Haiti Reflections

Some of the group started feeling overwhelmed by the conditions we saw.  Nzunga advised that we not think about the big picture, instead we focus on one person, one thing at a time.  The school being built.  The girl we met who Kihomi is helping.  The eye clinic, the hospital, the orphanage.  I'm so grateful for these projects, for all the hard work Nzunga, Kihomi, Pastor Mano have done in Haiti, for how hard they all fight for education.

However, I can't focus on one person, one project at a time, because this is so contrary to how I was raised.  I was raised to look at the whole community, and support causes that help a collective group of people, so there's no unfair distribution of resources.  I have been raised on the big picture, the revolution, the community organizing, the collectivising.

(Here is an important point for me to pause, and recognize someone.  The person who I absorbed the word collectivising from cares a lot about truth.  She also spends portions of her stories recognizing others and their thoughts, so it's important for me to say that this word came from her.  I was on Lily So-Too's computer when I saw a folder labeled "Collectivising."  She has lived in co-op, communal spaces for a while, and participates in many community oriented groups.  When I saw this folder, I had an idea of what it might mean for her, why she might have grown this word, and I immediately went into the words and used it myself to write a poem.  The poem didn't come out precisely how I wanted, so I'm still trying the word on for size.)

I remember being impressed when Chris was going to Haiti with All Hands, and he had raised enough money to buy some extra things for the kids, bubbles and coloring books.  Chris said he was going to put them in the schools at All Hands suggestion, so that they were a collective resource that all the kids could access, instead of going to five or six families in a town with thirty families with children.

It's hard for me to think about "one at a time" in Haiti, because I've heard so many stories about Haiti that make it the definition of collectivising.

...for the last twenty or thirty years, the U.S. has basically been trying to turn Haiti into kind of an export platform with super-cheap labor and lucrative returns for U.S. investors.  And for a long time it seemed to be working: there was a lot of repression, the population was under control, American investors were making big profits, and so on.  Then in 1990, something happened which really surprised the hell out of everyone.  There was this free election in Haiti, which everyone here assumed would be won by the former World Bank official we were backing [Marc Bazin], who had all the resources, and foreign support, and so on--but meanwhile something had been going on in the slums and peasant communities of Haiti that nobody here was paying any attention to: a lively and vibrant civil society was forming, with big grassroots organizations, and people getting involved in all kinds of activities.  There was in fact a huge amount of popular organizing and activisim--but who here was paying any attention?  The C.I.A. doesn't look at stuff like that, certainly American journalists don't.  So nobody here knew.  Well, all of a sudden, in December 1990, these grassroots organizations came out of the woodwork and won the election. (Chomsky)

Nzunga told me things were still bad when Aristide was in power, that he just armed the other side.  I believe him, because he lived through it and I didn't even know about it at the time.  For me it all comes back to wanting to learn the language, to hear more stories about how things were.

Angeline drove us here!

My favorite times on our Haiti trip were the moments when I felt the barrier come down for just a moment between me and the things and people I was seeing.  When Nzunga started letting us ride in the back of the pick-up truck, and we would wave to all the kids in the countryside, shouting "Bonswa" to one another.  Driving around the city with just Nzunga and Angeline, and getting to see Angeline merge into traffic, swerve around city streets, and climb her way up a cliff at the wheel in Cap Haitien.  Sitting and listening to the DJ at the hotel the first night, and drinking my first Haitien beer.  Standing outside of the compound gate, telling the guard I wouldn't come in because I was going somewhere with Nzunga, and chatting with the school girls on the corner who looked and acted as if they had been waiting to meet me.

I definitely want to go back.  A big part of this trip was getting to meet some different members and churches of the Evergreen Association, which was really fun and I am extremely grateful for those friendships.  However, next time, I want to go back without being part of a group of ten Americans, so I can expand those barrier free moments into whole experiences.  Kihomi said the next time we came to Haiti, she would take us to stay with the women she works with in the villages.  I am going to start practicing my Creole now, to be ready for that opportunity when it arises.

The reverse culture shock has definitely been a lot harder than the initial culture shock.  I have been debriefing like crazy with anyone who will listen.  The conversation I had recently that helped me the most was when Ron and I talked about the idea of "one at a time" verses collectively changing a corrupt system.  Ron told me about a book, "The 100th Monkey."  He says the idea is you teach one monkey something, and then it teaches another, and suddenly by the time 100 monkeys have learned something, every monkey knows it.  That at some pivotal turning point, let's say 100, even though your process was "one at a time," there has been a massive shift in the collective conscious.  This idea helped me with my struggle of the desire for collective change, but also wanting to be supportive of the important work I saw Nzunga and Kihomi do.