The results were on time Monday night, at 18h00 as expected. And crowds of young people poured into the streets as Michel Martelly was announced to be ahead 2:1 for the preliminary results. Yes - it has happened - it looks as though the Haitian people elected a carnavale singer as their next president. With such a large margin, there is very little chance that the outcome will be different later this month when they announce the final results.
On the television, there were live streams of pink-clad supporters jovially waving Tet Kale posters in the streets, and we could hear gunshots and other Booms occurring around town. Then the scene cut to what seemed like a commercial - but was in fact a Martelly music video. Yes, the future president wearing a kangol hat, silly sunglasses, bopping around to a soft carnavale song. It became clear during the presidential debates that he didn't know the Haitian constitution; he has never been involved in politics in his life. And now he's won essentially a popularity contest by inundating the country with pink swag. What is going to happen to this poor country now? Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
What has happened is option 3 as we (un)expected: due to fraud allegations, the announcement of preliminary results has been pushed back to Monday. This is why we can never hold any expectations of anything here. In other news, last night another unexpected event: going to an Arcade Fire concert. It was held at the Oloffson Hotel, which, if you've ever read up on Haiti, you'd know holds a particular significance here, from Graham Greene to RAM. It is definitely worth looking up - the richness of its history emanates from the Baron Samedi at the staircase, the white "gingerbread" verandas. Sometime late yesterday afternoon I was asked if I wanted to go to an Arcade Fire concert - they were going to play with RAM. I knew AF had been quite involved with Haiti through their foundation here, and they've gone through to visit many times before. And I like their music! So why not? I arrived to find, like in so many events here, almost all my friends there. As I hung around a table talking to a friend, a couple of people started bringing some guitars and drums to the space next to us, and before I knew it the band was standing next to me, tuning up. So I ended up seated about two arms' lengths from the latest grammy winners, completely by coincidence and surprise. It was thrilling to watch a band so up close, seeing their expressions and small gestures. What a treat, and what a lovely Tuesday night! Definitely worth the small lack of sleep for today... Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
I start with a parenthesis - today there is a national strike of taptap drivers protesting the rise in petrol prices. This means that our drivers are less likely to show up, but it is also likely that there is much less traffic on the street once the drivers do show up and we are mobile.
This week is the continuation of all the election hubub: preliminary results of the second round are due on Thursday. As always, we expect and don't expect things at the same time. Whatever we expect, it is sure it will not happen. But if we do not expect anything, we will be stuck in our houses with not enough water, gas, or food (this has happened). So we are tentatively preparing for a lockdown to up to a week. It means a lot of canned food. And if we don't have a lockdown, I will be eating tinned sardines for a month. The results on Thursday would logically be one of two choices: (1) martelly wins or (2) manigat wins. Again, these are the preliminary results so they are not end-all (as we saw in the first round, results can change), but they are close enough that people will react strongly. So. Outcome (1) would be one that anyone in paup would predict. Every morning it seems we are greeted by the caribbean sun reflecting on martelly's bald head, with his face plastered on every crevice of concrete wall in the city. He has extraordinary support here, especially amongst the young people who have always adored the carnavale singer. Even at a a party this weekend, the dj put on a tune, and people flooded the dance floor, "tet kale! Prezidan!" If martelly wins, the streets will likely be "hot" with jubilant throngs of pink supporters, especially in the city. But it probably won't last too long. On the other hand (2) would mean trouble in paup. I would imagine there would not be any more tires left in the city; they would all be burned to their metal filaments. Despite the apparent landslide for martelly in paup, this outcome is not all that unlikely either. Manigat (sagely, I think) apparently gave up on paup to solicit voters. Instead she focused her energy on campaigning in the provinces to not only curry their favour but to also urge them to vote at all. That is one big drawback for martelly's fanbase here in paup - they sport the pink shirts and caps but aren't as dedicated in actually going to the voting booths. Or, they're too young to vote. So what has happened is that there is a higher voter turnout rate in the provinces than in paup, and manigat has a much stronger hold of the provinces in general than martelly. Will these two factors be enough to tip the numbers in manigat's favour? Now I will still keep the doors open for the chances of a (3) - an entirely illogical outcome - happening. In fact, we should just take off the door altogether, it's so likely. Finally, probably worth mentioning aristide's continued sejour in haiti. Nothing has happened yet, but we are, as always, expecting nothing and everything of it. All in all, we have no idea what we're waiting for. But we know we're waiting for something. Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
As a long overdue follow to the fundraising efforts in February for Mickerson's netbook, I wanted to let everyone know how much we have successfully raised: $565.25
This was a very quick call to action, where I received an overwhelmingly positive response -- thank you so much for your generosity!!!
As the netbook itself did not cost that much, we still have over 300 dollars to use towards other aspects: Please let me know if you have a preference on how your donation is used. I am very open to find a way to make your money count in the way you want
- For the moment, as Oxygen is a constant but costly item for the TB ward, some of the money will likely go towards purchasing Oxygen. Your money would keep a patient alive for three days -- at which point many patients are able to decrease their oxygen use or come off it completely. The oxygen offers the bridge to survival when a patient comes in with sat levels below 80.
- Another use would be food, which is, as you can imagine, a critical purchase for the ward. There are usually at least 30 in-patients who are suffering not only from a variety of diseases, but also from malnutrition. We try to give them Bongu () or Mamba (Haitian peanut butter) to nourish them.
If you are still interested in donating, we will always be happy to receive more help! There are always more patients, and there will always be a need.
===== A few new photos uploaded in the Carnavale post, finally!
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I leave you with a sunset I saw last week after a meeting -- sometimes it's not too bad living in the Caribbean:
It's finally here, the second round of elections. The entire election schedule's been postponed so much I don't even remember when it was supposed to occur. But on Sunday, at last, Mirlande Manigat and Michel "Sweet Micky" Martelly face off for the Haitian presidency. The final results are slated to be announced 16 April. But, as always, anything can change.
I've written about these folks before, but as we hit another milestone in the (never-ending) election process, I'm putting down a few more thoughts.
First off, Manigat. - Who is she? Wife of a former (brief) president, and she is a law professor. An academic, an intellectual - Who wants her in the National Palace (ie white house)? Middle to upper class (given there is a negligible middle class in this country), the elites. - Campaign color: green - Campaign slogan: Nou tout dako - we all agree - What else to know: a smart lady, but not in touch with the general public (especially in comparison to martelly, more on him below). During the one-on-one debates last week, she sounded calm and directed.
Then we have Martelly. - Who is he? A carnavale singer. Seriously. - Who wants him in the National Palace? The young people, the poorer people - they know him from carnavale and concerts. His music is fun - Campaign color: pink. Very pink - Campaign slogan: Tet kale - bald head. Seriously. It is his slogan - What else to know: his marketing campaign is out of control. He has some liaison with Digicel, the country's most prominent telecommunications company, and he has automated messages call every phone - I get calls from him everyday, accompanied by sms messages...even on my US phone, which kind of disturbs me. My boss's parents even get phone calls in Ohio - how is he getting these numbers? And furthermore, what a waste of resources, as he is clearly spending a fair amount of resources reaching out to a population that has zero voting power, or even sway. He also has inundated the country with his pink shirts, hats, banners, fliers - his shining bald head smiles down on us with extraordinary pinkness on the walls, above the streets, on the backs of pedestrians, in bathrooms, on tap taps rattling by. As if that wasn't enough, he's also making the rounds in person around the country; I've seen him in the hotel across the street from my office, at carnavale in Jacmel, and he was to come to the Jeremie airport the day I was flying out. I'm attaching one photo now that I just took out my window. Pink = martelly. But one unfortunate thing is that he doesn't know much about politics - the constitution, international relations...he's just riding on popularity at the moment, which is fine, but now as it is getting more likely that he's going to win (right now about a 3 to 5 point lead in polls), there is growing concern: what does this actually mean? He's never led anything before in his life. He's a carnavale singer. We've joked in the past that if Martelly becomes president, he'd give presidential concerts at the Palace. We never thought it may actually come true... But on the other hand, I don't know if Manigat is the answer for Haiti either. This country is in desperate need of someone who can make decisions, decentralize to competent ministers, and develop a strong, constructive relationship with international partners. I just haven't gotten that aura from either candidate. I've just got a lot of calls from Martelly.
Finally, I'm adding in the "ghost" player who has made an appearance yesterday: Aristide. A former president who has been exiled twice, he's a former priest who has been in South Africa in exile for the last 7 years. I guess once Baby Doc came back, he felt left out, so now we've welcomed back another exiled dictator. There has been less activity around his return than expected thus far, but with the elections tomorrow, we are all stocking up on water, gas, and food again just in case of a lockdown. Haiti never fails to keep things interesting. Thanks. Ps - more photos to come up soon once I upload them on my computer Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
My colleague, three minutes ago: "Do you need a car?" (90% of our lives revolves around logistics of sharing cars) "No, I'm good" "Ok. Because I'd like a banana. I'm thinking of sending albert out to get a banana" "Good idea" "But I'm scared." "?" "I'm not really sure what I'm going to get. Yesterday we asked him to get oranges and he came back with sunny D orange juice." An excerpt of our life - as we sit in an office without internet or running water. At least we have electricity! Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
Thank you to all those who sent me messages and prayers for my family and friends in Japan. My family is safe and doing well - grace a dieu, as they would say here - and we continue to hope and pray for the best as the situation continues to evolve. The last three days have shown me, again, just how blessed I am to have thoughtful and caring friends in my life. So many people have reached out to me, from all over the world, and I am truly grateful.
In particular I have been touched by the number of Haitians who have gone out of their way to express their solidarity and empathy to me. Understandably, a devastating earthquake is something that hits very close to home here, and practically every Haitian who knows I am Japanese (almost everyone who knows me know this, as the first question is unfailingly - you're Chinese?) came up to me, concerned about my family and friends. My drivers, my government partners in the Ministry of Health, the patients at the General Hospital. Even the 6-year-old boy at the hospital who was peering in, studying my face while I worked: "Hello there" "...Hi" "My name is Kay. What's your name?" "Ronnie. ... Where are you from?" "Japan and the United States." "Japan is flooded. It's in trouble." "Yes, you're right." "How is your family?" Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. It will be a while before we truly understand the full consequences of this event, and much longer to recover from them. But together, with support from friends and loved ones, it will be possible. As they say here, Nou se wozo - we will not break, we will always stand again. Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
Our flight is at 9am. We arrive at 8am...there is one man in the airport. Also to note: there is only one flight per day out of this airport. Us: "We called the airline in advance and they said the flight was on time. That was thirty minutes ago. Is that still true?" Man: "Well yes the flight is always at 9am." "And so...we're on time?" "No, there is always a delay also." "Right. For how long?" (Nb: the flight is only 45 mins long; it doesn't take much to calculate when the first flight will arrive, which is the plane we take to go back to paup) "Let's say an hour." "...so what do we do now?" "Well you will need to wait for the other people to arrive so that you can check in" "Oh so there are no airport employees here yet." "No, not yet."
Some photos of the airport and runway while we wait... Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
Is here!! Last weekend a group of us ventured down to Jacmel in the South East department to check out what is unanimously called the "pi bel" - most beautiful - carnavale celebration in Haiti. Last year there was no carnavale, as it was too close to the earthquake, and the country was in no shape for floats and parades. I suppose even now, the roads and plazas aren't exactly cleared and ready for a big parade - with rubble and tents galore - but mentally, people have healed enough to want to enjoy a celebration that is in fact something quite important to them. Carnavale is the same idea we have in Brazil and Mardi Gras in New Orleans - it is the big Go All Out before Ash Wednesday, and subsequently Lent. Here in Haiti each major city/ neighborhood celebrates its own carnavale on different days. In Jacmel it started last Friday until Sunday night (ie Monday morning). From what I saw, there are two big components: (1) the music & hooplah ; and (2) history & culture.
(1) is what we think of carnavale - dancing, bands, loud music (including michel martelly, very possible haitian president in the next few months). A bit of craziness. This mostly occurs at night. Because we went during the day, (2) is what we saw a lot of. And it was very peculiar and quite interesting. Lots of people dressed up as slaves (?), bound together in a line, getting beaten by others dressed as colonials. Others painted in black, running through the crowds and sullying them with their paint. I have no idea what they represent,but they certainly got the crowd screaming. There were scores of people in beautiful, awesome paper-mache masks. Paper mache in sizes I had never seen before. This wasn't our paper mache with Mrs Feldman in 4th grade. This was an entire adult-sized costume of an eagle with flapping wings - all made of paper-mache. All in all it was sunny, colorful, and full of fried plantains, which made up 95% of our meals for the day. -more photos to come- Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
THANK YOU to friends and family: DW, MS, MF, RN, CN + other N's, MN, NN, JV, TC, NH. We did it! Mickerson got his gift! Your positive response was so wonderful. It is with your support and generosity that allowed this big smile:
If you are still -- or newly -- interested in helping in a small but concrete way for Haiti:
Whether specifically for Mickerson (more on him below!), or to the overall costs of running the TB ward at the General Hospital -- please email me. I have a few ways you can send in any contribution you are willing to give! If you don't have my contact information, please leave a comment below, and I will be sure to get back to you. In the future, we are still looking for support in the following (and please feel free to choose which cause you would like to support if you want): - schooling for TB patients' children - they often come to the hospital to help take care of parents and not go to school: $200/ year - oxygen refills for TB patients (~7-8 patients at a given time on oxygen): $100/ person/ day - transport for outpatients to come in to get TB medications (400+ outpatients, 6-month treatment regime): $30 can cover roundtrip costs to the farthest places in the country - food for TB inpatients: $8 can be enough to get a very big meal to feed multiple patients for a day - portable oxygen machines - Mickerson eventual - hopefully soon! - discharge fund: rent for new place ($2000/ yr/ family of 10) + generator/ petrol fund for his oxygen machine ($500 for generator ; ~$100/mth for petrol)
THANK YOU again, hugely, for all the support -- in any form -- that you all have shown me thus far.
Mickerson. He is 22 years old now, and he's a patient at the TB ward in the General Hospital (HUEH). He was admitted to HUEH over a year ago, right after the earthquake, when he came in unable to breathe. Maybe he had TB (I don't actually know), but he has cystic lung disease, which basically has ruined his lungs over time, and now he is entirely dependent on his oxygen tube to breathe, to survive.
When I first visited what used to be the TB 'tents' at HUEH back in August, Mickerson's cot was next to another boy's who was about the same age as him. As usual, both Mickerson and the boy were very interested in where I was from - China? - New York, but yes, with origins from Japan. Immediately, Mickerson was intrigued -- he wanted to learn some phrases in Japanese. So I gave him a few -- good afternoon, see you later. Up to this point, nothing really struck me. People here are always interested in hearing me say things that sound like gibberish, and calling it a language.
But when I went back to the tents three days later, Mickerson greeted me in Japanese. He had written down what I taught him and memorized the phrases. This was initiative like I had never seen before. As sad as it is for me to say it, it is very rare to see people here take initiative into doing something themselves for the sake of bettering themselves, for learning, for exploring. If it leads to money - no matter how little - you can count on them being there. But if not, you're best to just forget the whole affair, and if you mention it again afterwards, it's undoubtedly "pa fot mwen" - not my fault. But something about Mickerson was different. He wanted to reach for more than what he is now. He had hopes, and he would put in the effort to achieve them. It really struck me.
From then on I would spend some time with Mickerson every time I went to the TB ward -- and because of his reliability, honesty, and -sadly- permanent presence, over time he became the guardian of the ward, especially when Dr Coffee was out (for example, during the night). The wrench for fixing the oxygen tanks? That's under his pillow. The syringes for thoracotomies? In a box under his bed. While the patients moved from tent to a box to a yellow building to, finally, a temporary structure, Mickerson often got the most outward-facing cot, next to the door, as the first face you see upon entering.
But because his family's house, like so many others, was destroyed in the earthquake, and because his family (including 10 siblings) can not afford electricity, Mickerson is forced to stay at the hospital for the foreseeable future, not going to school, hardly ever leaving his cot, tied to his oxygen tank.
[Mickerson with his mother]
Valentine's Day was Mickerson's 22nd birthday. It also marked, coincidentally, more or less his one-year mark being hospitalized. To give him a chance to read, write, and also have a diversion while he sits at his bed everyday, we decided to grant him a wish he has had for a long time: a netbook. But given the costs that the TB ward incurs on a daily basis -- Dr Coffee pays for the oxygen, the food, the transport, and most everything else out of pocket until she gets some help, as HUEH pays for none of it -- it would have been difficult to shoulder the costs ourselves. So I reached out to a few friends to chip in, and I had an amazing response -- we were able to raise enough money to cover the netbook within a week, and even more!
I am now trying to get him set up on different ways he can learn how to be a citizen of the internet world, and show him ways to keep learning despite not being in school. We hope that we'll be able to find a solution for his lodging soon so that he can be discharged, go to school, and be with his family.
Thank you again for all those who helped out so far, and thank you to all for your constant support in my adventures here. I can't do it without you.
"If god wishes" is a phrase that is used in practically every aspect of conversation here. "I'll come see you on Monday." "Oh that sounds good because I work Tuesdays and Wednesdays, si dieu veut, and may not be home in time" Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
[Situation: trying to confirm that a car has indeed gone to fetch Taryn from a meeting - something we spoke about 20 minutes ago. There is a group of our drivers hanging out on the sidewalk outside our office]
K: Hi who went to get Taryn? D: ...? K: Someone needed to go get Taryn. Who went? D: (shrugs all over, aloofly) I don't know. K: OK so is there a car that left? D: Yes, the Grey Prado's gone K: Who was in it? D: I don't know K: OK, what did they go do? D: Oh they went to look for someone K: Who? D: (matter of factly) I don't know
Conclusion: Someone, we don't know who, went to go get someone, we don't know who.
...the "dry" season that I waited for eight months has now officially come to an end in the middle of my tenth month. Most things I read said that the rainy season runs from March through November. Granted, it's only one data point (i.e., one year), but it seems like the rainy season runs from mid-February to early December. At this point it's pushing it to call it a "season." It's more like, "Weather in Haiti for next 365 days = Sunny and beautiful during the day, torrential rain 18h30 - 20h00." And some days, like any other place, the forecast is off.
But one perk is that Haitian lightning sparks in extraordinary colors. Green, purple, blue ... and if you are at the right viewpoint, because the country is so poorly wired, for the split second you are able to see a large silhouette of the entire city that falls into complete blackness again. And the thunder is amazing!!
And as always, I write this thinking of the millions of people living under a piece of plastic in the plazas across the city --
As work is picking up quite a bit in the land of the MoH, I sadly haven't been able to complete writing a post for a while. I have at least three started...
So I am going to try something a bit new and post on the go - I am currently sitting in what we call the Grey Prado and heading into work, sitting in traffic as always. It is about a 40 minute ride to work everyday, but when you go late at night when there is no traffic it is possible to get there in about 10 minutes. Port-au-Prince has an appearance of a big city because we have to allocate at least 30 minutes to get most anywhere (don't ever believe the haitians who say it will be 15 minutes aller-retour, roundtrip, as that means they will be roughly 35 minutes late). But it's only because there is so much traffic, and the roads are pretty awful especially once you get off one of the three main roads in town. You don"t realize how small it actually is until around 10pm when you are whizzing to and from places in a fifth of the time you usually spend. Also, the honking. Honking means hello; I see you; do you see me?; move; thanks; look world, I am driving; I found the claxion! Sweet; I am at a corner; you are going fast; you are going slow; we are going at the same pace; I am still alive after driving down this road. Often these honks are accompanied by a rapid flashing of bright lights, giving traffic a feeling of a disco with honking pigs. (There are also pigs on the side of the roads - if they are alive, they are eating trash; if they are dead, they are splayed open in a wheelbarrow, sitting in the sun - both of which are reasons I have decided not to eat pork in this country.) It is certainly never dull; often a little too thrilling for my taste.
Finally, I leave you with a Conversation in Haiti: [Situation two days ago: the water pipe at our office has broken, we haven't had running water in days. We decide to call in a technician to repair it...] Us: how long will it take to fix? Technician: not too long, no no U: (trying to understand what that means) uh, well is it hard to fix, is it easy...? T: ah yes. Well. (Thinking) it should be easy, unless it is hard. Envoyé par mon BlackBerry de Digicel
One of my friends, who has TB and is dependent on oxygen (he took it off for the photo). He's extremely bright and wants to learn but can't go to school because he doesn't have a portable oxygen machine.
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Bill Clinton's private jet against a beautiful sunset. (Yes, I did get to meet him!)
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