The old that is strong does not wither
Do you want to receive email updates whenever there's a new post? Enter your email here!
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
The new normal
Pandemic. Covid 19. Social and/or physical distancing. The stalled economy. I have no new or creative thoughts to share on these topics. That being said, I encourage anyone reading this to look elsewhere for public health guidance. Some reflections from a different zip code and different quadrant of craziness might offer some needed distraction.
At some point along the way, I started to give up on realistic expectations of finding a job I genuinely cared about. That is starting to change. This job and this place are really taking a hold of me.
At some other point along the way, the umpteenth unexpected twist caused me to stop trying to predict what might come next. I intend to keep operating under that plan.
I have now lived in four places. Every new place and new experience, to varying extents, throws a new light on each and every one that came before. As a result, the days consist of new challenges, successes, setbacks, failures, exhausted frustration, exhausted elation, and stunned, appreciative wonder at the fact that all of this is happening. I can say with confidence that I feel good about what I do every day. A more self-evident why animates me and pushes me to surmount the next obstacle. The concerns of today suffice for the moment.
The human race faces a new challenge that appears to have neither a quick, comfortable nor convenient solution. We just cannot seem to whip out a new gadget that alleviates the discomfort. We can measure the gravity of this situation in quantities of lives lost or not lost. Just when people might normally turn to God to save us from a threat we cannot seem to defeat, churches are closed. The problem is pervasive, deadly and complex.
I have no public health advice to offer. I am thankful for my health and for this opportunity to do something equal parts challenging and worthwhile. For today, that is all that I can do.
Friday, February 28, 2020
A new chapter
After a few years away from this blog, I am back.
I spent the past two years in Miami. Having spent most of my life in a fairly small town, I jumped at the chance to spend some time in a big city. In Miami I learned a lot and met some really great people. I will not be writing this chapter of the blog from Florida, though.
I am starting a new, exciting job: Financial Officer for the Episcopal Diocese of South Dakota. For now I will leave it at that because I have a lot to learn and the coming months will present an unknown mix of challenges. That being said, I am deeply thankful for the opportunity to be here in South Dakota.
This chapter of the blog will primarily describe my experiences here in this unique place but will undoubtedly cover other topics as well. Thank you for taking the time to read this. It is a crazy time that we are living in but I truly believe that rational and respectful conversation will create an atmosphere in which healing can take place.
Until next time,
Mitch
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Conclusions
Haiti Fact #16:
The United Nations Stabilization Mission in Haiti (MINUSTAH) will withdraw its
peacekeeping troops in October 2017 after thirteen years in Haiti. The withdrawal comes after a successful
presidential election, demonstrating a departure from the chaotic elections of
2010 and 2015. A smaller peacekeeping
mission will replace MINUSTAH.
I have been
in Haiti for almost a year now. The past
year has changed my life and has changed who I am. First and foremost, this year has blessed me
with experiences that simply are not available to a white kid in
Connecticut. Whatever happens next, I am
thankful for this chance.
Haiti abounds with challenges and
stress, especially because people treat foreigners very differently than they
would treat a local. Not surprisingly, I
saw countless instances of conduct that would just not be acceptable in the
US. But I just had to figure out how to
get over it. If my expectation conflicts
with what is accepted here, it is my problem.
But that line of logic does not help when a random person yells at me
over some perceived offense and then just walks away. Moments like that still make my blood boil,
especially when bystanders do not seem to think that anything out of line has
just happened. For better or worse,
dealing with that type of unnecessary anger and aggression in public shapes a
lot of what I do. For example, people do
not like foreigners to carry cameras or to take their picture. Carrying a camera in public makes me the
target of a lot of hate, so I don’t take pictures. Most of the time it’s like that: not hard to
make the changes, so I just make them.
But some of them have not stopped irritating me.
People in
Haiti treat foreigners differently. The
fact that people do this because I look so obviously foreign can really get
annoying. Driving in Cap-Haitien has
also been a constant source of frustration.
The chaos, heat and traffic of the streets exist in an uneasy calm that
perpetually lies in wait for its chance to erupt into mayhem. I understand some of what causes this but I
still struggle to adapt. However, my
frustrations with the culture here really boil down to a separate issue: people
neither leave me alone nor do they respect what I want. It is just assumed that I want to hear their
advice or criticism and that I will accommodate whatever it is that
they want from me, no matter how demanding it is. In other words, the “right” to say whatever
you want to a random person in public ranks far higher than the “right” to just
exist without getting harassed. Not
surprisingly, this makes one more callous and less friendly in public. After a year of constant unsolicited feedback
from strangers, I look forward to Connecticut where people will just leave me
alone (a manifestation of privilege no longer lost on me). But moving to Haiti for a year
presents challenges and frustrations like these and at some point one just has
to deal with it. And although the
difficulties currently obscure the positives, I know I will miss a lot of
the fun parts of this life once I leave.
Life in
Cap-Haitien involves a lot of walking.
The narrow streets and total lack of parking complicate driving, making
it easier to walk everywhere. I walk to
work, to the market, to restaurants and to go hang out at the square. This has been a blessing that I will not
forget. Secondly, I have some really
good friends here. We have taught each
other little things; for example, we teach one another our languages and our
cooking styles. We of course teach each
other a lot more than that, but it will take time to appreciate what I learned
from Haitians and their culture. So that
will have to wait. Certain situations led me to assume that my presence was not appreciated or desired,
simply based on the amount of disrespect and problems that people gave me on a
regular basis. But even in some of those
situations people are now saying that they will miss me. That indicates that even after all that I
learned, much of the nuance remains unclear.
Fortunately, this year has lessened any shame I feel in losing. So the confusion is alright. I don’t mind it as much now and am a lot
more confident in general.
This job forced me to reestablish
myself outside of the traditional social context that has defined a lot of who
I am. Away from home and in an exhausting
and unforgiving job, I had to figure it all out again. Out of that frustration and difficulty, every
bit of progress made me a little more confident. Those little tastes of progress kept me
going. I believe that I
put as much as I could into this job and I am proud that Eli and I overcame
even a few of the obstacles that we faced.
But now it is almost over: I am leaving Haiti for the US on July 6. The magnitude of the moment is daunting to
the point that I just try to stay busy and focus on the short term. But even with a year’s worth of practice in
letting the future be what it will, I am still struggling to do anything but
think about going home.
A special thank you to these donors:
Geri Lyon
Bob and Barbara Profenno
Brian Hedges and Mark Terreri
Thursday, May 18, 2017
Cange
Haiti Fact #15:
Cap-Haitien has lots of marching bands (ra-ra
in Creole). One will march by once
or twice each month. They like to play “Stand
By Me.”
From April 23-29, Eli and I were in
Cange, a small town in the Central Plateau.
It is the home of Zanmi Lasante/Partners in Health, and plays an
important role in Mountains Beyond
Mountains. We went to Cange as
translators for free clinics that were held in the surrounding villages over
the course of the week. The week I spent
there provided a unique opportunity to break the routine and have an
adventure. It did not disappoint.
We met the group at the airport in
Port-au-Prince and then took a van up into the mountains. The group for which we would translate
included doctors, nurses, and a pharmacist, among others. The week moved quickly: arrive on a Saturday,
plan and prep on Sunday, clinics Monday through Thursday. None of the four villages we went to are
accessible by road, and two are up in the mountains. We even had to cross a lake to get to one of
them. It suffices to say that these
villages have neither easy nor regular access to doctors. That was the objective of the trip: provide
free medical care to those that need it badly but have a hard time accessing
it. All of that being said, Zanmi
Lasante (ZL) does a great job maintaining a network of health staff in remote
villages such as these. ZL health agents
provide medication (especially for blood pressure) to those who need it. The visiting medical professionals from the US came to
support and enhance the services already in place. Basically, a diverse network of people committed
to providing care to this region made all of this possible. By regularly returning to the same region and
maintaining relationships with the people who live there, doctors and nurses
from the US can improve the health of entire communities in the Central
Plateau. Participating in such an
awesome project changed how I see Haiti and the role of foreigners here.
“Baptism by
fire” accurately describes much of the experience I’ve had here, and this trip
was no exception. The days started with
long hot hikes, transitioned into hours of translating for patients before they
went to see the doctor, and then finished with more long hot hikes. And then the following morning we got up early to do it
again. This was the first time I’ve ever
translated at a clinic too. But I
expected to be physically and mentally exhausted. I was not, however, remotely prepared for a
different kind of challenge. Hanging out
with people from the US (other than Eli) for the first time in months left me
confused and kind of freaked out. It
took days for me to feel comfortable interacting with people from the US
again. I even found myself seeking out the Haitians in the group just to recharge. Thinking and feeling that was unsettling. As the week went on we all had fun
together and had great conversations, but
I briefly worried that I had forgotten how to talk to Americans. An
experience like this challenges one in a variety of ways, which made it a
blessing to have such a fun group to share it with.
Haiti
offers exhausting but rewarding opportunities that change a person. Sitting here today, I have no idea what I am
going to do with all the memories, new ideas and random skills that living here
has provided. For the moment I just try
to stay thankful that it all happened. Months ago, I finally read the entire New
Testament. One verse from it stuck out
to me so much that I put it up on my wall.
It goes like this:
We troubled on every side, yet not distressed. We are perplexed, but not in despair. Persecuted, but not forsaken. Cast down, but not destroyed. Always bearing about in the body the dying of
the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body
(2 Corinthians 4: 8-10).
That verse has served as a compass
and an objective to guide what I do here.
It’s an ideal that helps get me back out there to try again the next
day. Cange was a more intense and
concentrated version of the kind of challenges we face here that leave me needing guidance and support like that. But regardless of the stress that came with it,
I am thankful for the chance to get involved and to try to make a difference. I still have some time left here and I want
to keep doing exactly that.
A special thank you to these donors:
Constance Cliffe
Nancy King
Petrone/Whittaker Family
Friday, March 31, 2017
Something Different
Working in Haiti provides opportunities to do things that I would not otherwise do. Writing this blog is one of them; it's fun to tell stories about life here as well as share some of the images and ideas that I encounter. But I want to do something different with this post. This job provides a decent amount of free time, and I have occasionally used it to do some cool and exciting stuff. The additional time to read has opened my life up to several new and intense books, which I have mentioned in earlier entries. But in addition to reading, I have been writing a little bit. So in this entry, I am sharing The Oasis with you. I hope you like it.
The Oasis
The needle had been threatening to
drop below E for a half hour when Jared finally saw The Oasis. He relaxed as the
sight of gas pumps shimmering under the heat banished undesirable outcomes from
his mind. He glanced over at Tina, who
would not have hesitated to make everything his fault in a dilemma. But even she seemed tranquil, so he exhaled again
and pulled into the station. The station
looked about thirty years old, free of trash but devoid of life. Despite the lack of a canopy, Jared eagerly hopped
out into the withering sun to start pumping.
As he approached the handle, a voice stopped him.
“Hold on there, sir, you’re at a The Oasis and we are a full service
station.”
An almost smiling man separated
himself from some statues near the door of the adjacent store and came
over. Dressed in cowboy boots and jeans,
his steady glance seemed to barely regard Jared much before he remarked, “We
don’t see people from the city here often.
You folks lost?”
“No, we’re heading back home the
back way,” said Jared, hoping to avoid the stereotype of the millennial seeking
an authentic experience.
“Well you won’t see much this way,
just oil fields and scrub brush. You
better get some water while you’re here, too.”
Walking a short distance away, Jared took another look at the sign. After wiping the dust from his eyes yet
again, he noticed an interesting message painted just below The Oasis. In faded green cursive letters, it promised
“Free Lunch When You Fill Up.” Tina
probably wasn’t hungry, but when else would they ever try the cuisine of this
dried up county? Reassured that this
whole venture might yet yield a drop of authenticity, Jared approached the pump
and, despite the attendant’s ignoring him, asked, “So is there lunch available
today?”
“Fresh out of lunch, sorry bud.”
“That’s a bummer. But is there any food at all?”
“We have sodas and soft pretzels
for two dollars each. There’s cigarettes
and other snacks too. Go ahead in and
have a look.”
Walking into the store, Jared
passed between two wooden statues: one of growling bear standing on two legs
and the other of an Indian casually looking toward the horizon. The two statues threw a shadow over the attendant’s
chair. Jared emerged with two bottles of
water, disappointed by how boring his idea had turned out. He thanked the attendant and asked his name
to be polite.
“I’m Ray James. Thanks for stopping by The Oasis. Have a safe
trip.”
“I appreciate it. Before I go, is there anything worth seeing
around here?”
“The old Stevens family oil fields
are off to the right a few miles down the road.
They slowed down fifteen years ago and haven’t produced a barrel in
five, but they sure used to be worth seeing.”
“Sounds good, thanks Ray. Take care.”
Back in the car, Tina remained as
unenthused for this stage of Jared’s plan as she had for each previous stage. He offered to get on the highway at the
next opportunity and that at least got a nod of approval. The engine started and Jared’s stomach sank
as the reality of work on Monday mingled with three more hours of flat
interstate. But as he pulled off the
lot, he heard something snap in the engine and the car stopped
accelerating. Tina looked beside herself
as Jared stared perplexed at the dashboard of the stopped car.
“I told you this car wouldn’t make
it all the way. We should have rented a
car,” she snapped, putting in headphones and refusing to say another word. Figuring it would be unwise to point out that
it was lucky to have a breakdown at a gas station, Jared just hopped out again
to ask Ray to help him push it back onto the lot. Once it was safely in a rare shady spot, Tina
turned up her music and checked out. Ray
took a quick look at the car and saw which belt snapped.
“That’ll do it,” he said. “It might be a little while before we can get
one like that in here. I’ll go make a
call though.” Waiting for Ray, Jared
glanced at the statues again. The bear
looked characteristically savage, while the Indian looked dimly aware of the
world’s existence. It looked like he
knew something but that it was too late. Ray came back out with his calm fully restored.
“McIntyre Auto Parts will be out
here in two hours with the belt you need.
They’ll check everything else too.
It’ll be $15 for the belt and $15 for the service.”
“Thank you, that sounds
amazing.” Work on Monday was beginning
to sound increasingly pleasant. Ray grabbed
an extra chair and then sat down.
“So, Ray, do you see a lot of
business out here?”
“Back when those oil fields were
operating you had to get here early just to get gas. The vehicles filling up here in the morning
ran us dry a few days a week. The
Stevens family operated the fields and their kid ran this station. He got kicked out of school so they stuck him
here to grow up a little. They came up
with the free lunch idea to try to get people to wait until the lunch break to
mob this place. But that kid didn’t
care. He resented his parents for
something but really only had one way to get at them. He never ordered enough lunch stuff so after
a few free sandwiches, the counter had to close down. He would stand out there himself to
personally tell the oil workers that there wasn’t any lunch today. I think it was the only part of life he
enjoyed. And he enjoyed it for fifteen
years. It took that long for them to
give up on him.”
Ray fell silent as stronger curses
festered unsaid. Bitterness and dusty
heat flooded Jared’s mind. Ray’s eyes
and lips may have forgotten the feeling of humidity, but Jared’s protested
constantly. Time started to slip
away. The lines on the Indian’s face
deepened as Jared imagined the Indian gazing at the old boss abusing his tiny authority
to irk those around him. The bear,
mad as always, held no specific grudge.
But the Indian had identified the problem. As Jared gazed off into the distance, he was
startled by a door opening.
“Visitors! What can we do for you today?” A man wearing a polo shirt tucked into khakis stood before them. He
went straight to Jared and introduced himself as Ryan Woodley, the
manager. “So you guys had a breakdown,
huh? Well I hear Ray took care of it for
you. Rachel McIntyre is the real deal,
I’ve never had a complaint. She’ll get
you back on the road.” Ryan might have
had something to say about belts, but Jared cut him off.
“So after this oil field dried up,
what happened to this place?”
“Well I wasn’t technically here at
that time, but it certainly had a slowing effect on the local economy. We hadn’t seen a regular tourist presence here
in decades and with the oil workers gone, well, it just all dried up. But here we are today, reinventing ourselves
again!” Seeing a chance to poke at Ryan’s façade, Jared posed another question.
“Did you take over for the previous
owner’s son?”
After a pause, Ryan erupted
again. “Technically, Mr. and Mrs.
Stevens handled the affairs of The Oasis
for a few months after the oil field shut down.
But their son and I were friends back in school, so when they ran into
me at the town parade that year they offered me this position. I had recently left a job and gotten
divorced, so the opportunity was much appreciated. I moved in to help my parents out and then I
got a job right here in town. What a
gift. They’re great people, the Stevens’.”
As Jared nodded, Ryan’s phone went
off. “Oh! That’s Mr. Stevens. I’m going to have to take this.” Ryan walked back into the building,
discussing the latest dilemma facing The
Oasis. Glancing at Ryan’s back as he
disappeared, Ray spat on the pavement.
“That man is either deaf or
stupid,” he snapped. “Anybody with a
round head around here knows that that kid was stealing from the drawer to buy
cocaine for his girlfriend. She got him
kicked out of school in the first place.
But he never got over her. Back when
she had something going for her, she would lead him on for fun. But then her life fell apart and the two of
them collapsed back together. She never
quit the cocaine though, and maybe got him to try it too. When the oil workers stopped coming around to
ask about lunch, he started disappearing for days at a time to go to Vegas with
her. It spiraled from there, until the
fields stopped making money and he was stealing so much out of here that
his parents told him to go to hell and took the place over.” He spat again, adding, “But I’ve been here
for it all. Every damn minute.”
Silence fell again, but not for
long. McIntyre Auto Parts showed up,
opened the hood and had the problem taken care of in twenty minutes. Ryan came back out to see if they needed
anything else, and Ray sat there the whole time doing nothing except quietly
chatting with the mechanic and confirming that their lives remained the same.
The car started up again. Tina had taken a nap and seemed satisfied
with Jared’s desperation to just get back on the highway and get back to work
on Monday. Jared went out one last time
to shake hands with Ray, back on duty in his chair. Next to Ray stood the bear and the
Indian. The bear looked mad as always. But now he saw a trace of a smile on the
Indian’s face.
Monday, March 6, 2017
The eight month mark
Haiti Fact #14: Tropical
fruit is available at very low prices in Haiti.
Visitors should try a variety of fruit, especially mangoes and papayas.
This job lasts a year, which
initially encouraged me to forecast what would change over the various intervals. I started doing this almost immediately after
arriving. Where would I be after four
months? How about after nine? When would I understand the sermon in
church? How about the songs on the radio? All of these questions had and have answers
that change over time as expectations turn into experiences. Not surprisingly, the detailed plans ended up
not working out how I imagined. Reality
swept us up into it and hasn’t let go yet.
It’s as though we’re floating down a river and can’t see anything beyond
the upcoming bend. But that mindset
works pretty well here: specific expectations consistently lead to
disappointment or frustration. Additionally, a lot of good stems from that necessary mindset. Opportunities open up once the urge to have
expectations fades into the background.
I can read books and just let them affect me how they will. I can study French because
it’s fun, even though I don’t know if I’ll ever need it or use it. I can build relationships with people and just enjoy getting to know them.
None of this was impossible before but I love it now that I’m actively doing it. I still have plans and expectations, but
living in the moment and reducing stress has become a higher priority.
The first four months here came
with big doses of stress that took huge quantities of Netflix to mitigate. Life was a roller coaster between soaring highs after successes and crushing lows after embarrassing failures. The second four months started out like a
grainy, out-of-focus picture. As minor
details of daily life began to make sense, I appreciated mundane places and routines on a whole new level. Less obvious small joys unique to this job and situation popped up everywhere. Over the past few months I really got established and comfortable here in Cap-Haitien and as an English teacher. But now
that I’m at the threshold of the final third of this year, I have no idea what
to expect. I want to focus on three
goals: caring about people, giving time and energy to what is important and having faith that God
has my back. To do those things requires
a blend of beliefs and priorities that the past eight months have so gloriously
forced upon me. So I continue to ask for
your prayers and your support as I strive to care, to give, and to trust.
I am so thankful for this job and
its many perks. That being said, home is
on my mind too. The Creole word for to remember is sonje. But mwen sonje peyi m does not mean I remember home. Rather, it is better translated as I miss home. Prior to Haiti I would have doubted that I’d
ever say something like that. But here I
am saying it. So while I look forward to
four more months of dizzying and gut-wrenching (but awesome) experiences, the
memories of home are not likely to fade.
I can say with perfect honesty that I am as excited for the next chapter
of life in Haiti as I am for the return home.
It’s a win-win situation.
A special thank you to these donors:
Mr. and Mrs. David Pittsinger
Karen Honan
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Turbulence
Haiti Fact #13:
From 1915 to 1934, the US occupied Haiti.
Concerns about German aggression during WWI and Haiti’s proximity to the
Panama Canal led to the occupation. The
US also occupied the Dominican Republic and Cuba during the early 20th
century.
The past two months have been
turbulent. Four separate sets of
visitors provided a chance to share our knowledge of Haiti and show off our Creole,
but also left me exhausted. My family got
to see the pros and cons of life in Haiti, reminding me how cool this job is. The abundance of fresh food, beautiful
weather and friendly people genuinely led me to say to my parents that I’m
spoiled here. I realize that someone in
the USA might vehemently disagree, citing the non-potable groundwater or the
intermittent electricity. But I stand by
what I said. It doesn’t take long to
forget about the lack of some amenities considered essential in the USA. Additionally, limited access to the Internet
and smartphones quickly becomes a blessing.
Fewer distractions open up new chances to read and write, and to just
think about everything that is changing. The slower pace and the amount of space to
think make any “concessions” in living standards worth it. Thanks to the abundance of time and lack of
distractions, I have read a lot of books recently.
I started January with Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy
Kidder. That book hits hard. It tells the story of Paul Farmer, whose
dedication and unapologetic commitment to the equality of all people changed
healthcare standards for some of the poorest people in the world, especially in
central Haiti. Mountains Beyond Mountains is a fantastic read. Then I read The Big Truck Went By by Jonathan M. Katz, a book investigating the
shortcomings of aid efforts to Haiti following the earthquake. Learning about the Haiti’s complexities makes
it difficult to form a concrete position on the issues. I feel less confident assessing what Haiti
“needs” with every book I read about it.
After reading even just one chapter, I have needed to go do some
domestic chore to better process what I read. Washing dishes or doing a load of
laundry are time consuming and labor intensive enough to let my mind wander and
hopefully process the most recent challenges to some long-held worldviews. Reading about Haiti leaves me confused, but with a renewed passion to keep trying. So life has been turbulent.
Around New Years my sister came
down to visit. It was great to have her,
especially at the halfway point of my time here. We went to the big tourist spots here: the Citadelle
and the beach. We did more than just
tourist stuff though. I showed her the
market and we went to CASB, my school. I
figured that the poverty and abrasive nature of Haiti would challenge her, just as
they would any first time visitor. But I did not expect
to be shocked by how much I have changed.
Seeing Julia, whom I know better than I know anyone, threw my life now
into stark contrast with what it used to be.
It’s easy to forget that I used to take hot showers and drink tap water
when I’m with Eli because we basically met each other here. Without a reminder of developed world experience,
memory of home fades surprisingly quickly.
But after a few conversations with Julia, everything came rushing
back. It hit me how different everything
is. For one, I am less relaxed now –
not surprising. It’s hard to say anything else definitely
but I feel something. That realization
joins an ever-mounting list that exceeds the time to process it. And once again, I’m thankful for menial
household chores that provide space to try to make sense of everything.
By the time my parents came in late
February, Eli and I had become pros at guiding tours of greater
Cap-Haitien. While sister's visit
plunged me into confusion about how to reconcile life in the US with life in
Haiti, my parents’ visit was seamless and fun.
We did the same activities as with we did with previous visitors,
showing them both the beautiful and the ugly parts of reality here. But my parents are back at home now and there
aren’t any visitors coming for a while. A window of opportunity is open once again. I speak Creole fairly fluently and have
enough free time to invest myself even further into the community here. With the turbulence of the past two months subsiding,
I can recommit to working hard at this job and seeking to connect more with my
friends here. Life is good. As always, thanks for reading.
A special thank you to these donors:
Roy Black
Debra Brown
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)