Hold your nose and blow.

The mass quantity of garbage in this country is indescribable.  If I were to attempt to convey such a horror I would perhaps do so by explaining the grotesque way in which waste is displayed in the form of mountains bordering every street.  I would share with you the truth that when a piece of trash is placed in a trash can, at school, at home, anywhere…and that trashcan eventually becomes full, it is carried only several steps out the front door and emptied into the streets. Each discarded item piling on top of the other, as motorbikes and bare feet simultaneously trample the debris into a muddy heap of disgust. These are the pictures I would attempt to paint for you… And still this would, in fact, be a fantastic understatement! Yet the fault of this situation can in no way be handed to the people discarding of litter with any particular frequency.  The reality is the complete lack of any sort of infrastructure that could support a waste management system.  Solutions? I’m sure a little brainstorming could produce many…but for now, if you visit Haiti try to leave nothing behind.  I am doing my very best to discard of the least amount of garbage possible.  I have been here almost two weeks, and have thrown nothing away.  

The real question on everyone’s mind, I’m sure , is “Does it smell?”  -- The answer: oh does it ever!  I am quite surprised we cannot be smelled from the shore of Miami.  Those from the Dominican Republic approaching the Haitian border must, most certainly, hold their noses and gag.

That being said…it is all the other aspects of Haiti that make withstanding the squalor manageable.  Its the genuine nature of Haitian culture, and the people’s uplifting spirit that makes Haiti, toxic rubbish and all, one of the most wonderful places I’ve ever experienced. 

Come to Haiti.  Send your Money!…Just leave your garbage at home – we have enough to go around.

I could have easily chosen to attach a photo of the waste mounds here, but instead I decided to accompany this grimy post with these photos of my beautiful roommate Bail.  She is the picture of loveliness at all times.

Enjoy this little ditty from The Blow…who sadly are no more.

Hey Boy by user2355813

by The Blow

Haiti PAP peri

(Haiti Is NOT Dying)

For the past three days I’ve been working side by side with a friendly computer tech.  His English proficiency being equivalent to my kreyol, did not allow our conversations to extend much past the typical pleasantries.  Last night he ate dinner at our house…thanks to a translator, we for the first time, were able to have a semi legitimate conversation.  It was then that I was told, he, this man with whom I’d been exchanging simple greetings all week, had been trapped for 4 days under rubble in Port Au Prince after the earthquake.  His comforting smile and nervous laugh had in no way prepared me for this discovery.  The horrific disaster of January 12^th really did happen, and it happened to him, the man sitting across the table from me. He drank his own urine for days waiting for his friends, who he was able to call from his cell phone, to dig to his rescue.

We Used to Vacation by user2355813

by Cold War Kids

REAL G'S NEVER WAKE UP BEFORE NOON

The following may or may not be a true story…and this may or may not have happened to me, or someone I know.

However, rest assured…if in fact it is true, it most certainly will not happen again.

Alone in my house, tuned into the night sounds beyond my open-air window, I began to ponder the importance of having my pay-as-you-go cell phone loaded with viable minutes.  My desire to communicate with friends and family perhaps lit the initial spark, but it was for safety reasons that my phone really should be ready for action at a moments notice - I justified. As my imagination ran wild, and after a brief stand off with my minute-less cell, I caved.  Fully aware of the phone card vendors stationed in bulk just beyond my gate I made the judgment call to venture out into the night.  The brief nature of my excursion would no doubt prevent the attraction of any lurking dangers.  However, immediately upon the impulse leap from the security of my home, I of course became a magnet for all the unsupervised delinquents roaming the streets.  Very common in Haiti are the wreck-less bands of young boys prowling in the shadows, up to absolutely no good. 

“Take me to your house.” They harassed over and over.

Avoiding any remote interpretation of eye contact, I strengthened my stride.  The boys followed suit.  Almost before I’d taken another step one preteen had his hand down my pocket, seizing my keys.  A swift reaction allowed me to catch his boney wrist in my clutch, yanking the chain from his miniature fist.  However, before a feeling of victory could even remotely surface, another boy, perhaps 15, dipped his thieving hand into the opposite pocket capturing my cell phone, the original purpose for the entire mistaken endeavor.  With no second thought or even blink of an eye, before I knew it my fist was making contact with the little punk’s face.  I punched him.  To accompany the punch I release a blood-curdling scream and the boy quickly tossed me the phone as his friends ran away laughing.   Relief would have been ideal, but in reality all I was left with, besides my rightful possessions, was a racing heart.

2 Weak by user2355813

by K.Flay

The photo above is a David Choe collage hanging in my bedroom here in Haiti. More Haiti pics will be added to my photo section as they become available. Also a special thanks to the contributor of this super fly melody.   

i love you. u nice.

Tallest Man on Earth...u nice, real nice.

Do me this one favor? - love this guy, i know you will.

the BLANC from the blog

Just as a threatening but harmless dark cloud overtook the blistering heat, the classes of 2010/2011 trickled into the gated courtyard of our Universite. What the afternoon had in store would be a brief but entertaining orientation session.  Unnerved by the thought of an initial meet and greet in kreyol I postponed my entrance as long as possible. I had hoped to deliver my introduction with confidence and successfully establish myself as a respected teacher. Attempting to do so in kreyol would no doubt produce an eruption of laughter followed by jokes.  Almost all of these 350 students would be taking one of my 4 English classes, and the majority were at least my age or older.  Upon realizing my hesitation, the dean of the school encouraged me to interact en anglais!  The students were not only responsive to my American introduction, but genuinely excited.  Relief set in, and so did the confidence.  I was at ease…almost. 

Soon we were gathering under a covered pavilion and to my surprise everyone immediately flocked to sit around me, the Blanc.  As Pere Ajax, the Universite administrator, began to ramble swiftly I was once again at a complete lose with the exception of being aware that my name was being frequently interjected in his speech. As quickly as I recognized his mention of me, I noticed all eyes dart in my direction.  Repeatedly he returned to the topic of English and the Blanc teacher.  I eventually came to realize this was the reiteration of how fortunate my presences was for their university.  “There are many many English teachers in this town. They are all Haitian, but ours…Ours is from the United States.” He echoed proudly.  My lack of kreyol was a bonus in their eyes, requiring the students to, at all times, speak English with their kreyol-impaired teacher, and as a result, perfecting their conversation skills.  The students graciously welcomed me periodically throughout the afternoon, most often inquiring about my marital status.  As the orientation came to a close, I was approached one last time.  The girl was small, her frame petite, her smile enormous, and her English understandable.  She articulated that she had no explanation but upon seeing me she felt we had been long time friends.  As she spoke the words I felt it too.  Perhaps it was the lack of my having shared an English speaking interaction with another person in almost a week, or perhaps we really are destined to be zanmi.  Regardless, the comfort and excitement I received from meeting my students provided me with a burst of energy and creativity which I have been desperately craving after a week of pouring over my kreyol English dictionary! 

I hope you enjoy this Architecture In Helsinki song as I think it will be the inspiration for my next vocabulary lesson!

Scissor Paper Rock by user2355813

by Architecture In Helsinki

Low Blow

Weaving in and out of the densely populated and dangerously narrow streets of a crumbled Port Au Prince I observed the masses of meandering people coated in the white powder of cinder block rubble being churned up by the racing cars and motor bikes battling for road space. I quickly recognized the city I had visited a year prior to the quake.  People lounging at their vendor’s stand, waiting for a breeze that might never come.  Naked babies and goats roaming in heaps of garbage.  It was all the same, and yet an additional devastating factor had very evidently been added to those already in existence.  How could things possibly get worse I remember thinking a year before.  This country could go nowhere but up, I was sure.  And then, just like that, the dilapidated capital city, which yes, housed poverty, joblessness, and malnutrition but nevertheless served as some sort of foundation for this country, came crashing to the ground.

The density and range of destruction and disorder in Haiti since the earthquake of January 12th can hardly be portrayed in photograph, much less writing.  There is fallen building upon fallen building and the streets are packed with crowds of people which is typical for Haiti, especially Port Au Prince, the difference now is these people are all living in tents.  As I began my trek through PAP the magnitude of this disaster really set in…but it wasn’t until we had traveled 2 hours outside the capital city, still surrounded by tent villages for as far as the eye could see, that full on shock took hold.  An entire country of tents…its unfathomable. 

And yet, the screams of disaster have hushed.  People are no longer running in panic.  Instead, what I saw in the mist of the mountains beyond mountains of rubble were people laughing, people holding hands, people gathered around tables playing cards.   The landscape revealed tragedy but the people within the landscape depicted a type of subtle and natural strength, that has allowed an entire country to continue to function, to survive, much like it miraculously did before but now with even fewer local resources.  

The Lucky One by user2355813
by Au Revoir Simone

Bieber Fever en AYITI

Today I stumbled upon two little boys singing Justin Bieber's smash hit "Baby" feat. the one and only Ludacris, a personal favorite of mine...needless to say it made me feel right at home.  

It was so nice to hear Bieber’s silky smooth prepubescent voice in the middle of the chaos of Haiti that I was only slightly bummed when the kids did Not seem impressed as I began to sing all the words...

Rather than hitting you with a little more Bieber right now, which would be oh so appropriate, I will instead share with you a track from the new Arcade Fire album. 

 Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) by user2355813 

 by Arcade Fire from their new album “The Suburbs”

This track is seemingly relevant to my current location, but only by name.

I will follow up with a more legitimate post soon!