Salt Project Update

It's been slow forming a co-operative of salt producers. I first hired a man with legal and accounting training to write the co-op’s charter and internal regulation. Although he has experience writing such documents he seemed to lack the motivation skills to get the people excited about working together. After a week of work he turned in a two pages that amount to little more than an outline. As well he said that the $60 dollars a day we had agreed on paying him was a fine wage for a day wage but he now also needed a new technical wage, something in the order of $5,000 dollars. When Ewan let him know he would not receive this unagreed upon sum he was fine. When Ewan asked him to sign a little slip of paper stating he received the money of his original contract he blew up. It turns out the slip is usually used when paying unskilled day labors. I wasn't present for the tirade but it end with him saying taking the money was beneath him and storming out the office. The new guy I found works for the Haitian Department of Agriculture and trained specifically motivating and forming co-ops. He'll start Monday and I hope things go a little better.

Leasing the land for the AMURT pilot salt works has its own troubles. I signed a contract on Tuesday to lease a plot from a land owner. Wednesday morning at 6:40 AM two old guys found me and told me in a harsh tone "You can't lease anything without our consent." I'm finding out nothing is as simple as it should be. Previously I had been trying to purchase some land from these same old guys but over the course of a couple weeks they never turned up with the correct paperwork and they didn't really know what they owned. So it seems because they don't know where their land is, they feel they need to oversee all land deals just in case it's on their land.

Progress is always slow in Haiti and so I’m far from being discouraged. I’ve been spending part of my time looking for other ways start spending the grant money while the co-ops and pilot project are being sorted out. Many Haitian salt producers have suggested digging drainage canals to protect the salt basins from the annual flooding. Acting upon this idea I studied the aerial photos, talk with locals, and even rode my motorcycle inside the dry riverbeds to locate all areas of flooding. Since the floods are such dramatic events it’s been easy to rally the people into action. One community in particular that was skeptical investing energy into the new method of salt production is hugely enthused about the drainage canals, they want to start work Monday!

Just today I learned we'll be receiving addition funds to create a GPS database of all the salt basins. The huge deficit of information has plagued every NGO in their attempts to reform and modernize the salt industry. No one in Haiti could even give you a guess as to how much salt is produced, or who owns the basins, where the salt is sold or for how much is it sold. Finally knowing the answers to the most basic questions will be hugely important.

UN Beach Party!

The Sri Lankan peace keepers where very polite and generous.
UN party bus!
Erin and I will be featured in hundreds of home videos.

Aux Cayes Jacmel

Every local's question:
Does it fold out and get bigger?

Erin, the caribbean sand and sea
Happy to be by the sea!
Some coconut trees are easier to climb than others

In Marmalade

A typical bean tree. Unfortunately the coffee roaster was closed on the weekend.


Bamboo forest, courtesy of the Taiwanese Government.
Erin thinks the scary staircase and head wound are connected



Our host in the lovely mountain village of Marmalade

Sources Chad bath house

These bath houses are fed by natural hot springs. And I mean hot! We did our laundry in them one day. It is hard to imagine feeling clean when you look at the dirt though, huh?

Visit at Ya-Yas

Jidline is in the picture with us and the two pictures below that one are her being the photographer.

Jack's favorite past time

"Playing" with the kids

Proposed Video Game

Driving along Haitian highways reminds me of a video game. Imagine driving a motorbike:

Obstacles to miss—cows, goats, pigs, chickens, pedestrians, unannounced speed bumps, potholes of all sizes, other vehicles that drive directly at you

Bonus points—passing other vehicles, finding cold drinks along the road

Challenges to visibility: dust, smog

Different levels: (1) smooth straight paved road (2) straight paved but potholed road (3) paved but curvy and potholed mountain road (4) non-paved dusty, rocky, road (5) non-paved, dusty, rocky, very hilly, rivers and anything else you can imagine.

Ode to Gonaives

I smell you before I even see you.

Veiled in dust heaps, the garbage still reeks.

A beach town with no beach

You have consumed any beauty the sea might offer.

Battered by a hurricane a few years before

The Noah-type flooding showed it was unfit for life—

A Sodom and Gomorrah punishment by water—

Yet people came back.

Home to the riot that led to the coup

Now a home to the UN to temper a brew.

Nature doth thrive in forms most unwanted—

Cockroaches, mangy dogs, skeeters and mices.

Scorching heat leads to much suffering and sweating.

All of this leads us to bestow a grand title

Most wretched city in the New World.

Power Out

At first we just thought the solar panels were out. A week later when we hooked up a generator we realized the satellite Internet was out too. Despite the communication difficulties I've been able to make important progress with my project. We're almost finished forming a cooperative and writing their internal regulations. Next will be to OK everything with the local government; with any luck we could be breaking ground in a week!

Border Crossing

I crossed into Haiti from the Northern Dominican city of Dajabon. We were told that the border opened at 8 and so we arrived close to that time. I did not even recognize the border crossing as an immigration check point when I first saw it.

By 8:45 people were beginning to gather at the locked gate that leads to Haiti. Mostly people on foot and others with barrels filled with blocks of ice that are covered with grain to keep it from melting. These blocks of ice equal Haitian refrigeration.

Jack and I parked ourselves in front of a closed window which we guessed is where we needed to be. An immigration official passed by and informed us that things opened at 9.

By 9:30 more people had congregated, including immigration officials. The immigration people would ask us what we needed but when we would tell them (we need to talk to someone in transportation re the motorbike, we need exit stamps, etc.) they just nodded and continued to eat their breakfast outside the locked office.

By 10:00 the entrance to Haiti looked like this. As more ice wheelbarrows congregated, I wondered if any of the ice would make it into Haiti since it was melting so rapidly.

By 10:30 immigration officials began to take their places behind windows.

Around 11, two hours after they were supposed to open, the windows opened the process began. People did recognize that we had been their first and allowed us to go first. But after being directed to the transportation office, back to the main window, over to another window, then back to the original window, then back to the other window…….it just became a shoving game. After being given some papers to fill out with no pen or pencil, I forced my way into the office and made the officials give me a pen. How else was I expected to fill them out!

But after lots of stressful Spanish, shoving, yelling, and swatting bugs, we got our exit stamps and crossed over into Haiti.

On that end, it was easy to bypass immigration. Jack and I had to seek it out. We were the only people there and easily received our entry into the country. And it only cost $1 US dollar.

Quickie update

So I arrived in Santiago, Dominican Republic and did not need a backup plan for Jack was there the minute I stepped out. And not only was he there, he had documents that got me out of paying for a tourist card!

My first night in the DR, and Jack´s 30th night (total guess on my part) was spent with a Haitian friend who will be working with the same organization this summer. It was the real deal-a Latin barrio.

Our next stop was Jarabacoa, up in the inland mountains. Jack has connections with a YWAM base there. The trip offered great views especially on the motorbike! Jack has been fairly generous and accomodating when it comes to all my "stuff" (which is NOT much for 4 months!) and only complains every so often. I do admit, the "stuff" overtakes the motorbike just a little bit, but it just gives us that much more character for not only are we both wearing helmets (which no one does here) but we have a pile of stuff behind us.

Salt Production Update

I've now completed two meeting with the salt committees in villages spread along the seashore. AMURT has been working with these communities for over a year so all the committee members seem well informed about the coming project. However the project we'll embark upon requires far more money and work than an individual can produce. However every time I bring up the issue of Cooperatives during a meeting the room is filled with silence. Pressing the issue the only response I find is "Salt producers aren't in the habit of working together" Unfortunately I don't have any experience with cooperative either and so I am casting about looking for ideas. I ask Sampurna, the head of the agriculture projects, for ideas. She did know of a couple working agricultural co-op and gave me the charter for one. Reading through it was very helpful. I had nothing specific included and must have just been created from generalized co-op template. It simply gave a structure and rule of conduct for any group of people trying to work together. I may end up copying much of it into the charter I will eventually help draft for the salt producers.

On the subject of skeeters

My town's name means Hot Springs in French and I've make good use of the array of cold, warm and hot pools. This geological blessing has its downside. The abundant water run off incubates a plague of mosquitoes that's if not of biblical portions it's darn near it. They are so numerous, they creates an ever present background whine like you might have living next to a airport or freeway. Even during the hottest days I'm obliged to wear my jeans and long sleeve shirts just to keep them away. During the slow parts of the day obsessively plot how to destroy them all.

Waiting

Work has yet to begin in earnest. Although I would have much preferred to have jumped into work day one, I've instead had to make due with the slow pace of country life. I start the morning chopping wood, starting a fire, and boiling water for oatmeal and hot chocolate. After breakfast I dive straight into Snow, a book by the Turkish novelist Orhan Pamuk. The book is well composed and intriguing and it being my only distraction I've been deeply engrossed.





Around midday the solar panels have stored away enough power that I can briefly check my e-mail but not much else, the battery system has long needed replacing. In the afternoon we've been rearranging all the rooms: bedrooms, kitchen, rec. room, office space, everything has moved to a new location. However I must add, bedroom means my backpack and sleep mat, office means a couple laptops and a table while kitchen means some sacks of grains, four grapefruit and a few spices.

All the AMURT members subscribes to a diet of only "cooling" foods (no meat, eggs, onions, garlic, or mushrooms) and this combined with a cash shortage has causes dinners to be a fairly simple affair. We've had eggplant pasta, eggplant & rice and just last night eggplant & millet. But eggplant is a steal at just $0.08 each, so you really can't beat it!

Initial Introduction to Salt Production

I rode my motorbike down to the coast to see the salt basins and get acquainted with the heads of the committees. The salt producers have already been working with AMURT for some time. Last year they worked on rehabilitating old basins, this year they are hoping to start implementing a more advanced method of production. Ewan, the head of the infrastructure project, had already called a meeting and explained the goals of the project so there wasn't a lot of info for me to add; rather I just chitchatted, set dates for future meetings, and told everybody "Soon, soon, the project will be starting soon." All the salt producers seem very skeptical; one remarked "it's been soon for a while…" All I could do was shrug. "Soon" is all that the donor, the World Food Program, had been saying over the last 6 months.

Yet the food arrived the next day and now 700 bags each of rice each weighing over 100 pounds fill our warehouse. Next week the beans and oil will arrive. The day before, I was dreading the awkward silence that would have surely made up most of next weeks meetings, but now by incredible luck I'm exactly where I need to be.

Although this food is labeled AID it often fails to serve that purpose. The overwhelming majority of Haitian's are farmers, things like rice and beans are their staple crops. As in all economies, if the market is flooded with cheap low quality imports, the domestic producers are hurt. Strangle as it may seem, the cheap AID rice, hurts the Haitian peasant farmers and causes hardships for this very large segment of the population. Click here for a definition of agricultural subsidies.

I have mixed feelings first about paying workers in food rather than money, secondly, that the food is of such a low quality I would never eat it myself, lastly, that food imports depress the wages of poor farmers. (Click here for an article regarding the harmful effect of agricultural subsidies on poor communities) All this aside, the new method of salt production could greatly improve the earning potential of these poor coastal villages. Plus, at a future date the new salt could be iodized. The Anse Rouge area is the principle salt producer region of Haiti . With iodization the diseases associated iodine deficiency would largely be eliminated throughout the entire nation.

Photo glimpse from past times in Haiti and the DR

Marie-Phila

Marie-Phila and Jidline cutting Jack's hair

Friends he made the first time Jack was in the Dominican Republic. They hosted him for the night. When he went back a few weeks ago he visited these same friends.

Bicycle generators, beer, and salt production

I got a little burnt riding through the desert so today I'm just taking it easy researching homemade remedies to our rural problems. My first scheme is a bicycle generator, which I hope will solve a couple problems. All I'll need is an old broken bike, some wood or metal to make a flywheel, and a little electrical motor to actually produce the volts. I'll keep you posted on my progress. The second wild scheme is beer brewed from Haitian grains. A little research on the web and a little inquiring with people from Africa leads me to believe millet beer will not be the answer--the consensus, too thin, too sour. However I did come across some recipes popular in the 13 colonies during the colonial era. The beer was made from wheat bran and molasses and supposedly the founding fathers were quite keen on it. In Haiti molasses is readily available but wheat bran is thrown to the pigs. I may also be able to use corn or millet to provide the sugars needed for the fermentation so long as the wheat bran is providing the body, color and flavor.

Tomorrow I'm heading over to make my first inquiry into the salt production. I'm not going to take the sun lightly again. My limbs are going to be fully covered with a straw hat to boot. Although I feel intimidated by embarking on such a large project with so little knowledge and no help from others, there is really know one else doing anything, so whatever I can contribute is going to be better than nothing.

A day in the life......

I headed into St. Marc for a bit a shopping. I successfully found new school shoes for Marie-Phila and little super glue to try to repair the old ones. I also bought cigarettes for Camilla and Ya-ya to resell and a sack of little cookie so no one could say I didn't bring them anything.

Once home in Pierre Payen I went swimming with the little kids for the fourth straight day. They are now feeling more at home in the water so I am able to leave them to play in the shallows while I get a little exercise out in the deep. Tag is their favorite game whenever I come in from the deep I swim from the distance of a pool length underwater and try to take them by surprise. After that the kids scatter and all begin chanting "Jack pa ka kenbe'm." (Jack can't catch me!) Marie-Phila observes me swimming underwater and to escape from getting tagged, she also ducks underwater. However when she dunks her head under and starts thrashing wildly, she never makes it more than a few inches in any one direction. Undaunted she will surface, gulp some air and give it another go.

During one of the breaks from swimming I walked over to "Laki" where many of the employees of Clean Water for Haiti live. I was hoping to find my friend Evens to walk him through typing his resume. He had been telling me about taking occupational education classes on the weekends. He has already finished plumbing school and is now working on electrician school. He had told a couple of the other guys and they had started attending classes too. Since the filter project at Clean Water for Haiti is going rather slowly I was hoping AMURT could hire some of these young guys who are so eager to learn new skills. AMURT's current project will only last 5 months but it could be enough time to get start on some new crafts. So I spent an hour or two helping Evens polish his resume but only on condition he sits with the others and walks them through it the process too. There wasn't too much left of the day and I went to sleep soon after sundown.

Yesterday I had to say goodbye. I stopped by Marie-Phila's school but didn't stay long. I then began hitchhiking north. From Pont Sonde to Gonaives one of the Jaspora gave me a ride in his fancy jeep. Although he lives in Orlando, FL he was born near the poor remote area AMURT works in. He asked lots of questions and had some interesting stories about life the NW of Haiti. Even though he was headed right where I was going I promised to stop by my friend Roman's house so I jumped off in Gonaives. I can't say if it was lucky or unlucky but instead of spending the night at his house I met Roman as he was on his way out the door. I was able to get my motorcycle out but I was a little sad I didn't get a chance to see how he was doing. I rode back to Sources Chad and will start surveying and gathering a list of contacts for the salt production project. I may also spend some time looking into developing some cottage industries like hot sauce or mango chutney.

Generous Hospitality

***As written by Jack***

Four of us in all were heading to the capital,Port-au-Prince. Raphaella and Ica were soon flying to their homes. Demeter and I were just going there for business. As the day was winding down and Demeter was fatigued from the drive, none of the 4 of us stepped forward and said he or she wanted to take a break from the road, but our thoughts all seemed to move in that direction. Saying Hello to the people at the mission I used to work at, turned into asking to spend the night. Although the mission house has several vacant bedrooms with several empty beds, Chris, the director of the mission and his wife Leslie, don't really allow people inside his house. Instead we'd be sleeping in a side building. We arrived after the restaurants had closed and Chris didn't offer us any food. So for dinner I suggested we eat at the house of my haitian friends the Fresno's. The Fresno family squats on a barren hillside up from the highway. Their house is typical for Haiti, made of oddly shaped stones held to together with mud. No one in the Fresno family has real employment. They buy wood from the market, split and repackage the wood and then sell for a couple pennies more. As the weary traveller's took showers and settled in for the night, I walked around with Wesley, the oldest Fresno son, who helped me find a place to buy little cornmeal and beans. When I arrived the Fresno family gave me the warmest of welcomes and Ya-ya, the matriarch, immediately started a little cooking fire. That night the four visitors sat with the family and joked around. We took turns joking around, singing songs, trading tongue twisters, and sharing a little of our native languages. Demeter mentioned on a couple of occasion how he understood why I chose to spend most my evening here during the year I worked for the mission.

Tortuga Island

***As written by Jack***

Tortuga was pretty interesting. We arrived at night and radios, TVs outdoor lights, were all blaring, no EHD though, everyone has solar panels and generators. A man invited us into his home, we passed an hour or speaking English and watching DVD's on Haitian history. Instead of being the far flung corner of a failed state, Tortuga bridges the divide between Haiti and the Bahamas. The people here are supporting themselves trading with or working in Nassau and to me seemed untouched by the politics or economy in Port-au-Prince. In addition the hurricane type rain it receives every night makes it into a jungle paradise. The canopy is mostly intact and there are springs gushing everywhere. We didn't get a chance to see the uninhabited north coast or the wide sandy beaches on the western tip, so there is still a lot left to explore.

"Did you just climb Everest?"

were the first words from my Scottish friend Ewan as I walked through the door of the base at Sources Chaud. All the sun I've been getting out on the open road has caught up with me. Both my nose and forehead sluffed off yesterday. The Haitians all stared in disbelief, skeptical that the sun could do that. After all it the same sun on their face and it certainly never did that to them. I'm taking better care now, appling aloe often and keeping covered with a bandana whenever I step outside.

Safe and sound

I ended up having to cross through the aweful checkpoint in the parched plain east of Port-au-Prince. The guards on the Dominican Republic side were really helpful and there was plenty of Haitian street youth hanging around to aid whenever I needed translation from Spanish to Kreyol. Amazing they Customs didn't care that title, registration, insurance, everything, was just shoddy photocopies. Plus bringing the bike across was only $3 extra. As I pass the gate into no-man's-land I just walked my bike along, waiting to get away from the crowd of people to start up the engine. The street kids I'd befriended made a game of it and all got together tried to see how fast they could get me going just by pushing. Once in Haiti, I was anxious to have to pass through the Port-au-Prince. When I came to the first crossroad I was in disbelief I could have got so far so easily and so quickly and so I just chalked it up to a faulty memory, maybe there was a third crossroad I'd forgotten about. When I arrived at the second crossroads without having even begun to be nauseated by usual stench, clutter, and chaos, I figured I was lost and asked for direction. When the gas station attendant told me just follow this road out of town, it seemed to good to be true. It took no less than 5 familiar landmark on the road out of town for me to believe that it had all been so easy. The next 40 miles up to Pierre Payen were uneventful with the bike not missing a beat. When I arrived at my old driveway Camilla, the cook, was on the roadside attending her new little fast food stand. She recognized me immediately and started hooping and hollering joy and yelling for Marie-Phile, the little girl I tutored, to come. All over the town I've had the same wonderful welcome from all my friends. Jean-Renaud, the project foreman, even lent me his computer so I could write you this entry.

He made it!

To the Dominican anyway. Jack purchased a dirt bike and I believe, after signing papers in a lawyer office, today he is on his way to Haiti. Does the bike look like this?

Or maybe this?

He promised to send pictures, which I will probably be the one to post since I have more a reliable and fast internet connection.

But now that I for sure know he has a bike I need to start looking for a bike helmet for myself! I think I'll pass on the leather jacket though simply because of the heat.

Introductions

Hi. My blogger id is Intrepidity and my real id is Erin, Jack's girlfriend. He's added me as a team member to his blog. Talk about a big step in the relationship! Not quite equivalent to a key but close. =P Since I have the gift of gab moreso than Jack he was happy to add me as a blog writer! I won't join him in Haiti for another two months but when I do, we both hope to use this site to keep in touch with home, family and friends.

Currently, Jack is with me in DC. He'll take off for the Caribbean next Tuesday.

The Indie Cover Album

Ramesh Srivastava [of Voxtrot] - Shayla (Blondie Cover)
The Concretes - Miss You (Rolling Stones Cover)
Rosie + Sufjan - The One I Love (Rem Cover)
Elliott Smith - Trouble (Cat Stevens Cover)
Metric - Between the Bars (Elliott Smith Cover)
The Arcade Fire - Naive Melody (Talking Heads Cover)
Cat Power - Wonder Wall (Oasis Cover)
My Morning Jacket - Tyrone (Erykah Badu Cover)
The Postal Service - Against All Odds (Phil Collins Cover)
Iron & Wine - Such Great Heights (Postal Service Cover)
The Decemberists - Bridges and Balloons (Joanna Newsom Cover)
Bright Eyes - Seashell Tale (M. Ward Cover)
M. Ward - Let Dance (David Bowie Cover)
Pedro the Lion - Let Down (Radiohead Cover)
Rouge Wave - Debaser (Pixies Cover)
Calexico + Iron & Wine - Wild Horses (Rolling Stones Cover)
Gary Jules - Mad World (Tears for Fears Cover)