A Tribute to the Youth of "Cite Soleil!"

When I first arrived in Haiti, I had the opportunity to visit several of our project's Youth Centers in the Port-au-Prince area. At the end of the day, I also had the chance to visit a few of these centers located in "Cite Soleil" --one of the the most infamous and poverty-stricken areas of Haiti. Much larger than a slum, Cite Soleil is in fact like a separate country within a country. During the height of the political unrest in 2004, Cite Soleil was one of the main "hot spots" for turmoil and violence. The people who dwell here today rarely ever leave, and suffer some the most severe manifestations of deprivation on earth (can you tell I've been writing a lot of briefs for our project?) The out-of-school youth of Cite Soleil in the IDEJEN program are indeed some of the greatest inspirations you will find, period. They have seen and been through it all--and that is an understatement. I know my trip there to see them was nothing short of inspiring. Here are a few of my thoughts and some pictures to accompany the day.

Before I left that morning, I remember Melanie (my supervisor) wanting to make sure that I wasn't going be taken into Cite Soleil. She herself has yet to visit the area. So it came as a little bit of a surprise when my time came. With me, crammed into the back of our pick-up truck, was Barbara (new Communications Manager) and Maxence (professional photographer) who was accompanying us to photograph some of the youth. Up in the front seat was my buddy, and coordinating officer for the zone, Chandler. Entering Cite Soleil was a bit like entering Hell on earth. As we drove in, I felt a mixture of anticipation, fear, and excitement all wrapped up into one emotion. I can remember praying to come out of it alive--something I have rarely done.

After snapping this shot, my camera officially died--although no pictures could really capture the essence of this place. I was so mad at the time, but then came to the realization that this probably happened for a few reasons. A) People living in such poverty don't deserve to have cameras pointed in their face by gawking Americans, staring at them from the windows of their expensive vehicles; and B) It was probably better than I didn't attract more attention to myself than I was already doing.

The area resembled a virtual war-zone, where life was simply carrying on as usual--because that's all people could do. Live their lives. I'll admit that I was a bit taken back when I turned my head and saw a larger-than-life, white UN army tanker, loaded with fully-armed troops pointing their weapons at everything in their immediate path (inlcuding us). This was definitely a first for me.
Although nothing could describe the misery that existed here, nothing could describe the spirit of resilience that also lingered amidst the despair.
After winding our way through the terrain, we pulled into our first Youth Center--perfectly inconspicuous, nestled behind one of many cinder-block walls and a solid iron gate.

One question: how would you like to run into a this group of youngsters in a dark alley at night? My thoughts exactly.

As strange as it sounds, it was easy to get lost in the deepness of their eyes which seemed to tell a story all of their own. One could only imagine the things these young people have seen and lived through. But don't be fooled by that hard outer shell. Underneath the exterior facade, these youth were amazingly warm, friendly, and full of life and pure resilience.

So of course, I just had to jump out of the truck (just for a minute) to say hi. I was definitely given a royal greeting.
I then figured it was time to jump back into the truck. As you can tell, we gave the youth a lift as well (I was in the enclosed part up front, mind you).

Here some of the group poses for a shot with Chandler--who is not only a great leader for the project, but a mentor and friend to many of these youth. It was amazing to see how well he knew each of them personally and how much they looked up to him and respected him.
So here's what we were documenting that day. Some 28 of these youth had taken part in a month-long project where they, with the help of a few partner organizations, built four new bus stops in the community. It was a great learning opportunity for the youth and also helped the greater community to begin seeing these young people in a new light--as active, trustworthy members of society and not just troublemakers. And it was fun to see how proud the kids were to showcase a bit of their handy work.

Once inside the Centers, our photographer proceeded to capture a small slice of what these youth learn as a part of their vocational training. I think he did a great job.

It was amazing to see the kids in action.

I was particularly impressed to see girls participating in and learning traditionally male-dominated trades like carpentry and auto-mechanics. Isn't it great? We've got guys sewing and girls getting greasy under the hood. Something about this 19 year-old girl (above) definitely made her stand out to me. She had also helped build the bus stops.

And then there were the sandal-makers. My love of shoes and of these young people caused me to buy my fair share.

Although I didn't get to actually see them making the sandals (I was in the truck), I was still thoroughly impressed with the creativity and skill of these youngsters.
I commissioned an order of custom-designed sandals and then had them delivered to me by Wold at the office in Petion-ville. What service!! (They had it hard the first time around since my feet were just too big). Unfortunately, I left the country before receiving my last pair- cute pink ones at that--dang it!

By the end of the day, I was thoroughly exhausted. We had been going strong since around 8 am. But I was nonetheless still very much captivated by my surroundings--taking it all in from the car window. Now you'll pardon me for getting a little more personal here, but I remember as we were sitting in the parked car waiting for Maxence to finish up one of his shoots inside, I became "caught" in the gaze of one particular street child's stare. At the risk of sounding cheezy, when our eyes locked, it really was like getting a glimpse into her soul. She had been playing in the rocks and debris, and having quite a fun time doing it. I remember quite distinctly thinking that if I ever did make it to heaven, this exact face would be a very familiar sight. That these were, among others of course, the very people I would see there.

They day was truly unforgettable. The entire experience definitely made my work with the IDEJEN project all the more meaningful. It made the drudgery that sometimes accompanied the many writing pieces I had to produce, seem more like a privilege than a hassle, as I was able to put faces and emotions behind all those technical words.

This little glimpse of a world within a world was indeed beautiful in its misery, inspiring in its poverty, and colorful in its hopelessness- because it was real and it was human. The day was a testament of how lucky we all are to live where we do and to have all that we possess. It was also a grand testament of the resiliency of the human spirit.

"Love is my Religion"

So I think we've already discovered that I have an utter fascination with the public transport in this country. Buses are literally pieces of artwork on wheels. Absolutely incredible. However, I have been equally amused by the way that God and religion have been so seamlessly blended with public transport and life in general. So let's put kidnappings, riots, and general political unrest aside for a second. This place is the virtual Woodstock of the western hemisphere. So here's a tribute to finding peace, one love, one life, and getting together. And yes, everything's gonna be alright.

This little gem of a bus has done what many vehicles here decide to do--sport painted Bible scripture. I believe here we have Mathew 6:33 which respectfully translates to: "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." And no, I didn't know that off the top of my head.
I couldn't make out this one too well. I think it's in Creole and talking about Jesus (smart one, I know).
And here it is in English talking about Jesus.
I thought this one was saying "Delite" at first. Nope, it says "Fidelite" (Faithfullness).
Not only are these babies full of love, they are jam-packed full of people. It reminded me of riding the "shappas" in Mozambique--to some degree, but not nearly as bad.

I'm making out "souvenir de mon frere" (remember my brother).
"Dieu en Tout" (God in Everything).

But lest you think that religion was only limited to transport, think again. Shops of all sorts were named after the Divine--including the "Eternal Father Lottery." Very appropriately named don't you think?

And then there's your "Extra Millennium Lottery" as well. How sweet.
My favorite: Why not name your struggling restaurant "God is Love?" (Dieu est Amour) It couldn't hurt right? (especially when the doorway is decked out with dangling, sparkle beads)

Some other common "writings on the wall" included: "God, are you there?" "Peace and love are all you need" "Eternity is Here" "Will and Courage=Success"......the list goes on my friends. A neat concept actually. I like it. We could all use a little more love in our lives. And when you're feeling down, it never hurts to have a friendly reminder, or two....plastered on everything around you in the immediate vicinity. It makes ya feel so good inside! I'm getting warm fuzzies just thinking of it.

"The Office"

Lest you think that all I ever did on this internship was play, here's a glimpse of what my days REALLY looked like (just to put the record straight!) However, since I had planned on photographing all my office buds and daily routines during my last week in the country (cut a little short!)...I sadly missed out on capturing the real essence of office life. That being said, here's what I do have to show for myself...

With two small children each waking up around 5:30 am, our days definitely got off to an early start. Much earlier than I have ever been used to. Much earlier than I ever want to be used to again. I have never been more grateful for earplugs --they were, hands down, the best piece of equipment I brought with me besides my laptop.

So just before 7:30 am, I could expect a knock on the front door from one of our trusty drivers--either Ronald, Alex, or Stanislaus. Their cheery dispositions in those early hours made everything seem a-okay. Then it was time to get the kids' gear and lunches together, load em' in the car, and then drop em' off at school. Pictured below is one of the greatest inventions of the modern world.

We called it "Drive-Thru Day Care." Absolutely genius. Why this idea has not caught on in the States, I do not know. We've got drive-thru food, movies, car-washes, and grocery shopping to name a few items, so why not child care?
After waiting in "the line up,"

all one had to do was make sure that the car door was unlocked. The rest was taken care of for you. The friendly staff simply reached in, grabbed the kid, grabbed the loot, and sent you on your merry way.

Another 5 or so minutes down the road, depending on traffic that morning, we would pull into IDEJEN's office. With a toot of the horn, the guard would pull open the iron gate, and let you in.

It was always nice to be greeted by Marcelle at the front desk. I could always count on Marcelle to take care of my many cell phone problems/issues. At first I got excited every time my special phone would ring and I assumed that people I didn't even know wanted to talk to me. My excitement was short-lived. Marcelle had to bail me out of many an awkward phone conversation in Creole with people all looking for Guerda (the boss). No matter how many times I tried to explain that this wasn't Guerda's phone, nobody seemed to get it. I then got smart and stopped answering my phone all together.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the office. As the only American and first intern the project has had in Haiti, I did my best to fit in and not look too dumb. That entailed surmounting a substantial learning curve--including speaking an embarrassingly sorry and twisted version of French (I do however give myself credit for trying, no matter how ridiculous I sounded). In the end, I think it only helped me----or helped people feel sorry and take pity on me. And then it was time to get down to business. Before 8 am, you could find me in one of my many "offices." I put that in quotation marks because I never actually had a permanent place to dwell. I was what you might call "a floater," a roamer, a vagabond of sorts. On any given day, you could find me hard at work in any number of places.

For the first couple of weeks, I set up camp in the conference room.

When they moved the big desk and leather swivel chair away, I made myself at home at the large conference table below.

That is, until there were actual conferences to be held. So more often than not, I was kicked out and left in search of another, temporarily vacant space.
Sometimes I snuck into Chantal's office upstairs to set up shop.

Or if I was super lucky, I could widdle my way into Guerda's office (equipped with all I could ever wish for-- great view, stereo system, and refrigerator).

When Barbara, the new Communications Manager, left for the month of March, I got the brilliant idea to take over her office for the time being. And so I finally felt like I had a home. A place of refuge to call my own.

My favorite part was getting to work just a thin, bamboo-screen-away from "Deputy Chief of Party," Jean-Thiomas Giraud--aka "Giraud" (everyone here goes by their last name). Doesn't the name just say it all? This laugh-out-loud, bang-your-hands-on-the-desk-at-all hours-of-the-day character like out of a TV sitcom, never ceased to bring a smile to my face. I loved the guy, but due to his extreme formality, I could never figure out a word he was saying. He once attempted to ask me if I had found some information that I had been looking for. In French, it ended up sounding something like this-- "Is it that you have succeeded to acquire that information which you were procuring with the aid of the people here which are assisting you in your search for the answers you still lack?" Oh Giraud, Giraud, Giraud. Bless his little heart.

When Barbara came back in April, I was uprooted yet once again. This time, I had my sights set on the upstairs loft area where I was able to spread out on the plastic lawn chairs and feel the warm, gentle breezes blowing in from the exposed, barred windows.

Although open to the unpredictability of the elements, the work days passed by a little quicker from up here. Strategically positioned in the middle of a main thorough-fare for all upstairs staff, I was able to chat it up with anyone and everyone (this conveniently breaking up the monotony of endless report writing).

However, by around 3 o'clock, I usually hit my max and the office suddenly seemed more like prison. With no where to go to escape, walk, or take a break--it took some getting used to. Sometimes I would stare out at the outside world through the open windows and long to run free-even if for just a few, blissful minutes.

Downstairs congregating around the front door, you could always find an array of people-- whether it be drivers, field agents making a routine pit stop, or other personnel. Here we have, from left to right: a field agent (who always wore the coolest top hats), yours truly, Desinol (the janitor), and Alex (a project driver). I never got a chance to take shots of my best buds, but here are a few of "my main men" hard at work at an IDEJEN retreat we held in the mountains.

By far, the best part of the working life was the interactions I had with my fellow co-workers. When I felt I could not write another success story, project report, or continue working on my thesis, I could always count on some friendly faces to make everything seem okay. Above, sitting down with a big grin on his face is Isnel, one of the happier people I got to associate with. Had I not known better, I might have mistaken this kid for a Mormon missionary.

And seated above from left to right we have Wold, Fristzner, Fritz-Gerald, Jonny, and me. Great names huh? Wold was nice enough to indulge me in a great interview, where I learned a ton about what makes his Youth Centers so successful. Fritzner is one of the project accountants and never ceased to greet me with a huge smile and hello. Fritz-Gerald is a Monitoring and Evaluation officer, and Jonny is the new Youth Career Centers Coordinator who amazed me by his pure enthusiasm, dedication, and excitement for the work we were doing (now I'm sounding a little like a missionary).

Sadly, this is the only shot I have of Barbara (below). And then there are another two favorites of the bunch--Chandler and Wold. I can't tell if Chandler is wiping Wold's lip or telling him to shut his mouth.

Although these two field agents spent most of their time with the youth themselves (in the Port-au-Prince zone pictured here), you could usually catch them at the end of the month writing reports at the main office in Petion-ville (and providing much needed entertainment for me!)

Some of my other favorite people not pictured included:

Guerda--This project's Chief of Party always treated me like a million bucks even though I'm sure I caused her more problems than I ended up helping the project. No one could run this place better than her--and with a smile the whole time.

Chantal--I thought this 40-something year old Training Officer was in her 20s. I often took style notes from this extremely cool Haitian beauty queen, who always put my wardrobe and shoe collection to shame. I could also always count on Chantal to get me the information I needed for my many writing pieces. Talk about being on top of it.

Judemyre--This administrative assistant could seem a little "stand-offish" at first....that is until you broke her down. And then it hardly seemed like you were talking to the same person.

And there was Junia--Because our conversations pretty much consisted of "bonjour" and "cava," huge smiles and "kisses" had to transcend the language barrier between us. And that was okay. She could light up the whole office.

And now on to some of my favorite aspects of daily life. In the beginning, Desinol (janitor) would bring me trays of espresso served on fine china throughout the day. When I explained that I really didn't drink the stuff (crazy weird I know), he then started bringing me my own water tray.

The special treatment didn't last too long though--once he saw that I could walk all the way downstairs to the water dispenser and fill up my own glass. He persisted in asking me whether the extra labor I was performing (by walking up and down the stairs) was too taxing on me. I tried to explain that I loved it. It was great getting out of the conference room. He didn't get it.
Precious isn't it? Why don't interns get this kind of treatment in the States??

Sometimes while inside the protected walls of the office, it was easy to forget that I was in a developing country. But not for long. Especially on those days when internet connection stopped functioning completely, when the power generator gave out, or the day when when I walked into my office and discovered this large hole in the ground next to my desk.

In order to be culturally sensitive, I put the camera away before the entire sewage crew came in to clean up the mess/explosion/flood going on beneath the floor boards. I turned on my head phones to drown out the sounds of gargling mystery liquids and loud sucking machines.

I also loved the communal bathrooms equipped with step-by-step instructions on how to take care of business in the cleanliest, most efficient manner (there was definitely an element of formality here in Haiti that I didn't find in DC).

And I appreciated the friendly reminder that made it clear that "pipi" was not allowed in the non-functioning bath tub below (just in case one was confused about its purpose).

Sometimes my days were long and draining. Sometimes they were filled with excitement. Sometimes they were just normal. But they were always good if I let them be and they always taught me something if I was willing to learn. Isn't that a metaphor for life? But it was a great feeling to finish up a productive day and then step outside of our sheltered complex to feel the sun's rays.

And then to be greeted by Stanislaus, ready to usher us home in style.

Boy did I learn a lot from my time working with IDEJEN. It was one of those "once-in-a-lifetime" experiences that will be hard to ever match. I will forever be grateful to all those people who welcomed me, inspired me, patiently worked with me, and treated me like one of their own!!