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)."