Bucket Brigade

Almost all of the new construction in Haiti is block, stone, or cement. I came across these workers lifting up 5 gallon buckets one after another, filled with concrete, in order to pour a new concrete roof on top of a two story home in Cap Haitien. Am guessing that it was a very strong ladder!
This house at an orphanage near Cap-Haitien is waiting on its concrete roof. Bamboo poles hold-up the boards which will support the weight of the concrete until it cures. (Do check out Children of the Promise.)

Rival Beach and Fort Picolet

The street kids from Cap Haitien know all the best places to go, best prices too! Their favorite "in town" beach" is Rival Beach. It is not on the regular tourist route and very beautiful. As you can see, everyone was eager to get there.

As protection from the French, Fort Picolet was built over 200 years ago on a cliff-side just west of Cap Haitien, and around the corner from Rival Beach. These cannons were never fired, they sit untouched in a ruins that would be a national park almost anywhere else in the world.

The fort has many walls and staircases remaining. There is even a cistern which still catches rainwater. Some say that the fort is in such good shape because too many people are afraid to visit it. Haitians definitely do not like to "haunt" those locations were people died. Others say that most people stay away because "vodoun" is practiced in some of the empty chambers.

Here you can see some of the paintings left behind from "vodoun" ceremonies. The bamboo post in the corner were used to make a temporary "tonnelle."

You can see how steep the outside walls of the fort were! If you look carefully, you can just make out the container port in the distance. The rain clouds further south, are covering the mountains and The Citadel.

As we climbed the cliffs, returning back from Fort Picolet, this bateau cleared the headlands from where we had just come. It was not Napoleon finally returning to conquer the Haitians, but.....Can you imagine?

In Their Eyes

That's Using your Head.....

School has started and everyone is out shopping for school supplies. This women is displaying some back-packs while minding her school-book store. All the books are soft-bound and most often, photo-copied from an original.

These two girls are taking a break from carrying water from the public well to their home. You can tell how/where they carry the water by looking at their hair. (A five gallon bucket filled with water weighs approximately 40 pounds!) Transporting water is a huge task for most families. Many children can not go to school because their family can not afford it. In fact, many children do not go to school because their family needs their help to support the family.
These two boys are on their way home after shopping in-town for dinner. The boy on the right has an umbilical hernia - quite common , not painful and not caused by hunger - which happens at birth and often is left un-treated.

These guys are heading home from school. I have never worked in a school division where uniforms were required, but I can certainly understand why it is required in Haiti and ----- the kids look great! I asked these guys if they wanted their picture taken. They said yes, then proceeded to play pica boo! I like the kids captured in the rear-view mirror.

The Citadel

Today, October 8 is Henri Christophe's birthday. He was a "fearless" general during Haiti's war of independence from France. He was considered one of Haiti's three "founding fathers." Shortly, after Independence Day, January 1, 1804, the new republic was divided in-two when he declared himself Roi Christophe, Roi du Nord - King Christophe, King of the North.

From i'ts very beginning, Haiti has had difficulty with political stability and peaceful transition. Christophe fought for freedom and democracy, but instituted himself as a monarch! He defeated the French, but was never accepted by the English, the country and monarchy which he worshipped.

Christophe's declaration of Haiti being divided between north and south was the beginning of 200 years of geographical/political/racial struggles for Ayiti. With only a little exaggeration, you might imagine the north of Haiti as the weaker, poorer, African (blacker) half, while the south as the stronger, richer, mixed (mulatto) half of the country. This is an over-simplification, but it a story that has been repeated for two centuries.

Christophe was always afraid that the French, especially Napoleon, would return to Haiti to recapture its wealth. In preparation and defense of this attack, which never occurred, Christophe directed the construction of The Citadel. It is truly monumental - amazingly huge, built on top of 3000 ft peak with a 180 degree panorama of the northern coastline, taking over 10 years to complete with over over 20,000 workers dying on the project. 365 cannons were installed in the Citadel, but not one was fired. At their base, the walls are 30 feet thick, behind them there was a hospital, a dungeon, a foundry, many kitchens and storerooms, a chapel, an arsenal, and private quarters for the Roi Christophe and his queen. When completed in 1816 it could house, 15,000 soldiers and the entire population of Milot.

I took this picture from the window of the small 12-seater airplane which travels between Cap-Haitien and Port-au-Prince.

Ap nanje nan Eau du Kap

They could be Dolphins

Eau du Kap runs through Cap-Haitien. After leaving the mountains, the river meanders northward across fertile farm land, watering huge fields of sugar cane and thousands of smaller jadens - planted thick with bananas, plantains, beans, potatoes, cassava, carrots, onions, and many more legumes than I can identify.

At the river's mouth is the the port of Cap-Haitien. There is one large-ish container dock. Judging from the size of the ships, I suspect that the port of Cap-Haitien could use some major dredging.

Every day, when we leave town to head south to Milot, we walk across the one bridge over Eau du Kap to the large bus depot/market on the far side in order to catch a taptap home. Each time I cross the bridge, I see something new - thousands of shanties on either side of the river; pigs and goats foraging through the garbage in drainage ditches running down from town; small shops set up for welders,woodworkers, and mechanics; and the tens of thousands of folks who live along Eau du Kap.

Like kids anywhere in the world - whether it is pier-jumping in St. Croix or lake-swimming in St. Paul - they know how to take advantage of a river on a hot afternoon.

Free Market places....

Reading bits and pieces about the U.S. financial mess has been a "telling experience" for me. Living in Haiti gives one new perspectives on what I have, what I need, and what I expect. For example - the price of gas is not too meaningful when there is NO gas to be sold. Or - the security of my retirement savings when there is no food for sale. Each time I go to post this blog, I am greatful that the Internet is working today, that it's speed permits me to upload a picture (something that will tell my experience much better than my words), and that the electricity does not go off before my new blog post is uploaded.

Today, 10/6/08 is the first day of school for the school year in Haiti. I feel very fortunate knowing that my own children have already completed 6 weeks of school. And as a life-long school person, I know that the financial collapses in the U.S. will make a difference for all schools. I am deeply moved by this letter that I have copied below and urge you to read it, think about it, begin to make choices, "to live life richly - We need to measure prosperity differently. We need to measure progress differently."

Dear Colleagues:

Here is the situation.

First mine. Then yours.

I returned home from Chicago on Sunday evening. I had enough gas in my car to get me home. I still have 1/16^th of a tank but there is no gas available. The stations around me are dry. With no idea of when a tanker will be by to replenish them. I drive an SUV. I bought it in 1999. Perhaps I should have known better. It guzzles gas. It has now over 125,000 miles on it. A lot of emission. It sits in the driveway and may for some time. I am contemplating a scooter.

My lawn needs to be watered. We have not had rain for 3 weeks or so. I can't recall precisely. None is in the forecast. When we bought our home, we had a sprinkler system installed. I have been prohibited by ordinance from using it for the last 18 months. Our reservoirs are depleted even more than our gas stations. And there is no end in sight to the drought that plagues Atlanta and much of the southeast. We have overbuilt and the water infrastructure is inadequate. We are considering rain barrels and other catchment solutions to help.

Earlier in the month, I turned 65. Once upon a time, I considered retirement a viable option, probably not at 65 but in the foreseeable future thereafter. That future is simply no longer foreseeable due to the economic turmoil and downturn of recent months which has seen my retirement portfolio decrease in value by 20% or more. I simply refuse to look any longer. What is the point?

Well, there is another point. I remain among the most privileged of human beings in the course of history and on the face of the earth. Ninety-five percent or more of all people on the globe would gladly swap their living conditions with me and know full well it was an upgrade. My wife and I live in a four bedroom home. It is not grand, although we love it, but it is more than ample for sure. We have filled it up because we could, not because we needed to.

I am inclined to believe that these and other recent conditions of life may not change appreciably either in the short or long term. They will doubtless ease – but in one way I hope not too much. I frankly can live with a lot less and should. I am continuously reminded of an assertion made by Jared Diamond not long ago that if every human being on earth were to consume at the rate of the average American, it would require six planet Earths to sustain our consumptive habits.

I do realize that for many the current hardships are very real and represent displacements of job and home that are not just discomforting but hazardous. In no way do I mean to trivialize those. Still, the majority of people with whom I work and live are in circumstances far less dire than most and are far less vulnerable to catastrophic displacement. The accommodations and adjustments we need to make may not be easy, but they surely do not rise to the catastrophic.

What has this to do with you?

Schools, too, are going to have to do with less - smaller enrollments and less robust budgets and endowments. Campus and capital improvements may need to be postponed or rethought. We need to address these realities on several fronts. We need to think creatively about how we construct an education that is less dependent on conventional ways of organizing curriculum, pedagogy and personnel. Some orthodox, independent school shibboleths about classroom and administrative size and composition might have to give way. There need to be creative forums for alternative thinking about the design and delivery of education. We are available to help in the design of sustainability forums.

Even more importantly and more urgently, we need to recalibrate what we understand as "enough" and we need to stop making the simple and ultimately problematic equation between growth and progress. More is not necessarily better. This is obviously not just true of and for our schools; the equation has become a cultural and economic norm. Sustainability is not just ecological; it is about a way of life that, like the environment, is in peril unless we activate significant reformulation and remedy. We need to measure prosperity differently. We need to measure progress differently.

This is going to require a paradigm shift in the architecture of our schools and in the architecture of our lives. It is an overdue shift. It is also a hopeful shift if we want to be responsible stewards of the future and of the earth. That claim and characterization, unlike many bank accounts these days, is not overdrawn. To live life abundantly, this generation of young people does not need to live like we have. To live life richly, this generation of young people does not have to consume like we have.

Sometimes, we seem rather to back into our future rather than walk into it. This seems to me one of those times. But I continue to hope that we might turn around and walk into the days and months ahead with the determination to use our resources and resourcefulness more wisely and responsibly than we have and to educate our children and our students to follow suit and perhaps, if we can get it right, to follow our example.

Peter

Cobb & Associates Helping schools and families keep the heart in mind Peter Cobb President 1150 St. Charles Place Atlanta, GA 30306 peter@cobbandassociates.com tel: fax: mobile: 404-873-4557 404-873-4612 404-931-1199

Pi moun vle` jwe` fu`tbal.....

In Haiti: there is one sport. Soccer is the king, queen, prince, and princess of all athletics - fu`tbal. In every village, town, or city - at around 4:00pm chak jou apre midi - the sport is played and watched and celebrated.

In Haiti: A soccer field can be the community pasture, a dead-end alley, a clear spot of dirt pounded smooth by countless bare feet, a clean slab of concrete, or the immaculate pitch of a big city stadium. A soccer ball can be "real" fu`tbal, a basket ball, a volley ball, a beach ball, a tightly-wound sphere made from rags and string, or whatever is available.....

In Haiti: No one plays the "American-style" kick-and-run game, always trying for the long pass or fast break of hitting a home run on a Hail Mary attempt. No one plays the "European style" game - ball and time control play of endless long passes, continually moving the ball sideways or backwards - taking advantage of vast fields and endless patience of European fans.

In Haiti: Every one plays, a fast moving, athletic, ball-skill game of dribbling, juggling, feinting, chesting, heading, passing, and overall soccer mastery - always forcing the play forward, always performing some magic with your feet and hips and shoulders, all at the same time. The defense plays up, way up, always looking to trap the other team off-side or convert a steal into a quick counter-strike.

This photo shows a scene from a Haitian Boys Scout tournament (playing 5 v 5 "piton" small goal soccer) in the Lycee yard in Milot, 15 km south of Cap Haitian, the home of Palais Sans Souci and The Citadel. The two side curbs and over-hanging trees are in-play. There is a goalie but he can not use his hands to defend the 2 foot by 2 foot goal. This game had two 30 minute halves and was referred by mon ami, Ernest who teaches at the Lycee. Regulation time ended in a 1-1 tie, so it was determined by PENALTY KICKS, where each member of the team took a mid-field( i.e. mid-court) shot at the empty net. The white team won, 3 - 0, much to the approval of the 200 spectators who had gathered to watch, then join their heroes dancing on the turf/slab.

In Haiti: Everyone likes to dance in celebration and a soccer victory is alway a good reason for celebration.....

Washed out....

Haitians depend on highway transportation. After Hurricane Ike, many parts of the country were separated from each other. Port-au-Prince is the hub, in the center of all routes. Massif de la Hotte (southwestern department) has been cut off from the capital when the bridge washed out just south of Miragoa`ne.

This past weekend, I was able to vist Les Cayes and Port Salut. However, it meant crossing this river each time in a small boat. My photo is from our boat looking south at the folks who want travel north. Taptaps, buses, and trucks line up on both sides of the crossing - dropping off or picking up passengers and their goods. The boats have no motors - they are poled, paddled, pushed, and pulled across. Porters work at the water's edge, fiercely bidding against each for the business of carrying customers and freight from dry land to a boat. Somehow, I had the privilege/coincidence of carrying me both on Friday, headed south-bound, and on Monday, going north to Port-au-Prince. I knew from the first time, this man would have no problem carrying me and backpack!

Yes, everything that is going to be sold must be carried. I saw: dozens of chickens and goats headed for market; entire boats filled with 100+ sacks of charcoal, bags of fruit, rice, sugar, and beans; large trays of freshly baked bread; dozens upon dozens of 5 gallon containers filled with gasoline or diesel; and people - hundreds of people! This past Monday, I watcher a cow-herd pull/drag his herd across the river. Things were going smoothly, until the largest bull broke away, swam to the closest hill side, and headed uphill at a full trot.

Every day in Haiti gives greater truth to the familiar maxim - Life is what happens between the plans!

To Photo or not To Photo

As a rule, Haitians do not want their photos taken. I have heard that it is feared it might take away a piece of your soul. Almost the same as Navajo beliefs! After talking with folks they are most inclined to say - "D'accord."
These two children were quite surprised when I appeared walking past their house. "Blan, blan" they shrieked with delight. They were amazed by my digital camera. For that matter, me too!

Sunday Dinner

There is very little refrigeration in Haiti. Public power is inconsistent and generators are out of financial reach for the vast majority. This young man was returning from the country with a special treat for Sunday dinner.

I Heard it on a Taptap

Public transportation – Marche taptap is the primary means of travel for most Haitian. Buses, flat-bed trucks, and pickups constantly circulate the main arteries of every city; others go in an out from city to town and back again. Shout out your destination in order to confirm the route, and then try to find a place to sit or to stand or at least, something to hold on to.

Read the stickers left over from Wicanoma School District – 48 PASSENGER LIMIT (I stopped counting at 100, only because I couldn’t see the front of the bus), DARE (I have seen no signs of substance abuse, public drinking and cigarette smoking is rare – perhaps there are a few benefits to abject poverty!)

Taptaps are always crowded; drivers do not leave until their vehicle is full and then stop along the ways cramming in more passengers who wave them down along the way. Expect your senses to working at a level equivalent to standing room only – touch, sound, smell, sight, and taste can all get an intense workout during every ride. Shoppers and merchants will be traveling with 50 lb. sacks of rice, cardboard trays stacked with eggs, plastic basins piled high with mangoes, avocadoes, or citrus; bag of charcoal; live chickens or ducks tethered with twine (fortunately goats banned to the roof); and of course many large plastic bags filled to the brim and carefully sealed to hide its contents from prying eyes.

All the machines are old, beat-up, and continually repaired. One school bus, leaned far to the left, at first I feared we were so top heavy that we would end up in the ditch; each time we hit a bump you could feel the frame hit the axle. Another bus, first stop for a flat tire; it was fixed on the spot, taking only 30 minutes. One kilometer later the front suspension collapsed, metal parts scattered on the ground. As we got out of the bus, a second bus pulled up and we all jumped in. The first driver lost all his fare paying passengers, but we were on our way again!

I have had one week of Kryeol lessons and not studied French in 35 years. Accordingly, my first-hand understanding of taptap conversations is visceral not intellectual. However, the dialogues are lengthy, the ride is long, and every word is spoken at full volume – for everyone’s sake. Upon translation, I am amazed! Is food obligatory or necessary? Is a woman’s place in the home or in the work place? Does sugar cane make you stupid and lazy? Will you be my best friend?

Monday, Monday

Friday was for flying. 6:30am from Ft. Lauderdale means leaving at 9:30am with arrival directly in Cap-Haitien. A 12 seat turbo-prop means passengers get to know each other quickly, if not already from the waiting in the airport. {As a "blan" I find that soon I have a "new best friend" and that most Haitians report being "related"}

Cap-Haitien has been cut-off from the south, all the bridges to Port-au-Prince, Gonaive, and Hinche were washed out by Ike. Fortunate for the north, there are ports and supplies come in.
Right now there is food, but no diesel or gasoline. All the gas stations are closed and the black-market price for gasoline is over $12.50 American/gallon or $80.00 Haitien/gallon. Consider the impact in a nation where the average income is under $400 American/year - about $3,000 Haitian/year. Hustlers sell "fuel" by the gallon alongside the road, waving a tea colored liquid while shouting the latest price at each passerby. Most often the fuel has been watered down, then colored, causing ruin to many engines. Even the mayor of Cap-Haitien lost his motor to bad gas!

On Sunday, the food boats arrived in the northern ports. It was a great feeling to see truck-after-truck, pilled high with 50lb bags or rice. They were lined up along the roads ready to head off for distribution in the town markets.

Yet, Gonaive sits waiting, the water slowly receding. 300,000 growing more hungry. We hear that there is food in there, in the warehouses, but no one distributes it. Some say "it is the water," others that "it is too dangerous," and most often I hear "it is the politics, always the politics."

All schools have been ordered not to open until Monday, 10/6, put off from 9/8. At first the delay was due to the "cyclone," now I suspect that it is the "finances." In either case, it is one more month with all the students waiting and precious little to do - there is simply no work.

As an educator, I know that this is month missed out which will not be made up.

La Famille

My Brothers Table

Was able to volunteer one last time time today at the soup kitchen in Frederiksted. After helping many times this summer when it was usually the "same old adults" and Officer Charles, Frederiksted's bike cop, it was great to see three students and a staff member from Country Day School there today.With each meal, I see how much I have learned by giving my respect and my attention to these folks. In real schooling, teachers and students often switch places. Today, Miss Rose cooked salt-fish and fungi, word spread quickly on the street, so there was a big turnout with very little thrown away.


The port city of Gonaives is forty miles north of Port-au-Prince. A natural harbor, built on a wide river delta, it has had sections of the town that are still flooded since 2002. This summer, Gonaives got deluged four times. All the roads leading to the city are closed by washed-out bridges, so no food or water can be trucked in. Here is a city that truly needs the world to step forward with My Brothers Table.

Ike grows to Category 4 - pounds Haiti

http://www.nytimes.com/imagepages/2008/09/08/world/20080908_Ike_map.html

Getting ready -

My first visit was all too quick. Just eight days, but who would have known that the Haitian hook had been set so deep. My family has returned from summer travels in the states, the school has started, and we have "official candidates" for president/vice president - so, now I can return to Haiti.

What have the hurricanes wrought? Will the boys return to their schools in Cap-Haitien, even though there has been so much turmoil in the program and their lives? Can I make a difference?

Much to do with only four days left until leaving. How do you get ready for what you don't really understand?