On Thursday morning, as we passed platters of fresh fruit and eggs, it was hard to believe that this would be our last day in Haiti. In such a short time, we had seen and learned so much.
A Wednesday night discussion had set the tone for Thursday. As a group, we reflected on how valuable it had been to see the promising, hopeful side of Haiti. We saw this in small business owners, in rebuilt schools, in beautiful scenery and in the promise of new hospital facilities. We vowed to bring this message of hope back with us. However, as law students studying human rights, we felt it was also important to learn about and to see some of the extreme hardship in Haiti.
So on our last day, we spoke with attorneys and community members working with Haitians living in tent cities, or “camps” who were facing eviction. We also had the opportunity to tour one of these camps. This was a chance to see, up close, the unimaginable living conditions of so many Haitians.
Our speakers talked about President Martelly’s plan to evict the residents of several camps. They discussed legal strategies, the importance of educating Haitians about their rights, and community empowerment. It was inspiring to see the different types of activists and how they were rallying for these residents.
Actually entering a camp was an unforgettable experience. In the morning, I worked with a group of law students from Fordham. We surveyed camp residents about what camp life was like, what they knew about Martelly’s eviction plans, and where they would go if evicted. While many answers were hard to hear, and probably even harder for the residents to admit, the Haitians remained proud and dignified. In the afternoon, the entire delegation toured a different camp. We were guided by one of our speakers, Joseph, who was on that camp’s committee.
Unsurprisingly, the living conditions in these camps are deplorable. Many families are sheltered only by tarps. The ground is dirty and muddy. The job prospects are low. Nonetheless, the children are sweet, playful and friendly. There is laughter, friendship and family. The contrast in these camps paralleled the discussion we had as a group. While Haiti is broken, it is hopeful.
In retrospect, I am so fortunate to have had this experience. The range of exposure to both the good and bad fostered a lot of thoughtful discussion about how to really help, and what our purpose was as a delegation. I hope this exposure inspired some of us to pursue an even deeper understanding and to effectuate change in complicated, resilient, beautiful Haiti.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Day 5 - Larry
Though the United Nations stabilization mission in Haiti (herein referred to as MINUSTAH) is internationally viewed as a great aid to Haiti in theory, it has been anything but that in practice. Today was a reminder of why most of us on this mission chose law as the vehicle to affect social change in this world. We worked with the Bureas de Avocats Internationaux (herein referred to as BAI). That is the law firm in Haiti established by the founders of the Institute of Justice & Democracy in Haiti in the United States (herein referred to as IJDH). Currently, the firm is working on the cholera litigation. According to webmd.com, the major symptom of cholera is massive watery diarrhea that occurs because of a toxin secreted by the bacteria that stimulates the cells of the small intestine to secrete fluid. In short, the disease dehydrates you and can be deadly if untreated.
The cholera outbreak in Haiti has claimed the lives of over seven thousand Haitians and sickened nearly a half million and counting. Recently, the IJDH brought a petition to the United Nations, seeking financial compensation for the victims of the disease. The suit alleges that the United Nations, through its deployment of its Nepalese troops, brought cholera to Haiti back in 2010. Though Nepalese troops had been in Haiti for at least six years prior to the outbreak, new troops entered in 2010. In Nepal during 2010, there were 300 cases of fatal cholera. It is possible to have cholera without exhibiting symptoms. As a result, the petition states that the United Nations was negligent in, among other things, not adequately testing the Nepalese troops for cholera prior to their stationing in Haiti.
As we went through the boxes of documents we realized that the more than five thousand named plaintiffs in the lawsuit each had individual faces, names, and stories. To have injured hundreds of thousands of Haitians, especially after the January 2010 earthquake, seems to support what most Haitian locals told us about the U.N., “they are not wanted and have harmed more than helped our country’s poor.” Among the remedies sought by the petition is damages for survivors of cholera, damages for the families of those who have deceased from the disease, funding for a new water irrigation system for the country to control the endemic, and most of all an apology from the U.N. However, there are some obstacles.
The petitioners are limited to a civil suit since the agreement signed for MINUSTAH has a criminal immunity clause. There is recourse through a committee that is supposed to hear complaints against MINUSTAH, but that committee was never set up. That means since 2004 there has been no accountability for MINUSTAH. Hopefully, at minimum the committee can be established and the U.N. can issue an apology for its role in bringing cholera to the already decrepit country of Haiti. With Harvard scientists, among others, linking the cholera strain in Haiti to the one in Nepal, there is little doubt as to the U.N.’s responsibility in the matter.
Larry R. Daniels III
The cholera outbreak in Haiti has claimed the lives of over seven thousand Haitians and sickened nearly a half million and counting. Recently, the IJDH brought a petition to the United Nations, seeking financial compensation for the victims of the disease. The suit alleges that the United Nations, through its deployment of its Nepalese troops, brought cholera to Haiti back in 2010. Though Nepalese troops had been in Haiti for at least six years prior to the outbreak, new troops entered in 2010. In Nepal during 2010, there were 300 cases of fatal cholera. It is possible to have cholera without exhibiting symptoms. As a result, the petition states that the United Nations was negligent in, among other things, not adequately testing the Nepalese troops for cholera prior to their stationing in Haiti.
As we went through the boxes of documents we realized that the more than five thousand named plaintiffs in the lawsuit each had individual faces, names, and stories. To have injured hundreds of thousands of Haitians, especially after the January 2010 earthquake, seems to support what most Haitian locals told us about the U.N., “they are not wanted and have harmed more than helped our country’s poor.” Among the remedies sought by the petition is damages for survivors of cholera, damages for the families of those who have deceased from the disease, funding for a new water irrigation system for the country to control the endemic, and most of all an apology from the U.N. However, there are some obstacles.
The petitioners are limited to a civil suit since the agreement signed for MINUSTAH has a criminal immunity clause. There is recourse through a committee that is supposed to hear complaints against MINUSTAH, but that committee was never set up. That means since 2004 there has been no accountability for MINUSTAH. Hopefully, at minimum the committee can be established and the U.N. can issue an apology for its role in bringing cholera to the already decrepit country of Haiti. With Harvard scientists, among others, linking the cholera strain in Haiti to the one in Nepal, there is little doubt as to the U.N.’s responsibility in the matter.
Larry R. Daniels III
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Day 4- Claudia
After finishing our trips to the micro-finance businesses, Regine wanted to give the delegation an opportunity to experience some of the beauty and culture of Haiti. We travelled up into the mountains surrounding Port Au Prince to visit a town called Furcy, which is at an elevation of about one mile above sea level. Along the way we stopped at a brick oven pizza restaurant owned by a French man and enjoyed margarita, pepperoni, and escargot pizzas. As we drove up the mountains and out of the city, the change in wealth and status was immediately apparent. Literally the higher you traveled into the mountains, the more wealthy the people became. In the hills outside of Port Au Prince were the homes of middle class Haitians. Many of these people are now part of the diaspora, and as a result their homes or either abandoned or rented to NGO’s. Additionally, there is a lot of new construction. Members of the diaspora are able to affordably build homes outside the city where they can retire.
Even higher in the mountains members of the bourgeoisie lived. All of these homes were still dispersed with poor rural shacks and people living off substance farming. The view from the mountains was beautiful with lots of wooden gingerbread houses very different from the cement homes you see in the city. The air was cool, probably about 75 degrees, with a nice breeze. Tropical plants were mixed with lots of green foliage and pine trees. We parked our SUV and walked to the home of an artist who lived in a wooden house set into the side of the mountain. We enjoyed his artwork, and the view from his home. Afterwards, a local man took us into the downtown area of Furcy. We saw merchants lining the streets and preparing food like goat and vegetables. We wound our way back through the village to a large church, with a beautiful painting and a crucifix carved by the artist who designed Neg Mawon, the symbol of the slave revolution in Haiti.
In the village we met a group of boys who followed us and enjoyed trying to communicate with them in a mix of broken English and Kreyol. We were shocked when we asked their ages, although they looked about ten or eleven many were sixteen or seventeen. The boys appeared healthy and well-fed, but a low caloric intake resulted in them being much smaller than American boys their age. Afterwards, we traveled back to the guesthouse for a delicious Haitian meal of chicken, rice and beans, and bread. Full and happy, we enjoyed some dialogue about our experiences over the course of the past several days before going to bed.
Even higher in the mountains members of the bourgeoisie lived. All of these homes were still dispersed with poor rural shacks and people living off substance farming. The view from the mountains was beautiful with lots of wooden gingerbread houses very different from the cement homes you see in the city. The air was cool, probably about 75 degrees, with a nice breeze. Tropical plants were mixed with lots of green foliage and pine trees. We parked our SUV and walked to the home of an artist who lived in a wooden house set into the side of the mountain. We enjoyed his artwork, and the view from his home. Afterwards, a local man took us into the downtown area of Furcy. We saw merchants lining the streets and preparing food like goat and vegetables. We wound our way back through the village to a large church, with a beautiful painting and a crucifix carved by the artist who designed Neg Mawon, the symbol of the slave revolution in Haiti.
In the village we met a group of boys who followed us and enjoyed trying to communicate with them in a mix of broken English and Kreyol. We were shocked when we asked their ages, although they looked about ten or eleven many were sixteen or seventeen. The boys appeared healthy and well-fed, but a low caloric intake resulted in them being much smaller than American boys their age. Afterwards, we traveled back to the guesthouse for a delicious Haitian meal of chicken, rice and beans, and bread. Full and happy, we enjoyed some dialogue about our experiences over the course of the past several days before going to bed.
Haitian Entrepreneurship (Days 3 and 4) - Sean and Alex
On Monday and Tuesday, the group met with three Haitian entrepreneurs: a budding restaurateur, a baker, and a designer of painted silk fabric and garments. In getting to know each person, we were struck by the similarities between Haitian and American entrepreneurial professionalism. Each entrepreneur expressed the hopefulness and sense of purpose upon which Haitian microfinance and American venture funding, alike, are intended to capitalize. However, we noted an important difference between the mentalities of our hosts in Port au Prince and those of the entrepreneurs who come to Earle Mack’s Entrepreneurship Law Clinic looking for advice and assistance. The difference revolves around a distinction: Does the entrepreneur view “entrepreneurship” as an individual attempt at (1) sustainability or (2) scalability? Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs approached entrepreneurship as an attempt at scalability. They designed products that could be provided to ever increasing numbers of consumers at the cost of only marginally increasing amounts of effort. The tin artists we visited on Day Two, on the other hand, seek sustainability, the ongoing provision of a living wage in return for a consistent output of effort, because their surroundings and capabilities necessitate it. This begs a question: How can Haitian microfinance operations incentivize the conceptualization of entrepreneurship as an effort toward scalability?
Our trip to the bakery typified the sustainability approach. The baker manufactures, packages and sells assorted baked goods out of her home, employing a staff of five to ten people, depending on market conditions. Her business model gives her control of production but requires her to continually seek out new purchasers of her goods, purchasers who hold a disproportionate level of control over the terms of the relationship. For instance, grocery stores will only take her goods on credit, and will only pay her for the items they sell, forcing her to shield those stores from the risks associated with retailing her goods. Further, her profits per unit can be expected to increase only marginally with increased sales, due to Haiti’s lack of infrastructure and precariously unsteady supply chain. Though the baker has done something truly amazing in creating a consistently profitable business in Port au Prince, her business model incorporates unnecessary risks in return for an unpredictable reward.
The restaurateur, on the other hand, possesses the germ of a scalable product. He began with an idea, the low-cost provision of breakfast, lunch and dinner in a vibrant, if impoverished, neighborhood. The nature of his product, cooked pasta, points to one of the most interesting lessons we learned in Haiti. As Chef Anthony Bourdain has noted, considering the evolution of cassoulet in France and Hopping John in the American South, national delicacies have often arisen from the necessities of poverty. Because dry pasta is cheap, calorically dense and capable of long periods of safe storage, the distinctively un-Hatian combination of spaghetti, hot dogs and ketchup has become a staple of modern Haitian cuisine. The restaurateur intends to develop a customer base by providing this and other locally popular meals at a low price point. His business model gives him control of a brand and of a market, for low-cost dining, which he has a hand in promoting and which the Haitian market can support, in terms of both supply and demand. As his base of purchasers grows, his profits will depend chiefly upon his management and maintenance of the brand, rather than on the number of hours he and his staff are able to spend in the kitchen. Thus, his business model is scalable.
The clothing designer presents the starkest contrast between the scalability and sustainability entrepreneurial mindsets. She is an artist, a painter of distinctive silken fabric designs. In transferring her skills to profits, though, she’s rejected a scalable approach, perhaps without knowing she had an option in the matter. For instance, the designer was approached by a well-known, upscale women’s clothing brand interested in marketing her clothing and fabrics. Rather than consider licensing her designs to the larger company and allowing them to manufacture reproductions, the designer failed to follow up with their buyer, on the supposition that she would have otherwise born the impossible task of hand painting each of the garments sought to be sold. As in the baker’s example, the designer’s business model is not scalable. As with the restaurateur, however, the scalability of her product really only depends on the mindset of its producer. If her sales and profits are to grow, which seems eminently possible considering her talents, we believe she’ll require (and we know she'd like to receive) training and mentorship in business administration.
In meeting these entrepreneurs, we’ve learned that the difficulties inherent to their context - the poverty and seeming desperation of post-earthquake Port au Prince - might be mitigated through a combination of business training and continued, but far more focused, financing. The purpose of microfinance should be to provide incentives for entrepreneurs in developing countries to change their focus from sustainability to scalability. The Haitian market does not need more wood and tin artisans, it needs more entrepreneurs of all sorts who have the training and assistance necessary to create growth oriented businesses. At present, the mentalities of the baker and clothing designer make absolute sense, as each entrepreneur is forced to focus, above all else, on procuring life’s most basic necessities. If, however, the sources of Haitian microfinance hope to allow recipients to dream bigger, as the restaurateur has thus far succeeded in doing, success will only become attainable by providing them the tools necessary to achieving scalability. As has been noted in many contexts, there is a soft bigotry inherent to low expectations. The provision of further micro-financing, without more in the form of business training and mentoring, seems unlikely to provide the sort of long term results Haiti needs most.
Our trip to the bakery typified the sustainability approach. The baker manufactures, packages and sells assorted baked goods out of her home, employing a staff of five to ten people, depending on market conditions. Her business model gives her control of production but requires her to continually seek out new purchasers of her goods, purchasers who hold a disproportionate level of control over the terms of the relationship. For instance, grocery stores will only take her goods on credit, and will only pay her for the items they sell, forcing her to shield those stores from the risks associated with retailing her goods. Further, her profits per unit can be expected to increase only marginally with increased sales, due to Haiti’s lack of infrastructure and precariously unsteady supply chain. Though the baker has done something truly amazing in creating a consistently profitable business in Port au Prince, her business model incorporates unnecessary risks in return for an unpredictable reward.
The restaurateur, on the other hand, possesses the germ of a scalable product. He began with an idea, the low-cost provision of breakfast, lunch and dinner in a vibrant, if impoverished, neighborhood. The nature of his product, cooked pasta, points to one of the most interesting lessons we learned in Haiti. As Chef Anthony Bourdain has noted, considering the evolution of cassoulet in France and Hopping John in the American South, national delicacies have often arisen from the necessities of poverty. Because dry pasta is cheap, calorically dense and capable of long periods of safe storage, the distinctively un-Hatian combination of spaghetti, hot dogs and ketchup has become a staple of modern Haitian cuisine. The restaurateur intends to develop a customer base by providing this and other locally popular meals at a low price point. His business model gives him control of a brand and of a market, for low-cost dining, which he has a hand in promoting and which the Haitian market can support, in terms of both supply and demand. As his base of purchasers grows, his profits will depend chiefly upon his management and maintenance of the brand, rather than on the number of hours he and his staff are able to spend in the kitchen. Thus, his business model is scalable.
The clothing designer presents the starkest contrast between the scalability and sustainability entrepreneurial mindsets. She is an artist, a painter of distinctive silken fabric designs. In transferring her skills to profits, though, she’s rejected a scalable approach, perhaps without knowing she had an option in the matter. For instance, the designer was approached by a well-known, upscale women’s clothing brand interested in marketing her clothing and fabrics. Rather than consider licensing her designs to the larger company and allowing them to manufacture reproductions, the designer failed to follow up with their buyer, on the supposition that she would have otherwise born the impossible task of hand painting each of the garments sought to be sold. As in the baker’s example, the designer’s business model is not scalable. As with the restaurateur, however, the scalability of her product really only depends on the mindset of its producer. If her sales and profits are to grow, which seems eminently possible considering her talents, we believe she’ll require (and we know she'd like to receive) training and mentorship in business administration.
In meeting these entrepreneurs, we’ve learned that the difficulties inherent to their context - the poverty and seeming desperation of post-earthquake Port au Prince - might be mitigated through a combination of business training and continued, but far more focused, financing. The purpose of microfinance should be to provide incentives for entrepreneurs in developing countries to change their focus from sustainability to scalability. The Haitian market does not need more wood and tin artisans, it needs more entrepreneurs of all sorts who have the training and assistance necessary to create growth oriented businesses. At present, the mentalities of the baker and clothing designer make absolute sense, as each entrepreneur is forced to focus, above all else, on procuring life’s most basic necessities. If, however, the sources of Haitian microfinance hope to allow recipients to dream bigger, as the restaurateur has thus far succeeded in doing, success will only become attainable by providing them the tools necessary to achieving scalability. As has been noted in many contexts, there is a soft bigotry inherent to low expectations. The provision of further micro-financing, without more in the form of business training and mentoring, seems unlikely to provide the sort of long term results Haiti needs most.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Day 2- Dorcas Adekunle
After a delicious breakfast of French toast and fruit (watermelon, pineapples, and mango), we all entered the SUV and Regine drove us to our first stop, State Hospital. We were introduced to Dr. Jimmy Joseph who gave us a tour of the entire hospital. The first room we observed was the emergency room which was very small in comparison to any emergency room I have seen in the United States. The room was crowded with patients on small beds the size of hotel cots and while there were a few ceiling fans, there was no air conditioning. Patients were exposed because the curtains which provided a sense of privacy were removed. Initially, I did not understand why patients would want this exposure but Dr. Joseph explained that it actually helped in the rehabilitation process because patients felt a sense of community knowing that other patients and family members were so close.
Although it is a State hospital, the government does not provide enough supplies. Many patients are required to obtain a prescription for equipment from their doctor, purchase those items, and bring them to the hospital in order to get treatment. Dr. Joseph showed us the surgery room which was small and is only equipped to allow four surgeries at one time. Even though doctors are expected to work twenty four hours a day, they are only able to perform at most twenty surgeries in one day.
Unfortunately, because of earth quake damage several wards were closed down, however there are plans to build a new hospital. Dr. Joseph expressed that one of their main challenges with the current building is that the wards are scattered; time is wasted and patient conditions are compromised when people are transported outdoors from one side of the hospital to another. Instead of building out, the new hospital will be built up and be more efficient. Construction is expected to be completed in 36 months and the new building, a $60 million investment will go a long way to improve patient conditions and be more accessible to the people of Port au Prince.
I was impressed with Dr. Joseph because along with being a bright and compassionate doctor, he took at least two hours out of his busy day to give us a thorough tour. To me it seemed like the hospital had bare necessities to serve the patients but the practitioners were invested in their work. It was also interesting to see the hospital as a local hang out for people. They were generally socializing, washing their laundry in the common areas, fixing their hair and just relaxing.
We then took in some local culture and stopped to purchase souvenirs. Our first stop was merchants who sold beautiful wooden and fabric artwork. I bargained with a seller and got a good deal on two fabric paintings which will look great on my wall. We also stopped by artists who made and sold gorgeous metal art. It was fascinating to watch the artisans in the process of crafting and painting such stunning work. The art was sold out of houses and the price of the artwork was open to negotiation. Although it was obvious to the sellers that we are Americans, they generally hesitated to speak English to us. I first thought maybe the artists did not understand English, but Regine told me that most of them understood and even if they only spoke limited English, they had a good understanding of “dollars” and were ready to bargain.
Another highlight of the day was learning how to cook Haitian food with Susie of Famvin. As a sub-sector of the Vincentian Family organization, Famvin provides microfinance for established businesses in Haiti who meet expertise and sustainability criteria. It was great to hear about how much of a difference this funding makes in people’s lives because they now able to take their businesses to another level.
The food was delicious and while we were not able to do much cooking we were told the food preparation process. I was surprised to find out that Haitian chicken takes hours to clean and prepare because of the meticulous cleaning, and marinating that is involved. We were served chicken, rice with beans, plantains, coleslaw, macaroni salad and vegetable salad. Overall the second day was quite informative and fun. The Haitians are wonderful people with so much to offer.
Although it is a State hospital, the government does not provide enough supplies. Many patients are required to obtain a prescription for equipment from their doctor, purchase those items, and bring them to the hospital in order to get treatment. Dr. Joseph showed us the surgery room which was small and is only equipped to allow four surgeries at one time. Even though doctors are expected to work twenty four hours a day, they are only able to perform at most twenty surgeries in one day.
Unfortunately, because of earth quake damage several wards were closed down, however there are plans to build a new hospital. Dr. Joseph expressed that one of their main challenges with the current building is that the wards are scattered; time is wasted and patient conditions are compromised when people are transported outdoors from one side of the hospital to another. Instead of building out, the new hospital will be built up and be more efficient. Construction is expected to be completed in 36 months and the new building, a $60 million investment will go a long way to improve patient conditions and be more accessible to the people of Port au Prince.
I was impressed with Dr. Joseph because along with being a bright and compassionate doctor, he took at least two hours out of his busy day to give us a thorough tour. To me it seemed like the hospital had bare necessities to serve the patients but the practitioners were invested in their work. It was also interesting to see the hospital as a local hang out for people. They were generally socializing, washing their laundry in the common areas, fixing their hair and just relaxing.
We then took in some local culture and stopped to purchase souvenirs. Our first stop was merchants who sold beautiful wooden and fabric artwork. I bargained with a seller and got a good deal on two fabric paintings which will look great on my wall. We also stopped by artists who made and sold gorgeous metal art. It was fascinating to watch the artisans in the process of crafting and painting such stunning work. The art was sold out of houses and the price of the artwork was open to negotiation. Although it was obvious to the sellers that we are Americans, they generally hesitated to speak English to us. I first thought maybe the artists did not understand English, but Regine told me that most of them understood and even if they only spoke limited English, they had a good understanding of “dollars” and were ready to bargain.
Another highlight of the day was learning how to cook Haitian food with Susie of Famvin. As a sub-sector of the Vincentian Family organization, Famvin provides microfinance for established businesses in Haiti who meet expertise and sustainability criteria. It was great to hear about how much of a difference this funding makes in people’s lives because they now able to take their businesses to another level.
The food was delicious and while we were not able to do much cooking we were told the food preparation process. I was surprised to find out that Haitian chicken takes hours to clean and prepare because of the meticulous cleaning, and marinating that is involved. We were served chicken, rice with beans, plantains, coleslaw, macaroni salad and vegetable salad. Overall the second day was quite informative and fun. The Haitians are wonderful people with so much to offer.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Day 1- Jess
A lot. These are words I overused the first day in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. We emerged from the airport and a lot of men wanted to help us find our bags or drive us places. On the drive to our guest house we saw a lot of animals eating trash on the roadsides--big black pigs, small brown dogs, goats with plastic and metal in their mouths. We drove past a lot of NGOs and a lot of low and brightly painted schools. We saw a lot of women carrying baskets with a lot of different items for sale. One basket was arranged as a flower with toothbrushes as a stamen and petals of gum, loose tissues, and tiny pouches of laundry detergent. We fell silent as we passed a tent camp filled with too many tents. All the while we leaned into each other's thighs and shoulders, smiling and apologizing, because the roads need a lot of work.
Our first night, we settled into our guest house that was guarded by a man with a large gun who unlocked the gates for us. The house is run by Outreach to Haiti, which employs Pharra as its Projects Coordinator. Pharra laughs a lot and loudly and she cooked us a delicious stew with carrots, peas, and spices I couldn't place then she sang us prayers from the head of our table. Her many opinions about Haiti fell out of her big smiles. We also spoke with our guide Regine who explained how much more than Port-au-Prince we would see, how culturally rich and complex Haiti is, and how we must not use victim portrayals when we talk about Haiti.
After dinner and dishwashing, Professor Tom Griffin, Dean Susan Brooks, and we students went to the balcony to talk about what we'd seen--the a lots. Tom explained what contributed to them and we all brainstormed what could be done about them. We discussed the dearth of jobs and infrastructure that contribute to no trash collection or road repair. We discussed the population and how those under 25 comprise 54 percent; this and the lack of funding for public schools cause people to build the many private schools. The NGOs don't cooperate or aim to help Haitians attain self-reliance, so more NGOs move in on top of others to "solve" problems. The poor are so poor they can only afford small quantities of anything, hence the individual tissues and tiny detergent packets. Our conversations swell with goals and priorities for Haiti and ebb as we criticize tactics or question starting-points. In that confusion, we all, or at least I do, fall back on the comfort that we don't need to solve what we saw today. It was important work to see it, to put it in context this week, and to bring all of it back with us on our tongues and in our hearts.
Our first night, we settled into our guest house that was guarded by a man with a large gun who unlocked the gates for us. The house is run by Outreach to Haiti, which employs Pharra as its Projects Coordinator. Pharra laughs a lot and loudly and she cooked us a delicious stew with carrots, peas, and spices I couldn't place then she sang us prayers from the head of our table. Her many opinions about Haiti fell out of her big smiles. We also spoke with our guide Regine who explained how much more than Port-au-Prince we would see, how culturally rich and complex Haiti is, and how we must not use victim portrayals when we talk about Haiti.
After dinner and dishwashing, Professor Tom Griffin, Dean Susan Brooks, and we students went to the balcony to talk about what we'd seen--the a lots. Tom explained what contributed to them and we all brainstormed what could be done about them. We discussed the dearth of jobs and infrastructure that contribute to no trash collection or road repair. We discussed the population and how those under 25 comprise 54 percent; this and the lack of funding for public schools cause people to build the many private schools. The NGOs don't cooperate or aim to help Haitians attain self-reliance, so more NGOs move in on top of others to "solve" problems. The poor are so poor they can only afford small quantities of anything, hence the individual tissues and tiny detergent packets. Our conversations swell with goals and priorities for Haiti and ebb as we criticize tactics or question starting-points. In that confusion, we all, or at least I do, fall back on the comfort that we don't need to solve what we saw today. It was important work to see it, to put it in context this week, and to bring all of it back with us on our tongues and in our hearts.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Day 7- Ted
As I reflect on the past week, I’m reminded about the odd tension in which we live.
I draft this entry on an airplane, where an in-flight magazine features Alec Baldwin elaborating on the hardships of fame and a seat-back catalog tries to convince me that I need a $500 helmet that uses laser therapy to replenish my hairline. Meanwhile, the cost for each student to participate in this trip is well over the average Haitian’s annual income.
After a week of witnessing dehumanizing poverty, you might say I’m experiencing a bit of cognitive dissonance.
Why do I live in luxury in the United States while my Haitian brothers and sisters suffer in wretched tent cities and slums? And why do I so easily put out of my mind the billions of other human beings who face similar struggles relentlessly? These aren’t new questions for me. I’ve already lived in Haiti for 4 months, and this week was but a short return trip. Still, posing them again helps to reflect, recalibrate my values, and recognize how I so easily neglect them in my day-to-day living in the U.S.
Life is short. I want my years on earth to count for things that matter like love, peace, compassion and justice, all the while lived in the richness of meaningful community. Instead, I’m so often preoccupied by the distractions of materialism, petty worries, worthless entertainment and self-centeredness.
When I first started laying plans for the Haiti Justice Project two and a half years ago, I wanted it to be an opportunity for students to stretch their hearts and minds in service to the poor, marginalized and oppressed. I hope we’ll remember those short moments of connection and relationship we experienced this week, both with the dispossessed and with each other, and that these experiences will motivate us to eschew mediocrity and live lives marked by values that transcend ourselves.
So, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll quiet Alec down and opt out of picking up that laser helmet. Here’s to spending our lives for the sake of others--thanks to the team and all of our friends in Haiti for helping me, and hopefully us, move towards that end.
I draft this entry on an airplane, where an in-flight magazine features Alec Baldwin elaborating on the hardships of fame and a seat-back catalog tries to convince me that I need a $500 helmet that uses laser therapy to replenish my hairline. Meanwhile, the cost for each student to participate in this trip is well over the average Haitian’s annual income.
After a week of witnessing dehumanizing poverty, you might say I’m experiencing a bit of cognitive dissonance.
Why do I live in luxury in the United States while my Haitian brothers and sisters suffer in wretched tent cities and slums? And why do I so easily put out of my mind the billions of other human beings who face similar struggles relentlessly? These aren’t new questions for me. I’ve already lived in Haiti for 4 months, and this week was but a short return trip. Still, posing them again helps to reflect, recalibrate my values, and recognize how I so easily neglect them in my day-to-day living in the U.S.
Life is short. I want my years on earth to count for things that matter like love, peace, compassion and justice, all the while lived in the richness of meaningful community. Instead, I’m so often preoccupied by the distractions of materialism, petty worries, worthless entertainment and self-centeredness.
When I first started laying plans for the Haiti Justice Project two and a half years ago, I wanted it to be an opportunity for students to stretch their hearts and minds in service to the poor, marginalized and oppressed. I hope we’ll remember those short moments of connection and relationship we experienced this week, both with the dispossessed and with each other, and that these experiences will motivate us to eschew mediocrity and live lives marked by values that transcend ourselves.
So, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll quiet Alec down and opt out of picking up that laser helmet. Here’s to spending our lives for the sake of others--thanks to the team and all of our friends in Haiti for helping me, and hopefully us, move towards that end.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Day 6- Adan
After a quick breakfast we visited representatives from Un Techo Para Mi Pais (“Un Techo”). Un Techo is a youth-led Latin American non-profit present in 19 different countries.
To say that I was impressed by Un Techo would be an understatement. After a week of seeing NGO sites that included fancy office space, pampered air conditioning and brand new sport utility vehicles, it was refreshing to see a model focused on improving the conditions of the Haitian people. Un Techo keeps their staff size small and administrative costs low. Whereas other NGOs admitted to not having direct contact with residents living in the slums, Un Techo takes a holistic approach to community development. During construction projects, everyone including the staff members, volunteers and displaced residents eat lunch together, sleep in the same camps, and work in teams to build each transitional home.
One final point that impressed me about Un Techo was their dedication to working in an area that hasn’t been designated as an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp. There are some property rights issues between a private landowner and the Haitian government that has affected the legal status of the land. As a result the land where 25,000-30,000 families currently reside do not get mentioned in the statistics of IDPs. Even more importantly, the aid that is designated for IDPs aren’t being distributed to these estimated 200,000 individuals. If you drove up on the high hills overlooking this area and saw the thousands of homes where people are living, it would be impossible to believe that these people do not fall under the category of an IDP.
Once we got back in the car to return to the Guest House, Tom told us that Aristide arrived during our visit with Un Techo. Aristide spoke to the thousands of supporters that greeted him at the airport. This was a long awaited return for the first democratically elected president of Haiti. His return meant more people in the streets which also led to more drivers on the rickety roads. We got caught in a slight traffic jam but fortunately escaped without any damage or harm.
We spent the rest of the afternoon, until dinner, working on reports for Regine. At one point we recounted the last 70 years of Haiti’s history as experienced through the residents we interviewed. I think Tom stated what we were thinking when he said he was amazed to hear the richness of these people’s stories. There were events even Regine didn’t know occurred that displaced people in Cite Soleil.
After dinner, the delegation bonded in a different way. We sat around chatting, laughing and even played a game where we guessed the person’s name on a piece of paper that was on our foreheads. Both Giselle and Lydia (whom coincidently were sitting next to each other) ended up having the same person – one of the presidential candidates. Regine was funny because she was getting very competitive the more the game progressed. However, I think Tom’s “Dora the Explorer” was the icing on the funny cake. Overall, we couldn’t have asked for a better ending to this wonderful experience.
To say that I was impressed by Un Techo would be an understatement. After a week of seeing NGO sites that included fancy office space, pampered air conditioning and brand new sport utility vehicles, it was refreshing to see a model focused on improving the conditions of the Haitian people. Un Techo keeps their staff size small and administrative costs low. Whereas other NGOs admitted to not having direct contact with residents living in the slums, Un Techo takes a holistic approach to community development. During construction projects, everyone including the staff members, volunteers and displaced residents eat lunch together, sleep in the same camps, and work in teams to build each transitional home.
One final point that impressed me about Un Techo was their dedication to working in an area that hasn’t been designated as an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp. There are some property rights issues between a private landowner and the Haitian government that has affected the legal status of the land. As a result the land where 25,000-30,000 families currently reside do not get mentioned in the statistics of IDPs. Even more importantly, the aid that is designated for IDPs aren’t being distributed to these estimated 200,000 individuals. If you drove up on the high hills overlooking this area and saw the thousands of homes where people are living, it would be impossible to believe that these people do not fall under the category of an IDP.
Once we got back in the car to return to the Guest House, Tom told us that Aristide arrived during our visit with Un Techo. Aristide spoke to the thousands of supporters that greeted him at the airport. This was a long awaited return for the first democratically elected president of Haiti. His return meant more people in the streets which also led to more drivers on the rickety roads. We got caught in a slight traffic jam but fortunately escaped without any damage or harm.
We spent the rest of the afternoon, until dinner, working on reports for Regine. At one point we recounted the last 70 years of Haiti’s history as experienced through the residents we interviewed. I think Tom stated what we were thinking when he said he was amazed to hear the richness of these people’s stories. There were events even Regine didn’t know occurred that displaced people in Cite Soleil.
After dinner, the delegation bonded in a different way. We sat around chatting, laughing and even played a game where we guessed the person’s name on a piece of paper that was on our foreheads. Both Giselle and Lydia (whom coincidently were sitting next to each other) ended up having the same person – one of the presidential candidates. Regine was funny because she was getting very competitive the more the game progressed. However, I think Tom’s “Dora the Explorer” was the icing on the funny cake. Overall, we couldn’t have asked for a better ending to this wonderful experience.
Day 5- Giselle
We woke up early today, really early. We were headed to mountain called Beau Michel to see the newly rediscovered Fort Durouet. We ate our standard morning fare--egg soufflé with Haitian bread--and then all piled into the SUVs and headed north along the coast. To my left I could see crystal clear Caribbean waters, but to my right barren beige mountains speckled with squatter “homes” which continued for miles. I remembered this area being discussed by World Vision. We were in Corial, Port-au-Prince’s newest settlement. Although Corial has an ocean view many would pay millions to have, it was plain to see that this new settlement had nothing much to offer the 30,000+ squatters. It was far from the city and water could only be obtained by the use of trucks. We all knew that Corail’s inconvenient location was likely to assure it’s destiny as Haiti’s newest slum. We turned off the main road and headed down a dusty gravel path. I didn’t know at the time that the trip was going to be hours long.
In our dusty caravan was the well respected Pastor Wualaier. Pastor Wualaier was described by Ted as a Ghandi or Martin Luther King-type figure. The pastor recounted his story, telling us how he had been sold into slavery as a child and had lived a mistreated and tortured life. After a fateful reunion with his mother Pastor Wualaier was set on a path that would later help him organize communities. His philosophy was simple; heal people, heal communities and then create a stable environment.
The drive took us past a community that he had helped. We got out of the car and trekked up the side of a mountain where two meager structures were built. One was a school comprised of a tarp held up by sticks and a small church with cement block walls and a corrugated metal roof. In that church, Pastor Wualaier told us that Haitians were hard to organize because the Haitian tradition of voodoo makes them inherently suspicious of each other.
After another bumpy hour or so, we arrived at our destination, Fort Durouet. This was a French fort built when Haiti was still a French colony. Its remote location had kept it untouched for centuries. It was great to be able to climb among the stones and explore the ruins. The delegation climbed among leftover and cannons, even adopting a horse-- Icarus. As I gazed across the landscape I couldn’t help but try to imagine Haiti how it once was a lush tropical island, the “Jewel of the Caribbean.” I wondered how this little country could have been so mutilated. I was told that satellite views show the Dominican Republic as a green-filled spot in the middle of the sea, but that green abruptly ends into brown: the indication that you have wandered across the border and into Haiti. Tom later commented how the resources of Haiti are taken without the slightest care for its future. Haiti was sucked dry by deforestation and the greed, leaving it the barren and starving country we know today.
In our dusty caravan was the well respected Pastor Wualaier. Pastor Wualaier was described by Ted as a Ghandi or Martin Luther King-type figure. The pastor recounted his story, telling us how he had been sold into slavery as a child and had lived a mistreated and tortured life. After a fateful reunion with his mother Pastor Wualaier was set on a path that would later help him organize communities. His philosophy was simple; heal people, heal communities and then create a stable environment.
The drive took us past a community that he had helped. We got out of the car and trekked up the side of a mountain where two meager structures were built. One was a school comprised of a tarp held up by sticks and a small church with cement block walls and a corrugated metal roof. In that church, Pastor Wualaier told us that Haitians were hard to organize because the Haitian tradition of voodoo makes them inherently suspicious of each other.
After another bumpy hour or so, we arrived at our destination, Fort Durouet. This was a French fort built when Haiti was still a French colony. Its remote location had kept it untouched for centuries. It was great to be able to climb among the stones and explore the ruins. The delegation climbed among leftover and cannons, even adopting a horse-- Icarus. As I gazed across the landscape I couldn’t help but try to imagine Haiti how it once was a lush tropical island, the “Jewel of the Caribbean.” I wondered how this little country could have been so mutilated. I was told that satellite views show the Dominican Republic as a green-filled spot in the middle of the sea, but that green abruptly ends into brown: the indication that you have wandered across the border and into Haiti. Tom later commented how the resources of Haiti are taken without the slightest care for its future. Haiti was sucked dry by deforestation and the greed, leaving it the barren and starving country we know today.
Day 4- Megan
Where Do You Start?
Last night we had a discussion around the dinner table how to start helping Haiti. People are starving. They live in overcrowded tents and do not have clean water to drink. Many have no medical care, no jobs, and no security in their communities. Where do you start? Do you fix the roads so that business and industry move in? Do you buy food so that everyone can eat? Do you bring in agriculture experts to teach people how to grow their own food? Do you build medical clinics to stop the spread of disease?
I have been thinking about “where to start” all day. This morning, while sitting around the guesthouse, we talked with some farmers from Indiana. They were here to teach a small village how to farm. Their church was paying for a resident of the village to go to agriculture school. The resident was then going to teach his whole community how to grow crops on their land. I thought this sounded like a good place to start.
Later in the day, we met with World Vision, a large international organization that does relief work in Haiti. Representatives from World Vision told us about how they were building transitional shelters for people whose houses were destroyed in the earthquake. Shelters built by World Vision have a concrete floor that helps keep them from flooding. They have steel frames, wood siding, and windows for ventilation. Currently, World Vision has built 800 shelters. These shelters are designed to be temporary, however they are so sturdy that people will likely stay there for years. World Vision said that they decided to build sturdy houses because they will last longer. However, the trade off was that that fewer houses could be built and that it would take longer. I thought the idea to build sturdy more permanent shelters for people was a good idea. It seemed to be a good place to start.
On the way home, we were packed into a car bouncing up and down in the heat. As we were dodging around holes and rubble, I thought about the importance of roads for a community. Better roads would connect communities. They might bring in businesses, and they would help bring assistance to people all over Haiti. Better roads could really help Haiti. They would be a good place to start.
Finally, before bed we were lucky enough to have a woman come and talk to us about the history and political situation of Haiti. There are elections coming up this Sunday, and I thought she was going to talk to us about the candidates and their positions. But I wasn’t exactly right. Instead, she sat down and started talking about Haiti’s independence in 1804. She started there because in order to understand the politics today, we needed to understand Haiti’s past. We all sat around the table listening intently for 2 ½ hours. We could have sat longer, except we had to cut the meeting short because people in the guesthouse were trying to sleep.
In the end, I don’t think there is a “right” place to start. With so many pressing needs, it seems like just starting is the important thing. Perhaps, the best place to start is by learning about all of the struggles and the years of oppression that people have faced. Hopefully, by understanding a country’s past, it will help us understand the way things are today and make meaningful change for the future.
Last night we had a discussion around the dinner table how to start helping Haiti. People are starving. They live in overcrowded tents and do not have clean water to drink. Many have no medical care, no jobs, and no security in their communities. Where do you start? Do you fix the roads so that business and industry move in? Do you buy food so that everyone can eat? Do you bring in agriculture experts to teach people how to grow their own food? Do you build medical clinics to stop the spread of disease?
I have been thinking about “where to start” all day. This morning, while sitting around the guesthouse, we talked with some farmers from Indiana. They were here to teach a small village how to farm. Their church was paying for a resident of the village to go to agriculture school. The resident was then going to teach his whole community how to grow crops on their land. I thought this sounded like a good place to start.
Later in the day, we met with World Vision, a large international organization that does relief work in Haiti. Representatives from World Vision told us about how they were building transitional shelters for people whose houses were destroyed in the earthquake. Shelters built by World Vision have a concrete floor that helps keep them from flooding. They have steel frames, wood siding, and windows for ventilation. Currently, World Vision has built 800 shelters. These shelters are designed to be temporary, however they are so sturdy that people will likely stay there for years. World Vision said that they decided to build sturdy houses because they will last longer. However, the trade off was that that fewer houses could be built and that it would take longer. I thought the idea to build sturdy more permanent shelters for people was a good idea. It seemed to be a good place to start.
On the way home, we were packed into a car bouncing up and down in the heat. As we were dodging around holes and rubble, I thought about the importance of roads for a community. Better roads would connect communities. They might bring in businesses, and they would help bring assistance to people all over Haiti. Better roads could really help Haiti. They would be a good place to start.
Finally, before bed we were lucky enough to have a woman come and talk to us about the history and political situation of Haiti. There are elections coming up this Sunday, and I thought she was going to talk to us about the candidates and their positions. But I wasn’t exactly right. Instead, she sat down and started talking about Haiti’s independence in 1804. She started there because in order to understand the politics today, we needed to understand Haiti’s past. We all sat around the table listening intently for 2 ½ hours. We could have sat longer, except we had to cut the meeting short because people in the guesthouse were trying to sleep.
In the end, I don’t think there is a “right” place to start. With so many pressing needs, it seems like just starting is the important thing. Perhaps, the best place to start is by learning about all of the struggles and the years of oppression that people have faced. Hopefully, by understanding a country’s past, it will help us understand the way things are today and make meaningful change for the future.
Day 3- Claudia
Today was a very busy and emotional day. We began the morning by traveling to Cite Soleil, the slum in Port Au Prince where LAMP for Haiti is located. Cite Soleil is one of the poorest slums in Haiti; there is no running water, little electricity and no sewage system. It is composed primarily of one story cement or wooden structures and tents. Cite Soleil used to have churches, schools and other buildings that were two stories, however, most of these were destroyed by the UN for fear of snipers. Cite Soleil was a dangerous area prior to the occupation of Haiti by UN forces in 2004, but has since stabilized for the most part. Although Port Au Prince is full of NGO’s providing relief to the people, there is a real lack of services in Cite Soleil because many of the organizations refuse to work there, in essence excluding the people with the most need from receiving aid. There are a lot of tenancy and land ownership issues in Cite Soleil because it is situated on public land and people “own” only the structures that they build. We have been conducting interviews in small groups with a translator. This morning my group interviewed a man named Casimir who has been living in Cite Soleil since 1978. Although at one point he owned seven houses which he rented for income, most of those properties have now been destroyed either by gangs or the 2010 earthquake. Casimir now lives in a large blue tent and cooks in the partially collapsed structure that was once his home. He took us to visit his tent, and I was shocked by how hot it was- almost unbearable- I can’t image sleeping in it. We also took a tour of the medical clinic located at LAMP where they provide pharmaceuticals and diagnostic testing. There was a little girl there who was near starvation, which was very sad to see. Her father was waiting there with her to get a special supplemental peanut butter that LAMP provides for malnourished children. It is heartbreaking to see such severe devastation. After interviews in Cite Soleil, we went to downtown Port Au Prince where we met with several Americans working at Beaure Des Avocats Internationaux (BAI) This is a legal organization that partners with grassroots organizations to support the people and stabilize the legal system. The women that we met with worked on housing issues and women’s rights. Rape is prevalent in the displacement camps in Haiti and is under prosecuted so BAI is attempting to empower women and strengthen the legal system by investigating and prosecuting cases. BAI is also working on a periodic review which will be submitted to the United Nations of the human rights conditions in Haiti. We also visited a museum of Haitian history which was fascinating; Haiti has such a rich history but has been plagued by many problems. After returning to the guesthouse that we are staying at, we decompressed and took notes about our interviews for the day, then engaged in a rousing round of Taboo, 1990s version, which somehow found its way down here. Remember beepers and disquettes?
Day 2- Lydia
After breakfast, we met Regine and drove around the city to see the different areas and get a feel for what was where before interviewing people. On the tour, we stopped by the presidential palace, which caved in on itself after the earthquake. It was a strange feeling to be standing across the street from hundreds of tents, looking through the chain-link fence at the neatly mowed grass and pristine white building which had fallen. There are plans to turn the palace into a new apartment building. The pictures of the plans and interior of the rooms were nicer than what you’d find in Rittenhouse; I wonder if the vision will match the reality.
Next on the agenda – visiting LAMP in Bwa Nef, an area in Cite Soleil. After a brief tour of the facilities (medical center, new public toilets/shower, office), we split up into groups for the interviews, where we spoke with older members of the community who had been in Cite Soleil in the 1960s or earlier (when it was called Cite Simone). We had two rounds of interviews – one in Bwa Nef, and one at Trois Bebe, another area of Cite Soleil that was nearby. Both areas were devastated by the earthquake. In Bwa Nef, there were still some structures standing, and new shelters were made by hanging sheets and tarp and such to form a kind of roof. In contrast, the settlement at Bwa Nef was mainly run by an organization (Pax Christi), and was striking because of the quality of the tents: neat rows of bright white, house-shaped living spaces. Both areas had the same major problem – a lack of permanent, safe housing for the displaced families who lived there.
One of my interviewees said something that has stayed with me – when asked if she felt safe and secure, she responded “I go to sleep at night, I wake up in the morning.” Every class in law school has given a standard by which to measure safety in a community: police presence, lighting, architecture, visitors, crime statistics. Her answer seems simplistic, but when you think about it, it’s the most accurate measure of an individual’s feeling of safety.
We also met with a man from IOM, an organization whose mandate is to help internally displaced people (not refugees) get basic human rights. The first thing you notice is the surroundings: white SUVs everywhere with “UN” on the side; flushing toilets; individual offices and meeting rooms with air conditioners; cold, clean water to drink; people in full suits in 90-degree weather. It makes you question the connection and involvement they have with the people they are there to help, although our contact assured us that he went to Cite Soleil 2-3 times a week. It was interesting to hear his point of view and, by extension, see the mindset of all the aid organizations that are in Haiti. While they are there to help, there is a self-imposed limit on what they do; he kept telling us, “We are not here to replace the government, we are here to give them a boost. It is the government’s job to take care of its people and citizens.” A valid point, but it makes you wonder just what exactly these organizations are doing in a country with such an unstable government . . .
We returned home around 5pm, though we had been so busy that it felt like 10pm. After a delicious Haitian dinner (rice and vegetables in a tomato sauce, summer squash, fresh bread), I was thinking about my first day here. As I reflected, one thing that kept coming up in my mind was the children. Everywhere you look, there are kids running around; those who can afford it are in uniforms and go to school, others help their families throughout the day. As we walked around the different camps and areas, kids would run up to us, smiling, playing. Practicing my (extremely limited) Kreyol, I asked one little girl her name, and she replied “Gallandine”; we seemed to be best friends after that. We took a few pictures with them – they love the camera and always have the biggest smiles. Despite this image, many of the children are neglected and malnourished (you can tell by their bodies and by their hair – the more malnourished, the finer and blonder their hair turns). These children weren’t smiling as much.
One image has stuck with me of this day. I was walking from the medical clinic to the LAMP office in Bwa Nef, and saw Mimi taking a picture of a little girl. Unlike all the other children who were running around us, the girl just stared, unsmiling, at the camera. I wasn’t sure why Mimi was taking her picture, and assumed this was a common procedure at the clinic and that the girl was very sick. I found out later that the young girl was very special – tomorrow, she is flying to the US to get an operation. It is an interesting juxtaposition which I think represents the situation in Haiti now – the sadness you see very easily next to the hard work of organizations which are giving the people hope. I can’t wait to keep working, and hope that I can impact a child’s life in the same way.
Next on the agenda – visiting LAMP in Bwa Nef, an area in Cite Soleil. After a brief tour of the facilities (medical center, new public toilets/shower, office), we split up into groups for the interviews, where we spoke with older members of the community who had been in Cite Soleil in the 1960s or earlier (when it was called Cite Simone). We had two rounds of interviews – one in Bwa Nef, and one at Trois Bebe, another area of Cite Soleil that was nearby. Both areas were devastated by the earthquake. In Bwa Nef, there were still some structures standing, and new shelters were made by hanging sheets and tarp and such to form a kind of roof. In contrast, the settlement at Bwa Nef was mainly run by an organization (Pax Christi), and was striking because of the quality of the tents: neat rows of bright white, house-shaped living spaces. Both areas had the same major problem – a lack of permanent, safe housing for the displaced families who lived there.
One of my interviewees said something that has stayed with me – when asked if she felt safe and secure, she responded “I go to sleep at night, I wake up in the morning.” Every class in law school has given a standard by which to measure safety in a community: police presence, lighting, architecture, visitors, crime statistics. Her answer seems simplistic, but when you think about it, it’s the most accurate measure of an individual’s feeling of safety.
We also met with a man from IOM, an organization whose mandate is to help internally displaced people (not refugees) get basic human rights. The first thing you notice is the surroundings: white SUVs everywhere with “UN” on the side; flushing toilets; individual offices and meeting rooms with air conditioners; cold, clean water to drink; people in full suits in 90-degree weather. It makes you question the connection and involvement they have with the people they are there to help, although our contact assured us that he went to Cite Soleil 2-3 times a week. It was interesting to hear his point of view and, by extension, see the mindset of all the aid organizations that are in Haiti. While they are there to help, there is a self-imposed limit on what they do; he kept telling us, “We are not here to replace the government, we are here to give them a boost. It is the government’s job to take care of its people and citizens.” A valid point, but it makes you wonder just what exactly these organizations are doing in a country with such an unstable government . . .
We returned home around 5pm, though we had been so busy that it felt like 10pm. After a delicious Haitian dinner (rice and vegetables in a tomato sauce, summer squash, fresh bread), I was thinking about my first day here. As I reflected, one thing that kept coming up in my mind was the children. Everywhere you look, there are kids running around; those who can afford it are in uniforms and go to school, others help their families throughout the day. As we walked around the different camps and areas, kids would run up to us, smiling, playing. Practicing my (extremely limited) Kreyol, I asked one little girl her name, and she replied “Gallandine”; we seemed to be best friends after that. We took a few pictures with them – they love the camera and always have the biggest smiles. Despite this image, many of the children are neglected and malnourished (you can tell by their bodies and by their hair – the more malnourished, the finer and blonder their hair turns). These children weren’t smiling as much.
One image has stuck with me of this day. I was walking from the medical clinic to the LAMP office in Bwa Nef, and saw Mimi taking a picture of a little girl. Unlike all the other children who were running around us, the girl just stared, unsmiling, at the camera. I wasn’t sure why Mimi was taking her picture, and assumed this was a common procedure at the clinic and that the girl was very sick. I found out later that the young girl was very special – tomorrow, she is flying to the US to get an operation. It is an interesting juxtaposition which I think represents the situation in Haiti now – the sadness you see very easily next to the hard work of organizations which are giving the people hope. I can’t wait to keep working, and hope that I can impact a child’s life in the same way.
Day 1-Yuan
In addition to the seven law students, Dean Susan Brooks, and Tom Griffin came on the trip. Tom Griffin is the co-founder of Lamp for Haiti and an immigration attorney in Philadelphia. He is also one of my personal mentors. He has done incredible work in Haiti for the last eleven years, specifically investigations on human rights violations and has written reports on his findings.
Our flight to Port-au-Prince departed at 6 a.m., which meant we all had to be at the Philadelphia airport by 4:30 a.m. As you can imagine, most of us passed out cold due to lack of sleep. Believe me I did as well but only after bonding with Dean Brooks for about 45 minutes. We had a layover in Miami. We boarded the plane in Miami and were one step closer to arriving in Port-au-Prince. I was personally surprised to see so many people on the plane. The passengers were mainly all foreigners.
We all sat down, put on our seat belts and then…
We were told that there was a technical difficulty with the plane and so we couldn’t take off…for three hour delay. During that time we had a group meeting to discuss the specific questions we wanted to ask during our interviews with the local residents of Cite Soleil for our human rights investigations. After a one hour and forty minute flight, we landed in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
While going through immigration, I looked around and saw so many foreigners coming into the country. When we exited the airport after going through customs, we saw groups of men gathered outside wanting to help us with our luggage for some extra cash.
One of the hosts of the guest house we are staying at met us at the airport with a mini-van. We all hopped in with our luggage piled in the back. On our drive to the guest house Matthew 25, I could not believe what I saw. With my bare eyes, I saw multiple tent camps. My eyes welled with tears as I saw how crowded the camps were. As we passed by one of the camps, I saw an older woman in a towel bathing behind a tent. The lack of privacy struck me…how are people in the camps able to have any privacy as they are all crowded around one another?
There were people bustling along the streets as we drove by. Street vendors. Painted pick-up trucks that serve as public transportation with over 8 people on them. When we arrived at the guest house, we met Regine, the full time Haitian American attorney with Lamp for Haiti. We discussed our schedule for the week and then had a delicious meal of pasta prepared by the staff of the guest house.
After dinner, we all went to Lamp for Haiti’s program director’s home in another part of Haiti. The program director’s name is Mimi, a Haitian woman who I came to admire. She has adopted multiple neglected children in the community. Different teams from the states live at her home when they come to Haiti. As I sat in her living room, I felt a deep sense of community around me.
While we were at Mimi’s house, we got a beautiful night view of Port-au-Prince. When I got home that night, I couldn’t wait to see what the week had in store for us. I could already sense the resilience and beauty of this land after only being here for half a day.
Our flight to Port-au-Prince departed at 6 a.m., which meant we all had to be at the Philadelphia airport by 4:30 a.m. As you can imagine, most of us passed out cold due to lack of sleep. Believe me I did as well but only after bonding with Dean Brooks for about 45 minutes. We had a layover in Miami. We boarded the plane in Miami and were one step closer to arriving in Port-au-Prince. I was personally surprised to see so many people on the plane. The passengers were mainly all foreigners.
We all sat down, put on our seat belts and then…
We were told that there was a technical difficulty with the plane and so we couldn’t take off…for three hour delay. During that time we had a group meeting to discuss the specific questions we wanted to ask during our interviews with the local residents of Cite Soleil for our human rights investigations. After a one hour and forty minute flight, we landed in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
While going through immigration, I looked around and saw so many foreigners coming into the country. When we exited the airport after going through customs, we saw groups of men gathered outside wanting to help us with our luggage for some extra cash.
One of the hosts of the guest house we are staying at met us at the airport with a mini-van. We all hopped in with our luggage piled in the back. On our drive to the guest house Matthew 25, I could not believe what I saw. With my bare eyes, I saw multiple tent camps. My eyes welled with tears as I saw how crowded the camps were. As we passed by one of the camps, I saw an older woman in a towel bathing behind a tent. The lack of privacy struck me…how are people in the camps able to have any privacy as they are all crowded around one another?
There were people bustling along the streets as we drove by. Street vendors. Painted pick-up trucks that serve as public transportation with over 8 people on them. When we arrived at the guest house, we met Regine, the full time Haitian American attorney with Lamp for Haiti. We discussed our schedule for the week and then had a delicious meal of pasta prepared by the staff of the guest house.
After dinner, we all went to Lamp for Haiti’s program director’s home in another part of Haiti. The program director’s name is Mimi, a Haitian woman who I came to admire. She has adopted multiple neglected children in the community. Different teams from the states live at her home when they come to Haiti. As I sat in her living room, I felt a deep sense of community around me.
While we were at Mimi’s house, we got a beautiful night view of Port-au-Prince. When I got home that night, I couldn’t wait to see what the week had in store for us. I could already sense the resilience and beauty of this land after only being here for half a day.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Introduction to the Delegation
What: Investigation of human rights violations in the area of transitional housing in Cite Soleil
When: March 13, 2011 - March 19, 2011
Where: Port-au-Prince, Haiti
Why: Creation of a human rights report
How: Interview of local residents and non-governmental organizations
Yuan Tang (3L)
Yuan was born in China and came to the United States at the age of 6. She has always lived in or around the Philadelphia area. She went to undergrad at Penn State's main campus where she got degrees in Psychology and Advertising with a minor in Sociology. After college she did Teach For America for three years where she taught middle school special education in North Philadelphia. During that time, she pursued a Master's in Education and then came to law school after her teaching experiences. She never thought she would come to law school but am glad that she did. She came to law school because of her deep commitment to justice and the underserved in the American society and the world.
Ted Oswald (3L)
Ted is from a suburb near Sacramento, California. He went to undergrad and studied international relations at the University of California, Davis, and had a life-changing trip to Egypt late in his college career. Ted returned to Egypt and completed a grad program in refugee studies which gave him lots of opportunities to learn from and live with Sudanese in Cairo. He started at Drexel shortly thereafter with an interest in asylum and human rights law, which led him to immigration work over the last few years.
Adan Cerda (3L)
Adan was born and raised mostly in Southern California, but recently came from the Phoenix-area. He attended high school and undergrad in Arizona (ASU). Adan studied economics and got really into developmental economics. To him, it didn't make sense that countries continued to struggle even though there were some sound economic principles that could be used to develop greater wealth and hence a greater standard of living for its residence. He believes the problem often came from non-economic factors including politics, culture, infrastructure. Adan came to law school because he thought it would give me the greatest leverage for future change in other countries and in our own country. Specifically, he wanted to work on international affairs in Mexico, but his interests are not exclusively with Mexico or even with just Latin-American countries.
Megan Strobel (2L)
Megan grew up in central Wisconsin. She did her undergrad at UW-Madison where she double majored in legal studies and psychology. She came to Drexel for their joint law/psych program. She is really interested in the interplay between law and psychology. This is her second year in the program, and really enjoys it. Eventually, she would like to do mental health policy work.
Giselle Aloi (2L)
Giselle is a permanent residence of Texas although she has not lived there in almost five years. However, that is the state where she attended high school and ultimately obtained her BA in History and Art History. Right after graduating, she packed up two suitcases and headed out, alone, to Asia where she carved out a life in Taipei, Taiwan. She left her travels only to come to law school hoping to gain a degree that can meld her love for travel and her passion for helping those less fortunate. After graduation there is no doubt that she will return to her ravels but this time she hopes to be more focused and better equipped.
Lydia Abdo (2L)
Lydia is from Southern Illinois -- a teeny tiny town in the middle of cows and cornfields called Harrisburg, near Carbondale (Southern Illinois University? Salukis for college sports followers?) and in between St. Louis MO and Nashville TN (each about three hours from my house). She studied music and English in undergrad, and minored in modern Middle Eastern studies (my parents are from Lebanon and Syria). Don't let her majors fool you -- she's wanted to be a lawyer since she was 3.
Claudia Shank (2L)
Claudia is from Lancaster Pennsylvania. She still lives in Lancaster with her husband, and commutes to Drexel every day. She went to West Chester University (about 30 minutes outside Philadelphia) where she studied Communications and minored in Russian and studio art. As an undergraduate she got her first taste of travel when she went to China through a program at her university. Although she'd always considered law school, she started doing a lot of volunteer work as an undergrad and became very interested in social justice issues which spurred her on to come to Drexel.
When: March 13, 2011 - March 19, 2011
Where: Port-au-Prince, Haiti
Why: Creation of a human rights report
How: Interview of local residents and non-governmental organizations
Yuan Tang (3L)
Yuan was born in China and came to the United States at the age of 6. She has always lived in or around the Philadelphia area. She went to undergrad at Penn State's main campus where she got degrees in Psychology and Advertising with a minor in Sociology. After college she did Teach For America for three years where she taught middle school special education in North Philadelphia. During that time, she pursued a Master's in Education and then came to law school after her teaching experiences. She never thought she would come to law school but am glad that she did. She came to law school because of her deep commitment to justice and the underserved in the American society and the world.
Ted Oswald (3L)
Ted is from a suburb near Sacramento, California. He went to undergrad and studied international relations at the University of California, Davis, and had a life-changing trip to Egypt late in his college career. Ted returned to Egypt and completed a grad program in refugee studies which gave him lots of opportunities to learn from and live with Sudanese in Cairo. He started at Drexel shortly thereafter with an interest in asylum and human rights law, which led him to immigration work over the last few years.
Adan Cerda (3L)
Adan was born and raised mostly in Southern California, but recently came from the Phoenix-area. He attended high school and undergrad in Arizona (ASU). Adan studied economics and got really into developmental economics. To him, it didn't make sense that countries continued to struggle even though there were some sound economic principles that could be used to develop greater wealth and hence a greater standard of living for its residence. He believes the problem often came from non-economic factors including politics, culture, infrastructure. Adan came to law school because he thought it would give me the greatest leverage for future change in other countries and in our own country. Specifically, he wanted to work on international affairs in Mexico, but his interests are not exclusively with Mexico or even with just Latin-American countries.
Megan Strobel (2L)
Megan grew up in central Wisconsin. She did her undergrad at UW-Madison where she double majored in legal studies and psychology. She came to Drexel for their joint law/psych program. She is really interested in the interplay between law and psychology. This is her second year in the program, and really enjoys it. Eventually, she would like to do mental health policy work.
Giselle Aloi (2L)
Giselle is a permanent residence of Texas although she has not lived there in almost five years. However, that is the state where she attended high school and ultimately obtained her BA in History and Art History. Right after graduating, she packed up two suitcases and headed out, alone, to Asia where she carved out a life in Taipei, Taiwan. She left her travels only to come to law school hoping to gain a degree that can meld her love for travel and her passion for helping those less fortunate. After graduation there is no doubt that she will return to her ravels but this time she hopes to be more focused and better equipped.
Lydia Abdo (2L)
Lydia is from Southern Illinois -- a teeny tiny town in the middle of cows and cornfields called Harrisburg, near Carbondale (Southern Illinois University? Salukis for college sports followers?) and in between St. Louis MO and Nashville TN (each about three hours from my house). She studied music and English in undergrad, and minored in modern Middle Eastern studies (my parents are from Lebanon and Syria). Don't let her majors fool you -- she's wanted to be a lawyer since she was 3.
Claudia Shank (2L)
Claudia is from Lancaster Pennsylvania. She still lives in Lancaster with her husband, and commutes to Drexel every day. She went to West Chester University (about 30 minutes outside Philadelphia) where she studied Communications and minored in Russian and studio art. As an undergraduate she got her first taste of travel when she went to China through a program at her university. Although she'd always considered law school, she started doing a lot of volunteer work as an undergrad and became very interested in social justice issues which spurred her on to come to Drexel.
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