Inching forward with the main thing, along with some side projects

So, I thought I'd write a bit about the work we're doing, or about the progress we're making on it.

R, the attorney who came to Haiti shortly after the earthquake, was here for 2 months, then went back to the U.S. for a few weeks, then came back at around the same time I came, is pretty amazing. She knows a lot about US immigration law and procedures and forms, the kind of book knowledge that I think I can eventually acquire without too much trouble (hopefully). But she also knows a lot about the different positions that UNICEF and various NGO's (nongovernmental organizations) take on international adoption and related matters. She's met a ton of people who work for these NGO's and for various governments. And she also has this big picture grasp of what the different players' concerns are, and who is pressuring who for what reasons.

She also has a really good memory about all the aspects of the 2 cases of the 2 kids we've gotten into the U.S. (I'm still having trouble remembering who talked to who and when, and what each person's job is, and what they've actually done. It's complicated.)

What she doesn't know that much about is the internal workings of the Haitian government and specifically, the Haitian social services department (this is one of the most important entities in the adoption of Haitian kids). Various forms and various permissions are needed from them in order for kids to leave the country, whether orphans or not. So a lot of our legal or quasi-legal related work has been in making contacts with people here who are familiar with Haitian social services, and trying to learn what we can from them. And then discussing what we've learned and how that information affects those 2 kids, and how it might affect other kids in the future. And gathering various documents or formulating questions that we need (or would really really like) the answers to, from someone.

So that's sort of the main work. And R will be leaving Haiti next week, because she needs to do a bunch of work related to orphans in certain Asian countries. So I'm supposed to step into her shoes for the remainder of my time in Haiti when she's gone. These are big shoes. And I feel it.

But then there's also a lot of other stuff that's not directly part of the main work. One thing has been basic housekeeping or logistics stuff (buying drinking water, getting gasoline, getting other household supplies, and such). We're hoping to rent or buy a diesel powered automatic transmission vehicle, which is also part of this category of tasks we've had (these are hard to come by in Haiti). And there's some issues with license plates and driver's licenses and such.

And there's also maintaining relationships with different people. We rely heavily on MOH, a partner organization that has been in Haiti for many years. So there's a lot of communication with them, which often means driving out to visit them to talk with certain people, or dropping things off, or picking them up, or borrowing one of their people for an overnight stay to help us. Unfortunately, it's about a 1 hr drive, with good traffic. So every time we go out there, that's at least 2 hrs of the day on the road. Often, it's more.

As an aside, most Haitian established businesses close up shop somewhere between 3 and 5 pm. Traffic gets to be pretty bad from about 3:30 pm to pretty late. I think a lot of the street vendors keep selling until later, so traffic can be bad even at 7 or 8 pm. Also, we've tried to avoid driving at night for a number of reasons:
1) potholes are harder to see (and there are many potholes and sections of road that are gravel or pebbles)
2) the fact that lanes are optional, and the many people walking along or within the traffic makes it rather easy (in our minds at least) for us to hit one of them accidentally), and
3) we've been warned that there's considerably more crime in certain parts of town at night.

As an aside to 3) above (an aside to an aside, or "a twig off the branch," as my brother and sister might call it), we met some people working for Oxfam last Sunday. Both are white (European), and they're apparently not allowed to go out of their housing complex after 6 pm, since a few months ago, there were some kidnappings of some of their employees. Apparently, if you work for a big name organization, and if you can be easily identified on the street, there are some people who are willing to kidnap you and demand a ransom from the organization you work for.

(I think this is not as big a concern for us because the organization we work for is tiny. Still, we do stand out in a crowd. S is white, and R and I are both Asian, and Asians are very rare in Haiti. Many of the kids we see have apparently asked or believed or formed the impression that R is Jackie Chan's sister. And by extension, then, I must be his brother. Never been mistaken for that before.)

As a further aside, it's amazing how people (myself included) get used to the things we see every day. At most of the car dealership we've visited, and many of the stores and restaurants and even orphanages and schools, there's a security guy at the entrance. He's not wearing a uniform, but you know he's security because he's holding a shotgun or a rifle, and he usually has a little bit of a suspicious look on his face as you walk through the entrance. But it's something I've gotten used to.

Alright, enough of my asides. I wanted to say that with all my ignorance of Creole and French (the languages spoken here), and of Haitian culture, and with all my efforts to learn about the Haitian social services department, I haven't felt terribly useful so far. Which I know (in the opinion of at least one missionary who commented on this) reflects an American cultural value: Americans prize effectiveness and efficiency, to a far greater extent than many other cultures (which are often more relational). That whole question of: "what have you accomplished?" is one that we ask ourselves, and when we ask others, we phrase it as "so, what did you do?"

Still, chalk it up to the almost impossible task of escaping your own cultural values, but a few other side projects I've done have alleviated some of my vague dissatisfaction with my lack of accomplishment. What side projects, you might ask? (Or not.) Well, I'll tell you:

Side project 1: I helped MOH with a request they had. MOH (the organization we're working with), runs an orphanage, a school, a medical clinic, and a church and also hosts various volunteer teams (from the US or Canada). Many of their staff who are expats are Canadians.

One of their staff doctors asked for some help with getting an adult patient a B2 visa to go to the U.S. to receive medical treatment that isn't available in Haiti. Now our organization works with orphans or abandoned kids, but we were eager to help because it's possible we might apply for B2 visas for some kids in the future, and we wanted to learn about the process. So MOH prepared all the paperwork, but they felt it would be better to have an American citizen go to the embassy with her to apply for the visa. And if said American citizen also was a lawyer, wouldn't that be even better? So that was me.

I'd never visited an American embassy before, so there was a lot of observation and learning for me. The first day, we didn't have an appointment for that day (we had one for the following week, but her medical condition was rapidly worsening), so we were stopped at a counter by a military guy. And we found out the only way to reschedule an appointment was by email. We talked to a woman on the phone, and asked if there was any way to reschedule in person or by phone, but were denied.

An email was sent, an appointment for the next day was granted, and we went back. Once we got past the lines and the guards at the various security checkpoints, it really turned out to be an experience that reminded me of going to the DMV.

"Go to window 6." (Wait at the line for window 6.) Then,
"Go to window 12." (Wait at window 12, then submit papers, get asked some basic questions by a woman at a counter with a glass partition and a microphone.)
"Wait until your name is called." (Wait for a while, then name is called.)
(more questions)
"Go to window 4 to get your fingerprints taken" (go there, wait, help my "client" get her fingerprints taken.)
"Go to window 14" (more waiting, more questions)

Fortunately, the women behind the counters at these windows seemed like somewhat bored bureaucratic types. In other words, there seemed to be a good chance that no one would be doing any tough grilling as to why this woman needed a visa, or whether she would overstay her visa, or such. We had answers for these, but it's always a little dicier if you're actively trying to persuade someone that your client is not going to break the law.

At the end, at window 14, a woman told us that while these applications normally take a few days, because of her medical condition, we could come back that afternoon to pick up the visa. She didn't need to be there, so I went back, picked up the visa, and got it to her.

While I didn't really do that much, various folks at MOH (all of them Canadians, as it turned out) thanked me at various times throughout the day, which felt good. I suppose my being there helped reassure them that if any problems had arisen, I could've maybe helped. And as far as I know, the woman left Haiti on a plane to the U.S. (Hope to confirm this soon.)

Side project 2: While waiting at the embassy, we met a guy who, as it turned out, is a doctor doing some traveling medical clinics in the area. Now the "we" I've been talking about included the woman with the medical condition, in a wheelchair, and a nurse from MOH who pushed the wheelchair, and helped the woman out, and had some pain meds in case she needed them, and who was also there to answer any medical related questions in case we were grilled by someone deciding whether or not to grant the visa.

So this doctor sees the woman in the wheelchair, and asks the nurse about her condition, and we start a little conversation while waiting. It turns out that the doctor is going back to the U.S. later that week, and brought some extra medical supplies that he hasn't used. He says he doesn't want to take them back to the U.S., but would rather donate them. And he describes the stuff to the nurse, and asks if MOH could use them. She says sure.

Since MOH is a little ways away from the city towards the north, and since he's been living and working in an area west of the city, and since the house that my organization is renting is in the city pretty close to a motel he'll be staying at before he flies back to the U.S., I offer to hold the supplies and pass them on to MOH.

And so it goes. I tell my coworkers about the doctor, and later that week, I call, find out where the hotel is, and pick up the supplies from him. Some of them have gone to MOH, and we'll probably take the rest of them sometime soon. So that was a good thing.

Side project 3: wheelchair modification.

I don't have a great aptitude for things mechanical. I do kind of enjoy assembling IKEA furniture, when I have the time, but there's plenty of folks out there who understand tools and parts and how to fix things far better than I.

The other day, we visited an orphanage that cares primarily for kids with developmental disabilities. It's a little heartbreaking to be around them, especially because many of them are beautiful kids, and quite young, and a little starved for attention, since some tugged on my arm, or just patted me, or wanted a hug. And alas, the orphanage is in fairly bad shape (by US standards). There's a good number of kids, and in the area outside the residence, there's a tarp that's been stretched out to give some shade (a needed thing in Haiti).

Many of the kids are outside, but some are too disabled to be brought outside. And there's a lot of flies buzzing around both inside and out. And some of them land on the faces of some of the kids who are in bad shape. And they physically can't wave them away (or perhaps mentally aren't able to register the idea of doing so). And so it's sad.

And the staff of the orphanage just have their hands full, washing the kids, changing their clothes, feeding them, making sure they don't get into trouble. There's just too many for the staff to give much attention to any one kid for very long.

So we visit, and it turns out that they've recently received some wheelchairs from an international organization that distributes them. The ones that can be used are used, which allows some of the kids who are in pretty bad shape to at least get outside, and see a little sun, and feel the breeze, and see stuff, and hear the sounds of the city. Which is a good thing.

But some wheelchairs aren't able to be used. Some don't have foot pedals, which the director of the orphanage tells us causes the kid in them to just have their feet and legs go numb eventually. It's just really uncomfortable.

The other problem is that some of the wheelchairs don't have seatbelts, which is a pretty important thing for these kids because the orphanage staff really don't want any kids to fall out, or try to get out of the wheelchair while it's being pushed somewhere, or such.

But then, in looking at the four wheelchairs that are unusable for one or both of the above reasons, I realize that one wheelchair has no seatbelts, but has foot pedals. And the other has no foot pedals but has seatbelts. The seatbelts in the second could, with the right tool (namely, a hex wrench, aka Allen wrench, of the right size) be removed and attached to the first.

This looks very doable to me, since plenty of that IKEA furniture that I've had experience with uses just the same kind of hexagonal wrenches and screws and bolts. I've seen plenty of the hex wrench sets in Bakersfield at the dollar stores there, and I imagine that it's really just a matter of finding one, or finding a store here that sells them.

So, with a certain amount of optimism, I mention this to my coworkers and one of the translators. For the next few days, as we drive around town, I look for hardware stores on the street. And we find one on a certain day when there's nothing too urgent going on. I look inside but alas, no hex wrenches.

Now previously, during some of our travails with the electrical system in the house, I'd heard that there might be some tools in a shed near the house. And so I look later that day, hoping that there might be some hex wrenches. After a little searching, I find one, a small rusty one in a corner. And a few other wrenches for different nuts and bolts, which I think might work. And some pliers.

So I gather these tools in a bundle, hoping that at least one would be useful.

Now by this time, I've also picked up the medical supplies mentioned above. And these supplies include a whole bunch of hemostats, surgical tools that are normally used to hold gauze in a surgical incision, or to hold things open or closed. (Any of you medical types, feel free to correct me in the comments, here.)

So I also grab one of these, and add it to the bundle. And the next time we visit that orphanage, I bring the bundle, hoping that somehow we'll be able to do it. And amazingly, yes, that one small rusty hex wrench from the shed in the house is in fact just the right size for the screws holding these seatbelts in place.

Elated, I start to loosen one of the screws, and then one of the orphanage staff workers sees what I'm doing, and gets the idea. He speaks no English at all, but I quickly figure out that he's one of those many guys with a far greater aptitude for things mechanical than I have. After a few minutes of him and I working together, one of our translators sees what we're doing and also starts to help out. He, too, is gifted in the mechanically arts.

There's a little labor involved, and much sweating on my part (because of the heat rather than the difficulty of the work), and soon the seatbelts get transferred to the wheelchair that has foot pedals. And our translator and the orphanage staff worker also work on one of the other wheelchairs and essentially repair a big problem in one of the other previously unused wheelchairs. That one isn't completely fixed, but it's a lot closer to being usable when we leave. And the other one with foot pedals and seatbelts is being used by a kid as we walk out the entrance.

I feel really good about this. Partly because I felt like the Lord had been really gracious in providing exactly the right size small rusty tool in the shed.

And also because our visit helped allow a pair of Haitian guys with mechanical skills to work together to repair some wheelchairs for some Haitian orphans.

And those wheelchairs are now used to let some disabled kids get out of the house, into the sun, and feel the breeze, and see stuff outside, and hear the sounds of the city.

Good stuff.

The Lord provides

Looking at my last post, I realize we've made some progress in terms of the basics that I've largely taken for granted before coming to Haiti. So I'll give some updates there.

Internet: our provider sent a technician to the house, who fixed the wireless router, so that's been good. The range is not quite as far as I'd like, but I'm definitely thankful for web access for more than one person, and in rooms other than the office, which during the day is one of the hottest rooms in the house. Sometimes at night, too.

Electricity: city power is still sporadic, but we bought some more batteries (they're basically the size and shape of car batteries, though they're 6 volts, rather than 12). Also, our big generator was fixed and returned to us, which is good, though it burns gasoline at a much faster rate than the small generator. The advantage of the big generator is that it provides more power--we can run the fridge and lights and fans and the modem and router, and recharge the batteries all at the same time. The same guy who brought it back also changed some of the settings on the inverter, which has helped, too. The next paragraph involves some electrical stuff, which if you're not into, you needn't worry about, though it's been a bit of an education for me.

So an inverter typically changes direct current (DC, typically from batteries) to alternating current (AC, which is what wall outlets provide). The big fancy ones that you mount on a wall (or at least the one we have) can convert a lot of electricity (measured in watts, or kilowatts), but there's a limit. Also, ours is also supposed to do the reverse of what inverters normally do: it can change AC into DC so that the batteries can get recharged. This is supposed to happen when we're getting city power, or when the generator is running. Our 6 old batteries were getting depleted rather quickly, so we bought 12 new ones, and a friend helped set them up (in a pattern of both series and parallel connections so that they supply 12 volt power to the inverter). We thought our problem was solved. But no. Our house was still running out of electricity rather quickly. So we were always very happy (and still are) when a certain light bulb on the bottom floor of the house turns out, indicating that the city is providing electricity. This meant that we could plug in the fridge, appliances, run the water pump (which meant we wouldn't have to take bucket showers or brush our teeth with bucket water), and recharge the batteries. But in any case, we were still puzzled, and thought there must be something wrong with the inverter--it wasn't charging the batteries, or wasn't doing it fast enough. During the day, we were running out of electricity rather quickly. Compounding our confusion was the fact that we had a voltmeter--an instrument to measure how charged a battery is--but it wasn't until recently that we figured out that it was completely inaccurate. But now that we figured that out, and now that the generator guy has changed some of the settings on the inverter, we think things are running fairly well. Whenever we're running on batteries, though, we're still a little uncertain as to how long they'll go before giving out. The other information that we fortuitously discovered was that if both the big generator and the small generator are plugged into the house, and if we're running the small generator and the big one is not running, the small one will not provide steady reliable power to the house. Once we unplug the big generator (which isn't even running), though, the small one will power the house. Good stuff to know.

R, who will be going to some fairly remote areas of China soon, has been saying that it's been good to learn about these kinds of things now, so that she can hopefully apply it in Asia. And I think it's generally a good thing to be familiar with this kind of stuff if you're either going to a less developed country or going somewhere in the US (maybe a cabin or something) that's not connected to an electrical grid. And if you're going to really need electricity. Which as lawyers working for a foundation that's headquartered in the US has been a real need for us.

Gasoline: So the Port Au Prince area still seems to have a rather severe gas shortage. I just did some googling and found some news articles from 4/21 to 4/23 saying that 2 oil tankers have arrived, but that apparently the Haitian government has not allowed the oil to be released yet (also saying this may be an example of some government corruption in allowing the oil distributors here to continue to profit from the continuation of greatly inflated gas prices). As an aside, wikipedia states:

In 2006, Haiti was ranked as the most corrupt nation out of the 163 that were surveyed for the Index.[4] The International Red Cross reported that Haiti was 155th out of 159 countries in a similar survey of corrupt countries[5]

And there's citations for each sentence.

One of our translators said that if you know someone at a gas station, you might be able to get them to sell you a barrel of gas. Then you take it to the side of the street (which might be your home on the side of the street), and set out a 1 gallon cooking oil container filled with gas on a table or an overturned stool or such. Desperate drivers will then stop at your "shop" and buy gasoline from you at the going rate for street gas. Which lately apparently is a bit more than $8/gallon. Which means you can make some pretty good money. We've bought some gasoline a number of times in the past 2 weeks at this rate. It's all pretty makeshift/inventive. The cooking oil containers are like the ones you see at the supermarket for corn oil or such, 1 gallon containers. The woman we've usually bought from is selling from her house by the side of the road. She's got a big metal funnel, with various joints and pieces welded together, which her customers can borrow to pour the oil from these cooking oil containers into their cars. She's got a bunch of these cooking oil containers filled with either gasoline or diesel (she's expanded her product offering). And a big barrel, with a length of rubber tubing, so she can transfer the gas into a bucket. From the bucket, she pours gas into each 1 gallon cooking oil container. And when I helped buy some and refueled our car, and returned the containers to her, she also had a basin with some water and soap, so that her customers could wash their hands.

Last week, we were fortunate enough while driving around to find a gas station that was selling gas. It's a good feeling when you find one, since we'll drive by a gas station that has vehicles fueling from the pumps, and we'll hope, but often find that they're only selling diesel. Still, somehow our translators are often able to tell just by looking at the gas station whether they're also selling gas or not. Anyway, we found one, and Sd, our translator who was with us, walked up and confirmed that they were selling gas. However, maneuvering our vehicle in would be hard. We did have a gas container, but no funnel. So Sd asked for a water bottle, and someone had a pocket knife, and we cut around the bottom of the water bottle to create a makeshift funnel. We bought the gas, pumping it into the container, walked the 20 yards to where the car was parked, and used the funnel to refuel the car.

Another little anecdote relating to gas stations was on one of the last days that B was with us. (He flew back to the US last week.) We were at a gas station (I think we were refueling our diesel vehicle, so no hassles there). A guy walked up to us carrying a plastic storage container, a bit bigger than a shoebox. It had a bunch of pieces of fried squid inside. He also had a gallon jug of some red sauce. B, deciding he wanted the experience, decided to buy. The guy had a bunch of styrofoam cups, and took one out, filled it with fried squid, and produced a toothpick, which he put into the cup, and sold it to B. (Don't remember whether B decided to get some of that red sauce, too).

B's comment: "I'm eating squid from a box".
My reply: "You're eating squid from a box from a guy at a gas station"

And my other gas station incident was less funny (in case you didn't pick up on it, we laughed a bit after the exchange above). I was in a car with Bl, another translator, trying to get some errands done. We thought a gas station might have been selling gas, but found out it was only selling diesel. But it was around lunchtime, so we decided to eat lunch there. Now I've been to plenty of combination gas station/fast food places in the U.S., but usually they were in sort of less populated places. This was on a pretty major road, and the clientele involved a good number of folks wearing pretty nice clothes. So it just felt a little odd, ordering sandwiches, and eating at a gas station, with a fair number of people around in dress shirts and slacks, along with others not as nicely dressed.

Some pics from Haiti

Most of these were taken from the back window of a car.

Appreciating the little things

So we were short for much of the last few days. Short on various things.

Internet:
We paid for an upgrade from 500 MB/day to 1250 MB/day, but the actual upgrade didn't completely work. Some of the problem may have been addressed, but in the process, our wireless router has been rendered useless. So only 1 person at a time now can be online (hardwired into the modem).


Electricity:
City supplied power has been available most evenings from about 6 pm until sometime at night. Sometimes, it's even until early morning, and at other times, it'll only be on for an hour or two.

The house is set up to receive power through a gasoline generator, but that has been at a repair shop since before I got here. We're hoping to get it back Monday afternoon. We also have a smaller gasoline generator, but there's also a gasoline shortage in Port Au Prince. More on this in a bit.

The house also apparently has a solar power supply hooked up to some solar panels, but we're not sure if it's actually working or not. It may be, and perhaps we're just using up that electricity fairly quickly.

Also, the house has a set of batteries that supply electricity. They look just like car batteries--about that size and shape. There were 6, which helped, but was apparently not enough for a comfortable reserve. (When the city power is on, we've been told that it will not only supply power to the house, but that it will also recharge the batteries.)

So, we had to really conserve electricity. Related to this is the fact that water is pumped to the top of the house through an electric pump. This allows us to have water available through the facets and toilets and showers in the house. So for a little while, we used buckets of fairly clean water for that kind of stuff.

Gasoline:
So Sd, our translator, told us that he heard that Port-Au-Prince (perhaps all of Haiti?) won't get more unleaded gasoline until April 23. However, diesell is still available, and that's what many of the vehicles and such use.

Unfortunately, the generators mentioned above run on gasoline (I guess there are also diesel generators, but that's not the kind we have). Also, the 2 cars we had for most of the week also run on regular gasoline. I found out that we're renting both cars, and that there's a car the foundation owns, an SUV Nissan X-terra that runs on diesel but that was in an accident, and was in the shop.

Given the gasoline shortage, we were pretty concerned. The lines at the gas stations were really long, and we noticed that the cars at the gas station weren't pumping gas. Sd explained that the gas stations knew that there wouldn't be more gas for a while, and so they had kept some in reserve. But they would only sell during certain very limited hours. So people were there waiting and hoping that they'd get a chance to buy gas later that evening.

More to come later, but that's all for now.

First Day

Before we slept last night, we said we'd convene as a group at 7:30 am. (And we all would've taken care of our morning routines, had breakfast if we'd wanted it, and quiet times, and be ready to share and organize the things we needed to do that day.) Then I stayed up later than the others and posted to the blog, settled in my room, read a little, and finally fell asleep.

Hours passed (of sleep). Oblivion.

Then, a rooster crowing. I half-awoke, saw it was getting to be a litte light outside, thought I'd sleep more.

But then--another rooster (or maybe the same one?) crowing. And then another. And more and more crowing.

Ok, so maybe no more sleep. I looked at my cell phone, saw it was almost 7 am, and rushed to the bathroom. Too tired to remember if we said 7 or 7:30. Rushed downstairs, saw B, asked what time we said we'd be meeting, and he said 7:30.

"Great! Time enough for a shower then" (and I rushed back to the bathroom). Did so, and went back--and everyone didn't seem to be convening. And I found out why.

I'd had the impression (maybe from talking with R or S before?) that Haiti was on the same time as the Pacific time zone. And it turns out they were, but they don't observe Daylight Savings Time. So now they were on the same time as US Central Time. So in fact it was about 6:30am. Ok.

Leisurely morning quiet time, enjoying a view of the city and the morning breeze. Then at 7:30, spent a little time as a group (5 of us, R, S, B, Sd our Haitian translator/helper, and myself) sharing, then talking about logistics for the day. Some things needed to be done at the house/office (one of the upper rooms is being used as an office). Others needed to get done at various places in Port-Au-Prince.

Initial plan made. Then what was thought to be a short task (at the house) turned out to be a long one. And other phone calls made. New plans made.

I went with B and Sd to the company giving us Internet service. Now R had commented that with the work she had been doing, Internet was absolutely necessary. Documents and photos had to be scanned and sent to others (often in Texas, the headquarters of the foundation, or to Washington D.C., or to others). And also received from others. And lots of legal stuff that wouldn't be available to us in any other way than the web.

We wanted a higher allocation of access. The company installed and provided service for satellite internet access. We were getting 500 MB/day, and we needed more, a lot more. That 500 was total for the sum of all downloads and uploads. After this capacity was reached, we'd still have access, but a lot lot slower. And it's reset at midnight each day (so blogging here doesn't affect any of the allotment).

So we drove there, waited a little bit, talked to a guy there (who spoke English! yes!), and asked what higher allocations were available. 1250 MB/day. B then called R on the phone, then asked if an unlimited access plan was available. The guy hemmed and hawed a little, then said he could tell us the following week.

Well, ok, we'd upgrade today to 1250, and then talk next week. Then he took us to another room, with 2 women at a desk, and the next 30-45 minutes were then spent largely waiting for them to type up a modified contract and bill us. And credit card authorization. And then us asking that the modified contract state somewhere that it was for 1250. And questions on the phone. And then we were done.

In the midst of this, I leaned over to B, and asked whether those numbers (330/month) were in Haitian dollars or US or goud.

A few quick comments re Haitian money. $1 USD is about 7-8 Haitian dollars. Seems simple enough. But in fact, almost all normal business is done in goud (I'm guessing at the spelling). 1 Haitian dollar is 5 goud. So $1 USD is about 35 goud. Most prices are quoted in Haitian dollars, but actually paid for in goud currency. Why, you might ask? (as I did). S or R said, (and I think it was a little speculative), so that prices seem like low numbers. And all Haitians do their 5 to 1 conversions in their head. Ok.

So I asked what our monthly fees were, and B said, US dollars. Gulp. Wow, satellite internet is really expensive. But again, I guess we really need it, and I guess affordable Internet access isn't much of a priority for the Haitian marketplace. And B had called other companies, and it was either unavailable in our area or even more expensive at other places.

After our business was done, we went to get food. Sd and B saw a woman cooking on a sidewalk, with some big pots, and various utensils, and a small covered shelter nearby with a table and chairs. They said it looked good, so we bought food there. Which involved waiting about 10-15 minutes (we ordered for 6), and getting a bunch of styrofoam containers in white plastic shopping bag type bags.

Sd explained that the woman probably paid 50 goud a month to rent the space, likely owned a restaurant before the earthquake (since she had all the cooking stuff and other restaurant type stuff around), and now was undercutting the prices of a nearby "real" restaurant. But he also explained to B and I that if you were going to take a girl on a date, you wouldn't eat there, you'd go to the real restaurant and pay a lot more for the food, which would be probably of about the same quality, but would be in a nicer place.

B and I nodded. Yes, we understood.

And so, Sd explained, most of the customers would be single men, or maybe, just maybe, some certain girls might be willing to eat here. Or men might eat here for lunch by themselves.

And he was completely right. In the time we waited, various men came up, talked to the woman cooking, and joined us in waiting for food. No women.

We got our food and drove back to the house. Our conversation was fascinating to me. B is a guy from Los Angeles who's part of the same church S goes to. Sd, our Haitian translator/helper is about 21, was a college student (majoring in chemistry, nice!) before the earthquake. He made the comment that the educational system in Haiti is corrupt, very corrupt. (Later, I found out that there's about 50% illiteracy in Haiti). And so we were 3 guys in a car, which I think made Sd more comfortable in talking about girls, and how a guy can be romantic to a girl. Though their concept of dating is really not very analogous to the American one.

Anyway, we drove back, had lunch, which really was very good, and cleaned up. Then we needed to get to MOH, an established organization in Haiti that had helped our foundation tremendously for the last few months (and was where R and S had stayed before this house was rented). There were some legal documents that we needed to get, and also some people that needed to be visited.

The drive from the house to MOH was a very different one from the others I'd been on. MOH is located a bit outside the city, and we passed a few large areas of tents set up, and blue tarps. And the US military, which had established an area nearby. We didn't see many people there, which left my imagination to visualize what it's like for those living under the tarps/tents.

The weather is pretty humid, and feels hot to me, though I see that the men on the street are about 90% wearing long pants or jeans. Many wear long sleeved shirts. I wonder if that will change as the summer draws closer.

The folks in the tents probably aren't having it so good. And it's probably going to be worse.

Anyway, we draw close to MOH, and B and Sd decide to buy some drinks. We mostly get some sodas (B and Sd and I each get a "Ragaman" sort of like a carbonated biggger Bacchus-D, if you know what that is).

We get to MOH, and R introduces me to various important people: "he's an attorney who'll be here for 2 months". (The idea of living here for the next 2 months, now verbalized, impresses itself a little deeper in my consciousness.) We get paperwork, and I definitely get the sense that the relationships are very important. As they say, it's who you know, not what you know. Though I definitely feel (as does R) that we also do need to find out a lot more of that "what you know" as it relates to Haitian law. Still, lots of friends of R and S and B say hello and talk, some in simple English, and others in simple Creole.

S is by far the most advanced of all of us ex-pats (expatriates, those not from Haiti) in Creole. R also knows quite a bit. I struggle to catch words, phrases, the flavor/rhythm of the language, anything. The fact that R and S have learned as much as they have in the last few months gives me some hope.

We also meet a bunch of MOH ex-pat staff, and others who are staying at MOH temporarily (I think). It's nice to see more people than the handful of us at the house.

The plan is also for us to catch part of a worship service at MOH, then leave before it gets dark, since driving in the dark in this area is not fun, as B says. The worship service is beautiful. Lots of kids, teens, young adults. Lots of energy. A really full worship band, bunch of singers on stage, guitarist, drummer, trumpeter, keyboardist. R leans over and points out the keyboardist, and tells me that he and his brother (leading the music with a microphone only) switch off on leading, and that they've written many of the worship songs we're singing. Lots of energy, and enthusiasm. Also as some of the younger kids are bored or distracted, they wander away to the back of the shelter. (I feel that in the U.S., if kids of the same were bored or distracted in a comparable music set of a worship service, they'd fidget more, or feel compelled to stay in place, but then be more willing to make trouble. Here, they wandered to the back, but didn't talk, and mostly didn't leave the shelter entirely, but just walked around the empty aisles in the back while respecting everyone else singing or praying).

A few of the songs are familiar melodies. Which is nice, because we can sing along in English. Everyone else is singing and/or praying in Creole.

We leave a bit later than we'd planned, and I find out that R and S, in talking with various MOH staff, have found out a lot of really useful stuff, and gotten some important things done. My initial understanding of why we went to MOH has been revised.

We drive back home, which is I think made slower by the fact that darkness falls while we're driving, and the streets are clogged again with traffic. More young boys begging. More crazy traffic (optional lanes, U-turns, pedestrians everywhere). And at home--hurray, the city's electrical power is on. Which is great, since it means we don't need to run the generator (we're out of gas, so we couldn't have done so for very long anyway). And we can use lights and fans to cool ourselves, and not worry that the food in the fridge or freezer will go bad. B had been looking the whole day for a gas station selling gasoline, not diesel, and we haven't seen any. So we need to get some tomorrow, to run the generator when the city power goes out. Which B tells us could be 3 minutes from now, or 8 hours from now, or whenever.

But for tonight, no immediate worries, since the city electricity is running.

By the way, Sd will sleep tonight at MOH (apparently, he sleeps about 3 nights/week at the house), so it's the 4 of us ex-pats together for dinner and some conversation. With luxuries of lights, fans, the microwave oven running and the fridge/freezer all working at the same time. Praise God!

Arrival

I arrived in Miami at about 7 am, and the flight to Port-Au-Prince left at 2:30 pm. But I was saved from many hours of sitting on an airport chair by a friend of mine who lives in Miami, and who had some time available to pick me up, drive me to the beach in Miami, and have lunch with me before dropping me off at the airport.

It was especially nice because I haven't been in touch very much with her since last fall. We had lunch at a restaurant where Gianni Versace ate shortly before he died.

It's almost a cliche, but the contrast between the images of the stores and cruise ships in Miami, and the scene in Haiti is pretty immense as I think about my day today.

The flight to Haiti from Miami was absolutely packed. There were rows, with each having 7 seats (2, then 3 in the middle, then 2). I'd guess about 10 to 20% seemed to be Haitian, many of them pretty well dressed, quiet, serious. The rest of us were from various churches and other organizations trying to "do good". The atmosphere was a good one. I also hoped that of those of us on the plane, myself included, we would be able to do more good than harm. And hopefully, some real and lasting good. Historically, there's been so much that Christians have done that have had such huge unintended negative consequences. And yet, when you're in the middle of a plane full of folks with good intentions, there's a certain hope, and charity, and gentleness in the air that feels pretty good. As they say, the road to hell is paved ...

The airport in Port-Au-Prince was chaotic. We landed, waited while we all grabbed various carry-ons, then boarded a shuttle bus that took us to a structure about 5 minutes away. After seeing the images in the media, and reading about the earthquake, I almost expected to see a city where few structures were left standing. But that wasn't the case. I could see buildings and peeling paint, and a general sense of things run down.

We went to the immigrations and customs area, which was essentially a big warehouse. A guy in a uniform looked at my passport and customs declaration. I was a little apprehensive, because the foundation I'm working with didn't send me the address of the house where I'd be staying. So I filled out the paperwork simply saying that I'd be in Port-Au-Prince during my stay. I was expecting someone to ask: you mean you don't know where you'll be? Are you staying in one of the tent cities or something? You really don't know?

To which I would reply: no, there's a house somewhere that someone from this foundation is going to take me to. I don't know where it is, though, and I really hope that someone is out there waiting for me.

But instead the official stamped my passport and waved me through.

Claiming your checked luggage in a semi-makeshift airport where almost everyone around you is some type of aid or relief worker trying to help--try imagining it. Everyone's got the huge checked luggage bags. The conveyor belt (and they had one that was working) was a bit short, so things occasionally cycled by. Mobs of people are all around trying to edge their way in: "that one's mine!". Then they'd grab it, and often stay standing at the edge to get another.

I thought that if luggage thieves ever wanted a good target, this was probably it. Lots of chaos, lots of luggage lying around. Fortunately, after a bit of waiting (with a little growing anxiety), mine came out, and I managed to grab it.

Then a short walk to the building's exit, and outside into ... more chaos. Haitians all around, offering to help travelers with their bags. Young boys begging. The street, with cars and people walking by. Again, fortunately, one of the staff members I'd met a week ago (exactly), S, was there, along with SD, a Haitian translator and helper. The two helped me with my luggage, walked me out a few blocks, and got it all into the car.

By now it was about 4:30 or 5 pm, local time. S drove the car into that kind of crazy traffic I'd always heard about in other less developed countries. The kind where lanes are optional, sudden merging cars can come at any second, people walk out into the street within a hairs' breadth of getting run over, cars going in either direction sometimes just want to U-turn in the middle of the street, there's no traffic lights...you get the idea.

S said it normally took about 45 minutes to get from the house to the airport, without traffic. It ended up taking us about 2.5 hours. As we got out of the busier areas, there was less craziness, but the slowness was just because all the cars ahead of us were slow. And there were a lot of cars.

There were a good number of buildings that looked fine, but here and there some were in shambles. Lots of men and women were walking on the sidewalks or in the streets, going about their business. Lots more run down buildings, and some sad faces, but also a certain vibrancy underneath the surface, too.

Lots and lots of graffiti, much of it telling passersby to "Vote ___ (various names here)" I asked Sd if the people were very into politics, and he said yes, yes. But also, no one cleans up the graffiti, so what we saw was from lots of political campaigns from elections past.

On several occasions, while we were stuck in traffic, small Haitian boys ran up to S's window (she was driving), and asked for money, or said "hungry" and pointed at their bellies. Which was sad on several levels. That they were asking, and that we weren't giving them money was sad. That they had probably learned to do this over the past few months (maybe even years), and had learned they had some small chance of getting something was also sad, since they probably had nothing better to do.

They only approached the non-Haitians, never any of the Haitian teenagers or adults on the streets, at least as far as I could see. And I didn't see any girls begging, just young boys.

The roads at times were rough--broken asphalt, potholes, gravel in the street. Along the sidewalks were lots and lots of people, some of them walking about their business, many selling things from a box or blanket or table in front of them. Many were packing things up for the day.

Finally, we got home. A gated home, where R and B were waiting for us. (I had met R, the attorney, along with S in Valencia a week before.) It turned out to be a really really nice home. Four bedrooms, an electric generator in the back, well-furnished. It's owned by a couple that is away for a few years, and so we're renting it for a year. After a good dinner, we had a phone call with one of the U.S. staff, and then I got a quick crash overview of the legal issues R and I will be trying to handle or anticipate or avoid.

Anyway, that was my day, and I think the only reason I've stayed up so late is that my body is still used to Pacific time. I doubt I'll post at such length and in such detail, but I'll do what I can. Sorry if the above are ramblings and disjointed.

I'd appreciate your prayers for me, for the foundation, for the lives of Haitian orphans, and for this country.

Bye.

On the way to Haiti

I write this from the Miami, FL airport, on a layover to Port-Au-Prince.

It's been a pretty crazy past week and a half. Last last Fri, I got a phone call from R, the attorney who's been in Haiti for the past 2 months. She asked if I'd be able to come in about a week and a half.

So, the past week was filled with trying to wrap things up with work (haven't completely finished with that, but hope to do so through email and the web), shopping for supplies, scheduling vaccinations, and meeting with friends. Wonderful, yes. Exhilirating, that too. Tiring--extremely.

Tues, Wed, Thurs, I drove to Fresno for some teaching and tutoring, Fri morning I was in Pasadena for a study group, Sat there was a wedding I attended, and then back to my Bakersfield home for frantic packing, and then the drive to OC.

Sun, I was at my church in OC, and told many of them about the trip
("when are you leaving?"
"about 9:30 tonight"
[surprised reaction]).

And now it's Mon morning, and I'll hopefully be on a plane to Port-Au-Prince in a few hours.

I have the feeling I've once again packed too much stuff. R sent me a link of an organization that had suggestions for its volunteer workers, and it was a pretty long list. And she also suggested I bring 5-7 business casual work outfits (she'd mentioned that sometimes Haitian government officials just happened to drop in, and of course it was on days when she was wearing her most casual clothes). And she also suggested some books, since things can get a little boring sometimes at night, with no reliable electricity. All this is justification, of course, because I tend to have the habit of bringing too much stuff when I go on a trip of more than a night and a day. So almost all I brought was personal: a large checked baggage case, a stuffed carry-on, and a very stuffed backpack.

I wonder if R and S, veteran travelers that they are, had just brought a carry on for personal stuff, and checked in luggage that was purely work related. I rather suspect that to be close to the truth.

Anyway, I'm a little surprised that I'm still functioning with as much activity as I've had (and as little sleep), and also very excited to get there.

As always, I greatly appreciate your prayers. Please pray that I'd keep a good attitude in all circumstances. And that I stay spiritually focused in the next few months.

Thanks.