From New York, New York to Fond-Des-Blancs, Haiti

When living in an apartment, I had once forgotten what a peaceful morning was like and adapted to the sound of kids next door griping about going to school, thunderous neighbors, policemen sounding their whistles and taxis blowing their horns; All of which come with living in the “Big Apple”.  Every day in Fond-des-Blancs seems as though there is no rush; you live your life and never take it for granted.  In the mornings, I no longer wake up to the unpleasant repetition of my bedside alarm clock.  Instead I awake to “Big Red”, the neighborhood rooster, whom usually starts crowing at dawn. 

As I lie in my bed I gaze at the ceiling, watching the morning light as it streams in through the vent block walls.  A cool breeze dances across my bedroom as I surface and go to dress in front of my armoire.  I walk through my home to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee, the daily ritual I have retained from life in the city.  It was a big change to move from the largest city in the United States to Fond-des-Blancs, a small town in Haiti.  Out my window I see grass and dirt, a large contrast to the other skyscrapers I was familiar with. 

I sat on my porch sipping my coffee while thinking about all that I gave up leaving this place for it had been several years since I lived in this small town. It is often every day that I am greeted by my friendly neighbor, Johanna, on her way to teach at the new school built down the road.  It is Friday, a day that merely symbolizes the end of the week in the city.  Here it is much more than that, Friday is Market Day.

The day of the week meant for community and delight.  I swiftly clean my coffee cup using the water I had gathered the day prior, and neatly place it back in the cabinet with the others. 

One of the best parts of Market Day is simply the walk to the market.  Walking in the city of New York, while an amazing experience, could never match the experience of walking the roads of Haiti.  Here you smell nature, experience stunning views of mountains and perfect weather conditions.  I tighten the straps of my sandals over my feet, put on my hat and head out for my journey.

It takes about forty minutes to walk, but some days I wish it were even longer! I approach the cactus fence bounding my yard and turn around to admire the house that I had built here.  It’s petite and yellow with a porch almost half the size of my entire house; the design is not elaborate in any way and has an inviting nature.  I’m drawn in as I run my fingers across the corrugated gate that has begun to rust.          

I know my walk begins as I start to hear the flowing water in the stream.  This stream brings back fond memories of my friends and I playing when we were young, at least until we were chased away by our mothers who wanted to do the laundry in peace.  These days the stream seems much smaller than what I remember.  There is almost an art to crossing the stream that all Haitians have mastered and it is slowly coming back to me.  I stop and stare at the water softly rolling across the rocks, reminiscing, before I continue on.

In the distance I see two familiar faces coming towards me.  Mikelson and Seydou, two of my childhood friends, have already gone to the market and are making the trek back to town.  Mikelson is carrying a bundle of bananas and vegetables while Seydou struggles to lead a goat in the right direction.  For years the three of us walked the same way to school every day.  Every now and then we would successfully convince the men to let us ride on the back of their trucks for half a mile or so, but most days we walked the complete two miles to the schoolhouse.  They both waved and stopped to exchange some words before going our separate ways.

As I continue on, more and more people pass me as I get closer to the market.  I replay the list of things that I need before I enter the bustling streets of the market.  First, I need to get plantains and breadfruit from Yann’s stand that will be fried as a part of tonight’s meal.  Second, I need to pick up the ingredients for diri ak pwa which is the equivalent to beans and rice.  Lastly, I should make my way to Madame Flore’s stand to pick up pork. Finally I enter the crowd, brushing people and animals alike while I make my way around the stands.  Sometimes I am thrust back into my old life as the street bursting with people reminds me of my days back in New York City.  Eventually I finish my errands and bid goodbye to the market as I head through the market back towards town to begin the journey back.

Fond-des-Blancs Diaries

The following are journal entries from two every different people living in Fond-des-Blancs, Haiti.

Dear Diary:                 07/13/2011

I woke up this morning with a good feeling about the day. You would think I would be used to waking up to roosters by now. I suppose it’s better than car horns, screaming children and the hustle of city life, but they never cease to startle me every morning. I love my new job. The school is very nice. The classrooms are much more simple than those I remember in Port-au-Prince. I think it makes for fewer distractions. I have been told some blan are coming to expand the classrooms and design a library for the kids. I think it will be wonderful to have a library.

I have known since I was a child that I wanted to be a teacher. I am only 17 though, and I’m not sure how well the children respect me. Mom would be so proud of me for moving away from the city. That was always her dream. I miss her today. I still can’t erase the memory of that fateful day…I don’t suppose I ever will forget.

I feel much safer in this town. Fond-des-Blancs has given me hope for a better way of life. I walk about 45 minutes to get to school. I have been told it is about 3 ½ miles. As I was walking this morning to school, I passed by a group of children gathered around a pipe coming out of the ground. They were gathering water…fresh water!

That is something I rarely had the privilege of having. We couldn’t afford it. The riverbeds were always dried up and the water that remained was very dirty. I sent my brother to fetch some water once school let out this afternoon. He is happy to do it. He is only 9, but he knows he still has some responsibilities. I try to let him be a kid as much as possible though. He has discovered his love of football, as many of the young boys have.

I am so thankful to have met that man that day in the city. No one has ever paid me any attention. God must have put him in my path that day. I must admit I was scared to move away from everything I knew in the city. I was skeptical of this job offer. I’m glad I came. Now my little brother has a chance to be part of a community. He has the chance to be a kid. I wish I had that chance, but I am so thankful I am where I am now.

I live with 6 other teachers. They have made me feel very welcome. They have even taken on my little brother as one of their own. We live in a 3 bedroom house. I share a room with Madeline and my brother. I don’t mind though. She is sweet and doesn’t mind sharing her space. She tells me that he reminds her of her little brother, but she rarely speaks of him. He stayed in the city with her parents. She came here the same way I did, and she is 19. She is like a sister to me. I could live her forever.               

-Amica

Journal Entry: Life back in Haiti  07/13/2011

It is our first week back in Fond-des-Blancs. I have thought about this time in my life for a long time. I have always wanted to retire here, but never thought I would have it in me to come back. Being back here just for a few days has made me realize how many things I have taken for granted living in a big city…electricity, running water, being able to sleep in… I miss New York, but we are excited about retiring here. My wife was only 9 when she moved to the states. She doesn’t remember much about her life in Haiti. I was 19 when I moved. I grew up here in Fond-des-Blancs. It’s funny how you can remember so much after so long. I probably haven’t thought about my childhood in 5 or 6 years. And even then, it’s been almost 45 years since I have been here.

As my wife and I took a walk along to road to market, we passed a family leading 2 head of cattle. I remember what that was like. We knew that if we sold one, we would have enough money to live off of for a month or two.

Market has changed drastically since I have been here. There are people on motorcycles, people driving through the streets through the crowds of people, people with megaphones… I certainly didn’t expect to see any of these. One thing hasn’t changed though…women run the market place. Their whole family’s income for the week may come from just that one day in market. I could tell they needed the money, but they seemed happy nonetheless. We gathered what we needed, and some things that we didn’t, and had some help to carry it back to our house.

We are still waiting on a well to be dug behind our house so that we can have running water. Until then, we have a young boy to help us out with fetching water. Many of them do not know what it’s like to have water come to their homes, so they don’t know the difference. It would be too hard on us to gather water each day. We are also waiting on a satellite dish to be installed on our roof. We have only been away for a week, but we already dearly miss our grandkids. Having Internet will make my wife happy so she can see them and talk to them.

I do miss having glass windows. There’s a bunch of damn roosters that peck around outside our house and make a lot of noise, and the vent blocks make the walls seem like they aren’t even there. We do like getting up early, though. We love to get up and watch the sunrise over the mountains. We have watched the sun rise over the skyscrapers and layers and layers of buildings for 30+ years. Being back in the mountains is so calming. I look forward to the coming years. 

-Perry

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

The sun's not quite up

But I got the notion

That the morning has begun

Because of all the commotion

People pass my house

More than a few

The roosters call out

“Cock-a-doodle-doo”

In a hurry

People are on their way

To trade, sell, and buy

Cause' it's market day

 

This particular Friday

The market has a crowd

Selling goods with a megaphone

can be quite loud

I came to get poultry

then be on my way

I didn't have enough money

I could not pay

I bargained and bartered

That's all I could do

But the rooster laughed out

“Cock-a-doodle-doo”

The trade was no good

I was not a winner

I guess it's plantains

For tonights dinner

On my way home

I took the path

There were boys in the river

Taking a bath

Their mothers were near

Washing their clothes

In this river

Anything goes

There was also a rooster

I told it to shoo!

But it just mocked me

“Cock-a-doodle-doo”

Finally back home

I'm dying of thirst

In order to cook

We'll need water first

Back down to the river

With jug in hand

Not sure what's for dinner

Still needed a plan

I fill up my jug

With water from the spring

Then I see that same rooster

It's so annoying

It follows me back

All the way to my house

I didn't notice because

It was as quiet as a mouse

What to have for dinner

I still had no clue

But then I got an idea

“Cock-a-doodle-doo”

I prepare to cook

Grab some plates and a bowl

Then head outside

With plenty of charcoal

I started cooking the food

No time to stop

Then grabbed the rooster

“Cock-a-doodle-CHOP!”

The meal was delicious

We cleaned our plates

I was exhausted

And sleep could not wait

We get ready for bed

But it's hard without light

Looking forward to the morning

And a long restful night

I finally went to bed

But then I woke up at two

“You've gotta be kidding me”

“COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO”

Tall tales...

0800

As usual, I woke around 0500 to the sound of roosters all around the neighborhood.  Although many more folks have moved in, I scarcely notice any change in the environment.  After I tied up the goat on the lush path, I ran across the exposed stones towards the stream for a quick wash my and the opportunity to mentally prepare my lesson plans.  Before I headed off to school I boiled a few chicken eggs I had foraged on our new indoor stove.  I ate my breakfast on the go and arrived at the schoolyard about ten minutes later.

8 AM

As usual, I fell asleep quickly last night but was awakened annoyingly by roosters well before the sun rose.  After lying in bed for an hour, I grabbed a yogurt that I purchased in bulk from Port-Au-Prince weeks ago.  After taking a shower I stepped outside to enjoy my coffee and the sunrise when I stepped in goat shit.  As if my morning could start any worse, the chickens I had kept had been robbed of their eggs.  Oh well, soon I’ll be presenting my tales of New York to hordes of curious and adoring children at the school after a bumpy ten minute car ride.

1200

We were fortunate enough to have a special presentation at school today.  The man who presented was actually my neighbor, an expatriate from New York City.  He told the children about how his life changed dramatically when he moved from the Haitian countryside to America decades ago.  After living there for years, he claimed he yearned for the simple life back in Haiti.  He showed us pictures of underground trains, of fifty storey buildings, and people beyond people.  We all ate traditional American food he prepared and stored in his home’s refrigerator.   After three minutes and fifteen seconds, the gooey yellow noodles were as hot as though they have been charcoal for hours.  The kids loved them.

12:00 PM

My ten minute drive became an hour experience after my tire blew on the way to the school this morning.  After leaving it with a handy motorcycle riding man, I arrived just in time to begin my presentation and the kids loved every minute.  I utilized the school’s solar generated power to run my laptop and the projector displaying the PowerPoint I made.  Afterwards, I hooked up the microwave to give them a taste of a very un-Haitian food, macaroni and cheese.  After a brief conversation with my friendly neighbor, I realized it was actually a shorter walk than drive to our homes.  I figured I would pick the truck up later, and decided to walk home.

1900

I am going to the community cookout at the pavilion tonight.  I’m so thankful my neighbors appreciate community gathering as it is something I’ve valued since childhood, even during my time at University in Port-au-Prince.  It is my commission to bring the fried plantains and sweet potatoes.  I am quite nervous as it has been mildly rainy throughout the day and I need dry charcoal to prepare them as the generator has been out.  Along with my nerves regarding the vegetables, I’ll have to say I’m anxious to run into Policard Mackenson tonight.  He is new to the neighborhood and I found him quite interesting during his presentation in my class today.

7:00 PM

I can’t help but have a skip in my step as I walk back to the neighborhood from L’ Exode.  Ella Clavessaint’s face is imbedded upon my mind.  With poise, charm, and intelligence, it is her-the Haitian woman-I so desperately missed during my time in the states.  She taught the students with such confidence, it was evident they had deep regard to her.  It looks like I’ll be attending the community cookout tonight after all.

Site Design

    The class held a inner-studio design competition for the overall site plan for the housing project in Fond des Blancs. Three of the teams had very similar concepts and initial ideas for the site plan. The teams combined to form Team C. We collaborated and combined alike concepts and ideas, and discussed issues of contradiction.

    We found ourselves asking the question: How do we introduce american advantages into a haitian culture? Conceptually, we were striving to improve the quality of Haitian life without creating a gap between the Haitian needs in Fond des Blancs and American design. The most effective way that we determined to accomplish our goal was to design in context -not in concept. We analyzed local resources, construction methods, and the culture in Fond des Blancs. Our analysis lead us to a list of  physical "absolutes", "grey areas", and "off limits" design principals. We focused on responding to preexisting site conditions, the interests of Jean and Joy, and bringing quality to our overall design.

    We faced many obstacles attempting to graph ourselves into the culture in order to understand Haitian design. As a team, we recognized that our design is intended to be an alternative to urban living. While our site is located in rural Haiti, we utilized program gradation across the site and strong community emphasis for locating public, semi-private, and private zones. The public area is located adjacent to the road. Traveling into the site, you experience the transitions through building proximity and open space.

    While traveling in Haiti, we observed many variations of organic growth in Haitian dwellings. We documented the tent cities in Port au Prince and the small family homes in the mountains. Our site plan embodied the organic growth, relationships, and proximities of Haitian buildings. As a team, we felt that the design concept and the realities of Haitian design were composed in a simple and orderly final site plan.