Walking home from work today, a little frazzled, I let the cool breeze and the 15-minute downhill walk calm me down. I started to turn an observant eye to my surroundings.

It was then that I had the realization that there is no "normal" day for us in Haiti. Even a day that feels just that – perhaps  sitting at our desks for the majority of the day, eating with co-workers at lunch, and returning to our home at the predictable time – is actually chock full of completely new, abnormal experiences.

These experiences, whether or not we take note, seep into our pores and make up the very fabric of our lives, our existences here in Haiti.

On a simple walk to work, for example, almost everything we encounter is not ''normal'' for us: the clothes hanging from the cement walls, on display for shoppers; the little kids in their adorable checkered uniforms, walking to school while holding a parent’s hand, girls with their hair full of ribbons; the sellers who carry three large baskets stacked upon their heads, calling out their wares; the clouds of exhaust that periodically spew from vehicles and the obnoxious honking; the precarious sidewalk arrangements, loose wires hanging down from the power lines and cars, wheelbarrows, large tree roots obstructing pedestrians’ paths; the shoe shiners; the radio programs broadcasting "La Dessalienne," the national anthem, once the clock strikes 8am.

The days are fun when I take time to appreciate all these things that are new and foreign. Yet, when some time passes and I haven't been taking note, I'll start to feel the effects of my foreign environment all the same: 

Perhaps I will start to feel more pressed at work without obvious reason, couped up, anxious, lacking direction, or Ted and I won't be communicating at all ''fluidly'' and I won't understand why... 

It's because nothing here is ''normal''! Our environment speaks to us even when we don't hear it. We are ''fish out of water'' in a sense, and it only helps to recognize this. It allows me personally to reorient myself, to accept that everyday things can be a little disorienting, and to try to walk forward with more appreciation for all that is truly ''new.''

On Manners

Haitians are so formal, ya'll. I love it! This morning, we sat anba tonel - underneath the shaded meeting space -  in our office's backyard. We were meeting with two young pastor/attorneys, who have been working with Ted on the beginnings of a Christian legal association or network in Haiti.

These guys - both named Simeon - are enthusiastic about connecting legal professionals around the pillars of faith and justice. This morning, they held an informational meeting with another attorney, who is Haitian-American and the wife of a pastor here in town. She holds a lot of program planning, evaluating experience as well as a clear passion for Christianity and justice issues.

The meeting starts off so formally, like they often do. Each Simeon presented their name, background, and stated the purpose of the day's meeting.

There is a formality and high value placed on speech and presentation here in Haiti. When people enter a room, they make sure to give a general greeting to all who are present. If it's an individual greeting, they ask after you, and your family. Did you sleep well, did you have a good weekend. Visitors, at a church service or a prayer meeting, are often asked if they'd like to share a word with everyone present. One often prefaces their remarks with a ''Bondye ave nou" (God be with you) and the requisite response is promptly given, "Amen," before the speaker continues.

Haitians love to give speeches, and they are darn good at it.

In addition, people here are sharp dressers. The photo above serves as Exhibit A. You can bet Ted and I never look as snazzy as those with whom we are meeting. Shoe shiners dot the sidewalk between the office and our house. Kindergartners, college students, businessmen - they are all stopping to get their regular shoe shine for less than 50 cents a pop. 

Why do I appreciate this attention to appearance and to manner that I see exhibited in the Haitians I meet? I feel that it has something to do with the honor and respect that these mannerisms demonstrate - a respect for the given day, for the business, meeting, or task at hand; it connects somehow with the reverence Haitians have for the present moment.

Experiences that Shape Us

During our first 9 months with MCC in Haiti, there have been a couple instances where I have thought to myself,

"Wow, this is one of the hardest things I've ever done,"

and at the same time,

"This is one of the most fun, rewarding experiences I've ever had!"

Both of the times I have felt these things, concurrently, and most strongly, were during work trips to Washington DC.

And, I see that I haven't blogged about either of them! I believe this goes to show how these times were so impactful, and therefore difficult to put into words.

Last November, Ted and I worked with MCC and CWS staff in Haiti and Washington DC to pull off a 3-day advocacy event in DC, which included a full-day Housing Conference featuring panelists from 6 Haitian civil society and other organizations. Each person brought their own niche of expertise to the conference - two of them had never traveled outside of Haiti and the Dominican Republic - and a few were well-seasoned travelers, bringing decades of academic or political experience to bear on their presentations.

The majority of our delegation.

The conference was a success. We had great participation, and good follow-up meetings with the State Department, a congressional representative's office, and the National Security Council, as well as with other NGOs. Working as a team, across physical, cultural, and even some ideological divides was invigorating and even a bit other-worldly at times. (Lack of sleep and running on lots of adrenaline added to this effect too I'm sure.)

The three-day event was also intended as an opportunity for civil society leaders in Haiti to sit down next to representatives of Haiti's governing housing unit, to exchange perspectives and ideas for solutions to Haiti's longstanding housing crisis. This was a unique, and charged, aspect of our advocacy work over these few days. It's very rare for government and civil society in Haiti to sit down together where the gap between the authorities and the general population is wide.

We felt there were significant breakthroughs as a result of these efforts. Maybe not breakthroughs for all of Haiti, but some personally and professionally for our delegation. And it was certainly an initiation (i.e. trial by fire) for us as newbies with MCC Haiti. The journalist on our delegation was able to mend a relationship with the government official who participated - a relationship that had turned soured over the last couple years without our journalist friend understanding the reason why. (It turns out he had quoted the official in an article when the official understood the conversation to be ''off the record.'')

The same government official surprised us by ''crashing'' our post-conference advocacy meetings with the State Department and National Security Council. (They were invited to the conference, but not these meetings, in which we planned to share about human rights abuses in Haiti, that often reveal the complicity of Haitian authorities!) It was awkward, to say the least.

Yet, a human rights attorney on our delegation shared afterwards that he ''never thought [he] could sit side-by-side in a meeting with someone who speaks a different language than [him].'' By this he meant the different philosophy and ideology those in power seem to have towards the poor majority in Haiti. Yet, through these awkward exchanges the attorney started to see how human rights defenders can - and must - look for and take advantage of opportunities to be in meaningful dialogue with those in power. It is better to engage than to disengage, when possible.

Four members of our delegation: the pensive professor in the back (right), an attorney,
community organizer and pastor involved in community-based housing projects.
(Photo credit: Milo Milfort)

There was also a lot of laughter over our week together. 

Ted and I traveled from Haiti with four members of our delegation. (As a caveat, a fifth, prominent member of our delegation never got on the plane, causing some additional panic on our end.) We offered what translation we could after four months in Haiti. Some of the more hilarious exchanges had to do with ordering fast food at restaurants for a big group, attempting to explain all the sandwich options at Subway and the fact that you can order chicken without bones at Bojangles. One member of our delegation exclaimed, ''Chicken without bones?!'' at the most appropriate and hilarious moment. Another team member - a first-time traveler - asked me twice, "I can really mix the drinks at the soda fountain?" Yes, I know. Our country is pretty ridiculous isn't it. One long day ended in a spontaneous dance party at Busboys and Poets after a less-than satisfying turnout for our film screening.

Throughout this whole trip, I felt that we were truly running in the spirit of ''degaje,'' which is the Haitian Kreyòl equivalent of ''to make do,'' but I feel like it expresses something more. There is a hint of our English language proverb in there, ''when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.'' That night at Busboys and Poets was definitely a lemonade night.

In the coordination - of programming, and logistics - and the flurry of languages as well as the exhaustion of travel, long days, and switching between life in Haiti and the U.S. capital - I felt pressed in a way I haven't before, pressed to the point that I could hardly believe ''we are actually doing this!''

The entire trip was a delight, extremely challenging, rewarding, tiring - all at the same time. An experience we will truly never forget.

(Photo credit: Milo Milfort)

And what about our second experience in D.C., you ask? This was just last week. Stay tuned...!

Home

It's about time we shared some photos of our home here in Haiti. I had said earlier that it was my goal to share some posts this week that give you a more concrete picture of our day-to-day life. 

I admit that only a couple of the photos below give you a sense of the real layout of our space (sorry about that), but I hope the flourishes captured here, from both inside our home and the yard, help you see and appreciate what we also love about this space - the light, the color, the solace we can experience in this little corner of ours in Haiti.

More Haitian artwork, from the "iron village" just outside of Port-au-Prince

Fond memories of last year's trip to the UK.

Art!

While on the subject of Art, I wanted to share with you some beautiful papier mâché pieces that we bought while in the seaside town of Jacmel. Jacmel is known for its art, including especially its papier mâché. I fell in love with these bright, stunning colors!

If you see items you like, whether here or in the Apparent Project store, I want you to know that Ted and I will happily carry some crafts with us on our next visits to the U.S. This would be East Coast in late July/early August, and even a short trip in mid-late April. We'd be happy to ship items to wherever you are.

So let us know if, over the years, anything we share catches your eye. Of course, there are so many beautiful styles of Haitian handicrafts and artwork. Perhaps Ted and I will need to come home with a ''sampling'' sometime for friends to peruse and shop!

Where do we go... for a little respite?

Well, you might not guess that through a maze of dusty streets, just about a 5 minute drive from our place, there is a little hideout and beautiful boutique called the Apparent Project, home also to delicious smoothies and iced latte drinks at the Clay Cafe (double back flip, whoop!)

I realized yesterday, as I made a much celebrated drive to the Apparent Project for a nice cold beverage, that in our slew of posts since moving to Haiti we have not shared much that is tangible about our life here; there has not been much for you to hold on to in the way of images or vignettes about our daily living; our neighborhood, work space, home. It is my goal this week to write a few posts sharing such things with you.

First stop, our neighborhood treat that is a must-see for visitors - the Apparent Project - with some visual aids provided by my Windows phone.

Down a main road near our house, we veer to the right towards our destination. The streets on a Saturday are mercifully not very crowded....

Mounds of shifting gravel - each week in a slightly different formation - create obstacle courses along the way, as the roads get ever closer to actually being paved.

Our destination is tucked into this quiet neighborhood. (Don't worry, I was at a full stop while snapping most of these photos.)

Finally, at an unassuming barrier like the ones you see above, you rap at the gate and descend into this:

The Apparent Project is a non-profit shop, a Christian ministry that was started to train and provide jobs, mostly for vulnerable women. Tours are available all day long, and they keep trusty opening hours; 9-4, Mon-Sat.

Though these handicrafts are not cheap, every dollar of profit goes to support the livelihoods of the artists themselves. Filled with beautiful jewelry, linens, and pottery you can see how this spot is a treat for the eyes, and a pleasure to peruse.

Haiti's famous metal ironwork craft is presented here in lovely Scripture passages and floral designs.

The Clay Cafe, situated near the back of the Apparent Project, offers a little book nook for sitting and reading!

This is the Apparent Project. There are many rooms, not pictured above. It's a neighborhood gem, and has provided us with many a fun outing.

The World Bank declines to hear Haitians' complaint over troubling mining practices

This week the World Bank Inspection Panel announced that it would not hear a complaint filed by six Haitian civil society organizations who are concerned about plans for mining in at least five of Haiti's central and northern departments.

The World Bank, since 2013, has been involved in helping the Haitian Government rewrite a 1976 mining law that would, in effect, make mining a more attractive investment for the American and Canadian companies that have been exploring Haiti's soil for the past several years.

View of landscape in Haiti's northeastern department. (Photo credit: Ted Oswald)

The Haitian Government has been divided over plans for mining activity. In early 2013, after hearing that 15% of Haitian land was already under contract with foreign mining companies without their proper approval, the Haitian parliament placed a moratorium on all mining.

[Read: Haitian Groups Wary of “Attractive” Mining Law]

It was at this time the executive recommended revamping the old law with the help of the World Bank, in order to help prospects for mining to move forward. Indeed, the current administration is looking to mining as one of the essential industries in helping Haiti "build back better."

Sampling over the past five years have revealed that Haiti has gold worth up to $20 billion, which doesn't include other valuable minerals such as copper and silver.

Yet local communities and the six civil society groups that make up the Justice in Mining Collective (Koleftif Jistis Min) are concerned about the new law and the way they see things proceeding.

Thus far, the new law has been drafted in consultation with mining experts, World Bank staff, and the Haitian government. Civil society has been notably absent, or rather, uninvited to the decision-making table. On one occasion, a few members of civil society were invited to a mining forum at one of Port-au-Prince’s fanciest hotels, but were not afforded an opportunity to speak.

It is feared that, in Haiti’s current political crisis where President Martelly is ruling “by decree,” the draft mining law could be passed by executive order, without even parliamentary approval.

 Patrico in Haiti's northern department. Many communities have reported mining companies coming
uninvited onto their land to dig for soil samples over the past several years. In most cases the communities
don't clearly understand what it is the companies are doing there. (Photo credit: Ted Oswald)

[Read: As Haiti's Parliament Dissolves, Oversight in Billions in Gold Mining Could Be Axed]

In January, the Justice in Mining Collective, with the help of the Accountability Counsel and NYU Global Justice Clinic filed a complaint to the Inspections Panel of the World Bank, over the high risk of environmental and social impacts of mining as well as the lack of information and participation available to communities over mining plans.

One particularly troubling clause in the new draft law allows for a ten-year confidentiality period for all documents pertaining to ongoing mining in Haiti.

Despite these concerns, which could affect tens of thousands of individuals in Haiti’s northern departments, the World Bank denied hearing the complaint filed by the Justice in Mining Collective on technical grounds.

[Read Press Release: World Bank Refuses to Consider Haitian Communities' Complaint about New Mining Law]

The Pueblo Viejo gold mine in neighboring Dominican Republic is one of the ten largest in the world
and is an example of open pit mining. It is part of the same Massif du Nord Metallogenic Belt as Haiti.
(Photo credit: Pulitzer Center)

According to the Panel, the transparency and public involvement typically required of World Bank-sponsored projects does not apply to projects funded by the “Bank-Executed Trust Fund,” such as the rewriting of Haiti's mining law, though the Panel admits that it ought to and recommends that reform take place in the World Bank system.

The Panel also conceded that there are significant risks associated with mining, and acknowledged the legitimacy of the Collective’s concerns.

Though the Bank is a key actor in the rewriting of the law and regularly touts the importance of public involvement and local participation, it is acting in this case as yet another exclusionary force that bars Haitian voices in matters that concern their own livelihoods. The Bank must realize that in Haiti's current context, where the government is generally closed off to local opinion, local populations have no audience with decision-makers.

As international backers of the new mining law and investors in the industry, the World Bank must heed Haitians' concerns over mining.