Today while visiting the schools in preparation for our mid-line measurements starting next week, my team got a great surprise. My first week in Haiti at one of the schools I spotted a severely malnourished boy. Not only was he extremely stunted (about the same height as a two year old child), his skin was loose and had a ashy color, his energy level was non-existent (what kid doesn’t at least get up for recess?) and he had a fever. All of these are signs of some sort of micronutrient/nutritional problem but put them together and they indicate a possible larger problem of severe micronutrient deficiency.
In other words, this kid was stunted because he didn’t get enough calcium and vitamins a-c-d-k when he was an infant and young child. This could be because his mother stopped breastfeeding before six months or introduced food too early or didn’t watch him eat when he was old enough to eat without assistance or any combination. His skin – the most important barrier in preventing foreign objects like germs, parasites, infection into your body – was poor because he hasn’t had enough vitamin a & c as well as zinc over the years to the point where this barrier is easily broken. Dehydration also impacts the skin. His energy level was low because not only was he not getting enough food, he wasn’t getting enough of the right food such as fruits and vegatables. The Haitian diet is largely made up of rice, corn and beans. Vegetables like carrots, tomatoes, and pumpkin can be bought, but they can get expensive and are not always in the best condition. The fever that he had was most likely due to the fact that he had several infections that hadn’t been treated. These could have come from simple scrapes or mosquito bites or whatever. Your body needs vitamin a and others to fight of infections. When you have little to no vitamin a guess what – you get sick easily.
Besides all of these visible signs that I noticed right away he also likely had others. Diarrhea is common in undernourished children because they are dehydrated, have chronic infections and other illnesses and live in poor living conditions. The water quality in Haiti is also poor – it’s full of ecolli, giardia, amoebas, and other parasites besides dirt, shit and trash. If you drink it, you bet – diarrhea becomes pretty normal. Similarly, sanitation is also more than lacking. The neighborhood this boy lives in is one of the poorest in Cap-Haitien. Many families don’t have latrines (pit toilets you squat to use) and in fact share a common block toilet. (Imagine sharing two or three toilets with your fellow neighbors up and down the street. Now imagine you all have diarrhea and still can only use those latrines. Think they are adequate? They’re not.
So why the digression from nutrition to water and sanitation? Well, they’re intimately connected. You could be the most well-nourished person in the world but if you get diarrhea and don’t treat it, all those vitamins and minerals go out the um, well you know...back end. So while it’s important to be well-nourished, getting enough vitamin a,b’s, c, d,k and minerals like iron and zinc into your system, it’s just as important to be able to ensure they get used by your body and not flushed out.
An over-simplification of micronutrients, but hopefully you understand the complexity of this boy’s situation. He’s been chronically undernourished his whole life and his living conditions are setting him up for chronic illnesses that prevent him from absorbing the things he needs to get better. So he’s sick. And when I spotted him, the team realized that we needed to do something.
While part of the study is to monitor attendance and the health of the participants, there is also a line which we cross if a child is particularly in need of attention. For example, a child misses two days of school because he has a bad stomach ache. We make a note of it but we don’t call all hands on deck. However, a child has shown signs of malaria and has been absent for two weeks. That is more likely to get our attention and we’ll act by taking him to the hospital one way or another (either our nursing team will, school staff, parents, etc). This kid fell into the latter category – he needed to be seen by a doctor and treated right away. So the very next week, one of our fabulous and amazing nurses took him to the hospital where he was diagnosed as malnourished (he was in the 2% for children age 3. This child happened to be SIX YEARS OLD. That malnourished.) as well as having severe infections. He was given antibiotics and his parents were instructed to feed him a specific diet which included meat, dairy products, eggs, and vegetables.
Chances are, the whole family is undernourished. He has three older brothers at the same school as well as four younger siblings. It’s a lot of mouths to feed no matter what country you live in. In Haiti, getting adequate amounts and qualities of food is especially challenging. So, educating parents as well as kids is important. That’s what our nurse did. She talked with the parents and told them what the boy needed in order to get better. And although the parents have hardly any disposable income (really, none at all) they began sending 10 Gourd to school with the boys to buy snacks while at school.
Since these boys are already in the study and are receiving the fortified peanut butter (one of the experimental groups if you remember a previous post) this money can be spent on additional snack food. The nurse in charge of this school – being proactive and diligent noticed this and pulled the oldest brother aside to instruct him what to buy. 5 Gourd is to be spent on bread so that they can put the peanut butter on it (making it more filling) and the remaining 5 Gourd is spent on frozen milk or something similar which is mostly eaten by the youngest brother (the malnourished one). This happened within my first two weeks of being in Haiti.
Having been here for over a month now, I have gotten pretty busy and the little boy, though never completely out of mind has been pushed aside for other things. But today, as I was visiting the school early in the morning before it started I could see three boys running late. I yelled for them to hurry up and as they got to the school I noticed that it was the little boy and two of his brothers. Quelle surprise! The boy was running! A normal thing for a kid to do, but for a little boy who two weeks ago didn’t even get up for recess but preferred to sit this was a sight to see. His whole demeanor was different – he was smiling, talking and engaged.
It was so good to see and got me and my two colleagues pumped up for the rest of the day. Granted, we didn’t do much for him besides get him to the hospital, the fact that he has changed since going to the hospital is encouraging. The school staff, especially the director has been supportive of our project and has begun improvement to the school such as purchasing a water pump and filter for drinking and handwashing (with clean water!), the parents are sending extra money for a mid-day snack for their kids, the nurse is ensuring that he eats the whole peanut butter packet – all of these things are giving him a chance to get better. I can’t wait to see him again.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Call me spiderwoman
I’m sharing this mostly because I just found out how incredibly stupid I was. Which really isn’t too much of a surprise but still. I have a brain, a pretty good one with rational thought and plenty of logical reasoning capabilities. Yet, I seemed to forget all that and acted like a fool. So I wake up last Saturday kinda late. By late I mean 6:30 as the sun literally shines in my faces too bright to sleep any longer. And yes, that is sleeping in. I usually get up at 4:45. So, sleeping in and taking full advantage of a lazy Saturday I go over to my kitchen to make a little French press coffee and an omelet. There, in my sink, clinging with all eight legs to my French press is a spider. A big spider. Like huge. Like Hobbit eating big.
Not being able to control the girlish shriek that came out of my mouth I then proceeded to do a special heevy-jeevy dance all around my apartment. Then, realizing that yes, I am all alone and yes, that big-ass spider is real- I, me, moi, mwen- I was the one that needed to take care of it. So I thought about my options:
1) Kill the spider
2) Catch the spider, and like the crickets that I capture, fling it from my balcony
3) Leave my apartment for the day in hopes that the spider was just passing through. Then proceed to lay awake for the remainder of my time here in pure fear of waking up face to face with one.
4) Run away, run fast! Move into a new apartment, this one is definitely occupied
Then I weighed my options:
1) If I kill it, how would I do it…shoe? Bazooka? Mustard gas? What if it didn’t die and I made it angry and it came at me like a spider monkey? What if its guts exploded everywhere? And to kill it, I would have to get close. Very close.
2) Catching it, super easy. I have a cup that is reserved exclusively for this activity. Although I only use it for crickets. So getting a much bigger animal into it? Hmm… then how will it be transported without leaving said cup and crawling up my arm to my face?
3) This is not an option. I treasure my sleep and do not want to revisit the week after the mamba was killed behind my hut laying on my bed in pure terror. I had nightmares that a snake a la basilisk style would surround me in my sleep and slowly digest me over the hot season. I can only imagine similar nightmares as a monster spider gingerly weaves a web around me and turns my insides to jelly. Plus, what if the spider, misreading my lack of action in getting rid of it decides to become a permanent resident?
4) There is nowhere to run.
And what did I do with my options? I choose option 1. It. Must. Not. Live. But rather than pick up my one of my heavy shoes, or a brick, or anything that was heavy I choose… a knife. Yes, I picked up a knife and decided that stabbing it to death was my best option. Like I said before, rational thinking did not occur to me. It was a big spider. So with knife in hand I took a couple of deep breaths (somewhere off in the distance I’m pretty sure that Eye of the Tiger was playing) and made my attack. With one terrifying and expertly placed swiped I cut the thing in half. (Nevermind I could feel it struggling beneath me). But then… the front half ran away. Yes, that’s right. The front half of the spider aka the head and four legs ran away. Cutting it in half didn’t kill it. So what’s a girl gotta do to kill a damn spider? Stab it! And yes, that did kill the front half of the spider.
I figured that the spider was just a small baby tarantula. They’re relatively common in the area near my apartment so I figured, cool. A tarantula. I’ve never seen one in the wild. Granted the “wild” doesn’t really mean my kitchen sink, but hey – it’s exotic. I’m really in it now! No, just for fun this morning I looked up pictures of tarantulas and spiders in Haiti and guess what? It wasn’t one. Nope, I had decided to go head to head with a brown recluse. Yep. And not just any brown recluse. I mother-giant of one. Yea, super venomous and I should have probably chosen any other option other than option 1 because guess what – brown recluse spiders can still live even after they lose part of their body. Chopping it in half does not kill a brown recluse, rather, it pisses it off.
After reading up on my little dead friend, I learned the following; I have created a brown recluse haven in my apartment. It’s the right temperature, there are places to hide (under the cabinets, in the clothes piled on my bed, in my dresser, under my bed) and plenty of things to eat. Guess who’s super cleaning her place this weekend? That’s right, this girl. And I won’t be chopping things in half anymore – the shoe it is! And maybe a little bit more rational thinking.
Not being able to control the girlish shriek that came out of my mouth I then proceeded to do a special heevy-jeevy dance all around my apartment. Then, realizing that yes, I am all alone and yes, that big-ass spider is real- I, me, moi, mwen- I was the one that needed to take care of it. So I thought about my options:
1) Kill the spider
2) Catch the spider, and like the crickets that I capture, fling it from my balcony
3) Leave my apartment for the day in hopes that the spider was just passing through. Then proceed to lay awake for the remainder of my time here in pure fear of waking up face to face with one.
4) Run away, run fast! Move into a new apartment, this one is definitely occupied
Then I weighed my options:
1) If I kill it, how would I do it…shoe? Bazooka? Mustard gas? What if it didn’t die and I made it angry and it came at me like a spider monkey? What if its guts exploded everywhere? And to kill it, I would have to get close. Very close.
2) Catching it, super easy. I have a cup that is reserved exclusively for this activity. Although I only use it for crickets. So getting a much bigger animal into it? Hmm… then how will it be transported without leaving said cup and crawling up my arm to my face?
3) This is not an option. I treasure my sleep and do not want to revisit the week after the mamba was killed behind my hut laying on my bed in pure terror. I had nightmares that a snake a la basilisk style would surround me in my sleep and slowly digest me over the hot season. I can only imagine similar nightmares as a monster spider gingerly weaves a web around me and turns my insides to jelly. Plus, what if the spider, misreading my lack of action in getting rid of it decides to become a permanent resident?
4) There is nowhere to run.
And what did I do with my options? I choose option 1. It. Must. Not. Live. But rather than pick up my one of my heavy shoes, or a brick, or anything that was heavy I choose… a knife. Yes, I picked up a knife and decided that stabbing it to death was my best option. Like I said before, rational thinking did not occur to me. It was a big spider. So with knife in hand I took a couple of deep breaths (somewhere off in the distance I’m pretty sure that Eye of the Tiger was playing) and made my attack. With one terrifying and expertly placed swiped I cut the thing in half. (Nevermind I could feel it struggling beneath me). But then… the front half ran away. Yes, that’s right. The front half of the spider aka the head and four legs ran away. Cutting it in half didn’t kill it. So what’s a girl gotta do to kill a damn spider? Stab it! And yes, that did kill the front half of the spider.
I figured that the spider was just a small baby tarantula. They’re relatively common in the area near my apartment so I figured, cool. A tarantula. I’ve never seen one in the wild. Granted the “wild” doesn’t really mean my kitchen sink, but hey – it’s exotic. I’m really in it now! No, just for fun this morning I looked up pictures of tarantulas and spiders in Haiti and guess what? It wasn’t one. Nope, I had decided to go head to head with a brown recluse. Yep. And not just any brown recluse. I mother-giant of one. Yea, super venomous and I should have probably chosen any other option other than option 1 because guess what – brown recluse spiders can still live even after they lose part of their body. Chopping it in half does not kill a brown recluse, rather, it pisses it off.
After reading up on my little dead friend, I learned the following; I have created a brown recluse haven in my apartment. It’s the right temperature, there are places to hide (under the cabinets, in the clothes piled on my bed, in my dresser, under my bed) and plenty of things to eat. Guess who’s super cleaning her place this weekend? That’s right, this girl. And I won’t be chopping things in half anymore – the shoe it is! And maybe a little bit more rational thinking.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Enjoying the Market
There are two markets in Cap-Haitien, one that is smaller and closer to my apartment and the other that is in the center of town, offering everything you could ever need. (That’s not exactly quite true, but it’s huge). Both of these markets have their advantages; while the smaller market has fewer people and crowds, the selection is often limited. The big market has that selection but also has people everywhere all jostling for whatever it is they need. I’ve actually always enjoyed the market. In Senegal, I lived for Sundays—my village’s lumo or market days. I would be able to stock up on bananas for the kids, peanut butter or peanuts for an awesome dinner, and other fruits and veggies. Plus, there were fatayas to eat, frozen milk to gobble up and an over-stuffed car to ride. Even in Podor or Ndioum, the market was always bustling. Walking through the market and seeing the first tomatoes or lettuce of the season always brought a feeling of disbelief mixed with joy. And finding women to shop from over and over again, built up a nice report where I often got a cadeau or gift in return for my patronage.
Though not as easily, I still enjoy the markets here. Part of it is I have yet to master the art of Creole bargaining, although I have been improving each time. Part of it is that they are different enough where I still haven’t found that good ‘ole market rhythm. However, I do enjoy walking around the market, seeing all the oranges and limes and the bright splotches of tomatoes. It is mostly women who work at the market, selling produce or fish or dry goods like rice. So, I enjoy visiting with them as well. I call them Madame, they call me Cherie and I buy my week’s worth of eggs, rice, beans, etc. While there aren’t fatayas here to eat, I have been exploring my options for my go to market snack. There is something called pate pike which is a hot-pocket like item stuffed with a spicy sauce. Fried plantains are also plentiful and each vendor seems to have their own topping.
Exploring the markets, I have wandered upon the area the sells charcoal, mounds of them covering the ground while you walk in between them. The meat area will have pieces of chicken for sale-even a whole chicken if you get it early enough—as well as mutton and beef. The fish market is teeming with the mornings catches- various fish caught with nets, spears and poles. There are always ladies with large basins next to them full of live crab or shrimp. Besides fresh food, there are the dry good vendors who have large sacks full of rice, beans, corn, flour, pasta plus the other items needed to make a tasty meal. Then there are the other vendors who sell soap, powdered milk, paper towels and the like.
At times, the market can seem like a sensory overload. There, fish mixes with citrus, mixes with old vegetables, mixes with garbage. It’s not a pleasant smell and it can easily overwhelm you. Plus, there are always people around, pushing and shoving and working their way through the narrow paths. Plus the noise that comes from small spaces, people shouting and trying to get your attention. But, if you’re able to zone out and push all of the distractions and unpleasant things aside you just might be able to enjoy it.
Though not as easily, I still enjoy the markets here. Part of it is I have yet to master the art of Creole bargaining, although I have been improving each time. Part of it is that they are different enough where I still haven’t found that good ‘ole market rhythm. However, I do enjoy walking around the market, seeing all the oranges and limes and the bright splotches of tomatoes. It is mostly women who work at the market, selling produce or fish or dry goods like rice. So, I enjoy visiting with them as well. I call them Madame, they call me Cherie and I buy my week’s worth of eggs, rice, beans, etc. While there aren’t fatayas here to eat, I have been exploring my options for my go to market snack. There is something called pate pike which is a hot-pocket like item stuffed with a spicy sauce. Fried plantains are also plentiful and each vendor seems to have their own topping.
Exploring the markets, I have wandered upon the area the sells charcoal, mounds of them covering the ground while you walk in between them. The meat area will have pieces of chicken for sale-even a whole chicken if you get it early enough—as well as mutton and beef. The fish market is teeming with the mornings catches- various fish caught with nets, spears and poles. There are always ladies with large basins next to them full of live crab or shrimp. Besides fresh food, there are the dry good vendors who have large sacks full of rice, beans, corn, flour, pasta plus the other items needed to make a tasty meal. Then there are the other vendors who sell soap, powdered milk, paper towels and the like.
At times, the market can seem like a sensory overload. There, fish mixes with citrus, mixes with old vegetables, mixes with garbage. It’s not a pleasant smell and it can easily overwhelm you. Plus, there are always people around, pushing and shoving and working their way through the narrow paths. Plus the noise that comes from small spaces, people shouting and trying to get your attention. But, if you’re able to zone out and push all of the distractions and unpleasant things aside you just might be able to enjoy it.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Carnival!
What do vampires, donkey riding Jesus, and stilt walkers have in common? Why nothing, of course, but at Karnaval they all seem to find their own place in the festivities. This past week, while most of us celebrate Mardi Gras, a day of gluttonous indulging, the Caribbean and other pockets of Creole in the world (New Orleans, for example) celebrate Carinval (Karnaval if you’re of the Haitian persuasion). And this year, Karnaval just so happened to be in Cap-Haitien. And it was quite the week.
Preparations for Karnaval have been occurring for the last two months – roads have been improved, trash cleaned from the streets, buildings painted and spruced up, and decorations strung up everywhere. It is an exciting sight to see – mostly because the city will benefit from these improvements for far longer than just this week. Although Karnaval is traditionally held in Port-au-Prince, President Martelly has moved festivities to different regions throughout the country over the past few years. This provides these regions with infrastructure improvements and gives them recognition for their uniqueness.
So officially, Karnaval began on Sunday, but the two weeks before were mini-vals in getting everyone super siked for the real deal. This amounted to people dressed in costumes walking down the middle of the street and congesting traffic blowing whistles and other things. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday night, things really kicked up with parades, music (live bands and the standard hot new single playing ear bleeding loud on repeat). Parades a plenty, each major musician in Haiti gets their own float and they basically battle of the bands it out until one is declared the winner. This happens at about midnight to dawn every night but especially on Tuesday night. During the day other parades happen and these are a hodge-podge of all things Haiti. One group will be voodoo vampires with little bats following them everywhere. While the next group might be dancers dressed up in bright green and yellow costumes. Other groups might dress up mock current politicains or the military, while others might cover themselves in sugar cane or other plants. Taken separately, each group of people seem to be its own parade but together they all make up what is good and bad about Haiti and it all fits together. (Think of it being a Fourth of July, Halloween, Arbor Day, Macy’s Day, and election campaign parade all in one…. aka what is both awesome and annoying about America).
So what is Karnaval? What is the purpose of dressing up in costumes, playing music, and having parades for days on end in the middle of the night? Well, Karnaval, like Mardi Gras occurs right before Lent ending on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. It’s celebrated all over the world, particularly in countries with strong Catholic leanings. The event is a huge block party, masquerade, parade, etc and meant to prepare everyone for a period of prayer, fasting, reflection…. While Karnaval in Europe mostly focuses on the celebration before Lent, Caribbean Karnaval and particularly Haiti uses the event for more than just a religious celebration. It is a time when the people can dress up in costume and mock politicians and the government, bring awareness to a social problem, organize people around an issue, and celebrate their country.
My time at Karnaval was spent in the day for a number of reasons; I didn’t feel like getting pick-pocketed, I wanted to actually be able to see the costumes and everything, and I wanted to be able to leave when it got loud, crowded, sensory overwhelming. At night, you pretty much get stuck there so I played it straight up Golden Girls style and was in early and out by dark. Still, I got to see so much and share the festivities with many. I watched one of the parades for a while, made friends with a Haiti Boy Scout who was volunteering for security. Learned way more about Karnaval and Haiti from him than I did via guys from work and my own research and he was delighted that he was basically our private tour guide for three hours. My favorite floats and groups of people were a social movement group who did military like exercises about Haiti “We fall down, We crawl through it, We get back up, We stand together, We move forward”. (Yes, it moved my olive clothed Che-loving heart close to revolutionary tears). I also loved all of the different dancing. Some troupes danced more traditional and had drummers with them while others made their area just one big party and invited everyone to dance with them. It was a great couple of hours to watch and see and experience. Plus, I got a Prestige shirt which pretty much the most awesome thing. I’m now one of the cool kids.
It might sound that Karnaval is all puppies and roses, and while it was a great party, it did have its controversy. Without being too political or one-sided – and fully acknowledging that it is pretty much impossible for me to do that I will try to explain. Martelly is a well-known Haitian singer, alias “Sweet Mickey”. He became famous for his anti-government songs and the theatrical way he mocked political leaders back in the day. Now as President, this year he banned nine bands from performing at Karnaval because of their own political leanings (aka – they don’t agree with how Martelly is running things). One of the band members was his own cousin. A bit hypocritical you might think? Well, yes. And many Haitians felt the same way. Though it was estimated that over three million people would be at Karnaval this year, maybe half showed up. And while I can’t speak to the night’s events or the days when I wasn’t there, the people I did talk to seemed a little nervous about speaking to openly and loudly against Martelly. Anyways, despite the controversy and despite the low-turnout (which still seemed like a lot of people to me) Karnaval was great fun and I’m more than happy I was in Cap to celebrate.
Preparations for Karnaval have been occurring for the last two months – roads have been improved, trash cleaned from the streets, buildings painted and spruced up, and decorations strung up everywhere. It is an exciting sight to see – mostly because the city will benefit from these improvements for far longer than just this week. Although Karnaval is traditionally held in Port-au-Prince, President Martelly has moved festivities to different regions throughout the country over the past few years. This provides these regions with infrastructure improvements and gives them recognition for their uniqueness.
So officially, Karnaval began on Sunday, but the two weeks before were mini-vals in getting everyone super siked for the real deal. This amounted to people dressed in costumes walking down the middle of the street and congesting traffic blowing whistles and other things. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday night, things really kicked up with parades, music (live bands and the standard hot new single playing ear bleeding loud on repeat). Parades a plenty, each major musician in Haiti gets their own float and they basically battle of the bands it out until one is declared the winner. This happens at about midnight to dawn every night but especially on Tuesday night. During the day other parades happen and these are a hodge-podge of all things Haiti. One group will be voodoo vampires with little bats following them everywhere. While the next group might be dancers dressed up in bright green and yellow costumes. Other groups might dress up mock current politicains or the military, while others might cover themselves in sugar cane or other plants. Taken separately, each group of people seem to be its own parade but together they all make up what is good and bad about Haiti and it all fits together. (Think of it being a Fourth of July, Halloween, Arbor Day, Macy’s Day, and election campaign parade all in one…. aka what is both awesome and annoying about America).
So what is Karnaval? What is the purpose of dressing up in costumes, playing music, and having parades for days on end in the middle of the night? Well, Karnaval, like Mardi Gras occurs right before Lent ending on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. It’s celebrated all over the world, particularly in countries with strong Catholic leanings. The event is a huge block party, masquerade, parade, etc and meant to prepare everyone for a period of prayer, fasting, reflection…. While Karnaval in Europe mostly focuses on the celebration before Lent, Caribbean Karnaval and particularly Haiti uses the event for more than just a religious celebration. It is a time when the people can dress up in costume and mock politicians and the government, bring awareness to a social problem, organize people around an issue, and celebrate their country.
My time at Karnaval was spent in the day for a number of reasons; I didn’t feel like getting pick-pocketed, I wanted to actually be able to see the costumes and everything, and I wanted to be able to leave when it got loud, crowded, sensory overwhelming. At night, you pretty much get stuck there so I played it straight up Golden Girls style and was in early and out by dark. Still, I got to see so much and share the festivities with many. I watched one of the parades for a while, made friends with a Haiti Boy Scout who was volunteering for security. Learned way more about Karnaval and Haiti from him than I did via guys from work and my own research and he was delighted that he was basically our private tour guide for three hours. My favorite floats and groups of people were a social movement group who did military like exercises about Haiti “We fall down, We crawl through it, We get back up, We stand together, We move forward”. (Yes, it moved my olive clothed Che-loving heart close to revolutionary tears). I also loved all of the different dancing. Some troupes danced more traditional and had drummers with them while others made their area just one big party and invited everyone to dance with them. It was a great couple of hours to watch and see and experience. Plus, I got a Prestige shirt which pretty much the most awesome thing. I’m now one of the cool kids.
It might sound that Karnaval is all puppies and roses, and while it was a great party, it did have its controversy. Without being too political or one-sided – and fully acknowledging that it is pretty much impossible for me to do that I will try to explain. Martelly is a well-known Haitian singer, alias “Sweet Mickey”. He became famous for his anti-government songs and the theatrical way he mocked political leaders back in the day. Now as President, this year he banned nine bands from performing at Karnaval because of their own political leanings (aka – they don’t agree with how Martelly is running things). One of the band members was his own cousin. A bit hypocritical you might think? Well, yes. And many Haitians felt the same way. Though it was estimated that over three million people would be at Karnaval this year, maybe half showed up. And while I can’t speak to the night’s events or the days when I wasn’t there, the people I did talk to seemed a little nervous about speaking to openly and loudly against Martelly. Anyways, despite the controversy and despite the low-turnout (which still seemed like a lot of people to me) Karnaval was great fun and I’m more than happy I was in Cap to celebrate.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
First Impressions
I figure as much as quasi-experimental designs and the nerd level discussions on the amazing profession of public health appeal to a small population, more writing on the country itself and my adventures in it would appeal to that wider range (you know, that 95% of you). So for every work-ish or nerdy post I write about peanut butter I will do my best to write one about Haiti itself. Although I have only been here a week I have gotten to explore and have a few adventures already and gotten right into the groove that is working in Haiti.
Language: Haiti has two official languages; French and Creole. While French is mostly spoken in Port-au-Prince (or so I’ve been told) I have been able to speak it to most anyone here which has helped me in work as much as getting moutard from the boutique. Haitian Creole does use a number of French words, and while they may not be spelled the same (for example, every letter you write in Creole you say which makes complete sense) the pronunciation is so similar. For example; l’ecole (school in French) becomes lekol in Creole. I have been able to understand a bit of Creole and I actually think my “dirty” French helps me because I don’t always use correct grammar and can pick up on Creole words easy. Anyways, the language is really interesting and I’m excited to be learning it.
Apartment: I have a place to live! And it is not full of termites or scorpions or toads or has a mamba that hangs out back! And a working toilet…indoors! Seriously, I knew that I would have an apartment when I got here and that it was considered “really nice” but Haitian standards. However, I was not expecting how truly nice it is and it feels like a little oasis. It’s breezy and cool; I have a little kitchen area complete with fridge, oven and sink and a balcony that has quickly become my favorite spot.
Market: I was expecting something similar to our lumo days up north or the market I frequented in NDioum where everyone is calling out to you and it is crowed and overwhelming. However, the small market that is nearest my apartment is quite lovely. Yes, it can be crowded at times, but I haven’t felt rushed or overwhelmed yet. Although I have yet to figure out the real prices for things.
Driving: The roads here are currently getting a huge makeover because Carnival will be in Cap this year instead of Port au Prince. This means that there are construction crews out constantly paving, rolling, hammering away and usually during the rush hour traffic. Though it isn’t anything I’m not used to (reminds me a lot of the Ponty in Dakar) there are always surprises. Like the recent installment of four traffic lights throughout the city, one on a street with no intersections. Traffic is more polite here though and I’m not in constant fear that we will either hit a goat, a cow, a child, another car, or the person sitting next to me in the back.
Beach: The beach, the beach, the glorious beach. Just a short drive away from the city is literally paradise. Just drive up a mountain and down the other side and bam- right there is a long beach with clear blue water, a waiter that serves you the beach rum drink you will ever have and a lounge chair that you won’t want to get up from. I never knew this about Haiti- it has great beaches and some beautiful landscapes and I can’t wait to find more!
Language: Haiti has two official languages; French and Creole. While French is mostly spoken in Port-au-Prince (or so I’ve been told) I have been able to speak it to most anyone here which has helped me in work as much as getting moutard from the boutique. Haitian Creole does use a number of French words, and while they may not be spelled the same (for example, every letter you write in Creole you say which makes complete sense) the pronunciation is so similar. For example; l’ecole (school in French) becomes lekol in Creole. I have been able to understand a bit of Creole and I actually think my “dirty” French helps me because I don’t always use correct grammar and can pick up on Creole words easy. Anyways, the language is really interesting and I’m excited to be learning it.
Apartment: I have a place to live! And it is not full of termites or scorpions or toads or has a mamba that hangs out back! And a working toilet…indoors! Seriously, I knew that I would have an apartment when I got here and that it was considered “really nice” but Haitian standards. However, I was not expecting how truly nice it is and it feels like a little oasis. It’s breezy and cool; I have a little kitchen area complete with fridge, oven and sink and a balcony that has quickly become my favorite spot.
Market: I was expecting something similar to our lumo days up north or the market I frequented in NDioum where everyone is calling out to you and it is crowed and overwhelming. However, the small market that is nearest my apartment is quite lovely. Yes, it can be crowded at times, but I haven’t felt rushed or overwhelmed yet. Although I have yet to figure out the real prices for things.
Driving: The roads here are currently getting a huge makeover because Carnival will be in Cap this year instead of Port au Prince. This means that there are construction crews out constantly paving, rolling, hammering away and usually during the rush hour traffic. Though it isn’t anything I’m not used to (reminds me a lot of the Ponty in Dakar) there are always surprises. Like the recent installment of four traffic lights throughout the city, one on a street with no intersections. Traffic is more polite here though and I’m not in constant fear that we will either hit a goat, a cow, a child, another car, or the person sitting next to me in the back.
Beach: The beach, the beach, the glorious beach. Just a short drive away from the city is literally paradise. Just drive up a mountain and down the other side and bam- right there is a long beach with clear blue water, a waiter that serves you the beach rum drink you will ever have and a lounge chair that you won’t want to get up from. I never knew this about Haiti- it has great beaches and some beautiful landscapes and I can’t wait to find more!
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