Tim and I both enjoy Haitian proverbs and this one, don’t buy a cat in a bag, which we heard this morning, made us laugh. It basically means don’t agree to anything before first knowing or seeing what you are getting. Ah, what truth there is to this, especially here in Haiti.
Take for example the stove we recently bought, which arrived from Port-au-Prince, the capital city, on Thursday. A trusted friend helped us make the purchase so we weren’t worried about what we were to receive, but after a month of waiting for it, were slightly disappointed when we finally laid eyes on it. It’s a bit flimsy, has a slight tilt to it, and is connected to the gas tank with a larger-than-it-should-be clear hose, which is obviously not a gas hose. When we showed the contraption to our good Haitian friend & neighbor this morning his first comment was, “I can see that a Haitian put this together.”
When looking at the glass half full, you can say it’s remarkable that Haitians can rig almost anything – a broken down vehicle, a bent bed frame, an iron whose cord has been burnt when someone wrapped it around the iron while it was still hot (just to name a few that we’ve already experienced). When we think something is useless or broken, we’ve learned that it really isn’t and have watched in amazement as they “fix” it with whatever materials they find laying around.
When looking at the glass half empty, you can say that over 75% of the stuff they rig isn’t safe at all. We share the iron, whose cord has been burnt and split, with our Haitian friend and haven’t used it for weeks. Who knows when it’s finally going to shock someone.
So, to reassure all you worried readers (especially our parents) who fear for our safety, we try to avoid rigged Haitian appliances, but solely take part as spectators for the hours of entertainment it can provide. We are going to buy another iron and will have the gas tank refitted with the proper hose.
Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere.
Unemployment is reported at around 70%.
Three-quarters of the population survive on less than $2 U.S. a day.
Life expectancy is 53 years of age.
Half the population lives below the minimum level of dietary energy consumption.
5% of the population has HIV or Aids.
Source: International Monetary Fund
When I use to read these statistics I’d give each one about 10 seconds of thought before moving on to the next devastating, but equally incomprehensible statement. After living in Haiti for 3 months these once empty calculations invoke this sinking sorrow deep within me as they no longer represent statistics, but neighbors and friends.
Take for example my neighbors, the Jowanes family, who by my calculations live on about 6 U.S. dollars a week, all coming from the sells of akansann – a corn derivative that is eaten with sugar or blended with milk to make a thick, filling drink. One day I spent the afternoon with Madam Jowanes while she was making akansann and I realized how much misery she passes for just a few dollars. Early in the morning she treks down the mountain and then back up to fetch a huge bundle of plantain leaves which she will later cook and finally use as packaging to hold the akansann – I have to say, a very environmentally friendly, cost free solution to plastic!
After the plantain leaves are cooked, she sets them aside and places water and cinnamon in the biggest cooking pot I have ever seen. (Tim likes to joke that you could bath inside.) When the water has boiled, she places a mixture of water and finely ground corn flour into the pot, which was ground by hand by her husband the night before. This huge mixture boils for about an hour and when it’s cooked she begins the tedious 4 to 5 hour task of wrapping tiny portions of akansann with cooked plantain leaves that she will sell the following day. By the time she is finished, the sun has set, her kids are hungry, and she is exhausted from a long days work.
She will rise early the next morning, descend the mountain, and wait for an over crowded pick up truck, filled with other merchants like herself, to take her to the city of Jacmel. After spending the whole day walking the hot dusty streets with a load of akansann perched on her head, searching for buyers who will take 3 small pouches for 1 Haitian dollar, she heads back home with 40 Haitian dollars (about $5 U.S.). When supplies and transportation are subtracted out she has made just 16 Haitian dollars or $2 U.S.
If not sick herself, or taking care of one of her five kids who have come down with “the fever”, the generalized statement most everyone makes when someone is sick, Madam Jowanes will make akansann every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and sell in the city every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Sundays are reserved for church and washing, the grueling struggle to survive rarely provides times to rest.
Madam Jowanes expressed to me that she would like to do something else, perhaps buy rice, beans, or pepe (used clothing from the United States) in bulk and resell it in the market, but does not have the cash to invest into the initial purchase. All of the money she makes is immediately spent on food, school for the kids, or the occasional medication for their youngest daughter who has had medical problems since birth and is extremely malnourished. She is over one year old and has yet to take her first step.
The Jowanes family is just one of my many new friends that have helped me better understand poverty statistics. Now when I read that unemployment is at 70%, I think of a friend’s brother who yesterday asked Tim if he had any work as a chauffeur because he hates just sitting around. When I hear that life expectancy is 53 years of age, I think about one of my host sisters who at the age of 25 lost her first husband. When someone says that half the population lives below the minimum level of dietary consumption I think of the little neighbor kids, with discolored hair, who could pass for half their age.
As I put names and faces to such an inhumane life my heart is breaking and though it is an extremely uncomfortable process I am thankful that statistics such as those listed above on Haiti invoke thoughts of friends, people just like you and me, who’s only hope is for the pains of hunger to be satisfied, education for their children, health care, jobs – the ability to simply live.
