Mom comes to Visit!

This blog will be the blog of the mom visit mostly because nothing too out of the ordinary happened between the last blog post.  Oh wait.  I guess I did spend a day with our engineer prospect.  And I do have the story of collecting a package sent from my darling brother and the lovely Caitlin Kiley (gf) (Side Note:  DO NOT SEND ME ANY PACKAGES.  Stay tuned to find out why) so let’s back that horse back up to last week. 

 

Late last week I came back from a hard day in the field to find a little slip of paper from the Haitian Post Office signed out to me.  After hearing horror stories from my co-worker about $20 fees for a few magazines that were sent to her I begrudgingly headed downtown in search of the post office.  Once found I headed across the grass lot to collect my package.  I was quickly steered over to four ladies sitting at a fold up table conveniently located under a tree in the yard.  They had a box that said “Post Office”.  Then after much hand motioning, blank stares and “m pa pale kreyol” I was directed back to the tent to pay my $5 (phew..only $5) to pick up my item.  Not a moment before I was starting to think ‘what a simple process is it to get a package in Haiti’ did I get directed to another building across the grass lot and across the street.  So close to my package…and yet so far away.  I wandered aimlessly into this building across the street past all the employees who were sitting outside in the shade.  One followed me inside and collected my ID.  After filling out a form equivalent in length to one’s home owners loan paperwork, I was marched back across the street to the back of the tent and ordered to sit (which was commanded to me in French, then Creole, and finally English before I figured out what I was expected to do) while the postman went in search of my package. 

My package was placed in front of me, I was asked something in French which I quickly replied “oui” to and then those nice postmen did me the favor of opening my package for me (so NICE of them…..) and rooted through each and every item.  I think they felt that to make the opening process a more fun surprise, it would be a grand idea to parade each item by my gaze and comment in French about how nice it was and how it would probably taste tremendous later.  I gave them an annoyed stare as I glanced down at the slip of the package they’d given me prior to opening the package which said plainly in English “candy, magazine, Gatorade”.  Upon completion of this process I sighed a deep sigh thinking FINALLY my package would be handed over since it contained no guns, drugs, or fruit and I would be on my merry way.  WRONG.  Once again I was marched away from my package (although this time open.  Wasn’t expecting much to be in it when I returned) and across the street to collect my receipt.  All receipts are hand written mind you.  Getting quite fed up with the “system” I rushed back across the street, picked up my package and just walked off.  Seemed to work.  Didn’t get arrested.  A few murmurs were directed towards me but I just kept walking.  Thanks muchos Brother dear and Caitlin for keeping me in my sweets and cliffbars while I’m here in Haiti and giving me something to write about in my blog!  That was fun to go through once.  Please no more gifts folks! 

Following the package incident came the day in the field with Engener Jacqlyn whom I learned many things and am STOKED to have fill my place if MCC feels that is the correct path to take.  He did a nice job of professionally and politely admitting that the work that was done in between when James left and I came (without supervision) was pretty poorly done and the reasons for it.  An engineer here in Haiti plays the part of engineer, architect, contractor, subcontractor, and sometimes as far down as the mason if they have to.  This means Engener Jacqlyn can pick out things I’m not used to picking out (like incorrect aggregate size for mortar in a final product) and giving me important recommendations from his experiences in the field (like the absolute necessity of renting a concrete mixer to get a proper mix ratio because it is simply too much work to do by hand and the masons just wont do it correctly).  Plus I got to practice my Creole because he spoke very little English!  I find myself following most conversations in construction pretty well these days but if the topic switches to “the weather is nice today” or “what did you do this weekend” I’m pretty lost.  Funny but this type of conversing doesn’t get you too far in the bar.  Or the office for that matter.  Bummer.  

So on to the mom visit.  We had a most fabulous time giggling away at the cultural differences here and jarring the snot out of ourselves driving around.  Mother now appreciates a good pothole.  Like a good loving daughter, I whisked her off from her redeye flight to a full day of affairs.  We visited Pastor Yvon and the church where I taught my workshop out in the countryside.  The next day we slept in tell 6am  and rose for church (in French) followed by amazing eggs and bacon from the local equivalent of McDonalds only with real eggs and real bacon.  Probably more grease though.  Haitians looooove their cooking oil.   Next it was off to the beach but not before buying peanut butter patties (sorta like a payday only a million times better)…..um 15 actually….for the two of us on our way out.  You never know when your car might break down.  

Monday Mom got to job shadow and meet the MCC staff.  We hit almost all the projects I had been working  since I’ve been here including some nice steep off-roading through downtown PAP.  This might become Mom’s new favorite pastime.  Or not.  Everyone just loved her and she chimed right in with the eclectic group we have here in Haiti.  

Our remaining few days were spent freezing our bones off up in the mountains (it got down to 60 degrees!  BUuuurr!) and telling little Haitian children that no, we didn’t want to give them one dollar and also that we didn’t want to pay for their school.  I’m sure glad I brought my translator up to the mountains with me.  Apparently ritzy resorts aren’t so fond of speaking Creole and insisted on speaking to me in French.  One problem.  Julie doesn’t remember her French.  BUT MOM DOES!  After dusting off her 40 year old French we made out just fine.  Service doesn’t really come with a smile anywhere in Haiti (and sometimes the service hardy comes) so we felt content with our waiter’s 36 degree warm personality.  Once we convinced him to come wait on us of course.  We almost got a smile out of him at the end.  After our glorious time spent up in the mountains at an incredible lodge we headed out for a hike along the ridgeline of beautiful Haiti.  Check it out folks.  Haiti hides its beauty with poverty so foreigners won’t discovery what they are missing not visiting here.  Pretty clever.  

Mom and my’s favorite part of the hike was our turn around point.  A few peasants had come up with the clever idea to install a sort of road block toll.  Mind you this is out in the absolute middle of no where.  The road block consisted of a single row of cement blocks with two vertical blocks in the middle acting as the gate for moto taxis.  Never mind the fact that one could merely WALK over the block with little effort.  We stood dumbfounded for a few minutes watching the commotion as motos would approach the “gate” and decided instead of exhaust all my Creole to get through, to just turn around.  Hiking in Haiti is a little less fun with the attention we attract from the locals and after 2 hours of hiking we were mentally done with our hike. 

All in all we had a splendid time and I haven’t been that full for a very long time.  It was just peachy to finally be with someone who appreciates food and eating as much as I do.  

On another note we had a few members of our Haitian staff attend orientation in the United States these past two weeks.  Orientation is designed to orient (duh) those who work or are going to work for MCC about the organization and all the wonderful things they  are doing globally and have done in Akron, PA.  Some national staff here in Haiti have never been to orientation due to difficulties to obtain a passport.  For some this was their first time to the United States so a special trip to NYC was planned.  Never had they seen so many fat people in their lives.  There were so many that they had to come up with a special classification for those that were beyond fat and obese.  The word that developed was Walmart.  I think on the way to NYC their guide stopped at Walmart.  Here is where the fattest of the fat shop apparently (hey, it’s true!) so as the Haitian staff spotted an obesely obese tourist in NYC they would say “Look, another walmart”.  I was snorting and spitting out my lunch today when our Haiti rep informed of this.  I have seen one obese person here in Haiti and I think by American standards we could classify her as fat.  Amazing what not having access to cars does for people’s health.  I also think it’s due to the fact that you can’t buy chocolate without a refrigerator.  

On the opposite of fat, our skinniest Haitian staff member who went couldn’t stand American food and lived off of Insure for the whole two weeks he was there.  I’m not sure (no pun intended) how Insure is better than American food.  I’d say that’s a pretty big slap to our culinary skills.  Although I would have to say that when Haitians cook in bulk they eliminate those pesky preservatives that make my stomach churn and everything is pretty much organic.  

Thanks to Brother and Caitlin for sending me my Halloween costume to Haiti.  The Haitians got a kick out of it.

Us with Pastor Yvon

Mom soaking up some rays at the beach

My translator up in the mountains at our resort called "Lodge".  Pretty appropriate name I'd say.

Beautiful Haiti

Along our hike.  Believe it or not they garden all over these hills. 

Carrots and onions being carted to town

Ok well I’ve bored myself with my blog so I’m sure you’re sawing logs at the moment.  WAKE UP.  Off to one more day of work and then a fun filled weekend of…well…probably working.  Headed to the Dominican Republic in a few weeks though for Turkey day with Miss Sara Sieteski.  Now if she would just buy her ticket!  Hope you all are amping up for the Holidays and having a glorious time freezing your bones off and making snowballs already.    Sounds cold over there.  Me, I got sunburned yesterday.  Brag, brag, brag.  At least you have electricity.  Till next time!