Port-au-Prince 101

Paula Drumond, Elise Young and Philipou community members with Action Aid at the 'Cash for Work' project in the Philipou Neighborhood of Port-au-Prince.


I arrived in the Port-au-Prince airport this morning under a hazy, sleep-deprived mental cloud. As we came in for a landing, though, I perked up considerably. Beautiful, mountainous Haiti was quickly approaching.

It has been a long day of meeting people, visiting Action Aid sites, taking pictures of the earthquake’s destructive aftermath and trying to stay awake for my first Haitian dinner. My very first impression of Port-au-Prince is that of a crumbling post-war zone. Every other building has experienced significant damage. Several buildings have collapsed onto themselves. Rubble and trash strew the streets. Makeshift camps populate each intersection, park and open space.

My second impression of Haiti is that people seem to be miraculously coping and moving on with their lives, at least on a surface level. Girls balancing heavy loads on top of their heads navigate over rubble piles with expert grace. Sellers enthusiastically peddle their goods at every corner. Colorful tap-taps whiz around piles of broken mortar with ease. Children are playing. Music is blaring. People are laughing.

Yet, we hear a different story when we take a closer look at one of the camps at Marini, on the outskirts of town. Here, we inspect a new Action Aid model shelter, a small, yet sturdy 2-room home, coordinated with the help of a local organization called COZPAM. This solid building has a stable foundation, a good tin roof and windows to let in the light. We meet Daniella, a laconic forty-something women’s leader who will soon move into the new home with her two young girls and four additional family members. Daniella explains that her community, although starting to get organized, is still in desperate need of help.

In her neighborhood, 1 toilet is available for every 130 people. Food is scarce and presents a daily challenge for survival. Dead bodies on top of the mountain range have contaminated the water source, which is making people sick. Jobs are non-existent and constitute a major barrier against sustainable recovery. And yet, Daniella and her neighborhood are some of the lucky ones. They have occasional food aid and shelter support from Action Aid and UNICEF. They have a sturdy meeting hall for children, youth and community meetings. They are identifying internal leaders, are meeting 3 times per week and are starting to utilize their voice.

 When we ask Daniella and the community members what they would ask for if they had an opportunity to meet with their reclusive mayor, she doesn't hesitate. "We need jobs," shes says firmly. People want to work. People need to work. Although they are thankful for what they have received, donor fatigue is setting in and it has been 22 days since they've seen any food aid. But, they don't really want food aid. That want to buy and produce the food for themselves. Plans for a community garden are already underway, if enough rubble can be removed and water ways unclogged. Daniella herself hopes to run her own business one day. That way, she can have a sustainable source of income for her family and bring much needed clothes and goods into the community.

Despite these hopeful dreams, life remains extremely difficult for people in Marini. A certain quiet sadness seems to fall over everyone that we meet. Action Aid’s Director of the Americas has the perfect cure, though. He asks the hovering group of curious men, women and children if they support Argentina or Brazil for the World cup. “Brazil, Brazil!,” they collectively cry out. Giggles and laughter and whoops ensue and smiles finally radiate each face.

Despite the fact that this community doesn't have an elementary school, hospital or even a place to bathe, Brazilian flags proudly decorate each corner. Perhaps Team Brazil presents an opportunity for Port-au-Prince Haitians to band together around a regional symbol of pride. So, as we wave goodbye and head back to our nice, air-conditioned 4 wheel drive Toyota, I say the following short prayer. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, for the game of soccer. And please, please, please, let Brazil win.”

Haiti or Bust

Tomorrow I  start off on a week-long work trip to Haiti. I am going so that I can learn, listen and see. Although I have been advocating on Haiti's behalf for a month now, consulting and volunteering around Haiti relief efforts for 4 months and praying on Haiti for 5 months, I have never visited the country. It has been a long-distance relationship across the great gulf of our cultural differences and misconceptions. Finally, I have the opportunity to resolve this disconnect.

I am both excited to go and a little nervous. I have all of my vaccinations, started my anti-malarial medication last week, and have assembled a nice little pile of food bars, anti-bacterial gel, a good pocket knife, immodium and my best intentions. 100 degree heat, malaria mosquitoes and travelers indigestion don't really worry me, though. Nor does the hurricane season, political instability or the scary idea of losing my checked bag. (For all the SIT Cameroon alum out there, anyone remember our checked bag debacle on Cameroon Airlines? Oh, I mean, Air Peut-etre;) What worries me is being face to face with the enormous amount of suffering which must be gripping this country, and not knowing what to do with it.

When September 11th gripped our own country in its hold, the results were overwhelming. It felt like the entire region was collectively suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndome and that the entire country was in deep mourning. Everyone was affected. Everyone now remembers where they were when September 11th struck. We lost thousands of dear souls and had our financial and cultural infrastructure shaken to its core.

As I reflect on our own National tragedies at ground zero or with Hurricane Katrina, I try to envision what the comparison must be like on the ground in Haiti. The  only word that comes to mind is overwhelm. 200,000 people and counting. Maybe a quarter of a million. That's more people than were killed at Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined. How can one country contain so much pain and suffering? I imagine tears running out into the streets, mixing up with dirty flood water and spilling into the ocean...the only container big enough, perhaps, to hold such an event.

My Haitian friends tell me that despite this pain, Haitians still have hope. They have experienced their unfair share of political upheaval, hunger, poverty and national crisis in the past. Yet, a strength, wisdom and unity seems to still persevere in Haiti. And so, I hope to go and listen to Haitian voices and Haitian stories. I plan to maintain this blog as often as I can for the journey. I hope to document my own personal experiences over the next week and see where the Spirit may take us. It may be a bit of a wild ride, but I still invite you to join me through this blog. Just don't forget to bring some dramamine, in case it ever gets a little bumpy:)

My Big Fairytale Dragon

Three weeks into my new contract position as the Haiti Advocacy Officer at Action Aid USA, I realize something important. I really like this work. I really get this work. I’m really thankful to be doing this work right now and to be getting paid for it. (I got my first paycheck today, btw, which made me giggle with delight… somewhat unprofessionally, I’m afraid.) In short, I feel like it is a fairytale treasure at the end of a long 9 month quest. 

For the last three weeks, I have been using as much moxie as I can muster to try and help rally Congress to pass supplemental funding for Haiti. Ok, actually, that’s not really what I’ve been doing. Other people already worked on getting the supplemental funding into this proposed bill. I’ve actually been working on trying to convert some of the food aid in the bill (as in the commodity rice that we’re planning to dump yet again on Haiti, even though Bill Clinton admitted recently that this was a disastrous choice back in the 90’s) to cash so that Haitians can buy food from their own markets.

I have been doing my homework, working closely with great organizations like CARE, American Jewish World Service and CRS, and narrowing in on our congressional targets. It helps that I use to fight this same fight over at Bread for the World when we were working on Farm Bill reform back in 2007 and 2008. For goodness sake, even President Bush wanted to convert 25% of food aid to cash for local markets back then. Yet, the big bad farm lobby beat us that time. I remember taking the loss pretty hard, as did so many of the faithful partners who lobbied side by side. So, this time around, when I hear from different congressional offices that it’s just going to be too hard to change the way that we send food aid to Haiti, I just smile and nod and start calculating my plan of attack. These Staffers have no idea who they’re messin with.

You see, Haitians want to work. They want to sell in their own markets. They want steady income. It’s what they want more than anything else, actually. A recent Oxfam survey confirmed that the biggest thing on Haitians’ minds right now isn’t food or clean water or even shelters (though those things are indeed crucially important for survival.) It’s jobs. And herein lies the big disconnect. We, as a country, keep trying to deliver aid like we are a gallant white knight riding in to the rescue. Meanwhile, Haiti is the Fairy Princess who keeps saying, “Uh, thanks and all. But, I’d rather just rescue myself, if you didn’t mind lowering the drawbridge.”

Even though you don’t HAVE to have an official job to be a valuable asset to your community, it does seem to make a difference. This is something that we job seekers in the U.S. share in common with our neighbors in Haiti. Everyone wants to contribute their gifts. Everyone wants to receive some recognition and fair wages for their contribution. A vocation, like a good education, holds a special place of honor within our literal and metaphoric villages. To use one of my favorite quotes on vocational calling, true joy comes, “when our greatest skills and desires meet the world’s greatest needs.”

And so, tomorrow afternoon, I am going to march over to the House of Representatives, proudly carrying my part-time, short-term badge of Advocacy Officer on my sleeve, and I am going to join my new colleagues in the fight for Haitian farmers and Haitian jobs. Watch out, food aid dragon, we’re bringing the big guns.

Entering the Realm of the Semi-Employed

Well, my friends, I received some very good news yesterday from the Policy Director at Action Aid USA. They've asked me to start a half-time, 3 month consultancy as a Senior Policy Advisor for Haiti. Semi-employment, here I come! When the Policy Director asked me when I could start, I said, "How about yesterday?" We settled for this upcoming Monday.

I'm also excited about having an interview tomorrow at Catholic Relief Services in Baltimore. This week has confirmed my theory that the mischievous planet of mercury in retrograde was interfering with my whole job search mojo. Maybe now that it's back in its proper alignment, things will go better for all of us.

Mark and I celebrated Italian style last night with a little wine, pizza, tiramisu and improv comedy class. When I land a full time, salaried position some place, then we might upgrade to champagne...just a little bit, you know, as I still need to pay off school loans;)

So, since I can no longer claim full unemployment status, I am officially changing the name of this blog from "Chronicles of the Unemployed," to "Chronicles of the Semi-Employed." I invite you to keep following and contributing to the journey if the spirit moves you.

In the meantime, here are a few lessons that the last 9 months have taught me.

- Vocation is a calling, not an obligation...a blessing, not a burden.

- Even though I believe this, it doesn't always feel that way...and that's OK.

- Life is all about timing. Be proactive, but also try to let go if it's just not working.

- Being unemployed has nothing to do with your skills or worth as a professional or a human being. Rather, it has everything to do with a crappy economy and that big spiritual question about timing.

- Being unemployed can be a surprise blessing, as it equates to spending less, recycling and reusing more, choosing carefully, going slower, asking for help, going outdoors more and rediscovering what you really want.
- When searching for a job, always invest in good dark chocolate. Believe me, you're worth it.

And now, onto preparing for tomorrow's interview and Monday's first day of work. Hence, I leave you with the great words of Song Diva, India Arie.

"So get in where you fit and go on to shine.

 Clear your mind, now's the time.

 Put your soul on the shelf. Go on and love yourself

 Cause everything's gonna be alright."

Taking the Long Way Home

It took me quite a while to find my way today...literally. After having applied to 11 (yes, count them...11) jobs, I then took my bike on the metro and went into the city to have 2 helpful informational interviews with fellow MIIS grads. At 5pm, I decided to revel in my state of joblessness and enjoy a luxuriously long bike ride home. (My husband will be the first to tell you that I will always choose bike over metro if given the opportunity:) I've biked the 13 miles in and out of the city a few times now. However, I decided to try the less traveled path...or rather, the less direct path.

So, there I am on Massachusetts Avenue, asking passerbyers if they know the way onto Rock Creek Parkway. Mysteriously, no one knew how to get there. Everyone could see the parkway; everyone knew that the trail was very close, but no one could point me in the right direction. Yet, in an incredibly sweet and yet sad attempt to be helpful, people still offered their bad advice. And so, I kept going down wrong streets, just to find out at the bottom that I would have to climb my way back up the hill and start searching all over again.

On the third attempt, I threw up my hands and laughed at my slow metaphoric comprehension of my current job search. Finding a job in this economy feels like the never-ending goose chase for the elusive Rock Creek Park Bike Trail. You know it's there; you can see it in the distance. Everyone wants to help you get there. You just can't quite find it.

A kind biker finally pointed me to a roundabout path that he knew would eventually link up with the bike trail. (It was the same path, I might add, that I originally started down. Therefore, if I had listened to my own instincts in the first place, I would have made it there much sooner.) He explained that I would have to walk my bike for a while at the bottom, but that it would eventually cross the river and connect to the trail. And so, I walked.

As I hiked along by the babbling stream, I tried to let go a little and just enjoy the sunshine, balmy weather and beautiful surroundings. And yet, just on the other side of the river lay what I wanted: the path. I paralleled it, trying to peer ahead for this so called bridge that would finally connect me. I didn't see it, though. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes passed. I started to feel desperate to reach the other side and contemplated wading through the shallow river. Again, I laughed at myself.

"This makes perfect sense," I said out loud. It represented my job search yet again. I had been so impatient, so obsessed with getting to the other side that I had forgotten to just enjoy and trust in the journey. No sooner had I come to this realization then I saw the bridge up ahead in the distance.

I finally reached the bike path and continued my journey north, this time on the fast track. At a big crossroads, a biker stopped and asked me for directions. "Excuse me. I'm a little lost. Any chance that you know how to get back into the city?" he asked. I pointed towards the southern route and said, "Head that way. Just when you think that this can't possibly be the way, go a little further and veer left at the fork. Trust me, I've just come from there."

As I watched the biker head south, I felt satisfied that my bungled attempts at finding my way could serve someone else on their own search for the path. Of course, I realized yet again that this was a metaphor for these post-graduate job search years. (God, please let it not take years;) Not too long from now, I can use this experience to help encourage others on their own journey. I smiled to myself, turned north to move onward and encountered my third metaphoric lesson for the day: one last big hill in order to reach home.

Mercury Madness and May Mojo

I must admit, I’m pretty excited about the arrival of May and the return of Mercury into its proper orbit. You see, the planet will be in retrograde until May 11 and I have been secretly blaming job search communication breakdowns on this fact. Take today, for example. It took me 4 grand tries to successfully submit a very long application for a recruiting agency. And yesterday, my husband and I took a test with the U.S. Census bureau for potential temporary work, and his test just mysteriously disappeared at the end. The administrator couldn’t find it anywhere and had to assume that someone must have swiped it (hopefully by accident.) It has been a job communications slowdown, my friends, and I am here to tell you that we’re not to blame!

Weeks like this past one remind me of times in my life when I’ve just kept trying to move forward in the same direction no matter what the situation. Sometimes we get blocked for a reason, I believe. Maybe we’re going in a wrong direction, or new opportunities are waiting on the outskirts of our previous expectations. Maybe we just need to slow down for a while, or learn to be patient, or find new ways to dismantle the walls in our life and build ourselves new.

So, May 1^st begins tomorrow and I am giving this shout out into the universe: Here I come, job! I’m tearing down those employment walls, sending good communication vibes into the cosmos and planning for success very soon now. You just try to stop me this time;)

75 shout-outs. Just 1 call.

Last week I hit my big 75 mark. 75 applications for 75 different jobs! And so, we baked a cake. Sure, it was officially for my husband, Mark's birthday. However, I held a little piece of it for myself to celebrate these 75 hopeful endeavors. Although I also affectionately call them my little ego shakers, they are still my optimistic testimony to a simple belief...that my next calling is coming soon.

Last week I woke up in the middle of the night with that nagging call feeling again. "Go and look for jobs right now," a little inner voice said. And so, I listened. I went straight to my computer and spent the next 2 hours searching and applying to different international development positions at CARE, Catholic Relief Services and World Vision. And then I saw it...and I mean IT. A Senior Policy Advisor for Humanitarian Response in Haiti position at Oxfam America. "Yes!" I almost shouted out loud. This felt like what I had been looking for. I have been encountering Haiti everywhere I go: doing a little consulting for Haitian Americans and Volunteer Efforts, volunteering with the National Organization for the Advancement of Haitians and now coordinating my church's Haiti Response Team. I felt like this position made so much sense to me...it could use my French, my program management skills, my passion for advocacy, desire to liaise with development efforts on the ground and heartbreak over Haiti's recovery efforts. And so, I worked hard for the next 4 hours on that application and said a little extra prayer over it as I hit the send button.

Haitians know about ego shaking...figuratively and literally. Imagine losing your entire home, your capitol and remaining infrastructure, your confidence in the future. Job searching is not even an option. Where are the jobs? No one has jobs to offer, products to sell or money with which to buy them. Life becomes a race for survival in which no one cares if you have secret gifts just waiting to be discovered. And yet, isn’t there still hope for Haiti? 

The truth of the matter is that life is hard sometimes…and especially hard for some. The challenge to survive, much less thrive, is a reality that affects each person and culture at some point in their life. I believe it was Nelson Mandela who said that it is difficult to truly understand the suffering of another. Just keeping this knowledge close to our hearts, though…that we have all struggled to find our calling and survive in the global jungle, is a way to build ourselves up strong again. And keeping our hearts open to the suffering of others…of those who have nothing close to the same amount of opportunities that we do, can inspire us with new courage and compassion. It can also help us find that one true calling…that crossroads where our greatest gifts and desires finally meet the world’s greatest needs.