Up you go and you are on top of that mountain, with our tiny Corcovado looking down on you, and pathways surrounded by lush vegetation complete the set. And again, the chance to see that glorious Amber coast from so many different angles. The sight of the ocean, combined with a fresh breeze, must be some of the most soothing things there are on this earth.

I was terrified on the way down. When you see the incline on those wires, you kind of automatically think that you’ll go on a somewhat free fall down and it will be fast. There were only 3 other people and I on the way down. Plus the controller (so that cart felt awfully light, which made me more nervous). Let’s put it this way, it took me a while to be able to move, or look anywhere on the way down. To make matters worse, the cart radio was playing old songs all around the topic of “God have mercy of us”. I’m pretty sure they do it on purpose.

After that failed visit when I was little, I somewhat vowed to be back to the cable car and do it. Silly as it may sound, I felt pretty great after it was all over. I did enjoy myself very much. Cam and I took really cool pictures. I felt at peace for a while. If you get that sort of result by going back to your “bucket list from when you were 5″ and achieve that kind of sense of self-accomplishment, it’s worth it. I’d definitely go back.

I’ll probably write an entry around the same lines when I go back to Disney World as an adult. Have you ever done (or almost did) something when you were a child and actually did it or revisited after being an adult?

I’d love to hear more experiences like this.

XO

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There was a family of four sitting in front of us: mom and dad with two little girls, probably not older than 3 or 4 years old. I don’t know if it was because they (or the girls) were taking the train for the first time, or if it was just for kicks – but they were clicking away and taking tons of pictures of themselves, much to the amusement of the two little girls, who were laughing nonstop with that kind of child laugh that leaves you no choice but to laugh (or at least smile with a tiny corner of your lips). They wanted to look at the pictures, try out taking pictures of the dad, and just have fun. At one point, the security guard in the cart came over and asked them to please turn off the flash. He said he could take as many pictures as they wanted, just with no flash (very politely by the way). The dad turns off the flash and carries on. No complaints.

In a country where violence is more and more common and children suffer so much neglect and are conceived so unconsciously at times, it was so incredibly refreshing to see two parents showing love to their kids and doing something simple to have fun with them. It was at least apparent in the way they treated their girls that they care deeply for them. I remember fondly the weekend mornings of my younger ages, when Dad would take pictures of us from the minute we woke up to the minute we went to bed at night (we’re talking back in the day where cameras used film). There is one main reason why taking a picture of someone is kind of a big deal to me: to take a picture of a person, you have to look at them. If you want to achieve a good picture, you have to really look at them, pay attention to capture those emotions that come around just that precise second and you could easily miss. When you think about it, taking pictures is quite the exercise and the experience.

This was just something great to see in the middle of the everyday parents yelling at their kids for no reason, and I wanted to share. Maybe it wasn’t a special ride and they were just going home. But that family was just having SO MUCH FUN!

Cam and I couldn’t help laughing then. Right now, as I write this under a very gray and bleak sky, I can’t help smiling. Thank you, family of strangers, for making my day a little better.

(And thank you Jack Johnson for the title).

A

There must be nothing harder to do in this world than leave your child to die. For the sake of others, or for whatever reason.

Now, one reads this kind of things and a number of questions and loose statements come to mind: “Gee, that’s terrible”; “Gee, that’s terrible, but it’s so far away from me it really doesn’t affect me”; “It’s not like I don’t have people in need around me, why should I care about this?”; “There’s really nothing I can do about this, so I just won’t read/hear about it and avoid getting depressed”. I think all these reactions are normal. And having them (one or many) doesn’t make anyone a bad person.

As someone who has made a career choice towards development, I can’t help but become interested. There is also an academic analytical curiosity that drives me to the problem as far as understanding causes, effects, socioeconomic and political consequences, and so forth. The important part is, the famine in East Africa is a tragedy to ALL humanity. And last time I checked, we are ONE race. We should all be constricted, we should all be worried, we should all be aware (even if it’s just to learn about how can this be avoided in other parts of the world with similar vulnerabilities).

Maybe all you can do is pray about it (that alone is A LOT, do not underestimate yourself). Maybe, however, one RT will reach the right person who can materially do something about it, or knows someone or works somewhere we can do about it. For me, the first lesson I am reminded of when I read about famine is to not waste food. People often see other commodities as more scarce around the world, but food, any kind, is such a precious good for a lot of people. A lot. From the homeless who rummage through your trash can to those people in Somalia who seem so remote.

This should also move us towards thinking about our own countries’ economic models and how these affect food prices. Are our countries implementing policies that will ensure and short and long term food self-sustainability? If not, imports will be more abundant, and therefore the country’s debt will increase as well. The CIPs will continue to be high, as not only production costs are higher for local farmers (specially when agricultural inputs are difficult and their areas lack supporting infrastructure like irrigation canals) but they also have to compete against imported products, which are often cheaper because supply is higher. All this affects what each family, in an economy with high inflation and an ineffective indexation policy (which shrinks acquisition power because the more things cost the least you can buy with your paycheck) and threatens their food security.

This is definitely not all there is to this subject. Might just be a start. But there is so much to food security and so many factors affect it, that the Somalia situation made me think at a more local level. As always, my blog welcomes all opinions through comments and recommendations for more resources about this subject.

(This entry was just a little bit of procrastination and I apologize for the lack of gramatical structure).

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I have noticed a growing trend (one inevitable to notice if you come to Pedernales) from international cooperation/foreign aid agencies to fund environmental protection programs. Preventive education, recycling, clean energy, organic agriculture, reforestation, you name it. When you’re used to focusing in hunger, disease prevention, primary attention, economic opportunities, there is a part of your mind that does find kinda lame that someone is funding solar panels or planting trees by a river or something of the sort. The way I would think was: you know how many kids you could save with that money? Or something like that. It wasn’t until now that I realized that there is no sustainable development without environmental protection. I was given two very simple examples that made me understand.
Last week, while looking for Internet references on Thiotte, I came across an article published in Esquire magazine earlier this year, that talked about the once booming Haitian coffee production. (did you know about this? I sure didn’t). When the embargo hit in in the early 90s and there was no fuel, the first trees to go down were the coffee trees. The writer makes reference to a couple dozen coffee trees remaining deep inside the mountains in Thiotte. Just a few dozen from what he calls one of the best kinds of coffee there was (and he’s a coffee connoisseur).
I went to Thiotte and I had no idea there used to be a coffee industry there.
Then at a meeting in Santo Domingo where the environmental protection topic came up, my boss talked about the Rio Blanco flooding. (A couple years ago a river that runs through Jimani and the Haitian border town overflowed and swept clean entire communities. Rescue workers were digging bodies for weeks. I don’t think anyone knows how many died). And he said something I hadn’t thought about: if there would’ve been more trees along the river trail, they could’ve stopped the water a bit. And maybe not so many people would’ve died.
Climate change has such adverse, unpredictable effects that it can totally screw up whatever it is you’re doing to alleviate poverty in a country or region. Realizing that we need to protect our environment and our ecosystems in order to ensure economic growth that will last is not being a hippie. It’s actually being smart and realistic. Its important to teach the poor that economic growth needs to come with a rational use of natural resources. If we abuse those, there will be nothing left to use and life won’t be possible.
I’d love to find more resources discussing the relationship between environmental protection and economic development. Suggestions and comments are always welcome.
I know some of my posts are not the most scholarly ones but its just some food for thought. Maybe you hadn’t thought about it either.
XO
A

Now, this trip was quite the adventure. Let’s start with this: all my motocross/enduro/X-Games dreams came true. I was seriously considering a hip replacement afterwards. And I still doubt my reproductive capacity afterwards because I’m sure things moved around. Let’s just say this. The road is BAD. If you can call it a road. Even 4×4 SUVs have a hard time doing it. We did the 2.5 hour uphill ride to Thiotte in motorcycles. Luckily Facile and Jhonny are expert drivers so I was in good hands. Two bad things: 1) I didn’t realize none of us was wearing a helmet until we were almost back at the office, and 2) I am WAY lighter than I thought, because I was bouncing off that seat A LOT. I could barely close my fist from the pain of holding on so hard.

Now, the road up is absolutely breathtaking. The landscape transforms in front of your eyes. You begin with dry weather trees, then go up and the valley vegetation thickens. You can see the whole Neyba valley on the right, and the mountains melting into the Caribbean sea to your left. A blue ocean with a million gold sparkles as the sun starts to set. Populations are very scattered as you go up. But it’s great to see more and more trees as you go up.

And then, next thing you know…it’s colder. And greener. And you’re in Thiotte, and…

It’s a pine forest.

In Haiti.

In a country so criticized by environmentalists for abusing its natural resources, I was at a place where I was surrounded by pine trees.

Thiotte is BEAUTIFUL!

It made me realize that Haiti is not all the terrible things you see in the news. (The southeast is almost a parallel universe where life goes on peacefully – now “disturbed” by a significant population increase due to internally displaced people who’ve relocated to the area after the Jan 2010 earthquake. But there is not that unrest you see in larger areas. People are fairly educated. I haven’t felt stared at or discriminated or anything).

Maybe there is more hope we think after all. Places like Thiotte make me think that way.

More to come on the new job, and life and love and food and everything else.

XO

A

It’s more and more common to see locals as project managers and country officers. Not so common when I was a kid.

Among the visits we made on my first trip to Haiti, was an American nonprofit offering nutritional assistance to children in Haiti. It’s pretty much a one-man (or woman) band with some volunteers coming periodically to assist with distribution. One of the questions the people I was with asked was about the challenges she faced. She mentioned staff; that there were no capable people in Haiti to do the job, to do her job. In other words, there was no one in Haiti that could work distribution, accounting, sales, or whatever else she needed. The only areas where she had Haitian staff, I believe, were helping with manufacturing and driving. Now, the problem: our organization’s country director (a Haitian) was standing there.

I think one of the harmful effects of extensive foreign aid intervention can be the demeaning of local capacity. This, however, can happen for a number of reasons. Although it IS true that often in developing countries, deficient educational levels mean you have to work with staff more unqualified, I think foreign intervention for development should always aim to leave their projects in the hands of locals who can make them more sustainable. Pass on their knowledge to locals who can combine their acquired knowledge with their field experience and their knowledge of the ground’s socioeconomic conditions.

This is why I was pleasantly surprised to see that on my new job’s operational team, I am the only foreigner, the only non-Haitian. And they are all smart, committed, realistic and perfectly capable. And that is GREAT! Great opportunity for me to sit down and LISTEN, and LEARN. From people who have a lot to teach and few people who bother to listen. From a sample of the many Haitians that HAVE decided to stay, or come back, and rebuild their country.

I remember that after we visited that lady back in 2008, we discussed about the matter for quite a while. I’m so glad that at least in my eyes, time is proving her wrong.

XO

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So a lot has happened since I last published here, so I will start catching up according to the order I get inspired to write about. This blog will begin a series of posts on my impressions being back in the nonprofit/international development field, being back in the DR work environment, similarities and differences from my previous experiences. What am I learning? What’s making me think? What’s pissing me off? Where are “best practices” more needed? All that, somehow.We’ll see. Like I said, I’ll write according to how inspiration hits, so these will not be published in a continuous manner. My next post might actually be about the US Capitol tour. I loved it!

Enough. Let’s get started. For those who do not know, I am working as a program monitor for a local NGO on a women’s empowerment project with 3 basic components: a) education in prevention and fight against domestic violence, b) education about community leadership, wage-earning activities, and business coaching/management, and 3) microfinance. 2 years out of 3 left. Funded by USAID. The only “foreigner” in the team is me. Everyone else is Haitian (take that, people who think Haitians are not capable of doing their own thing!!!!). This means my French needs to get in shape STAT. I might sign up for that Livemocha thing. Or just “hire” Miriam (i.e; cooking for her once a week or something) to be my French conversation partner.

Right now I am going over the documents sent by our source of funding regarding communications and advertisement regarding the food security component of the intervention in this Haitian community (distributing food donations among the most vulnerable individuals. Now, when I read the amount of mandatory repetition of the source of this food aid, it makes me think if foreign aid from developed countries might be channeling another form of propaganda.

I agree with clearly stating your sources of funding. Now, I can’t help but wonder why is it required to mention it in every possible intervention (from pamphlets to oral reminders). I can’t help but thinking; this is a little “Monroe-ish doctrine-esque”. Makes me think this could have a dually harmful effect: a) reinforce that “Guacanagarix complex” of “foreign is better; foreign is the way to go”, even on foreign aid; and b) a local NGO can’t do things well on their own. Not even attempt to do their fundraising locally.

I am aware that in developing countries, funding constraints are pretty important, and you have to go where the money is, even if, as an organization, it means you have to pitch with your arm tied to your back. But I think these requirements might hurt in a future a community’s acceptance of “more local” initiatives. Maybe, just maybe…

I don’t like this “mentioning all over again” that money/in-kind donations come from this specific source, whatever it is. Why use foreign aid to reinforce the sense of dependency and superiority from a developed country. Am I crazy or could this actually have a de-empowerment effect in both communities and local NGOs?

I’ll go back to translating my branding strategy and marketing plan for this thing, but I wanted to throw that out there. I just feel that this requirement to bombard people with reminders of where does aid come from doesn’t really help the case.

I might write about this a little more after I’m done translating, but would love to hear some thoughts on the subject.

Thanks!

A

I was shocked to see that my significant other has posted a picture on his facebook profile of his post-jaw surgery face, swollen, bruised and chapped. He looked tired and numbed from pain medication. He did however had a good reason for it. “I wanted to be reminded that there have been worse times, and it wasn’t so long ago. I see it as an exercise in being thankful for making it through. Things have been harder before and I’ve made it through”.

Being so close to the end of the year, this day is strategically located. If we are wise enough, it’s a good day to start end-of-the year self-evaluations with the right mindset: that no matter how much crappy stuff has come upon us on the almost-ending year, we are still here. We have possessions that make our life easier and better (if used wisely). We have people that build our support system (Which to me, along with God’s Word, is like the soul’s immune system). We’ve had happy times, and sad times that have made us stronger and better. An best of all, we are approaching the time when (even if not historically accurate – blame the Romans for it) we must be thankful fo the greatest gift of all: the Light of the world.

I am thankful for the good and the bad. The people; they know who they are. I hope I have been vocal enough to all the people whose love and support have literally kept me alive, how much they mean to me. To thank those who have believed in me blindly at times. I hope I wont let them down.

All future times can only be better. Be grateful for the present and the promise of a future.

Or just be grateful, period.

First with the head and then with the heart.

Because this fits perfectly to pretty much every situation.

I am repeatedly guilty of putting the heart first and then somewhere along, I’ll put the head. As a result, I’ve set myself for failure, put myself in situations where I am more prone to be broken, and have made a fool of myself more than I care for.
The Bible wasn’t wrong when it said; out of all things, guard your heart. When you think about it, putting the head first puts it a step ahead of the heart, to cover him up and protect it (a bit, because some pain is sometimes necessary) from getting (too) hurt. I wish I would put the head first more open.

There has to be a balance between head and heart. I certainly have not achieved it yet. But staying true to myself is a good start. And I feel like, despite what my conditions are (and they are far from favorable), my head and my heart are okay on their own and okay with each other.

This wad supposed to be a “book review” entry. I feel like it turned into a moral/rant type of thing. I apologize if I’m not making any sense. Sometimes I just don’t.

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