The Other Side of A Forest

[Disclaimer: I wrote down my thoughts and experiences, and do not mean to offend anyone. But please let me know if the content or the way I present it is offensive to you and I will fix or remove the post.]

Today concludes week one of Haiti.  It's hard for me to put into words how I feel about everything, so I'm going to just write down the facts ---

I'm on lock down.

At 8am every morning, the driver comes to pick me up for work. The guard opens the gate, sees us out, locks it behind us and spends the day cleaning the house.

View outside my window, i absolutely LOVE the mountains here

We wind our way down the mountain during the 45min drive to work, through mango stands along the streets, colorful taptap busses crammed with people, and crooked shacks full of disassembled car parts in the slums. Each morning I eagerly peak out of the car window, wondering what it's like out there - the sounds, the smells, the hustle bustle. But I'm not allowed to set foot out of the car, into the real world of Port-au-Prince.

My previous blog entries might have given away that the traveling style I prefer is spontaneous adventuring. I love to wander, to follow instincts, to experience. Which, as it turns out, is not the experience here in Haiti.

So this kills me. I thought to myself those first few days as Milfort drove us through the city that yes, the metal shell around this car is keeping us safe from the chaos that is in the streets, but it is also keeping us from the color, the culture, and the beauty that is Haiti.

Why so strict, you might ask? Let me try to explain how I understand it, after having spoken with several locals I befriended at work or through the roommates.

Haiti has been struggling with economic turmoil and political instability for decades. The people have been let down over and over and over again by the unbelievably corrupt government. For example, the last president was supposedly famous for being a popular singer, and even though he did not have a high school degree, was elected by the people because they thought "at least he already had money and won't steal from our country."

Except after that, every member of his family mysteriously became millionaires. A tad sketchy, perhaps.

Many citizens are in an economic position where they live day by day. In the words of one of my coworkers "they don't have the resources to plan ahead. They don't get the luxury of grocery shopping and saying, next week I'm going to eat this. They have no appliances, lots of them no income, and live life day by day, eating what they can get."

Many people will do anything for money. Including, for example, selling their electoral ballots to corrupt government parties. Apparently for this reason, during the last (democratic) presidential election, the results were completely rigged, and the winning candidate was an obviously unfavorable one.

As a solution, they appointed an interim president, gave him a 3 month time period during which he was supposed to put together another presidential election.

That 3 month term ended a little over a week ago. And nope, no election yet. And the Senate terms apparently ran out too.

So yup, there is no government.

Crime rates are skyrocketing; people are pushing their limits to see how much they can get away with.

It's not surprisingly that society here today is a very distrusting one. People stay within their tight circles. They keep their heads down, go to work, do what their supposed to, and go home. The poor stay with the poor, the rich hide in their mountain top mansions, the expats lock themselves in buildings and cars, everyone is just trying their best to stay alive. One day at a time.

It hurts me. And the more I think about it, the more misty the solution seems to be. "To make a real change," Aurelie (who I recently met) said, "I have to be in politics. But it's so dangerous. For myself, I don't care. But for my family, I cannot put them in danger."

I made some expat friends, and dinner conversation is always that Tulane med student who got shot last week, and that Swedish man who was killed yesterday. 5 bullet holes in the Marriott, 6 in the windows of the cell phone company next door. Oh look Game of Thrones is on, I'll drive you home 2 blocks away after (of course you can't walk you'll get killed). Look the US embassy sent out another reminder - when you get robbed just give them your bag, and don't look at them, because if you look at them they're more likely to kill you.

So right now I live my expat life. It's kind of like I'm stepping out of my comfort zone in the opposite way - instead of being out in an uncomfortable situation, I'm learning how to be completely alone. It's the first time I've been truly confined. It'll be cool to see how much reflection I can do and how many books I can read.

Here are some parts of my life I am allowed to take pictures of:

Yes, this is what expats do

My Sunday breakfast on the patio

My neighborhood, a beauty especially at sunset

One of Kath (my roommate)'s amazing drinks

All this aside though - Haiti is absolutely breathtaking. I love the mountains, the beautiful lightning shows at night with no rain, the colorful taptap busses, the strength of the people (more on this next post) the way the entire city roars after a football win:

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One of those expat friends is the CEO of a microfinancing company here in Haiti. We had dinner tonight, and were talking about him moving on from his CEO position. I asked him what he wanted to do after, he said he didn't know. I said, you should take some time off! You should travel!

He said "well, see, you say that, but I just...don't have the desire to - I've been to many places."

"But not ALL of them," I said, "there are SO many places you haven't gone, like..." I proceeded to listing them (in my excited Jenny travel voice, if you can picture it).

To which he responded, "It's that, after I've seen so much poverty, been to so many of those places, it leaves me with no interest in seeing those beautiful places in the world. Because you stand there and look at the forest, and you know what's on the other side, you know how the people really live out there. This is not the world. The world is not a forest."

Haiti, Day 1

Cornell told us that instead of taking our summer breaks the old fashioned way, we were supposed to do something "productive" with it. And their definition of "productive" happens to be one thing - research.

I could go on forever about how I feel about that. But I'll spare you the rant and just get to the point that I decided, fine, I'll do research. But you can't stop me from traveling and adventuring, so I'm gonna do it somewhere, anywhere else in the world.

So, after taking my last test in the first year of med school, spending a week at my homes (Ithaca, Boston, Toronto), surprising dad on Father's Day with the sisters, and watching my best friend get married (tears), I finally hopped on a plane to PORT-AU-PRINCE, HAITI to spend my 2 months of summer!

So here I am, back on my "funemployment" blog, although what I'm doing this summer technically doesn't fit the description. But oh well, it's generally how I try to live life anyway.

So I got on the plane, and first thing I noticed was that:
1) This plane was 90% Haitians and
2) 10% white people wearing matching T-shirts with hearts on them saying "be a changemaker!" "Save the villages!" "Rescue Haiti!"

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little there with the quotes, but you get the point. I carefully observed the Haitians walking past these uniformed altruists, and they did not look pleased in the slightest bit.

This really hit me. I'm by no means belittling what these volunteers are doing in Haiti - I find their giving spirits commendable. But I couldn't help but wonder, what difference are they actually making? Whose lives are they truly improving - those they are going to help for a month, or their own? Is their, no, is our presence actually welcomed?

I know, great way to start my 2 months of clinical and research work in an infectious disease clinic, amirite?

ANNNND WE'RE LANDING IN HAITI!

A couple first things I noticed upon landing:

1) Haiti is NOT as hot as I expected and what people made it to be. I think it's because I have lived and survived in Houston, which to this day seems to be THE HOTTEST place on earth I've visited (and I've been to places like Singapore).

2) To strangers and outsiders, Haitians seem to come off pretty cold, even a bit rude. But to their own people (family etc.) they give the worlddd. Very "us" and "them". At least from what I see, from something as simple as getting luggage. Maybe I'll get lucky and make some friends while I'm here.

We waited literally an hour for the luggage to all come out. It was a hot mess.

The thirst was real

People slowly picked out their bags and walked away. Every bag that wasn't mine that rolled out made my heart sink a little lower and believe a little more that my bag was lost. One by one the crowd thinned out, until, it was just, me.

Ruh roh. Small panic moment.

A dude with a lanyard walked up to me and asked to see my ticket. I showed it to him. He said "wait here", and disappeared for one second before reappearing with my bag. "Thank you SO much!" I said, "where did you find it??" "Give me money," he said, and walked away disappointed after I gave him only a dollar. Kinda sketch, I would say.

I finally made it out of the airport, and was greeted by a man with a sign that said "JENNY XIA". I felt so welcomed :). Except he was NOT happy - with my flight delay and luggage shenanigans, he had been waiting for 2 hours! He took me in his van and we took off. 

The driver was not a happy camper. This was not alleviated by the fact that I gave him wrong directions to the clinic at first. The car ride was awkward, and he at some point turned on the radio at full blast. I have to diffuse the tension, I thought to myself. Except the driver didn't speak English (they speak French/Haitian Creole here)! So I took a deep breath, set my insecurities aside, and busted out the broken French that I barely remember :

"Les montagnes sont belles (the mountains are beautiful) (at least I think)". 

The driver turned around and laughed. "Ahaha, tu parles Francais? (you speak French?)". I explained that I speak a little and will practice while I'm here. He told me his name is Joseph, and proceeded to teach me a bunch of Creole phrases. The most important ones, if you ask me -  for example "I'm hungry" (which I was, extremely).

Tension, gone. 

To be honest, my first impression of Port-au-Prince was poor. To get to the clinic, Joseph took me through the slums of the city, and it was nothing I had ever seen before - broken shacks extending for as far as I could see, women sitting near it with small piles of mangos on the ground for sale, big sacks of donated clothes with people pulling them out in every direction, interspersed with fighting pigs and piles of burning trash. It put the way I live my life to shame.

But, as we drove further inland, up the mountains, the socioeconomic class rose along with the elevation. Steep, mountainous paths are lined with beautiful stone walls, with pink tropical flowers peaking over the edge. Inside, colorful mansions stood proudly, accompanied by their backyard pools.

So, with whatever right I have to pass judgements on a place based on 3 hours of observations, I think Port-au-Prince is just like any other city - maybe just a little more extreme - a place with severely imbalanced wealth distribution. 

Oh, I skipped over the part where Joseph took me to the clinic, "Les Centres GHESKIO" to meet the crew. I met Katey, an MD from Weill Cornell, one of the girls I'll be working and living with, and some other important people.

The house I get to stay at (for free, if I can get any luckier, since Cornell owns it) is halfway up the mountain. So, you guessed it, in a decently wealthy area. And my jaw literally went like this :O after I saw how ENORMOUS it is. Especially since I'm coming from NYC.

Also the girls who live here longterm got a puppy, named Ziggy. Adorableee. Except he's teething, and literally bites EVERYTHING. So this is what happened when I played with him. 

But in all seriousness, today has been a bucket of mixed emotions. I don't know how I can help here in Haiti yet. To be honest, I don't even know if I can make a difference. The only thing I do know is that I get to live in a fancy house. A BIG ASS fancy house, with electricity, internet, 3 bathrooms, and a guard.

There is much to experience and learn. I think this country will teach me more than I can offer to give, for now at least. But I am thankful to have this chance. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to make someone feel glad that I came to offer my time and energy, maybe I'll be a part of a process that discovers a better treatment for TB. Or maybe I'll be lucky enough to be considered an "insider" by a local Haitian.

Anything is possible. I'm excited.