A Lot Happens in a Week

It's been a full week since my last post, the longest amount of time between posts thus far. I apologize if anyone was dreadfully concerned, due to hurricane Isaac. Our internet provider, AccessHaiti, one of the largest internet providers in the area, only just come back online in the last 24 hours. The smart thing to have done would have been to write during the storm and post once the internet came back up (like Ashley did). What was I thinking?!

Today marks my first week as a teacher. It's pretty heady stuff. Ashley and I have been reflecting on the fact that Haiti teaches you lessons swiftly and with little remorse. Like ripping off a band-aid, the consequences of our ignorance (or inexperience, if you're feeling kind) strike us in one concentrated shot of "Ouch!". I kind of like it that way. Call me a glutton for punishment, but it's a cleaner and more succinct way of getting the point across. My experience at school has been much the same.

We were discussing the definition of culture shock, the other day, and wondering if we'd really sustained any, as of yet. I think the biggest adjustment has been in regards to the pace of change. The ball is slow to get rolling here, and never gathers much speed. Bucking the system is a sure-fire way to get what you want and doesn't seem to incur much wrath or resentment. Turns out it's a dog-eat-dog world, and I'm getting left behind for fear of creating waves.

I did say that I was looking forward to going back to the basics, finding out how lean I could live. I didn't think of how that might affect my classroom or teaching style. I've finally received shelves for my classroom library, although i'll need more. I don't have a white board. Or an extension cord for my projector. All of these things seem trivial until they are missing. My tool box is incomplete and i'm using a screwdriver, where I need a hammer. The silver lining here is that I am being forced to discover just how creative I can be. How do I mask what feels make-shift to me? My job as a teacher is to fill the gaps with meaningful, authentic, and enduring learning opportunities. Do I need a whiteboard to make that happen is the question. Right now it feels like I do, but I'm hoping that in a little while I will have filled my tool box with alternative, practical, effective solutions.

I'm starting to feel as though I'm creating a routine. 5:30 wake-up, breakfast and coffee at 6:15, out the door and at my desk by 6:50. Miraculous silence until 7:30 when I go down to the school yard to greet my grade 7s. Homeroom. Periods 1, 2, lunch, 3, 4. A solid hour and a half of work, again at my desk in blissful peace. Home, or Geant, our local grocery store -unless it's tuesday (my favourite day of the week), in which case ULTIMATE! Once home, my productivity takes a bit of a dive. Invariably there's a glass of wine involved and dinner, before I get back to lesson planning. Bed by 9:30 (if we're being realistic, it's more like 10:15). I'm starving for more physical activity but the logistics are hard to iron out. Eventually, the routine will expand and solidify but for right now, it's nice to have some sort of consistency to which to cling.

The comforting thought to which I also cling is that daily life in Haiti will never be this hard to figure out again.

First Day O' School Part 1

First of all, my sense of time is all messed-up. Why isn't it September? Why aren't the days interminable, and the air tinged with youthful disappointment that summer has failed to, yet again, last forever?

Oh that's right, because I'm in Haiti. At 19 degrees north of the Equator, we may as well be sitting on it, the heat and humidity are so intense. The days begin at 6am and end at roughly 7pm. There are no leaves to watch change colour and the air will never crisp up, as winter encroaches on balmy fall evenings. And yet, here we are, the first day of school, August 22, 2012. A definite record for me!

This morning, I was up before dawn. Because traffic in Port-au-Prince is atrocious, we tend to leave a good 30-45 minutes before we're scheduled to be anywhere, and since opening assembly started at 7:45 this morning, it made for a really early wake-up call. As I was hustling out the door, I couldn't remember if I had brushed my teeth or not...so I grabbed what I needed and took my (gong) show on the road. Fortunately, we arrived at school with plenty of time to spare -enough in fact, for me to (brush my teeth AND) learn how to tie my roommates' bow tie from a youtube video. Some might say i'm a woman of many obscure talents....I digress.

I had a few last minute things to take care of in my classroom, before heading downstairs to greet parents and students. As the number of people bussing cheeks became overwhelming, I hid behind the table full of croissants and made friends with the ladies who run the PTA. I was recruited, introduced, and thoroughly questioned. These women, as it turns out, are the true movers and shakers at the school, and I was in total awe.

At 7:45 we rounded up what I hoped were our students and proceeded to settle into our seats at assembly. What I expected to be a staid affair, quickly turned into quite the party.

Wednesday Warnings.

The predicted hurricane or the first day of school...I could not tell you which is more terrifying at the moment. Both shall pass, I just cross my fingers that it'll be with little damage and less scarring!

“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door… You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.” The Fellowship of the Ring -J.R.R. Tolkien.

I woke up this morning to a spider bite on my swollen eyelid and I thought "Great, I get to look like Quasimodo, on the first day of school." As it turned out, it was a omen of worse things to come. Hunger, general crankiness, and the overwhelming sense of being behind on a job that has yet to even begin. The good news? My belly's now full, my eyelid has shrunk to it's usually proportions, and I can all but hear the Zzzzzzs, as I crawl into bed. 

"The world breaks us all. Afterward, some are stronger at the broken places." Farewell To Arms -Ernest Hemingway.

Tomorrow, my task is to decorate my classroom. This quote is going above the door, so that all those who exit my class, will take this promise and carry it with them for the three minutes they have until their next lesson begins." 

"Promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Winne the Pooh, A.A. Milne.

Ugh...or as they say in Kreyol...oush!

First day of classes starts Wednesday. I haven't even been into my classroom, i've yet to see a class list, and here I am, postponing my early bedtime, posting blog entries about lesson plan ideas that I won't be implementing until, like, November...at least my few Kreyol words have an opportunity to be used, even if it is in exasperation.

Jerry: Tagger Extraordinare

I've recently been noticing the amount of graffiti on the walls of my Péguy-ville neighbourhood, in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. I've decided to use it as part of my grade 7 English course curriculum. One of the standards to which I must teach, is "students describe persuasive messages in non-print media [...]". Because students drive by these messages everyday on their way to school, I figure it'll be a relevant and tangible source of material for this goal. I will post the lesson plans that pertain to this particular project as soon as they are finalized -will also post a quick note about how it went over! 

Below is the work of graffiti artist Jerry Moise Rosembert on walls in Port au Prince. You can find his social-politically inspired work all around the capital. Jerry cuts a fine line with his images by portraying the suffering of Haitians without directly criticising anyone in power. He doesn't speak out against individual politicians, but many of his images imply criticism of the way the country is run. 'All those parties they never do anything for the country,' he says. 'If you want to help the country, help it with your heart, not by getting played by a system.' More...

For more information on Jerry and to see more of his work check out this blog entry! 

The Hundred Languages of Children

The child is made of one hundred.

The child has

a hundred languages

a hundred hands

a hundred thoughts

a hundred ways of thinking

of playing, of speaking.

A hundred. Always a hundred

ways of listening

of marveling, of loving

a hundred joys

for singing and understanding

a hundred worlds

to discover

a hundred worlds

to invent

a hundred worlds

to dream.

The child has

a hundred languages

(and a hundred hundred hundred more)

but they steal ninety-nine.

The school and the culture

separate the head from the body.

They tell the child:

to think without hands

to do without head

to listen and not to speak

to understand without joy

to love and to marvel

only at Easter and at Christmas.

They tell the child:

to discover the world already there

and of the hundred

they steal ninety-nine.

They tell the child:

that work and play

reality and fantasy

science and imagination

sky and earth

reason and dream

are things

that do not belong together.

And thus they tell the child

that the hundred is not there.

The child says:

No way. The hundred is there.

-Loris Malaguzzi, Founder of the Reggio Emilia Approach

Favorite Education Quotes

"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." 

-William Butler Yeats, Irish poet

"I have never let my schooling interfere with my education." 

-Mark Twain

"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning to sail my ship."

-Aeschylus

"Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants."

-John W. Gardner

"I like a teacher who gives you something to take home to think about besides homework." 

-Edith Ann

Ultimate in Port-au-Prince!

Yesterday (Saturday), Ashley, David, and I set off to play some Ultimate in a friendly, mostly expat, league in PaP. When we got there we made the rounds, introducing ourselves by name and nationality. Turns out there are quite a few Canadians that play regularly! For the most part, everyone works for an NGO or an embassy. It was interesting to speak to people who had been here for spans of time ranging from 2 months to several years. It certainly seemed like I am fortunate to have such a good set-up and support network through the school. There was a fair amount of cynicism and exasperation going around about Haiti and peoples' experiences in the country. The adventure is still very fresh for me, but somehow, I have a hard time believing i'll ever be as jaded as some of the people I spoke to yesterday. I guess I should be thankful that I have youthful resilience and idealism on my side...

Ultimate was exactly what I'd been missing since arriving in Haiti. It was the first real physical activity I have had the opportunity to engage in, and getting my heart rate up helped clear my head. I could feel the endorphins pumping throughout the ride back to the apartment complex! Nothing like running your ass off in 30+ degree heat. I don't think I've ever been so sweaty. The caliber of ultimate is slightly lower than what I became accustomed to in Kingston, but I can't wait to go out again next week. Our teams were microcosms of the population of Haiti and at any one time you were guaranteed to overhear at least three different languages being spoken. There are quite a few players that are new to the game so teaching the fundamentals will be fun. There are very few girls who play, so marking for us is easy but getting our hands on the frisbee is a little tougher.

What I'm most excited about (besides actually playing) is the additional dimension the league adds to my social life. Everyone at the apartment complex is great but it'll be nice to get away and interact with different people on a regular basis.

The down side to playing Ultimate in Haiti is the wind. She was ablowin' something fierce! Made more some frustrating plays, and apparently it keeps up like this until October...which makes sense given that hurricane season lasts until November. Just one more example of why the expression "This is Haiti!" was coined. Not even something as simple as a game of Ultimate can be uncomplicated for long in this country.

A Few Quick Tidbits...

1. The Haitian currency is a gourde. 42 gourdes = $1 USD. There also exists a third "mental" currency called the Haitian dollar. Back in the day, the gourde was much stronger and $1 USD = 5 gourdes. This simple rate of exchange stuck and thus emerged the Haitian dollar, which is still used today despite the decrease of the value of the gourde.

2. Haiti is technically in the same time zone as Toronto. However, according to most digital devices it should be an hour behind. The President of the Republic of Haiti, Joseph Michel Martelly, decided to advance the national time by 60 minutes on the second Sunday of March from 2:00 AM. This schedule change was made ​​in order to optimize energy consumption in the country during the summer. By the same decree dated March 7, 2012, the President of the Republic also decided to decrease the time by 60 minutes on the first Sunday of November 2012. 

3. In Haiti, people take great pride in their appearance. Everyone is impeccably groomed and well dressed, not a wrinkle in sight! Grooming activities are considered social events because they can be found everywhere and are inexpensive. 

4. Haitian people expect to be greeted often throughout the day, and saying "Bonjour" or "Bon soir" is considered a must in order to maintain a good relationship. Like in France, Haitians will exchange kisses on the cheek as a greeting. Often they will just kiss one cheek but occasionally they'll go for the other as well. It is good practice to get to an event early so that, as people arrive, they come to you to greet you. Upon arrival, you must kiss everyone who is already in attendance, otherwise you risk offending someone! 

That being said, I have to get to bed. There will be lots of kissing tomorrow, as it is the first day of all-faculty training. All teachers, new and returning, will be prepping their classrooms, updating their moodles, fine-tuning course outlines, and attending meetings. I hope my classroom has finished under-going it's facelift...nothing like a fresh coat of paint and a white board to spruce up the place!

My 1st Taste of Culture Shock and it's Sweeter than Expected!

So how’s this for culture shock…maid service is part of the housing package the school puts together for their “import teachers”. It’s a bit misleading as we are responsible for their wages, however the cultural norm is for the upper echelons of Haitian society to employ women to clean their houses. This is probably one of the very few places in the world where teachers rank among the wealthy.

Lucienne cleans our bathrooms, our kitchens, does the laundry and ironing, will go to the marché for us (she gets the sweet deals and amazing local produce, as she can haggle in Kreyol and I cannot…yet) AND cooks us three meals a week.

I’ve gone around and around with the weird hierarchy that is involved, the guilt at having someone else do my dirty work (pun intended), and the trust issues that come up with giving unrestricted access to your home (including money, ID, and belongings) to a relative stranger.

The conclusion I’ve reached is (and this is based on feedback from several members of our staff team both Haitian and American) that while I will have to be vigilant regarding my belongings, be clear on my expectations, and maintain a distant but respectful relationship with Lucienne, it’s a pretty sweet deal. Although I think it's self-serving, it was pointed out to me that it also provides much needed jobs for people who may not otherwise have them. 

Old Habits Die Hard.

I wonder how long it'll take me to stop reaching for the taps when I brush my teeth.

Potable, running water is such a luxury.

Just a Coupla First Timers...

Today was another day of firsts. First sighting and tour of the school (like a chump, I forgot my camera), first introductions to faculty and staff, first brief look at my course load, first Haitian bank account, first trip to the grocery store, first time handling Haitian Gourdes (local currency), first home-cooked meal in our apartment, first (sweet, sweet) glass of wine…you’re catching on I’m sure.

On this big day, I felt a bit like I was riding a roller coaster. Usually, I’m a big fan of roller coasters; the slow lurching climb, the hollow-stomach sensation before you pitch over the apex and your heart is jammed up your throat, from which a shriek is ripped by the sheer thrill of the experience. This was not akin to that feeling in the least. Today, I was riding the Wild Mouse. You know that stupid ride with the tiny little sardine can-size cars you cram yourself into, voluntarily inducing claustrophobia, only to rap your knees and elbows on every tight turn and jarring drop, and leave feeling slightly nauseous and light-headed? Ugh. One minute I was over the moon with my awesome course load, the next I was devastated by the lack of a white board in my classroom. I was thrilled at the supportiveness of the school’s leadership team, then totally discouraged by the Haitian banking system.

Despite the wild ride today, I’m feeling really good about my decision to come to Haiti. I know it’s an adjustment (or 2…) but it’s always been in my nature to want to rush the process. Thank god Ashley is here with me and we can air our grievances in private to each other, share in the triumph and awe of the moment, and throw each other worried glances when we find ourselves totally out of our element!

For those of you who are interested, I am teaching the following:

English 7 A

English 7 B

English 8 A

English 8 B

Reading/Writing 7

Creative Writing 8 (AWESOME!!!)

4 periods a day, 2 day rotating schedule. All I can say now is…bring on the students. 

Photo Essay

Aug. 11. 2012. D-day (departure that is...) 4 am comes early people! 

So much adventure at our fingertips... 

...but what to do with it all?!

I love Florida for it's Coconut M&Ms! 

We're off the plane, we've run the gauntlet, and we survived.

 Aug. 12. 2012. First full day in Haiti, at the beach! 

A little morning fog... 

The coastline.

More coastline... 

Free enterprise: snorkels and masks for rental and boating tours! 

By noon the place was packed! 

This is where I live...

 Aug. 13. 2012. A few shots from my rooftop!
(1)

(2)

(3)

(4)

(5)

We have decided that our new evening routine will be a post-work glass of wine on our rooftop patio, over-looking the city of Port-au-Prince. I'm gearing myself up to try Haitian Tamarin wine. It's a win-win: if it's tasty than I've found myself a cheap, local, gluten-free bevy; if it's terrible, I can chalk it up to  a "when in Rome..." experiment! 

Seems Apt.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” -Terry Pratchett

Poached from my friend Patience McCann. Thanks for the inspiration! 

An Auspicious Arrival

We landed in Port-au-Prince just after 4pm. The landing had given us a glimpse of the gorgeous Haitian coastline and the dilapidated houses. Ashley and I stepped off the plane with butterflies in our stomachs and doubts in our minds. Since our visas have yet to be processed, we had to leave that part of our customs form blank...unsure of whether or not they were even going to let us in, we left the plane and made our way through the airport.

The heat was the first thing I noticed. It weighs on you and the humidity is so palpable, you inhale it with every breath. We emerged from the building and boarded a bus to (as it turns out) retrieve our luggage and go through customs. We had no idea where we were going so it seemed like a good idea to follow the crowd. It all felt so surreal but an airport is an airport no matter where you are so we just did what came next.

It was obvious that Haitians are an open, friendly, and helpful sort of people. We watched a young man help an elderly women with her bags and there was a great sense of camaraderie on the bus as, from what I can tell of creole, everyone was commiserating over the heat (by the way, you know it's hot when the locals are bitching about it). However, being a foreigner definitely added a different dimension to our interaction. To be perfectly honest I felt pretty uncomfortable and just wanted to be an anonymous face in the crowd, impossible though that was.

We arrived at a hangar which housed both customs and the baggage carousel and queued up. The officer didn’t say a word but nodded his head, which I took to mean he was willing to allow me into his country. One hurdle down, 2 more to go.

Bags everywhere. That would be the only way to explain the situation at the baggage carousel. Some helpful and enterprising soul had taken it upon himself to remove and pile all of the bags that hadn’t been picked off the carousel on the first pass through. Needless to say that out of approximately 50 bags, 49 of them were black…including mine and Ashley’s which were not in the pile. We checked…twice.  Mental panic ensues until the next cart of luggage arrives. We bought carts for two dollars off the guy rolling his thumb against his fingers in the international sign of “show me the money”, which made me feel a little bit better about paying as much for one in Canada (just a heads up, you don’t get a quarter back when you return it in Haiti).

Finally, our bags showed up and we proceeded toward the exit. At this point, we had several men falling over themselves to help us push our carts. Clearly they weren’t in it for the chivalry. We decided to keep the one who told us we had to show our baggage claim tags at the exit in order to prove we were taking the right bags, he seemed helpful. Things got a little awkward when I realized the helpful Anita (the West Jet agent in Toronto, who a) checked our second pieces of luggage for free, and b) sent them all the way through to Haiti, thereby helping us to avoid the excess baggage fee in Ft. Lauderdale as well) had neglected to stick them to the back of my boarding pass…whoops.

Ashley and I, our cart pushers, and EVERYONE else in the airport funneled their way through the narrow exit, handing their immigration form to the last customs agent who barely glanced at them. Second hurdle down, one to go –find our driver...please god.

As we emerged into the heat, and the sea of waiting bodies outside we caught sight of a sign that said Union School but had two names on it that were not ours. He wasn’t there to pick us up and had no idea who we were. He gestured vaguely down toward the parking lot, which I took to mean there was someone else with holding a card with our names on it. So we kept walking. Our cart pushers were relieved of their jobs by two other men, one of which introduced himself as Francois, when he found out I spoke French. I had a bit of a go-around with him when I told him I wasn’t paying him after I had just paid the other guy! It carried on like that until we found our driver and Francois loaded our bags into the van. I had asked a Haitian local on our flight how much I should tip these helpful monsieurs and was told 5 USD. It turns out even that is considered getting hosed.

Suffice it to say that I learned some valuable lessons within my first half-hour in Haiti:

1.    Make sure you have your baggage claim tags when leaving the Port-au-Prince airport.

2.    Not only is it worth shelling out $2 for a cart, but having an airport employee help you navigate the whole airport process is crucial.

3.    Stick with one escort/baggage handler/wheels of bureaucracy greaser…because otherwise you’ll be handing out USD like candy on Halloween.

4.    Be firm, otherwise you’re just a silly girl.

To round out our arrival (and this interminable blog post) we met our driver Theomidore, who broke out into a huge grin when he found out we were Canadian and could speak French. I have a feeling we’ll be great friends. He’s teaching us Kreyol and has a list of must-see places throughout the country to take us to. It’s crazy how quickly the cultural barrier dissolves when you remove the communication impasse!

I’m well aware that this is detail overload but I figured I’d paint a vivid picture while I still feel so inclined and it’s all new. 

Feel free to comment or ask questions, I’m so overwhelmed that it’s hard to decide what to include. Let me know what you wanna know! 

My Haitian Hiatus

My Haitian Hiatus

With a little under two days left to enjoy beautiful Vancouver, BC, until I leave for Haiti and my first international teaching posting, I find myself unable to sleep. Not surprising as I still have the majority of my packing to do and I'm trying (increasingly desperately) to find my to-do list. I've said most of my good-byes...twice...and wish that it wasn't considered rude to just up and leave. I like to pretend that I'm not leaving and that we'll run into each in the grocery store, on the seawall, or on the Grind! For the purposes of this post, I'm going to make an effort to shake off this mood and describe how excited I am to be embarking on this latest adventure. My friend Ashley and I will be living in Petionville, a suburb of Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

At the Union School, I will be teaching grades 6, 7, 8 English, and am looking forward to reigning supreme over my own classroom. Obviously, we've considered the dangers and the culture shock, and have decided to take up the challenge anyway. For the first time ever, linen dominates the fabric of my wardrobe. I am taking as little as possible, and have spent more time considering how i'll manage the heat than how I'll navigate the curriculum. I am thrilled to be moving to a country where voodoo (not the stereotypical definition North Americans think of) is the main religion, where seafood can be found in abundance, and where French is the first official language. As always when I travel I am going with very few preconceived expectations. I can't wait to arrive and soak it all up!

More posts to come. Departure date is Saturday, August 12th.