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!