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.

Contact Information

If you want to send letters you can do it to the office:
9 Rue Riviere
Port-au-Prince Haiti

I also went out and got a haitian number today that I will use from now on:
(509) 31 10 66 52

Look forward to hearing from you!

Happy birthday..

Correction of last post:
It's spelled anfòm, without space of course - need to get out of my french thinking. Probably doesn't matter much to you, but for the sake of accuracy.. :)

I would also just like to give you a link to the organization, you'll find a report here about the country six months after the earthquake, and RNDDH's recommendations. Could be interesting for those of you who want to get an overall picture of the situation. It is not long, so if you have a minute, please take the time!

Today is my birthday, and I'm celebrating as usual in a new place with new friends. Haven't told many yet though. But I share birthday with Tobi (formerly refered to as Toby), so we have at least greeted each other, and I got birthday kisses from the very nice secretary Tamara. I'm happy, because my birthday gift today was the courage to talk to the housekeeper, the chauffeur, and my colleagues a little bit in creole. Especially when it comes to the people who work in the house it feels important. They serve me all the time, which is not a strange thing in itself in this culture, but then I would at least like to have the ability to keep us at equal level by being friends. Rony/Wony/other spelling, who is the main cook/housekeeper just laughed and said 'bravo!' when I asked her 'kôman ou ye?' (how are you?) this morning. It's so much fun, because it is the most common phrase, but those few words opened up so much I feel. She is such a warm, loving woman who cooks strange (for me) but excellent food.

I am yet to get used to getting served a whole meal in the morning. Thankfully it's good food. The people I know here eat a lot in the morning, then a big and late lunch that will last you all evening. I'm greatful for the fact that Pierre recognizes that I am a foreigner though, so he makes sure I can have some sort of snack in the evening.

I don't find the car rides here anything unusual anymore. Funny how fast you can adapt. Maybe I haven't talked to you too much about driving here, so let's give you an idea:
- you have to have an SUV, jeep or alike. The roads are bumpy and hilly.
- you have to have good breaks. You'll be spending a lot of time doing abrupt stops and waiting in a tilting position.
- quote Tobi: "a car without a horn is pretty much useless in Haiti". You honk all the time! Because you're annoyed, because someone needs to move, because you want to inform someone they can pass before you, to say hi... well you get the idea..
So, in the beginning the car rides felt like a rollercoaster ride. You jump and tumble and roll way too fast (in your eyes) downhill and pass way to close to other vehicles.
Now I've realized that, yes, everyone here drives like an insane person, but the thing is that they all seem to have a great perception of how big their own vehicle is, and they all seem to be very aware of the fact that everyone else is crazy.
So now it's all normalized..

Once again: I love the people here!
If I'm ever negative about anything, don't let it affect your view of the haitians. I haven't met a single person who hasn't welcomed me and smiled and said encouraging words when I try to speak the few phrases I know in creole.

Even if there's a total of maybe three people who know it's my birthday here, I still feel good today. Still, I would feel even better if you spent a thought on me today of course :) Many of you have already been in touch.
Now: back to my creole text book..

Be well and happy birthday!

/Linnea

First day in official capacity!

An fòm?

So my lovely colleague Meagan teaches me and comforts me through this time of culture shock. I've only met her an hour or so a day, but she really is great. She's fluent in creole, she's steady and she knows what to inform me about. I am so thankful for her. And also for my german colleague Toby. It is so much easier to learn a culture by help of someone who can see it with your eyes.
Meagan taught me this greeting phrase 'an fòm?'. It means 'in shape', but people on the street use it as sort of 'what's up?' and then you answer with the same phrase which would translate to something like 'awesome!'. So apparently, if you use this as a 'blanc' (which refers to all foreigners by the way, not just the white) they will complement you and say 'wow you speak better creole than I do!'. "Which is a lie, but we love to work with those kinds of statements" - Meagan :) I haven't tried this out yet, so we'll see if it's true..

I've so far spent three days at the office.
Monday was the first day, which was spent mostly overwhelmed. Staff meeting in creole in the morning. Crazy shouting and joking all over the place - got translated maybe half of it. Then I read reports to try and get an insight into what they do. It was very interesting.
It is the most wonderful thing to be able to take part in something hands-on. They do monitoring work, will oversee the elections, teach human rights, and speak up on TV all the time with information and to fight corruption. Lelene (probably has another spelling) at the office is quite the celebrity, because she is the one most often on TV..

It is so easy to get angry when you are here. There is such an high presens of foreigners. A lot of people do good, but some have strange motives. This is not a surprise, but it just gets so real when you are here. Foreign soldiers are seen trading guns for drugs in the slum, or at the other end there are the rich diplomats, aidworkers and consultants with a 4-8 weeks rotation, who spend their time at home, in the car, at the office or at the UN. They never learn a word of creole, they never speak to anyone on the street. And they are supposed to give advise and decide on this country's reconstruction. It is ridiculous! The latest top meeting was held in New York. Just that. You would think we would have come further by now from the Berlin conference, the one where Europe divided up Africa with a map and a ruler..
Today I heard a woman speak who had been here six (!) years. She spoke english. She hadn't even picked up a greeting phrase. My colleague turned to our neighbors and said: this girl has been here 4 days and she already knows! (proud moment for me :)

My second day at the office was a reality check. We took a two hour car ride south-west along the coast to a town called Petit Goave. I loved the ride. I always say that if you want to see the true spirit of a country you need to go into the countryside. And it was beautiful and VERY bumpy (note that even driving within the city is enormously bumpy). The roads are partially destroyed from the earthquake. At one point we had to drive through a river. It was crazy and I was happy we didn't get stuck, because I would have been one of those that had to get out and push.. :)

The prisons though are a long sad story in themselves. You can't imagine. We went to a very small one. Road side. Just two cells. 68 inmates!
In Sweden two cells would have meant one prisoner in each. Here we're talking up to 30 prisoners. 80-90% have never been convicted. They are just held in 'preventative detention'. And the crimes are PETTY; stealing water, stealing wood, threats. Maybe killing a guy SIX years ago (time to bring it up now?). Of course crimes like rape or assault also, but Toby says he's never come across any trustworthy accusations of murder or similar. And remember that these are all just accusations - barely any convicitons. It is insane.
What RNDDH do is that they go out and interview the prisoners to get the data right. To see if they've ever been before a judge, how long they've been there (some since March), if we can contact someone for them etc. I just observed this time. I don't have the training and I don't have the language yet. But it was interesting.
Mostly because I was bracing myself before, thinking it would be aweful. and on paper it is aweful. But when you are there it's just you and them. One human being and another human being. I don't know if that sounds cold, and like I'm distancing myself, but for me it's been a good experience. It means you stop victimizing and just start spending time with them. This is why the consultants and diplomats should get out of their protective bubbles!

Today was my third day, and I was assigned to go to an international symposium together with my funny colleague Esaïe. We rubbed shoulders with some ministers and other high up people with nice power-points, but it was such a clash with yesterday. In french I would use the word 'nul', which might be something like 'rubbish' (my favourite british word) in english. C'est nul! Just really pointless and empty phrases. I asked Esaïe "So do you think anything will happen after this meeting?" "No, nothing (laughter). They promise you gold and diamonds and then tomorrow not a thing happens". And we're going again tomorrow - yay!

I have had my moments of this fear that comes from culture shock. It's objectively irrational, and when you look at it in the rearview mirror you don't understand why you felt it. But it's just this insecurity and loneliness and being overwhelmed that attacks you and makes you panic a bit. I think anyone who has travelled like this would recognize it. That's why it's so nice to have people around who have been through the same process. And I am really blessed, because I had no idea they would be here.
I've been feeling like I'm going totally blind into situations. I have no idea about anything. And I'm used to taking care of myself, but here there's someone to do every job. It's good, because it means sharing your wealth. But it is so strange because I come from Sweden, and we don't keep maids and such.. It gives me less of the overview that I crave. But it's an interesting process.
How I want to end this thread is by saying that I am happy that it has never been a whole day of feeling like that. There's always something in the day that makes me feel happy and safe. Mostly it's the wonderful haitian people. Monday night when I was terrified because Toby had, unaware of it, completely scared me about the upcoming prison visits, Fito drove me home. He is this sweet man who speaks poor english, but he loves to try. So we had an exchange in the car; I spoke english with him, and he taught me phrases in creole. He is laughing all the time. So is Esaïe. He made me feel welcome and safe. I love that.

So my heart is bleeding for Sweden now that a nationalist, racist party have managed to get into parliament.
I wish all who voted for them could come here. You'd be scared and lonely and overwhelmed. You'd see poverty and ruins and lots and lots of tents and dirt and misery. But you'd see the tap-taps (colorful buses), the beautiful chaos, the gorgeous mountains, the smiling people, and you'd be taken home safely by a nice and comforting haitian man with a moustache and a warm laughter. I think you could need that.

/Linnea

Detour

So, I should have learned from the 2006 wrong-visa-cancelled-flight-lost-bag-debacle that this wasn’t exactly going to go according to plan…

I left Chicago on time, no worries. Found my gate in Miami and sat down. And waited. And waited. And “yes, we’re boarding first class”. And “no, not really, there’s still some technical problem with the plane”. And waited. And “no, sorry this flight is cancelled”.

So… I got gift vouchers for the Crowne Plaza hotel. Nice. High standard. Big room. Free meal.
All alone. No bag.
Had a nice dinner on my own though. Became five years old again at the sight of all the single-serving products in the bathroom. Saw…the neighborhood. Which wasn’t great. Yay, Miami! :)

Got up at 4 AM to catch the shuttle to the airport at 4.20. Or that was the plan. That was the wakeup-call order. But… I woke up by my own alarm (lucky I set it), disoriented, at 4.16! (Had apparently already snoozed twice without remembering it).That was the quickest getting clothes on in the history of earth! Ran downstairs just in time to hold the shuttle long enough to check out.

Then more waiting, but not too bad. Talked to this “kind” and “concerned” brit-gone-canadian. He seemed to know his stuff. Had lived in several third world countries. Worked with reconstruction. Scared the shit out of me with his talk of malaria pills. Which I hadn't gotten any from my swedish doctor. “Oh, really? No seriously, you need to get some right away. You’re staying with locals? Mhm, yeah you need to [basically not touch anything in their house]”. Wow, thanks for the info I thought, and got freaked out. Trusting.
Then the subject turned to his work and life. “Yeah, I’m so glad I got out of the UK when I did. Now it’s all downhill. They’re letting everyone stay...”. Ok, so you’re against immigration? “No, no. It’s just; when they wear their traditional clothes they’re saying that they don’t wanna be a part of our society. I mean I’ve lived in Liberia, but I adapted, I mean otherwise it’s just to go home right?”. Right. Let me say that to my refugee friends in Malmo - cause it’s so easy to "just go home"…
This man was also irritated at the Haitians for not being able to decide where to dump all the stuff that’s left after the fallen buildings, “in my opinion it’s just to dump it in the sea and make some more land”. Yup, in your opinion it’s ‘just to do’ a whole lot of things. Why are you in this profession again??

Alright. Decided to not freak out after I’d realized what a, in lack of a more subtle term, moron he was. Things will be fine.

And, yes, I landed in Port-au-Prince. All was good. Got let into the country. Picked up my bag at the arrival”hall” (pretty much a shed, and then straight out into the street to meet the people waiting), and made my way out. Kept an eye out for the sign that said ‘Linnea’. He would be here right? Pierre my host. He must have seen that the flight was re-scheduled. I’d sent an email too. Annoying that I didn’t remember his face. But we had only met once, briefly, in March. Now everyone looked like a potential Pierre. Also; there are a LOT of people jumping on you as you get out. Taxi? Can I help you to anywhere? Of course. This is a way to make money when jobs are scarce. And I was a thankful victim – little pale white girl, with a confused and slightly worried look on her face. The thing to say is though that they are actually genuinely friendly, at least the once I talked to. This one guy tried to help me for real. He phoned the numbers I had, and kept a look-out. But I only had office numbers, and Pierre was nowhere to be seen. With only an address to the office too, I had no idea where to go.

But, my earlier travels and mishaps have taught me one thing: it ALWAYS works out. Strangely enough. And, violà, there he was all of a sudden.

A bumpy car ride later I was at…a MANSION. Seriously. This is a big house. I feel a little bit guilty after the drive past the refugee camps with row after row of tents. Here I have food, fan, clean water, friendly faces, high standard bathroom, internet, and a view. Only problem is that electricity is out from time to time. SMALL problem!

I feel blessed. I think this will give me time to process all the things I will see in a better manner, without having the worries of deceases, security etc hanging over me too. And with the possibility of communicating with the people I miss, and the people who’ve been in the same situation before. Without that opportunity I think it could easily get overwhelming.

Just driving past the fallen buildings this morning. I can’t fathom. It was hard to realize where I was, and it was like the car window became a shield to the world outside. But once when we drove by the ruin of a huge building, just for a second, I imagined myself being trapped under the concrete and had a moment of panic.

Right now I’m back in denial mode. Besides being super HOT (yes, pretty, but also warm), I don’t have much that reminds me of the fact that I’m here. So I’m waiting for the blow. The breakdown. I think I am stronger than I let myself believe though. The next few days will tell.

One thing I am very excited about is learning Creole. I’ve already been taught a few phrases. It’s similar to French in many ways, but has much simpler grammar (yay!). And it’s very visual. ‘Merci beaucoup’, for example, translates into (never mind the spelling) ‘meci en pile’. Like ‘piles of thanks’ – can’t you see them in your mind? I love that! Also, I just learned that 'nou' means both 'you' and 'us'. Like my very nice belgian neighbor-teaching-me-everything Liz said; What a beautiful philosophy!

A sticky, tired, thirsty, hungry, yet happy and excited, Linnea signing out.

PS. Would as usual love to hear from you!

Off we go

So, I'm sitting in Chicago with my stuff all over Michael and Karina's floor.. It's 11.23 PM and I should ideally have been to bed already. Oh well, this is how it works. No matter how early I start packing I always end up like right now. Staring. Deciding. Undeciding. Pondering life, the universe and everything..

My flight leaves at 8.25 tomorrow morning (central time). I'll be in Miami three hours later, and I'll be in Port-au-Prince by 15.10 local time.

So far I've always had some trouble getting picked up at my destinations, no matter how pre-decided everything's been, so we'll see.. It could be interesting to be stranded in a culture I have no clue about. With a language I speak very limited. But let's hope for the best.

I've really enjoyed my time here in the States. I've met friends I hadn't seen in a really long time. It's been good. It's been fun. People have been very generous, which has been super appreciated since my budget is so tiny. Thanks guys!

But, I am so ready to go now. I didn't expect it to be so hard to just relax and enjoy vacation. But I've been so antsy. Just wondering what it's like in Haiti. How it will feel to be there. I think it will be really good to just get started. I mean, if it's going to be horrible, I'd rather just know and start the process of getting used to it. And if it's going to be great, well, let's get to it!

Anyways. For those of you who believe in praying, I would appreciate it. I don't totally love flying, so that's the first thing. But mainly, I think the beginning of this adventure will be tough, especially because of the language. It makes it twice as hard to adapt to a new culture.

And as I sit here trying to pack, I realize that I don't quite know what I need to bring. So that'll be a nice surprise when I get down there. I don't want to be the stupid spoiled rich white person who don't get anything, but I have a feeling that's exactly what I will look like. A little bit lost over all.

So, maybe you could all think of me and my look of 'quoi?' that I will carry around for quite some time.. :)

I would love to hear from you! So feel free to comment, or email (linnea.gotland@gmail.com), or write me on facebook.

There are also some more pictures from Chicago here.

See you on the other side!

love /Linnea

KS/MI

I'm on my way out the door to see some people I haven't seen in four years, so I'm excited. I'm finally back in my beloved Chicago.. Spent some beautiful days in Lawrence, KS, and then had a great weekend in Michigan with my "american family" :) Just wanted to give you some more pictures (which you can find here), so you can follow me as I come closer and closer to leaving for the GREAT adventure.

Take care!

DC

Have spent some wonderful (and extremely hot for a swede) days in Washington DC visiting my friend Dan. Dan is the perfect host, and we've had a great time checking out some of the monuments and sights here. Don't have anything profound to say today, just wanted to say hi and post some pictures, if anyone is interested.. Hope you're all doing well wherever you are!
Love /L

Turns out this blog is crap at posting pictures, so I've put them here instead.

procrastination. the usual.

I haven't realized that I am leaving yet. I won't land in Port-au-Prince until the 18th of September, but I am leaving this gorgeous island in aproximately 36 hours. And starting Monday I will be constantly on the move until I set foot on that other island in that other sea. It is undescribably exciting and also a bit terrifying.
And so I should pack. And check. And re-check so that everything essential goes into the bag. But I can't get myself to do anything but sit and stare and try to get it into my head that there's a great adventure coming. And it will be fantabulous (as I like to call it). But it will be t o u g h.
After a month of well-needed vacation I will see a lot of things I'm not quite sure I am ready for. And I will know no-one. And I will have to get around on my third language. And I am sure I will manage to be inpolite, and dress wrong, and make funny language mistakes that will make me feel like the smallest, dumbest person on the planet...
But, I guess I wouldn't be the person I am today if I hadn't made those mistakes in the past, so maybe I should just get off my butt and start packing all the wrong things so I can be on my way.

I will try and keep this little journal in english so all my friends from different parts of the world can come along on the journey (it would be wonderful if you wanted to). But I reserve the right to resort to swedish if I'm having that kind of day (though hopefully I won't).
Now be well til I have the time to write again!

Here's my itinerary:
16/8 Belgrad
23/8 Stockholm
27/8 Washington DC
Lawrence, KS
Chicago
18/9 Port-au-Prince
15/12 Chicago
20/12 Stockholm