The Haitan boys love hiphop. They always ask me who I love. My hiphop days were when I was your age I tell them. I try to sing the younger ones the lyrics from the original version of Wavin Flag by K’naan. Oooohh rings through the house. The kids are addicted to the soccer matches. Cheers and noise are heard throughout the house when the match is on. There is a earthquake remix that sounds like beats from a club that resonates throughout the house. Akon plays in the kitchen everyday. The words from his song freedom glue to my head. We celebrate fourth of July with the group from Atlanta and Denver who have come for a week. Many of the boys here have been trained by professional dancers in theatre. They do an entire show for us. The boys in the house are lean and in shape. Their bodies are toned and their muscles defined from hard work, dancing and sports. They end with a play about George Washington. They always amuse us in different ways. We sing the house song, Peace on earth starts with me and eat cake and drink soda. I am happy they are happy. The guests have brought much life with their projects to the house. The house was already loud enough with 25 boys and another 10 staff with house rowdy and much awake and alive from at 5am to 9pm.
I know many of my students from the home learned different English words from hiphop songs. One of them writes lyrics for me on the board after class. I wonder if he realizes how violent they are. Another time he asks me certain phrases. Other than a meshing of negative promotion I feel hiphop has touched different parts of the world in different ways. Just like a waving flag remix and Akon songs that we hear everyday.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Panic
One of the boys busts his chin earlier. They stitch him up. Only so much blood is enough to make one panic. I wonder if there were pools of blood during the earthquake. I wonder if there was enough time to soak it up.
I thought there was no external panic here. I thought people just moved on. I was not alone. I wonder if the man, who left pools of blood at the hospital floor may die tomorrow. I wonder if he is the only one who may die the next day. I wonder what it was like during the earthquake. I sit in the waiting room peeping through the OR door. His mother is held by two men and taken to him as he is loaded into the ambulance to be transported to the capitol. Blood leaks out of his new bandage. He eases me. He sits calmly. I am calm. Blood drips, even after he is bandaged, fast then slow. He is taken away. I write a poem about him.
I thought there was no external panic here. I thought people just moved on. I was not alone. I wonder if the man, who left pools of blood at the hospital floor may die tomorrow. I wonder if he is the only one who may die the next day. I wonder what it was like during the earthquake. I sit in the waiting room peeping through the OR door. His mother is held by two men and taken to him as he is loaded into the ambulance to be transported to the capitol. Blood leaks out of his new bandage. He eases me. He sits calmly. I am calm. Blood drips, even after he is bandaged, fast then slow. He is taken away. I write a poem about him.
Learning creole
Language barriers make life hard. Perhaps they are also a good thing I tell myself, especially when it comes to teaching English. I stand the second day in front of my classroom. Today is the fourth. I feel like going back inside the house. I ask the students to open their notebooks. I show them what this means. I show them again and again. Nobody moves.. The students, half of them sit outside the tent blue tarp along the tree to their left that gives them a makeshift wall. A broken chalkboard stands behind me. The chalkboard behind me is already half broken. A crack runs along the left side cracking half way up, inching to the middle There are four bench tables. Luckily we are all in the shade. This is makeshift schooling post earthquake. Some students return with their books, some without.
Stars shine like white teeth
Hurricane season has brought much rain. But just simple rain. My mother used to say that she was told that rain washes the streets. The foam it brings is soap cleaning the streets and left a trace.
I have waited to see a Haitian person with unorganized teeth. They all seem to have been born with aligned brilliant straight shining teeth. I have yet to see one person with ugly teeth. I am on a search though.
One of the boys, Tr, has a smile, it is heaven sent. The first thing he asked me was why I always smile so big. I asked him to look at himself. Radiance resonates radiance.
I finally look up during the clear nights. The stars glow like white teeth in the dark. They are so bright and clear. I don’t remember the last time I saw stars sparkling like a painting in the sky. I am fascinated. I try to tell one of the boys, A, as we walk back. My arm rests over his shoulder. His smile is like the stars in the night sky. There is something about the Haitian smile. I wonder if I would have fallen in love with stars if they were always there.
I have waited to see a Haitian person with unorganized teeth. They all seem to have been born with aligned brilliant straight shining teeth. I have yet to see one person with ugly teeth. I am on a search though.
One of the boys, Tr, has a smile, it is heaven sent. The first thing he asked me was why I always smile so big. I asked him to look at himself. Radiance resonates radiance.
I finally look up during the clear nights. The stars glow like white teeth in the dark. They are so bright and clear. I don’t remember the last time I saw stars sparkling like a painting in the sky. I am fascinated. I try to tell one of the boys, A, as we walk back. My arm rests over his shoulder. His smile is like the stars in the night sky. There is something about the Haitian smile. I wonder if I would have fallen in love with stars if they were always there.
"Children are a poor man's riches" - Haitan proverb
Most things in Haiti are imported. Paying ten dollars for powder milk and shampoo and conditioner at a grocery store is a bit much I think. Third world standards don’t really seem to apply here though. I wonder how such things are afforded by the local people. I wonder if they even care for powder milk. Gas costs five US dollars a gallon. I see a Texaco on our way back through the city one night.
We stop by a local organization to get some information for students on families and growth. Most organizations set up in Haiti are about sex education.
I wonder if sex education and awareness have positive outcomes in Haiti. There are many programs and foreign NGOs aiming to educate people especially woman. AIDS is common. Households have multiple children. Birth control isn’t really a reality here. Monogamy is not common. Infant mortality is widespread. This is the Haitian culture. It is not one to consider inferior. It is inferior in the eyes of those who don’t understand the ways others live. It is what it is. I wonder if it was the same before. I wonder what it will become.
Education has a different concept here. There are many outreach programs to create awareness on nutrition and sex education. To reach an entire population is a outrageous task. To reach out and change an entire society is generations worth of effort, maybe forever is not so far away.
We stop by a local organization to get some information for students on families and growth. Most organizations set up in Haiti are about sex education.
I wonder if sex education and awareness have positive outcomes in Haiti. There are many programs and foreign NGOs aiming to educate people especially woman. AIDS is common. Households have multiple children. Birth control isn’t really a reality here. Monogamy is not common. Infant mortality is widespread. This is the Haitian culture. It is not one to consider inferior. It is inferior in the eyes of those who don’t understand the ways others live. It is what it is. I wonder if it was the same before. I wonder what it will become.
Education has a different concept here. There are many outreach programs to create awareness on nutrition and sex education. To reach an entire population is a outrageous task. To reach out and change an entire society is generations worth of effort, maybe forever is not so far away.
Relief Tourists
I wonder how many tourists Haiti has attracted after the earthquake. Jacmel is a tourist town. I think zero close to none. I read on a blog about tourists being in a hotel during the earthquake. So perhaps some have still existed in the recent past. I wonder if their sole purpose was tourism. I’m told the concept of tourists now for last many years in Haiti has become relief working tourists. I see American college students eating buffet dinner on the patio after their stay at the beach. They make a prayer before dinner. They talk about random things. I feel they are tourists, but I know better. We are also relief workers making a stop at the hotel to visit friends, for a nice night out.
I wonder if in life we ever imagined the idea of combining our relief work with the luxury to move away from the suffering around us. I wonder if this is fair. Rather, I wonder if this is possible. I wonder if I would want that life. There are many moments here where I feel like the UN or military, helpers by day, relaxers by night. Perhaps the limits of sanity have been expanded.
I wonder if in life we ever imagined the idea of combining our relief work with the luxury to move away from the suffering around us. I wonder if this is fair. Rather, I wonder if this is possible. I wonder if I would want that life. There are many moments here where I feel like the UN or military, helpers by day, relaxers by night. Perhaps the limits of sanity have been expanded.