March 10, 2014
Eesha Bhave
Today has been our 3rd
day in Haiti, but it certainly feels like I have been here much longer than
that. Haiti to me seems a nuanced mix of simplicity of lifestyle and complexity
in structure – of education, healthcare, gender equity and income inequality.
When we visited Carla and her friends in Gwo Jan, I thought to myself, this is
not a bad lifestyle to live – in the forest, surrounded by a loving community,
and just having a simple way of living and loving and being happy. Only when I
started conversing with the people did I begin to fathom this simple lifestyle.
Without a lot of money, and a poor education system, I can imagine myself
living a “simple lifestyle” too. This hit me even harder after talking with
some of the students at the University of Fondwa (UNIF). One of their main
question to us was “how can you help us” – maybe this was posed because they
have been seeing AU students visit Haiti with no definitive change in their
everyday world for the past 3 years now.
This question, and the reflection
that followed after has been nagging at me since we read the article “ To Hell
with Good Intentions.” What right do we have to be in Haiti and learn about the
Haitian culture if we can’t make the promise that we can make the significant
steps to reconciliation for all the mistakes we have made in the past? I think
this is a question I will continue to struggle with as we make our way through
the activities for the next 6 days. I can’t say that I will find the answer to
this ever, because the root of this problem comes from understanding and
accepting my own privilege. It is something I can only strive to do, especially
as Haiti and the Haitians have shown me so quickly. Here’s to the next few days and great
learning experiences in the loud, chaotic, hopeful, vivacious community I have
been able to spend time with in Ayiti!
P.S. My group/ leaders/ Shoshanna are awesome and I’m
thankful for them!
Anjali Mehta
If I thought yesterday was an incredible day of discussion and introspection about what our
roles as an alternative break should be … today was even more so another
day of deep reflection for the entire group. We visited APF’s center, as well
as APF’s nursery, animal clinic, and school, and met with APF’s community organizers
and a woman’s group that works towards equality of men and women through
education. So a busy day to say the least.
Though I
think we all learnt a lot about APF’s projects, the community of Fondwa,
and the future goals of community organizers in Fondwa, I think we again really
struggled with the concept of WHAT WE ACTUALLY DO that people here, in Haiti
where it matters, can see. But I do not think that is our entire goal – though
part of our goal in my opinion is to work toward facilitating the people in
Fondwa’s projects in whatever ways we can through channels such as APF, the
other part of our goal is to assist APF through advocacy and awareness back in
the States, So to me, our mission is two-fold. But at the moment, we are
focusing our entire energy on what we’re going to do back in the States. And
what about this continual question – how can you help us? I think in
focusing year after year on the “back in the States” aspect of this alternative
break, we ignore the fact that the people in Fondwa do not see the change that
results in our work in the States. So to them… what is the point of us coming
at all?
I think
this is a challenge we face, but I think is also one that has a solution.
And to me, that solution is not only create a relationship with APF through
which we can fundraise to help with financial resources but also create a LONG
TERM project/partnership in which enables knowledge exchange between Haiti and
the US in the form of teachers and students, or working with APF to deliver the
resources and/ or training involved in a project that APF has requested – like
electricity/ solar panels for the animal clinic, for example.
Though this
exchanges and resource assistance still would not really change the underlying
issue of systematic inequality, they would go a long way in BEGINNING to
facilitate a relationship in solidarity between AU and the people of Fondwa
that could continue to address over time the underlying and yet ever-present
issue of inequality.
With though
reflections, I go to bed feeling VERY positive about the learning that is
taking place and I can FEEL that we are going to make something happen. It’s
honestly because of this group, our leaders, and Shoshanna that we are even
able to delve into this really challenging issue at all!
(This
positivity may also come from the impromptu Haitian dance party that just took
place in the main classroom of UNIF with the many members of Fondwa’s
community…)
I cannot
wait for the res of this trip and hope that as a group we are continually
challenged and that we can continue to have an honest dialogue with the people
in Haiti. As Na Sonje’s play ended: “What can I do…? What can I do…? What can I
do…? WHAT CAN WE DO?”
March 12, 2014
Elyse Collat
Today was another full day in Ayiti but it took a different
form since we spent the day at a nearby beach town called Jacmel. After 4 long,
challenging, wonderful, rollercoaster days, a beach day helped us relax, see
more of Haiti, and contrast/reflect on our trip so far. As you may notice from
previous entries we’ve been battling with the issue of “what can we do” and
trying to make sure we aren’t “slum-touring” – pilling into the car this
morning with Yaya (our translator and UNIF friends gave us a change to interact
with them in a different setting (a beautiful one!) I felt more relaxed because
we were paying and enjoying Haiti and actually contributing to the tourism
economy. I noticed I felt more comfortable in the tourist setting which just
goes to show you how much I’ve learned and experienced over the last 2 months
of prep and this trip. It’s interesting to think we might be contributing more
positively to Ayiti’s development by lying on the beach than by visiting local
schools and organizations. On that note, I am extremely excited to visit
Fonkoze tomorrow because I think it will tie together the strong gender focus
of the group and my love and belief in the power of microfinance. Cannot wait!
P.S. Our group is made up (and led) by such strong,
talented, and intelligent women. I am blown away and appreciate this
opportunity to grow and learn from everyone. I know I might not have gotten the
opportunity to bond with these insanely special people outside of this trip.
THANK YOU!!! “Be kind to one another”
Molly Morabito
Today was a journey between two
sides of Haiti. We started the morning at UNIF, where we said goodbye to our
friends at the university. It was a strange feeling to say goodbye with the
knowledge that some of us might never see each other again. But it was also
filled with a promise that some of us would. Descending from the mountains of
Fondwa I was once again struck by the immense beauty of this country. One of
our group members put it best, I think, during reflection the other night: Haiti
has a kind of beauty that no amount of wealth or privilege can buy. The same
beauty applies to the people here too. The Haitians we’ve met and seen are
talented artists, keen business- people, remarkably hard workers and
intelligent, intuitive students. We have been welcomed into their homes and
lives in a way that would hard to find back home. We met a man today when we
stopped for lunch in Port-au-Prince who asked a question that allowed me to
succinctly sum up everything I’ve been feeling since arriving here. A native
New Yorker born to Haitian parents, he was in town to visit his father who had
returned and moved back to Haiti to live in a giant mansion – an interesting
first look at the disparity of wealth that exist in this country as well as
ours. The man wanted to know what we thought of the country so far. “ Are you
impressed or depressed?” he asked. To me, the answer came without me thinking:
“Both.”
Everywhere
we’ve been, I’ve seen wonderful things. Tight-knit and loving communities,
bright young people with admirable goals, and natural scenery out of a painting
or postcard. Haiti has so much potential. I’m impressed by the strength
and ingenuity of its people at the same time my heart aches for their
hardships.
Because at
the same time, he signs of poverty of this country seem so inundated and far
reaching they seem impossible to solve. I question how even I, as a westerner,
can and should do, or what my role is perceived as being here.
At the same
time, I’m inspired by the grassroots movements shown by APF and Fonkoze, whom
we met with tonight for the first time. I believe they are doing good things
for Haiti and that theirs is the type of effort that will make the most
difference here.
Right now,
I am finishing this entry in a chair by a pool, located in the beautiful
courtyard of a luxurious hotel. It’s a far cry from where I woke up this
morning, inside of a shipping crate in the rural town of Fondwa. The sharp
contrast is so perfectly indicative of the dichotomies and nuances of this
country – the beautiful and the ugly; the inspiring resilience of the people
and the crushing oppression of engrained systems; up and coming industries and
crippling poverty.
I am both
impressed and depressed by this country. And I am also hopeful for it.
P.S. to continue the trend, I am so thrilled and honored to
be a part of such a wonderful group of people who are clearly equally moved and
inspired by what we’ve seen here. I can’t wait to see what we do to continue
our efforts in Haiti when we return to AU. (I hope it’s really good.)
Xholina Nano
Haiti is a place like no other.
After reading, “The Big Truck that Went By” by Jonathon Katz I came into Haiti
expecting a lot of things, but the truth has overwhelmed me. In his book, Katz
said that all people that visit Haiti come at a crossroads. I wasn’t sure what
he meant by that then, but now at day 6 my vision is clearing a bit more to
reveal a starling question. What is my purpose here and how can I make a
difference in the lives of those I meet? As with several other entries in the
last few days, the group has to come to evaluate our roles more critically how
can we all benefit from the relationships we are setting out to create?
“Bel Bonjou se paspò ou.”
A beautiful hello is
your passport
This is one
of the Haitian proverbs Yaya from Na Sonje taught us, actually it was the
first. It was important to recognize that we are visitors to a foreign country
an that we would have to show respect to the native people by greeting them
first by saying Bonjou and smiling.
This at the time seemed the just thing to do and that it would not be that
difficult. I like to meet new people and am taught to be respectful to all so
saying this greeting didn’t seem challenging. Being at Na Sonje was a great
experience and they were used to having visitors stay with Carla, but heading
out to the market in Fondwa or driving through Port-au-Prince where people are
so close to the van you can almost hear them breath it became more difficult.
These eyes were not as used to seeing foreigners and I felt more hesitant to
draw attention. A sense of guilt overcame me. I was learning more about Haiti’s
history and America’s exploitation of the country. By the time we made it to
the beach in Jacmel I had seen enough USAID tarps and NGO buildings, but little
improvement. Though I have traveled abroad before I had never known what it
felt like to be the minority in a country, a minority that was known for
exploiting the country. I felt guilty, the sight of my white skin made me feel
uncomfortable. I was beginning to question how I could make a difference. My
day was brightened when a couple of young boys invited me to play soccer with
them. They had approached me first. This was a good feeling or me since it gave
me the opportunity to just be one of them.
Though my
white American identity is something I cannot change, and instead of being
ashamed I need to work towards solutions. Yes I might not have the same
features as them or share their burdens, but organizations such as Fonkoze is
doing great things to get women out of extreme poverty and enhancing their work
skills. Progress is out there. Now to see successful profess is vital to Haiti
and that can only be done through grassroots movements that empower the community
members.
During our
pre-dinner reflection today we read a passage from the introduction of the book
Fault Lines. The book notes that one
man’s crisis can be another man’s profit elaborating on the concept of disaster
capitalism. Personally I would take it one step further and argue that
international organizations make money out of keeping a country poor. Recently
I have even found that stating the people of Haiti are poor (or some of them)
is not the way we should be categorizing a group of people. When one describes
Haiti it is better to look within the heart of its people. Though their
circumstances might be poor, their hearts are gold and their spirituality is
uplifting. This part right here makes it difficult to describe Haiti to my
friends back home. There is just no way I can put into words the dignity of the
people here and their resilience. Friends are not just friends, and I am a
daughter of Haiti.
In my heart
forever and always, Ayiti.
P.S. Thank you all for the most meaningful experience of my
life so far. I think each evening during reflections we learn more about each
other and social justice issues. I am beginning to view the world from new eyes
and its refreshing, but challenging.
Jackie Moran
Although my time in Haiti has been
a good one, until today I was having difficulty connecting our actions on the
ground with our trip’s social justice issues. With the theme of “ Microfinance,
Healthcare, and Women as Agents of Development,” I felt today was the first day
that all (or most of) our activities were directly related to these issue
areas.
We started
our day visiting CLM client with Fonkoze. Fonkoze is a microfinance institution
working in Haiti to alleviate extreme poverty. As one of our community partners,
Fonkoze allows us to join them on their client visits, after they provide us an
overview of the organization and its mission. Of Fonkoze’s 4-Step ladder, we
were only able to visit the first and last steps – CLM and Business
Development. Each CLM client has a case manager who meets once a week with each
of its 50 clients. The CLM program is over the course of 18 months. Of the five
women we met, two had just begun the program (approximately 2 months) and the
other three women were at the middle of the program (approximately 9 months).
It was so
fascinating to see the differences between these two groups of women. The women
further along in the program had already rebuilt their homes to larger, more
stable structures. Additionally, they had their water purification in place,
their latrines were made, and their assets were flourishing. Even the women
that just started the program, you could tell they ewe confident and excited to
begin the process.
It was
clear the impact Fonkoze had, and continues to have, on their life is huge. I
final felt like I was able to see a tangible outcome. Over the course of our
trip, our group has analyzed our role in development in Haiti, and has
critically examined what we can actually do for our community partners
here. Meeting with CLM clients today was inspiring , and allowed me to stay
positive when thinking about the impact I can make as an individual.
The rest of
our day was filled with more hikes to Fonkoze clients and partners such as
Xafem—an organization just recently partnered with Fonkoze. We even had the
opportunity to briefly visit the Partners in Health hospital in Mirebalais. The
facility was beautiful, and definitely at the forefront of healthcare for
Haiti. Overall, it was a hectic but rewarding day. This time in Haiti has been
a difficult but necessary experience. I am so grateful I was able to come here
to Haiti with such a fantastic group of women – their courage, passion, and
intelligence gives me hope.
Jen Thelus
This trip has been an eye-opening
experience. Throughout the trip one thing has always stuck out to me and made
me question everything about my identity. Who am I actually and what is my
purpose on this trip? I was brought up in a Haitian household… but on American
soil. There is a lot of privilege that comes with that and this trip made it
very apparent.
On Saturday we visited a festival
that would change me. Traveling with a diverse group comprised of white
Americans, I knew we would draw attention and I was prepared for the stares and
“blan” remarks. I never expected to be marginalized by people who I considered
my own. We were approached by two dark-skinned Haitians, one with a camera the
other with a microphone. They approached Carla and asked if they could speak
with us. As the only student who could speak, I was appointed to speak on
behalf of the group. Reluctantly, I approached the two men. I noticed from
their body language that I was not what they wanted. They wanted a white
American, someone who looked like a typical “blan.” I was upset and explained
to them that I was American because I had been born in the States but they
said, “ no I wasn’t an American.” I then asked if they wanted a white person.
The guy with the microphone waited no sooner than when I finished my last word
to blurt out, “yes.” The guy with the camera was a bit hesitant and attempted
to sugarcoat his answer, saying that he wanted the opinion of someone who could
visibly be classified as American. So I communicated this back to the group
saying they wanted someone white. There was some back and forth but by this
time had been done.
My sense of identity had been
destroyed. I was now destined to a life of living on the margin of the
societies of Haiti and America. The color of my skin would always dictate the
interactions, relationships, and obstacles that would come and go in my life.
In America, I would never truly be American because of our history, even though
the civil right movement was deemed successful. There are many instances of
institutional racism. Racism in the U.S. many may argue is not present, but I
disagree. For example, when I tell people I want to be a doctor I’m often
greeted with surprise. In the U.S. racism is very much alive, it has just
learned to blend into the background and become much more subtle. In Haiti, it
is essentially the same and more. In Haiti, you are not only favored if your
skin is lighter, but also the kind of passport you have determines your status.
For example, if you have a job in Haiti as a contractor, you will get paid
substantially less than if you had an American passport.
If I can never fully be accepted
into a society, how am I supposed to be a tool to be used to facilitate change
in any capacity? I realize that my struggle is no different, but for me it’s
new. Throughout the trip we discussed the issue of “What’s next?” At first, I
thought I had a concrete answer: come back to the States, advocate on behalf of
Haiti, and work with our community partners to keep the relationship going strong
and be in a position to build lasting relationships. I felt obligated to help
“my people,” and I thought it would be well received. Now, I don’t know. I feel
that to a certain extent I am no different from the U.S. as a government that
flooded Haiti with military personnel designed to prevent a violence that
didn’t exist.
I accept the duty of helping my
country even if I’m met with resistance, I’ll just have to wade through the
waters of my identity during the process.
P.S. I’m glad to have had an amazing group of supportive and
inquisitive individuals.
Fito Akinrinade
Today I
woke up in Miami. Miami is one of the richest, most beautiful cities in the
United States. Spending the day in Miami worked an interesting juxtaposition to
the nights I had spent in Haiti. It is not that Haiti was not beautiful, but
rather that its beauty goes beyond the surface of the country.
The entire
experience was much different than I expected. Despite pre-trip training, and
the little I had known about Haiti beforehand, I still was not expecting it to
be as poor as it was. Haiti is poor and there is no getting around that. But
for some reason I thought I could. Or rather, I thought I would not have to.
There are poor cities and neighborhoods in the United States, but it is possible
to avoid these places. All of the U.S. is not poor. It was almost unimaginable
to see that almost all of Haiti is.
Because of
the poverty, Haiti has been disenfranchised. Global “powers” have exploited
Haiti for its resources. This has caused me to question the role that I have
played in this exploitation. However, fortunately, or unfortunately for me on
this trip, Haitians value their identity.
I witnessed
first hand how important identity was several times. On more than one occasion,
I was “harassed” for not speaking Creole. As Jen explained to me, these
Haitians were upset because they thought I believed that since I spoke English,
I was better than them. This absolutely was not the case, but in their eyes, I
was not embracing my identity.
This
excerpt sheds light on two things. Number one, identity is important. It is
what fosters the communal lifestyle that I witnessed during my story. During
one of our reflections, one of the guests at the Wozo Plaza Hotel shared how
she has witnessed that some of the poorest Haitian women are supported by other
poor Haitian women. These women will go to their family and then take what is
left to women who are considered “poorer” than them. This was powerful to me.
But, in a society so dependent on relationships, everyone is a brother and a
sister. They have to take care of each other because no one else will. The US
certainly has not; they force Haiti to buy imported products from them. France
will not; Haiti was paying them reparations until the earthquake in 2010. The
UN will not; UN soldiers just “hang around” round-about or spend days at the
beach (a generalization, but I witnessed both of these behaviors during my
visit). If no one will fight for Haiti, Haitians fight for themselves. The
fastest way for an outsider to be accepted is with one simple phrase, “bonjou.”
It’s like opening a door.
The second
element that my excerpt shed light on was that Haitians hold their identity
close, but as a result they misread the identities of outsiders. The story that
Jen shared is just one example. In regards to me, it shows that they don’t know
any better. They are not exposed to many other black people. Although I was in
a group with white and even Indian students, it never crossed my mind that I
could be black, American, West Indian, or Caribbean. To them, I was not black –
I was Haitian. Jen was not American – she was Haitian.
These
interactions were just a few of things I experienced while on my trip. I would
have to sum up the trip by saying I am confused. I am confused about the
impact (if any) that I have made. I am
confused about what more can be done by groups such as us to help. What I am
not confused about is the frustration that some of the people we met were
feeling. Essentially, they keep seeing us, but no progress. I understand this
frustration and carried this burden as my own the entire trip. I am not quite
sure what to do with it yet. I am not sure what I can do with it.
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