6/21/13
Lessons on idioms
This morning we
had fish for breakfast. This had to be the first component of a meal
I really couldn't do. However, I'm finally getting into the spicy
peanut butter with bread and bananas. Delicious.
I spent two hours
today helping a girl from the high school across the street to study
for her final exam in English. The exam was definitely beyond her
level of English, which I felt terrible about because she was giving
it all she had during those two hours that we worked together,
navigating the exam through my hybrid French-Creole. The first part
of the exam consisted of an arbitrary reading on English idioms that
use food, such as “it's a piece of cake” and “she's the apple
of my eye”. It was ridiculous. This is no way tested her practical
use of English, but it's pretty similar to foreign language testing
in the U.S. I'm hoping to get to work with her again before the exam,
because I really enjoyed gaining some greater insight into Haitian
education.
In the late
afternoon I finally got to have an organizational meeting for my
summer program. The two American girls with me gave me looks that
sent a message I was a little crazy for taking this on. Sure the
group was a little chatty, but really nothing compared to some of the
groups I'd had at TJ in Frederick. Only about 30 students showed up
to the meeting (impending rain stops everything here) but dozens more
have asked to be added to the list. At first we planned that I would
simply explain everything in English, with my new friend as my Creole
translator. However, once I said I speak French, the students asked
that I just explain everything in French. I was so happy because this
meant I could really communicate with my students.
I'll be running
two classes, one from 9:00-11:00am and another from 4:00pm-6:00pm,
each day Monday-Friday. Both classes will initially be the same, I'm
waiting to really find out the levels of my students to shift things
around. Classes will run Monday, July 1st – Wednesday,
July 31st. I decided that to keep motivation going I will
do a quiz each Friday, and then a final evaluation the last week
before I leave on August 2nd. It's going to be a
challenging and exciting month!
6/22/13
TOMS
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| Side street near the market |
This morning we
finally got to get out of the hospital compound and go around the
market in town. The other Americans here are working on some research
on salt and hypertension for a grant for the organization. They're
surveying woman who do the cooking for their families, so town on
market day seemed like a good time to get some surveys.
The market itself
was a little wild. Apparently, the method of bargaining here is
through yelling, and even though it sounds malicious, it isn't
really. On this excursion I FINALLY got to have an cold Coke.
This was heaven in my mouth.
One of the most
interesting things I saw while at the market was a blanket with
child-size pairs of TOMS. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the
inside of the shoe read “not for re-sale”. So these are the TOMS
that are supposed to be given out free when we buy our TOMS in the
U.S. This was a little disappointing. The silver lining in this was
that I finally got to see a pair of the “free” TOMS and they
appear to be much sturdier than the ones we buy.
Post-market adventures we spent two hours on this gorgeous beach that is right across the street from the hospital compound: (this view is from another angle though, up the street, the hospital is on the road behind the pink building)
6/23/13
Broccoli Salad
This morning I
learned how to do laundry! I brought my things out, we filled a
silver basin with water and dumped in my clothes and washing powder.
Then they tried to teach me how to scrub the clothing against itself
on my hand. I just couldn't get the soap to lather and make a
squishing noise the way the women could. I scrubbed so hard my wrist
began to bleed. Another woman helped me to finish, and we then rinsed
my clothes twice in the sink before climbing up the ladder to the
roof to lay them out to dry.
That afternoon for
lunch/dinner we had a real feast – which included a broccoli salad.
For some reason the woman the does most of the cooking here thinks
that broccoli is really exotic and wants to cook it a lot for us. So
she asked the girls to make a broccoli salad. I was initially weird
out by the whole thing, cold broccoli (mostly the stalk because the
top was moldy and slimy) with raw garlic, onions, sweet pepper, and a
little oil. Turned out to be the most delicious part of the meal (and
everything else on the table was amazing). Go figure.
Blantourage
Today we went to the most beautiful
beach I've ever been to in my life. It cost 25 gourdes (less than $1)
to get into Choo Choo Bay. Once we entered the makeshift entrance
made of a tarp curtain, it was evident we had walked into a Haitian
beach party. There was music being blasted through large speakers,
and several little stands set up selling food and drinks. We walked
in, in full blan fashion, the
only ones equipped with towels and sunscreen. Three young white girls
on the beach, we knew it was going to be an interesting time from the
start, but that wouldn't stop us from spending some time on this
beautiful beach. We got situated, each taking turns going for a swim
in the water so our things wouldn't be left unattended. I hadn't been
in the water long before a young man struck up a conversation – in
English. A request to practice his English soon turned into a lecture
about how God wouldn't bless me if I didn't give him anything and I
promptly swam away. Others approached me to talk as well, carrying on
in French/Creole before asking a similar question about money.
There's no better word to use, it was just an awkward situation. It's
not that I don't really the desperation of people here, but it would
be a mess if I did give one person something among a crowd of
hundreds. It became disappointing that I couldn't just have a
conversation to learn about another person.
At one point we
spied some other blans walking along the beach, they even had a huge
cooler! We were looking forward to interacting with them, to see why
they were in the area, etc. Weirdly, the avoided any contact with us
and took a detour right around us and up away from the beach.
Another group of
young men approached me, and this time I had resolved to not let on
that I spoke any French or Creole, but before I could really put my
mind to it one of the guys asked me if I spoke French and I
instinctively replied “Oui, je parle bien francais!” This group
was different. They were university students visiting from Cap. We
had a good conversation in French about where French is spoken in
Canada (they assumed I was Canadian since I spoke French) and I
eventually started talking one-on-one with one of the guys in the
group named Ricardo, who was wearing glasses. (This is a significant
detail here, it is pretty rare to see anyone wearing glasses.) We
talked for a while about what we're studying. He's doing business
management right now but wants to get into law. I was so excited to
get to talk to someone in French so I could fully understand and to
find out about his life and not have it culminate in a request for
money.
Back at our towels,
there was a group of about 20 people assembled around our little
encampment. The typical “blantourage” of children no matter where
we go is normal, but this was different, it was a group composed
entirely of males, and of every age, just sitting/standing and
staring at us, from only a few feet away. It became a little
unsettling, and after some awkward conversations we decided to
depart.
Many things were
seen on this excursion to the beach. A young men drunkenly stumbling
all over the beach, eventually face-planting in the sand and being
carried off by his friends. Little kids rolling around in the sand in
their clothes. Drunk women that looked a little older than me
stumbling up to us asking why we're white and making fun of my pasty
legs. A guy who has been to Miami begging me to give him a job
because the other girls told him I'm studying to be a lawyer.
6/24/13
Back to business
While sitting in the meeting room reading over EFL activities and
drinking coffee (while listening to Kesha of course) it finally hit
me – the opportunity that I'm being afforded right now is insane.
I've especially had this little epiphany in light of discovering the
rather large socioeconomic difference that exists between myself and
my American peers here in Borgne. I'm pretty darn grateful for this
crazy experience.
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| Standing on the roof of a home in Borgne - sporting my "aide worker chic" look as dubbed by another American in the group. |
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