an assumption by most Americans that their donations went directly to the Haitians, but the Haitians had no influence over drafting USAID projects or in the types of materials that were donated. Americans saw the state of Haiti on the news months after, led to the assumption that Haitians are unable to rebuild and sent what they could or thought would be most useful without asking what they needed. This has been an important realization for me. A contribution is usually considered a mindless act where one simply sends their money and it is taken care of.  I have learned that a contribution is not a simple text message, it should be a commitment to engage in a dialogue with those we are seeking to help.

Preparing to Feel Unprepared

Since I found out I was selected for this trip, I have been trying to read up on Haiti. I ordered "Mountains Beyond Mountains," written about Paul Farmer and his medicinal work in Haiti for the last 40 years, and "Haiti After the Earthquake"-- written by  Paul Farmer to address the pre and post-earthquake situations in Haiti. From these books I hoped to gain a image and understanding of Haiti to prepare myself for the trip. When we began our pre-trip meeting last week, I received a third book called "The Big Truck That Went By" which details the earthquake and subsequent events from the viewpoint of journalist Jonathon Katz. Each of these books brings a different perspective; coupled with the pre-trip meetings and discussions, I feel like I'm learning a great deal about Haitian, history, culture, and life.

However, when I was reading "The Big Truck" something hit me. I don't remember what was written or what image I imagined that caused this mini transformation but for an instant, the Haitian earthquake scenario became very, very real for me, instead of just words on a page. I remember putting myself into Haiti and imagining if Haiti was my whole world. If I only knew one place and it had just been catastrophically destroyed, how would that feel? What would my world view be? I have gotten the opportunity to do a great deal of travel so I'd like to think that I have a more extensive world view, one that I take every chance to expand. But I've realized through reading and talking with my group members that it is hard to separate myself from these experiences and imagine a world where people have not seen the U.S. or other parts of the world or to imagine what its like to live on $1 or less a day. 

This mini episode lasted only a second but it made me feel like no amount of reading or discussing will prepare me for what I'm going to see, feel, think, or hear in Haiti. I am nervous, excited, and very curious to go. I'm wary about being a "slum-tourist" or "good-intentioned volunteer" but I am eager to learn and help if I can. I'll be continuing my reading and discussing, preparation is important. But I am also acutely aware that no matter how many books I read, nothing can fully prepare me for this new experience. 

Unpacking Our Identities-- and Our Privileges

We had our first pre-trip training of the semester, and we certainly dove into it. The first activity that we did as a group was identifying and discussing our identities. Along with this discussion, naturally, came the discussion of privilege. This is a tricky subject to talk about, because it comes in different forms for everyone, and we don't all want to see it for what it is. I was able to have an open and honest discussion with the rest of my alternative group members and leaders about the privileges that we have. More importantly, we were able to discuss the outward perceptions of these privileges and the stereotypes that we carry with us. I appreciated this discussion because it set the tone for the rest of the training of the semester. Once we are able to dissect and analyze our identities, we can begin to see the identities of those around us, and become more perspective and compassionate.

The second part of our discussion related to the issue of privilege. We read about the current dialogue of activist trips that frequently turn into a phenomena known as 'poverty tourism', or 'slum dog tourism'. This refers to the idea that affluent people will come to underprivileged areas in the world, fuel the economy on a short term basis, and go back to their cocoon of affluent homes, back to their affluent lives, never making a positive impact in the community. To complement this topic, we read a short article by Ivan Illich, titled "To Hell with Good Intentions". The article discouraged all forms of so-called activism, because they played up the privilege of those who could travel but did not really make a difference. This was a new perspective, and made me questions how effective alternative breaks truly were for personal growth. After discussing it with the group, we decided that the main takeaway from this perspective was that we should let the Haiti trip be the spark that promotes us to work for a better future for all. The trip should not be one that turns into 'poverty tourism'-- and it is on every one of our shoulders to make sure that is not the case.

As I go into the rest of the pre-trip training sessions and the trip, the issues that we explored in this pre-trip training will certainly stick with me. I know that I need to approach this trip as a "learner", the way that Kent Annan describes in his article, "Poverty Tourism Can Make Us Thankful Sojourners". I know that I need to approach this incredible opportunity with the willingness to be extremely uncomfortable at times. The key is to be able to bring these feelings back with me to fuel the fire behind my mission to sustain positive change. This trip cannot simply be one where I come back and compartmentalize my experience and let it be. Visiting Haiti and learning should only be the very start, and I am excited to see what the future holds!

The Big Truck that Went By

Since September, Kelly & I have joined other Haiti Compact student leaders from six universities around the country on weekly conference calls to share challenges, successes, resources, and best practices for leading alternative break trips to Haiti. One of the main goals of the Compact is to facilitate collaboration between students as part of a larger process of movement building. Joined by our faculty and staff advisors, past student leaders and trip participants, we counter prevailing attitudes about (under)development in Haiti simply by asking questions that prioritize sustainability, ethics, and human dignity.

And so, thanks to the Compact's connections and hard work, Jonathan Katz joined our call a few weeks ago. Incredibly personable and honest, Katz is a journalist who traced the post-quake cholera epidemic to UN peacekeepers and wrote a definitive book on the shortcomings and politics of foreign aid in Haiti: The Big Truck That Went By: How the World Came to Save Haiti and Left Behind a Disaster. On our conference call, we asked him about his experience with education reform in Haiti, environmental challenges, local governance, food security, and the context of foreign aid.

Because it seems self-evident that the international system should protect the most vulnerable, especially in natural disasters, sometimes it becomes difficult to admit failure. The first time that I fundamentally questioned the idea of “foreign aid” was through alternative breaks. Our trips have a tendency to challenge the foundations of students’ assumptions about the world, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed or burnt out. As an alternative break leader, I know this all too well.

Katz put it well: the important thing, he explained, is to harness those good intentions wisely. There are things we can do to assist, but money and power also need to be turned inward, to re-examine the consequences of our actions. Doing something is not always better than doing nothing, contrary to popular belief. But that doesn’t mean that nothing should be done. It means that supporters can re-direct our efforts in more productive ways:

“The issue is less with some organizations having more know-how than others; it’s that the whole system needs to be overhauled – and not just when it comes to aid. Poverty and a lack of local institutions create the shoddy conditions that make disasters deadlier than they have to be. […] Supporting efforts to give to aid directly to local governments, and the goal of building local institutions that operate independently of foreign control, will go exponentially farther than cargo planes full of tarps and bottled water.

It’s true that we don’t always know what locals will do with that assistance, but that’s the point. It’s up to them (Katz 278)."