I was in Haiti most of the past three weeks visiting my parents, who have lived there for the past 4 years. They are currently living in the southern coast of Haiti, a four hour car ride from Port-au-Prince and then 15 minutes on a very bumpy dirt road, so bumpy that one time my head shook so hard that one of my head hairs fell out!! Haha! 
The compound that my parents live in my father helped direct the project with funds from the Taiwanese government: there are six simple one story stucco houses for the local and Taiwanese staff, several office and conference buildings, and a large complex to sun dry, store, and mill rice that is grown locally. It is the only rice processing facility in all of Haiti of its size, and the rice is then sold to an NGO that then distributes it to local hospitals, charities, and schools. The compound is surrounded by fields of sorghum, millet, corn, rice, and rustic farms. It feels like we are "in the middle of nowhere" but really the dirt road continues for miles in several directions and many people live and farm here.
Inside this 12 acre complex, my husband and I spend much time in what feels like a retreat. Many mornings we wake up between 5-6 am to watch the sunrise and meditate; then I practice qi gong while Alex plays his trumpet in choreography to my movements. We read a lot, eat Chinese comfort food from fresh vegetables and seafood, take long naps, Alex plays basketball with the Taiwanese men in the afternoons (I played twice) and go to bed by 9 pm usually because there is no TV nor DVD and the internet connection is unreliable. A few times I venture out to walk along the dirt road to a local store 1/2 mile away where Alex buys beer.
The first time we venture out is a culture shock, even though we know it will be: many people stare, a few stretch their palms out to ask for money, a few children tease us, most people do not greet us, instead they give us what we perceive as a fierce look. We do not speak French nor Kreyol. Being stared at is familiar to us having been in Haiti 3 years ago, it is familiar to me also from having grown up in Central America from age 4-18 and being one of the few Asian people, but Haitians are different from Central Americans.
As we continue to walk down the road, an intuitive message comes to me that the adults and children we pass are deeply absorbing with all their five senses what they were noticing in us as we pass by. I am suddenly aware of what body language, slight facial expression, or thought I may be emitting as I walk and realize that what I perceive from the passerby's may be a mirror to myself. My heart opens to the idea of how strongly intuitive these people may be but Alex reminds me that we all perceive strongly with our senses, the difference is that in this situation we are walking by in silence, there is not that much hustle and bustle around us except for the occasional pickup truck and motorcycle and we are locked momentarily eye to eye, "feeling" each other for the first time. I try to relax.
One thing we learned on our last trip to Haiti is that many Haitians are not that interested in America, being American nor copying mainstream mannerisms of this country; this is quite different from other countries. So with this in mind, and with my desire not to attract even more attention than we would anyway, I step back from my usual longing to "connect" and I just be. So when we reach the store where Alex buys a beer and we sit outside the door on a bench, a group of children stare at us and giggle. They point for me to take off my hat and when I do, they giggle even more. The girls are laughing at my straight hair, so different from theirs. I laugh with them and mime that my hair is not curly and kinky. Alex takes out his recorder and plays a few tunes, one which is Haitian. After the initial few minutes of novelty with his playing, the children turn their attention to the huge flat screen TV with a Chinese martial arts movie that is playing inside the store. This actually makes me feel relaxed to not be the center of attention for a few minutes.
Alex finishes his beer, we thank the store owner, and we walk back on the dirt road. On the way back Alex starts to say Bonjour to some of the passerby's and children who stare. I wave at some of the children. They say hello back and wave. We are all a little more at ease. We get back to the complex and we both feel wiped out from the apparently relaxed stroll down the road. A lot of information is transmitted and absorbed and we both feel the energetic intensity of being alert. I write on my gratitude list all the lessons that I learned from just this brief past hour.
It gets easier for us venturing out. I learn that if I start laughing warm-heartedly at a child when they stare they are likely to laugh back, if I wave they wave, if I say hi they say hi and if I don't say anything and just stroll, it's ok too. I learn from Alex who one time played music into a 3 year old's outstretched palm in response to being asked for money and the boy just laughed and so did his family, that I don't have to feel the need to give something material when someone we pass asks us for something. I learn to be comfortable either to blow the child a kiss in the air, to laugh in genuine amusement at their audacity, to say no without any anger or guilt, and that most of the time they will be ok with that.
I walk with Alex a few more times, once we go to the convent school nearby where my parents buy eggs, fresh baked bread, and chicken. Alex feels the need to walk and interact more than I do, so he gets familiar with some of the children down the road as he plays music out; he is also taken to a full moon drumming party in the woods across from our complex where he says the rhythms were intense but the people were relaxed.
On one of the last days there, we play for a family of children, their mom, and nearby relatives in their front yard. The oldest girl in this family had been adopted to the USA, so she speaks perfect English and tell us that many people on the road wonder where we walk to, these two foreigners, and why Alex always carries a backpack with bottles clinking inside. When he explains it's to return the beer bottles, the girl points us to a store owned by her cousin that is much much closer, but without her telling us we would never have known, there is now sign outside. Similar situation, the children start out looking and smiling at us shyly as we play Latin American songs, the two Haitian songs we know, and a few Christmas carols. Soon they want to hear more Haitian compa rhythms for them to sing to and before long they are singing at the top of their lungs a host of Kreyol chants and songs, for the pure fun of expressing all "yang" energy. Just like a wave that builds momentum coming towards the coast, and then crashes and recedes, so does our little gathering. We say bye to everyone amidst laughs, smiles, waves, and giggles.
In many situations, we are reminded that Haitians are a diverse group, even within this 5 mile dirt road of maybe 100 people: they can be proudly silent, fierce, hard working, some may be dramatic and opportunistic. One big difference from Asian culture, they are not afraid to ask for what they want. There is a general feeling that regardless of how "bad" we on the outside think and see things in Haiti, the Haitians don't really feel there is a problem the way we from the outside feel there are problems. They are a proud, complex, and diverse group of people.
The first time we venture out is a culture shock, even though we know it will be: many people stare, a few stretch their palms out to ask for money, a few children tease us, most people do not greet us, instead they give us what we perceive as a fierce look. We do not speak French nor Kreyol. Being stared at is familiar to us having been in Haiti 3 years ago, it is familiar to me also from having grown up in Central America from age 4-18 and being one of the few Asian people, but Haitians are different from Central Americans.
As we continue to walk down the road, an intuitive message comes to me that the adults and children we pass are deeply absorbing with all their five senses what they were noticing in us as we pass by. I am suddenly aware of what body language, slight facial expression, or thought I may be emitting as I walk and realize that what I perceive from the passerby's may be a mirror to myself. My heart opens to the idea of how strongly intuitive these people may be but Alex reminds me that we all perceive strongly with our senses, the difference is that in this situation we are walking by in silence, there is not that much hustle and bustle around us except for the occasional pickup truck and motorcycle and we are locked momentarily eye to eye, "feeling" each other for the first time. I try to relax.
One thing we learned on our last trip to Haiti is that many Haitians are not that interested in America, being American nor copying mainstream mannerisms of this country; this is quite different from other countries. So with this in mind, and with my desire not to attract even more attention than we would anyway, I step back from my usual longing to "connect" and I just be. So when we reach the store where Alex buys a beer and we sit outside the door on a bench, a group of children stare at us and giggle. They point for me to take off my hat and when I do, they giggle even more. The girls are laughing at my straight hair, so different from theirs. I laugh with them and mime that my hair is not curly and kinky. Alex takes out his recorder and plays a few tunes, one which is Haitian. After the initial few minutes of novelty with his playing, the children turn their attention to the huge flat screen TV with a Chinese martial arts movie that is playing inside the store. This actually makes me feel relaxed to not be the center of attention for a few minutes.
Alex finishes his beer, we thank the store owner, and we walk back on the dirt road. On the way back Alex starts to say Bonjour to some of the passerby's and children who stare. I wave at some of the children. They say hello back and wave. We are all a little more at ease. We get back to the complex and we both feel wiped out from the apparently relaxed stroll down the road. A lot of information is transmitted and absorbed and we both feel the energetic intensity of being alert. I write on my gratitude list all the lessons that I learned from just this brief past hour.
It gets easier for us venturing out. I learn that if I start laughing warm-heartedly at a child when they stare they are likely to laugh back, if I wave they wave, if I say hi they say hi and if I don't say anything and just stroll, it's ok too. I learn from Alex who one time played music into a 3 year old's outstretched palm in response to being asked for money and the boy just laughed and so did his family, that I don't have to feel the need to give something material when someone we pass asks us for something. I learn to be comfortable either to blow the child a kiss in the air, to laugh in genuine amusement at their audacity, to say no without any anger or guilt, and that most of the time they will be ok with that.
I walk with Alex a few more times, once we go to the convent school nearby where my parents buy eggs, fresh baked bread, and chicken. Alex feels the need to walk and interact more than I do, so he gets familiar with some of the children down the road as he plays music out; he is also taken to a full moon drumming party in the woods across from our complex where he says the rhythms were intense but the people were relaxed.
On one of the last days there, we play for a family of children, their mom, and nearby relatives in their front yard. The oldest girl in this family had been adopted to the USA, so she speaks perfect English and tell us that many people on the road wonder where we walk to, these two foreigners, and why Alex always carries a backpack with bottles clinking inside. When he explains it's to return the beer bottles, the girl points us to a store owned by her cousin that is much much closer, but without her telling us we would never have known, there is now sign outside. Similar situation, the children start out looking and smiling at us shyly as we play Latin American songs, the two Haitian songs we know, and a few Christmas carols. Soon they want to hear more Haitian compa rhythms for them to sing to and before long they are singing at the top of their lungs a host of Kreyol chants and songs, for the pure fun of expressing all "yang" energy. Just like a wave that builds momentum coming towards the coast, and then crashes and recedes, so does our little gathering. We say bye to everyone amidst laughs, smiles, waves, and giggles.
In many situations, we are reminded that Haitians are a diverse group, even within this 5 mile dirt road of maybe 100 people: they can be proudly silent, fierce, hard working, some may be dramatic and opportunistic. One big difference from Asian culture, they are not afraid to ask for what they want. There is a general feeling that regardless of how "bad" we on the outside think and see things in Haiti, the Haitians don't really feel there is a problem the way we from the outside feel there are problems. They are a proud, complex, and diverse group of people.
The land is still beautiful and abundant, despite areas of deforestation.
