Getting ready

I'm having my last day at the office. I am full of mixed emotions. I will miss my colleagues so much! I will also miss being in the middle of the busy work of guarding human rights here. But at the same time I'm longing for more freedom to move, colder weather, certain food, and loved ones of course.

We made it through hurricane Tomas with less damage than expected - thank God! I ended up going to the training in Arcahaie on the Saturday, and had a great time. I got adopted by a group of women who thought I was funny. They spoke slowly to me in Creole, made me part of their sassy little gang, and brushed my reddish blonde hair with great excitement and fascination.
I did end up sick one more time, but thankfully not as bad as the last time. It gave me the experience of being cared for by beautiful haitian nuns though; yet another fun fact to add to my CV.. I also talked to two cute little girls with big smiles who lived next to the training center. They stroked my arms, very fascinated by my skin. In both cases I was very happy to be able to speak some Creole.

After the training there has been some slow days, where I've felt like I've pretty much counted the days until departure. I have spent my time on research for the coming thesis I will write in the spring, talking to colleagues - learning as much as I can these last days.
Today I have finished up my evaluation. I have payed my bills.
Now I have two small goodbye parties to look forward to. Then I will do my last bit of packing and prepare for lift off.

I am very greatful for my time here, and I will attempt a more extensive summary and wrap-up some other day, when my mind has taken it all in a bit better.

On another note, the cholera is taking hold of this country more and more, and people are getting a bit scared, and also angry. It has been proven that the strain of cholera came into the country with a troop of nepalese UN-soldiers; the disease has actually never appeared in this country before. So you can only imagine what kind of emotions this information awakens towards a UN-operation already called "occupation" here.
That together with the elections getting closer and closer calls for a bit more insecure environment here. I hope it won't get worse.

Writing my evaluation has shown to me how much I have learned here. It has been really tough - most of the time actually - and yet I feel like what I take with me are only good memories.
As I said, I will try to put into words something more comprehensive and thought-through on my stay here. I hope to also get some pictures online soon.
In the meantime I will leave tomorrow afternoon, and I will have a weekend in Chicago before landing in Stockholm on Monday night.

Take care, and I'll see many of you soon!
/L

This occupies my mind right now

"The incapacitation of Haiti" (article)

"'The media coverage of the earthquake is marked by an almost complete divorce of the disaster from the social and political history of Haiti,' Canadian Haiti Solidarity Activist Yves Engler said in an interview. 'They repeatedly state that the government was completely unprepared to deal with the crisis. This is true. But they left out why.'"

It all connects to the history of foreign intervention in Haiti which has stripped haitians of their right to self-determination.
Here is a longer piece on that.
It is interesting and sad reading.

Otherwise the city is sort of holding it's breath to see how hard the storms will hit. School is out until Monday. The last news I heard though was that Tomas would pass right in between Cuba and Haiti, which would mean less damage. But we've post-poned leaving for the training. Maybe tomorrow, but right now the situation is just too insecure, since there's nothing to know for sure about hurricanes. It could pick up speed, or it could decline. We'll see. And I'll keep you posted.

/L

Tomas among others

Tomorrow afternoon (Thursday) I will leave Port-au-Prince to go to Arcahaie , a small town right by the water up north. It is to take part in one of the trainings in human rigths that RNDDH carries out. I'll be away until Tuesday, and I won't have access to internet - in case anyone tries to contact me - but my cellphone should still work.

I think it will be interesting. It will be fun to see a new part of the country. I'm longing to see the sea, and I hear it is really beautiful there. I also think it will be an excellent opportunity to work on my creole further. But I'm sure it will be a bit tough also, as always when there's only a language I barely speak to use..

And there's also the threat of hurricane Tomas. We'll see tomorrow if we'll leave at all. But I just checked the latest news and it seems like it will pass over Haiti without upgrading from a tropical storm to an actual hurricane, so I think we'll be alright. But as always the people in the camps, as well as the poorer people in the countryside, will be greatly affected, so send them a thought or a prayer if you want.

Besides that I would love to share with you two things that brings me great amusement in this country:

1. The fact that a majority of stores here have 'christian' names. Like 'Son of God Dry Cleaning' or 'Christ is Capable Groceries'. It just cracks me up.

2. The water trucks. They play tunes, similar to the ice cream truck back home. Here there are three to choose from:
- "Ole Ole Ole Ole, we are the champions"
- "We wish you a merry christmas"
or my personal favorite
- "My heart will go on"

And I LOVE the evenings here. I try to really enjoy them, as I will miss them when I go back to the cold and dark. I sit on the balcony in the hammock. I watch the stars. And the lights on the mountainside. Often there's a bonfire on the hill straight ahead. Sometimes there's singing and drumming. Especially these past days when they've been celebrating 'fete Guede'. There's a breeze in the palm tree. And there's no need for a sweater.
I sit out there and think. I love having just the sky above me.

One last thing.
I decided a while ago to go back home a bit earlier. So I'll be leaving already on the 17th for Chicago, and I'll land in Sweden on the 22nd. I am very happy with my decision. I've loved it here. But the difficulty of the social life, the non-specific tasks at work, and the miles between me and my loved one has really been tough on me. I didn't see that coming! I thought the poverty and the culture shock would be it, but no.. I feel good though. I've learned so much and I'm ready to take it home.
And after last week with the swedish delegation, I got invited to attend the meeting they'll be having on the report that's coming out. The meeting is in Stockholm the very week I get back. So it feels like good timing.

Now take care Y'all!
And Happy Birthday tomorrow Gustav!

/L

exhausted/excited, discouraged/encouraged

I've been terrible at updating this blog. I'm sorry. It was to be expected though, it tends to always happen to me a while into something new. You just get into this rythm of things and all of a sudden all this time passed and you don't know what happened.

This has been an exhausting yet exciting week. I've had the opportunity to come along and observe as a Swedish delegation have been here and had a series of meetings regarding the rights of women. We've met with some ministers and UN people, as well as international and local NGO's. It has both discouraged and encouraged me.

I'm discouraged because time and time again I see how the international community totally overrides the sovereignty of Haiti. In my eyes this is THEIR country, and I am but a humble visitor - regardless of how malfunctioning the state is. There are great people here, and above all there are amazing and capable NGO's that have a vision for their own country. But it is very common to hear from international NGO's, as well as the UN, things like "there are no competent local NGO's". So they simply choose not to cooperate with anything local for that reason. Which is a complete BS reason to be frank.

What does encourage me though are those local NGO's that we have met with this week, as well as the one I'm working for, of course. Organizations that are so strong and inventive. We mostly met with women's organizations, and I am so inspired!
They are so strong and intelligent. They do great work, and it was a real honor to be able to sit down and listen to them. Life here is hard, and for women it is even harder. But the work that these organizations carry out give me hope for change. If we could just support them! (I'm inviting you to contribute here...)

The week before that... Well, Friday the 15th I went on a camp visit, which was really interesting, because it is one of the relocation zones 12 miles outside Port-au-Prince - Corail (not to be confused with the town in the south-west). Relocation meaning dumping people out in the middle of nowhere in a desert basically. There is absolutely no shade, and getting into the city takes time and money. There are a bunch of things I could say about that too, but I feel like I'm too tired to not just start to rant, so I'm going to restrain myself... But google it and you'll find images that will give you an idea of the conditions there.

What happened though was that I manage to catch something that day that gave me the compulsory sick-days that I guess every person changing culture and climate must go through. Some sort of stomache bug, and I was flat out for the weekend. It took most of the rest of the week to get back to normal.
That week was hard, because the few friends I have here were busy or out of the country, and that in combination with low energy levels just made my mood dip completely.

So I've really enjoyed being TOO busy this week, it is in deed much nicer. Though I'm relly tired now, and I apologize for a not too elegant entry...
I can go on for hours these days about this country that has really captured my heart, but for now I'm going to stop.

Have a good weekend!
/L

Hot Haitian Night

The day before my last entry I hit rock bottom. I had been trapped in front of the computer for three days just entering data into an excel file. There was very little human interaction at the same time as the internet in the house decided to crash for a few days. I felt so isolated and lonely. Indescribable. And right now kind of surreal.

But it seems like I needed three weeks to start to feel comfortable and more secure here.
First week was all new and exciting. Second week reality caught up. And third week was lonely lonely lonely. But, yeah, on the 30th I broke down at the office and cried. It was a bit embarrassing, but also necessary. I think there were two good outcomes: 1. people got to understand that it can be difficult to be new and get zero introduction or orientation, alongside trying to cope with cultural differences, 2. I needed to cry and be done with it.
That day we went back to Petit-Goave, but this time to visit camps. It was interesting, but mostly it was so good to spend a whole day in the presence of other people. And I got to experience my first round of (amazingly cute) kids screaming "Blanc, Blanc!".

After that it's been going steadily up.
I have step by step dared to venture out and take back some freedom. Not a whole lot. And not all the time. But it’s the small things that count in these situations.

I have walked by foot from the house to the main road 'Route Delmas'. I should add that there are literally no white people walking in this country. Well, Meagan. She's the only one I've seen so far.
I love walking. Even here where it's more of a hike than a walk.

I have taken my very first Tap-Tap. They are colorful pickup trucks remodeled to take passengers in the back. It's a hail down, cram in, sweat all the water out of your body kind of thing.

I have also taken my first moto taxi ride. That is; get on the back of a motorcycle, hold on for dear life, and make sure to keep your knees and elbows in. Even more exciting! It's Meagan, again, who is the ultimate guide, and I'm so thankful for getting to see a bit more than the office and the house.

I have started to dare to say phrases in Creole, and I actually understand most if the person doesn't speak too fast (or I'm too tired).

Tuesday we went on a monitoring visit to the camp Champ de Mars that holds over 50.000 people. I don’t know what to say about that. I’ve been struggling lately with the picture people get of Haiti. It’s partly the reason why I haven’t written in a while.
It’s a balance. The situation here is bad. Really bad for some. And that needs to be communicated to the world. Especially since there are a gazillion aid agencies and international organizations here that say a lot of nice things on their web pages about what they do. But if you spend five minutes in a place like Champ de Mars you’ll start to wonder where all the money is disappearing. There’s a need for accountability.
But at the same time I want to watch it so that I don’t get all “poor Haiti”. There’s no point in US crying about it. That’s for them to do – and they aren’t. People in the camp were really nice. I got a new buddy. She’s three and looked at me with big eyes, and eventually dared to take my hand.
You see all you international organizations, the most important thing is the easiest thing: talk to people!
There are standards and codes of conduct outlined for how to do relief work. This is called the SPHERE handbook. Google that. Read it. It’ll go on about participation. And using the local capacities. And how the people in need really knows best about their own situation. And needs to be respected. I wonder how much resources went into the making of that handbook.
Our program director had a meeting with some hot shots from the UN yesterday. There were at least five security cars with their engines running in the yard, blocking the gate, and around the office. I asked him how it went. He started a rant. He was SO angry (and amusingly enough not afraid to tell them that) because they had just made a new report on the internally displaced people here. And when they’re done they come and talk to local organizations about it. In his opinion just so it can look good on paper. Because what is the point in talking to the locals when the report is already finished?
Frustration.

I don’t know if I came to any conclusions about what I started here, but anyways.
Just wanted to let you know that of course everything I write will be through my ‘Swedish lens’. But I am so blessed to be working with gifted, engaged Haitian people. I was hoping to contribute, but as always I end up just learning. It’s such a gift, and even though it is trying at times, it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, and something that will shape me for sure.

Life here is slow time to time, my social network is limited, and I’m an anxious soul. But it’s wonderful to just learn that also. To take in all the impressions. To enjoy the car ride every day. The nature. The colors. The people. Just now I sat on the balcony on the swing and just soaked in all the lights from the houses on the hillside, the voices singing in the night, and the noises from the neighbors and the city. Then a light rain started to fall. It was somehow such a beautiful moment. Right before then I was frustrated and sad. With the internet not working. With missing my beloved. With the empty, dark house. But a quiet moment in the hot Haitian night somehow made it better.
It’s a beautiful country.

/L

Elections..

So people here are don't have any hopes for the upcoming elections. And no wonder. Here is a small report by the RNDDH - and it's pretty shocking stuff. Criminal candidates, corruption and lots of manipulation. Read if you have the time!

Just talked to the janitor, Blanc, here at the office, and he told us about how they go into the poor areas to buy up votes. The candidates who have this done are people who would NEVER put their foot in those areas. Democracy? Representing the people? Wouldn't think so. There's a lot of promising and a lot of forgetting once election day is over.

It's sad to see a city prepare for elections that no one has any faith in. Blanc says we'll know the day before the elections already who has won.

So let's be thankful if we live in countries with a lower corruption rate. Democracy is flawed everywhere, but very evidently so here.

Sorry to bring you such a downer of a blog post on a Friday. But I at least do intend to go out and have fun despite the reality of the world.

Take care of each other and have a good weekend!
/L

What do we do when we fall down..?

This Saturday I could not stop crying. And I didn't get it. It must be that I'm tired I thought. But it was like the floodgate of my soul had opened up and now the water was rushing so fast it was impossible to stop.
It's the simplest factors that start those things. This time it was the skype date that got interrupted. And we hung up quite abruptly. And all of a sudden my intense no-stopping-no-time-to-think-week had come to a halt, and I found myself alone in a big house with no possibility to go anywhere and no one to talk to. And so it was like something fell on me and I just started sobbing.

No wonder. I had been going non-stop for a week. In a new culture. With no one here to vent with - just e-mail to Sweden. I had felt overwhelmed and small and insecure, but there had been no place for those feelings. And I had seen things. Hard things. And I wasn't ready for how you deal with those things. Cause you don't. That's the thing. You watch and register and feel mostly nothing. It's too hard to understand. It's not at all how I thought it would be. I thought I would cry on the spot if I saw something that was difficult to see. And even after crying I don't think I've understood anything. But somehow my heart does, I think, because

I found myself crying for the prisoners, and the starving kids, and the camps, and the stench in those camps, and for the woman who gave us her number because she needed a tent - just minutes before the storms rolled in. Really, you want to break apart for all of that. But you can't. And you can't help. Not really. But you want to. So you cry a little more for your own incapacities. And for the cruelty of the world. And the unfairness of it all.

You have to deal with that too. The guilt of having more. Of being okey.
But, like Tobi scolded me: "do you think anyone here lives worse than they can afford??" No. Of course not. And I have no option - I live with the one contact I had in the country. And it wouldn't do anyone any good if I were to join the camps. But it's just there. The guilt.

But some tears, and a nap, and a late night councelling session on skype, with 30 seconds delay, later I was feeling - not great - but much better (thanks Gustav by the way - that was not an easy task!).

This morning I was going through the greeting process that is a great part of haitian culture - got to say good morning to each and everyone, ask how they're doing, kiss etc - and I answered Tobi "well, I had a breakdown Saturday, but I'm better now". He said something like "good that you can admit that and think no lesser of yourself". And I think that's important. This is just how it goes. I need to not put such high pressure on myself, because I've realized that I have this feeling of needing to contribute so greatly starting right now. Like people expect me to prove that I'm useful. And so I get stressed out and don't allow myself to see that this is ONLY the second week, and that I am JUST starting to learn both the language and the organization. I have to remember to breathe. Simply.

Just breathe.