Let's be revolutionaries

Read today - a letter from Che Guevara to his children:

Dear Hildita, Aleidita, Camilo, Celia, And Ernesto,

If you ever have to read this letter, it will be because I am no longer with you. You practically will not remember me, and the smaller ones will not remember me at all.
 
Your father has been a man who acted on his beliefs and has certainly been loyal to his convictions.

Grow up as good revolutionaries. Study hard so that you can master technology, which allows us to master nature. Remember that the revolution is what is important, and each one of us, alone is worth nothing.

Above all, always be capable of feeling deeply any injustice committed against anyone, anywhere in the world. This is the most beautiful quality in a revolutionary.

Until forever, my children. I still hope to see you.

A great big kiss and a big hug from, Papa

***

Let's be revolutionaries, can we?  

It doesn't mean we have to start coup d'etats or take over as dictators.  

But by being revolutionary, we will never stop learning, never stop growing, always be committed to trying to understand what is happening in the world we live and work in, but more than learning, growing and understanding, we must take action - be action people, committed to put forth every effort to change what needs to be changed.  

There is no complacency in the life of a revolutionary, rather there is the knowledge that the road to change is hard, that change is not always possible, that change will be difficult, will take time and one step forward may often be accompanied by two steps backward. But in order to actually achieve change, to revolt against the injustices in the world, we must at least try.

And we must never give up.  

We must stay loyal to our convictions. It is only then, that we may see real change happen. Change taking place from the involvement of our hands. Our hands joined together with those committed to the same cause.  

So, let's be revolutionaries. Yes, I like that idea.

Motorcycle Diaries

Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me

The past 3 weeks or so have been a roller coaster, to say the least. As I commented here, before Isaac came, I was exhausted. There had been a lot happening in life, I was getting tired, emotional, and was quite close to burnout, I expect. But Isaac rejuvenated me enough to get me here to today. 

And today, I am exhausted again. Impatient, short with people, curt, and just need to sleep. 

But you look at my past 3 weeks, though, you would understand. 

3 weeks ago, we had our security measures increased dramatically due to an increase in international female kidnappings. Now, our curfew is at 10:30pm, we have drivers all the time, cannot walk by ourselves anywhere, and have to text and discuss our movements down to the nth degree. When I am in Leogane, where I don't really know anyone, after the office closes, my only option is to stay in the house. Seemingly under house arrest. Oh, and this is only for women...and ANYONE who knows me would know how I feel about that.

Oh, and around that time, a great majority of our management staff were out of the country, which means there was an increased workload on us all around. 

2 weeks ago, we had a tropical storm hit Haiti, during which I was stuck in the house in Leogane. The storm caused damage in our operational areas, which means that I was out on the field doing assessments and planning a response. 

1 week ago, I initiated a more in-depth assessment, while also trying to finalise evaluations, donor reporting, finishing up reports that others never finished, manage consultants, and work with the rest of my colleagues to make the right decisions around our response. While it was great and exciting, it was exhausting. By Sunday, I was beat and needed a day at the beach to recover. 

And then this weekend happened. I had left most of my stuff in Leogane, because I knew I was going to be back there, come Monday, for the week. And I knew I would not need much over the weekend. So, hey, why not make life easier and only bring the essential items back with me (thankfully,  my passport and ipod were on that list)? 

And then the house was broken into on Friday night, any room which was open (mine included) was gone through and things were taken. Including my bag of clothes. With probably about 3/4 of the clothes I wear regularly here, underwear included. I didn't know about this until this morning, when I got to Leogane, walked into my room and the bag was gone. No hope of finding anything. Well, my trainers were recovered in the banana plantation out back. Woo. Thanks, thieves. 

So, I am back to being exhausted, frustrated yet slightly emotionless. I am ready for a break. Haiti can get to you, sometimes - as I wrote here - it can provide you with some interesting adventures. My friend today told me, well, at least you have a story... 

Yes. Haiti has provided me with stories. More stories than I could probably ever share. 

But they are not always the best stories. They are stories that are tiring, frustrating, where you just want to escape. 

Am I a fool for staying? Or maybe I just need an escape for a short while.

Another day older, another year wiser

Image by me (St. Martin!). Quote by... someone?

Tomorrow, I turn another year older. Another year has past and in many ways, I cannot believe it. In other ways, I am so glad that it has. 

One year ago, I was reeling from being out of Haiti when I didn't want to be; I was in the throws of personal, professional and family issues and I just needed to escape and recuperate. One year ago, I ran to visit my best friend in Central California for a few days and stayed a few weeks. One year ago, life was difficult and in the deepest of the deep, I wondered whether I would ever recover. 

The only constant in life is that we are always learning, growing and changing, as the best philosophers say. One year ago, if you would have asked me what I learned during my first stint in Haiti, I would have bitterly responded that I learned to not trust people and I learned how I react when under extreme amounts of stress and that was about it. 

One year ago, I was angry, bitter, upset, a little depressed, confused, hurt, alone, emotional and just really, really struggling. 

Oh, how things change in a year. 

I describe 2011 as the most challenging year I have ever had (those who have read other parts of my blog will have noticed). But best part of the challenge was learning to not just sit and wallow in all those emotions. Instead, I felt them, and felt them fully! I gave each part the time it needed to work its way through my body, my mind and my heart. I went on lots of walks where I yelled at God; I shut myself in my room; I went on road trips where I could be alone; I took menial jobs just to keep my self and my mind busy; I went to the gym and learned what exercise does for my brain and my emotional state. But most of all learned how to work through the whole process, learned to recover, and, eventually, I sorted myself back to normal (well, mostly...). 

I learned that life is full of its ups and downs - you can't always control it. And in those moments you feel out of control, its ok! God gave us a vast scale of emotions, to feel them; they are there and they are valid and feel them, you should! So if you are grumpy, it's ok! If you are lonely, that's ok; if you are sad, that's ok; if you are anti-social, that's ok; iIf you are happy and bouncy, that's ok too! 

Life is too short to hold onto the past, to hold grudges to hold onto anger. Yes, feel your anger, but then let it go! Let it fly away with the wind! Only then will you realise, as I did, that letting go and letting yourself feel is the real path to freedom. 

One year later, I am entering my 29th year, living in Haiti, working in a job that I love (that challenges me everyday), adventuring regularly, loving great friends, making new ones, living with joy, with freedom and with spirit. 

As my tattoo says, "to everything, there is a season." My 28th year was a season. It was many seasons. But at this season, I am happy in the struggles, learnings, laughter, dances, late nights, stresses, hopes and dreams that my 29th year promises to bring. 

6 months...

I just returned from the supermarket, doing our weekly shop with my housemate. We unexpectedly ran into 4 people we / I know. Apparently, the supermarket is a cool place to be.

A few months ago, flying out of Haiti, I randomly ran into 3 colleagues who were flying out at the same time (not same flight though). Apparently, the airport is a cool place to be. 

Last night, I stayed in, but I found out that two sets of friends, who, as far as I know, don't know each other were doing the same 'going out' route. Apparently, all the cool people do the same thing on a Friday night. (And the boring ones stay home. boring = me.)

***

I have heard it said that it takes 6 months of living in a new place for one to really feel settled. As in, for one to feel like they have developed a routine, relationships, habits, and a comfortability with life.

A few weeks ago passed my 6 month mark with my current organisation (which means I have in fact lived in Haiti for over a year) and I am noticing that this fact is true. Six months in, Haiti is my home and I love it in all its craziness and in all its social stability. 

But this also means I have 6 months left. I know I won't stay past my contract (don't worry, I know I won't leave early either!), and I am excited to start considering what is next. 

As much as I love my life here 6 months on, when you start looking at it from the 6 months left side, it starts to get difficult. 

Meeting new people is hard with the knowledge that you will have to leave soon.  

Making quality friendships is hard because you may never see people again. 

The work here never seems to lessen, only to get bigger and more intense. There has never been a day when my to do list has been completed. As Haiti moves from emergency response to development, the process needs to be integrated and it is hard having development professionals come into a post-emergency response, where there might be issues with systems set up, lack of institutional knowledge, or a whole range of things. Anyway, that is off the point and food for another post. In other words - there is still a lot to do. 

***

My first 6 months here were the most difficult time I have experienced. 

These past 6 months have been a challenge and a joy.

The next 6 months - who knows what they will bring. 

But for now, I know I am in the right place.  

Alumnus

In the past month since I posted last, I have been working lots, travelling lots and have lots of blog posts started but not published. Need to get back onto them. In the meantime, I was asked by my MA university to write an article about my work in Haiti for the inaugural edition of their Alumni newsletter. What an honour! So for those who are interested, I publish it again below!

Link to the whole newsletter here. 

The day in January 2010 when the 7.0 earthquake struck Haiti will go down in history as one of the most catastrophic days in modern Haitian times. Over 200,000 people were killed, 2 million more displaced, and countless others affected.

I remember that day vividly. It was a Tuesday, and I had just returned home from the Senate house library where I was preparing for our lecture and seminar in Securing Human Rights the next day. I turned on my computer to relax a little before bed, and opened up the BBC news website. As the site loaded a breaking news headline popped up: “Haiti devastated by massive earthquake.” As soon as I saw that, my heart jumped and I knew. This was the last thing Haiti needed.

Prior to the earthquake, Haiti’s history is filled with coup d’états, hurricanes, dictators, occupations, and a constant stream of human rights violations. As the well-advertised statistic says, Haiti is the poorest nation in the Western hemisphere with over two-thirds of its population living on less than $2 per day. An earthquake of this scale, with the epicentre located only 25km away from its populous capital city, Port-au-Prince, had just set Haiti even further back on the development ladder.

As an American attempting to learn French, not Spanish, I had always had a particular interest in the nation, being one of the largest French-speaking nations in the Western hemisphere. With previous work experience working in the relief department of a large NGO, when the earthquake struck, I wanted to go. I read everything I could about the response; I blogged on the topic; I even communicated to my previous manager about what the chances were of me going. But as it was the middle of the year for the MA in Understanding and Securing Human Rights, I knew it was not the right time. Yet.  

I first arrived in Haiti on 10 December 2010, only a week after walking across the stage to receive my MA in Human Rights degree. At the time, Haiti was approaching the one year anniversary of the earthquake, a massive cholera epidemic had struck the country, the election process was in a stalemate marred by fraud and violence, and two of Haiti’s ex-presidents in exile had just returned to the country, which spurred questions on their return and what it would mean to the country. To put it succinctly, it was a mess. In the almost two-and-a-half years since the earthquake though, it is evident that the country has taken quite a few steps forward to “build back better,” now having a somewhat functioning government, IDP camps disappearing, a cholera epidemic that exists but is more manageable, and NGOs returning to long-term development projects. Complete recovery and stability, however, still yet remain elusive; the situation here can change overnight.  

I have lived in Haiti off-and-on since graduation, working mostly with a few humanitarian organisations with donors and reporting, and implementing assessments, and project monitoring and evaluation. While none of these positions have worked directly in the human rights field, the knowledge and skills I gained of human rights through the MA course has been very influential in the roles, as I am working to develop proposals, write reports, conduct assessments, and engage with donors, beneficiaries, and the UN and other NGOs here.

Working out in the field undeniably gives an interesting insight to the field of human rights and the work of NGOs. It is definitely difficult work! I appreciate how much the international community attempts to integrate human rights principles into the development of their projects and their organisational strategies, particularly the principles of impartiality, participation, accountability and advocacy. But just because we attempt it, doesn’t mean it’s easy, especially in an emergency response. Participation and advocacy take a long time, and it is hard to encourage duty-bearers to take responsibility if the government is non-functional! However, I have seen first hand how essential these principles are to respect and dignify the communities we are working with. For example, communities love being able to contribute to the design of their own shelters; the sense of pride is astounding when meeting with small business owners who have been able to bring their businesses back to life through partnering with our organisation!

However, the realities of the field, the realities of living in a developing country do bring to light how much further we have to go. How can we assure the effective implementation of a rights-based approach in an emergency response that needs to be implemented quickly? How do we hold a government accountable to their human rights obligations if it can barely function on its own? How can one change a societal perspective of power that leads to feelings of entitlement and selfishness?

Being field-based, I get to see the fruition of the work that we are doing, the projects we are designing and implementing, the impact we are making to the lives of those who are vulnerable and it is the best part of being out here. But I also see how much further we have to go. The work of human rights is a long, difficult, complicated process and I can only be thankful for the role I am allowed to play to uphold these important principles and the contribution I can make to give others the opportunity to live a life that is “free and equal in dignity and rights,” as the UDHR says. I know I will keep working and striving to reach this difficult and lofty goal.

Human Rights in Haiti Resources:

·          Haiti’s Human Rights international treaty adherence: http://www.adh-geneva.ch/RULAC/international_treaties.php?id_state=84

·          International Disaster Response Law in Haiti, IFRC: www.ifrc.org/PageFiles/87274/MAA0000410ar.pdf

·          Measuring the way forward in Haiti: Grounding disaster relief in the legal framework of human rights, Amanda M. Klasing, P. Scott Moses, and Margaret L. Satterthwaite:

·          http://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/Full_report_158.pdf

·          Indicators in Crisis: Rights-based Humanitarian Indicators in Post-Earthquake Haiti, Margaret L. Satterthwaite, http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1833530

Dear Mr. Cameron, I must regretfully inform you

Found here.
And let me tell you he makes some awesome faces. 

Dear Mr. David Cameron,

I normally do not do things like this. I normally have my opinions about another country's politics, but I usually keep them to myself, or for a good debate at the pub. I mean, America has got enough to worry about that I might actually be able to influence, right? (I am sure you would agree). 

But I felt this passionately and regretful about this, that I must write you this letter. 

You see, Mr. Cameron, sir - your government's policies on migration suck.

Now, one might think that I am writing you to complain about your treatment of refugees, or even worse, your treatment of asylum-seekers; how you detain individuals who are claiming asylum treating them just as bad, if not worse than a criminal, guilty as charged. You might think I am writing to request the Home Office to reinstate its funding to essential refugee and asylum-seeker organisations, like the excellent Refugee Council, who are having to stop essential programming because you are cutting the budget. 

While I feel passionate about this topic (and trust me, I do), this is not the subject of my letter today. 

I will first start with a story. A story of regret. You see, in 2009, I moved from the US, a country that if I have anything to do with it, will never be my home again, to the UK to study. I came to complete a Master's degree at one of your well-known universities, and boy was I excited about it! And getting a UK visa to study there - easy as pie! All I had to do was prove I was accepted at the university and that I could pay for it. Yep! Easy. 

While I was there, I got to experience the weird and wonderful world of UK politics, watching you get elected and form a crazy coalition government with your liberal-democrat colleague, Mr. Clegg. 

Upon graduation, I had spent all the money I had arrived with (as one does), and was headed off to Haiti to live and work and try and put my education into practice. At the time, I considered applying for the visa that I was eligible for - the Post-Study Work Visa, but unfortunately, you had recently put stronger restrictions on it, and I could not afford it at the time. "No worries!" I thought! I will apply at a later date, when I could prove I had the funds in the bank for it. I mean it would have been nice to have that option of moving back to a place that became my home, right?

Well, life happened. I was in Haiti for 6 months, and then was unemployed for 5 months. And I mean, when you are unemployed, you kinda need all the money you have. Its not like the US government wanted to support me anymore, after I had been living out of the country for so many years. 

I could not afford the visa, and the timeframe for my eligibility relapsed and all of a sudden I was stuck. 

I am stuck. 

Mr. Cameron, since you have come into government, you have put all these restrictions on immigration, and now it is virtually impossible for me to ever move back to the UK. 

Let's look at the different options the UK has for visas:

We will start at the bottom:  - UK ancestry
Yes, Mr. Cameron, I have UK ancestry. My last name is Huddleston, for crying out loud. How more English can you get!?! The problem - my ancestors emigrated over 400 years ago, not 2 generations ago. Oh, and the US is not a part of the commonwealth. 

- Tier 4: A student visa
Well, I could actually try to get this again. Obviously, it would require me to go back to school in the UK. But, wait! You have restricted the number of visas that you will allow, so one doesn't even need to just be accepted and able to pay anymore! 

And even so, what's the point? I would not be able to stay after - you are no longer accepting applications for the Post-Study Work Visa(ok, that one is Tier 1)! What, you don't want to keep the people your country educated there anymore?

 - Tier 3: Temporary visa
Ok, I could possibly apply for a temporary visa as a charity worker. But that would mean I would not be able to be paid. Ummm. How would I live? Plus, I have student loans from this amazing education your country gave me that need to be paid!

And with the others - yet again - not a part of the Commonwealth, a diplomat, an athlete, or creative enough to get paid for it. 

 - Tier 2: Sponsored visa (aka Skilled workers)
Hey, here is another opportunity, right? I mean, all I have to do is get a company to hire me, right? WRONG! Sponsored visas are expensive for both the employer and employee and plus, the organisation must prove that the non-EU citizen has some sort of skillset or experience that is necessary to that particular role that cannot be found anywhere else in the entire European Union! Uh. Thanks. 

Ok ok, there is still a small chance here - but come on. It's difficult and slim. 

 And lastly - 
 - Tier 1: Highly Skilled (also called High-Value)
So, I was educated by the UK (with a Masters degree no less), the work I do usually requires someone with a certain level of education, experience, skillsets, and technical knowledge. One would likely describe me as someone who is highly-skilled. Except the UK government. Because according to the UK government, in order to be considered highly-skilled, one must: - earn over £150,000 and want to invest it in the UK, - be an entrepreneur and have enough money to open and manage a business, or - be a leader in sciences or arts. Pretty much, you have to have a lot of money. Which I don't have (charity worker with student loans here). 

Now, Mr. Cameron, I understand that you want to keep British jobs for the British. But I hope you see my problem here. I have invested time and money in your country, have been educated by it, and consider it more my home than where I was raised. But you won't let me come and live there! 

So, Mr. Cameron, I must regretfully inform you: Your immigration policies SUCK!

I only hope that the next government (Mr. Milliband?) will have an opinion different to yours, because I am assuming that the next 3 years will only have more restrictions. 

Yours respectfully,
Angela

To settle? Or not to settle? That is the question.

When I was 20, I went through a bit of a...redefinition of who I was, is probably the best way to say it. I was in a relationship with my first serious boyfriend, and it was time. You know, that time that every relationship comes to - the time where you ask yourself, is this it? Is this the one? Is this forever? 

Me as a 20 year old on my first big adventure abroad!

As I asked myself these question, as I even talked with him about these questions, I realised I was undecided. (A great question to ask your significant other... "Will you wait for me?" NOT!). I loved my relationship with him; I loved that we got along so well; I loved that he was so secure. I, however, was not. I was in the middle of realising who I was, who I wanted to be, what I wanted to do. And in that, I became very uncertain in what our relationship would provide to my life! I talked with it about him, I talked about it with others, I thought about it always. And I loved who I was becoming, what I was discovering! But it was completely outside of who I was in that relationship.

In the end, he broke up with me. He was protecting himself from getting hurt by me, or so he says. But it was for the best. I continued on my path to who I am today - a path that has included traveling to many different places, living in many different places, meeting so many people, and just enjoying my single-dom (even in the relationships I have had since then). 

After that relationship though, I realised something - and this is how I told myself this realisation...

If I would have stayed with him, I would have had a good life. I would have been happy. I would have been settled. But I would not have done everything that I have been able to do since then. I would likely have started holding a grudge against him for making me choose the simple life. I would have felt like I...settled. 

And I made a pact to myself - I would never settle again. I would never allow myself to choose a man over the next adventure, the next thing. And I don't think I have! I have been constantly striving towards greatness. (Not reaching it yet, obviously). 

But I recently came across something, while working on a document here at work. I thesaurused (is that a word? haha!) the word 'to settle.' And this is what I came up with:

- resolve, reconcile, clear up, straighten out, mend, patch up

- stay, inhabit, put down roots, set up house, establish yourself, colonise, stay on, remain

- land, perch, alight, roost, come to rest

- become peaceful, become calm, settle down, calm down, relax

- sink, drop, descend, fall, go to the bottom, lie

 And I realised. All this time, these many years, I have been looking at the word 'to settle' in a very close-minded way. I thought when people settled, they sank, they fell to the bottom, they stayed. I thought that if I settled, I would just drop. My roots would sink down and I would never move again. 

But look at what else 'to settle' means - to resolve, to become peaceful, to come to rest. I realised that in that moment as a 20-year old when I came into my own as a woman, I was doing just that - I was resolving who I was with who I would be. I came to rest in my full being. I was finally at peace with who I am - a curious, world travelling, woman who does everything in her own individual way, with a passionate heart, a strong tongue and a stubborn mind.

I was working so hard to not settle, that somewhere along the way, I settled.

Set Fire to the Rain

And the rains came down

Today is World Water Day. A day dedicated by the international community to focus on water - lack of access, usage, and how much we need it to live.

Interestingly enough, rainy season has started here in Haiti. For someone, like myself, who grew up in consistantly sunny weather (Oh, southern California!), this season is a favourite. I get to experience rain, cool(ish) weather, thunderstorms and all the glories of living in a tropical climate that experiences torrential rain.

This is not the same for many Haitians though. For them, the rain means an additional trouble when trying to traverse and live their lives. The streets turn into rivers; floods happen not only in rivers, but also in fields, downtown, and with it comes the garbage, landslides and rock slides. Because of the floods and lack of drainage, any improper sanitation facilities (i.e. toilets), leak all of their lovely goodness out into the streets, increasing the chance to contract cholera or some other water-bourne disease.

With Haiti's current transition from responding to the earthquake, to longer-term development, this poses an issue...how do we respond to the annual 'emergency' of the rainy season. This comes every year; every year we have a spike in water-bourne disases; every year we remember that sanitation, sewage and drainage here is lacking. But also, every year we remember how difficult it is to build up the sort of infrastructure that will prevent this kind of damage from happening again.

As the saying goes, 'Rome wasn't built in a day'. Neither was Haiti. But until 'building back better' actually leads to something improved (which it will - it has to, or else what am I here for), I will have to temper my love of the rain with the affect and difficulties it brings to everyone else.

A Little Schmooze

Field-based Assessment

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about the interesting dicotomy aid work has in regards to professional / social life differences. While all aid workers have their own motivations for doing the work they do, I would bet that one of those reasons is because of their desire to give back to those who have less than we do. 

So, we spend all our work days talking about how to develop, how to respond, working with beneficiaries, spending days out in camps and 'in the field' collecting information, managing the teams that are building infrastructure and conducting trainings to bring a benefit to the communities, and more. We have our days when we are dirty; we have our days when we are sitting under a mango tree having a community meeting; we have our days when we are frustrated with those who don't work directly in this sector because of their lack of understanding; we have our days filled with meetings about strategy and future. 

But that's just during work hours. 

Outside of work, it is possible to live quite a nice, particularly here in Port-au-Prince. We have the restaurants, the pools, the parties. But particularly, we have the people we socialise with.

While here in Haiti, I have socialised with businesspeople, owners, restauranteurs, entrepreneurs, heads of organisations, UN liaisons, and even at one point, the entourage of the President's son. In other words, the influencers on society.

Pool Day Sunday

In life, it is common that getting things done is all about who you know. That is no less true here, and in many cases, is that much more relevant. I received a text today saying that if anything happens while out at our field bases, give this person a call because he knows the head of MINUSTAH (the UN peacekeeping force). Because of my housemate's links at the gym, we have gotten into multiple places for free, gotten invited to parties, and found out about the best new things to do. Because of my manager's network, we stay abreast of the political situation and we get some insider knowledge, or at least additional context, around what is going to be happening. 

What I find fascinating about living the life of an expat is that the people we are here to help, are not necessarily the ones that we get to know. (Before anyone freaks out, we do get to know them too. It's just in a much different context). We get to know the people at the top of the social strata. We get to know the 'somebodies'.

I don't know how I feel about this; I don't know if I would change it. But I can say that I could never have said that about life back home.


It's just...odd. And a part of expat life, I suppose.

Colour Focussed

I love being able to work and live all over the world. Because of it, I get to meet many interesting people, and am constantly learning about new cultures. Imagine: discussions about voodoo over lunch, getting to know - and understand! - the Ethiopian calendar, being a translator between a Canadian and a Brit (you guys really do talk differently, you know), being able to understand what the Indian head shake really means. 

These are all things I would never have known, had I not worked abroad! 

In my previous position here in Haiti, I loved the diversity of my department - in the expat team, there we 2 Zimbabweans, a Cameroonian, a Sierra Leonean, and a Sri Lankan. As well as plenty of Haitians who contributed to our madness. I felt like I was learning something new everyday - including a lot from them about our team's work! They were quite the intelligent, and funny, bunch! 

But one of the things that has arisen while working with many nationalities for an international organisation is the relationship between white and non-white staff - even white and non-white expat staff. 

When I was discussing my previous role and its responsibilities with my last manager, a Sri Lankan, he asked me how I felt about reporting to a non-white. I, slightly incredulous to be asked that question, thought for a second and responded, "Fine. Why, are some people not?"

He had to explain to me that actually many white people have trouble working and supporting someone who is not the same colour as they are. I could comprehend what he was saying at the time, and even see how it would work in reality, but at the same time, I was also shocked, dismayed and very embarrassed on behalf of my colour. I confirmed this statement with the rest of my team, who were also not white, with them verifying that most of them had, in fact, experienced this sort of difficult working relationship in the past. 

Sadly, my dismay quickly subsided when it became apparent to me that this is in fact true. You see, on my team, I was rightfully the lowest on the totem pole - at least among the expat portion -, in terms of experience and knowledge around the sector. I was also the only white person on the team. 

The office that our team functioned out of existed more as a corridor than an office - a corridor that held up to 20 people at one point or another. Constantly, throughout the day, I would observe as people would walk through the office, their eyes skimming past all the darker faces, focussing on mine alone. And then there were the multiple times when I was approached to answer a question about the team as a whole, whether it was to add input to a greater strategy, or to be introduced to a new staff. That was always a nice awkward moment of: "Well, I am not actually the best person to answer that - how about you talk to my manager?" or, "Oh, it is very nice to meet you. Let me introduce you to my manager as well; he will be your best point of contact here." 

I found this particularly frustrating. Not only did it put a lot of pressure on me, I was embarrassed to be the one white person; I was frustrated that people would automatically assume that I held the knowledge of the team, when I most decidedly did not. I think it might have annoyed my manager as well. 

What is the best response to this? I don't know. All I know is that in my experience, colours permeate our interactions more than we realise. And maybe as an expat in a developing country, I notice it more, because I am very much a minority here, and the expat staff force is actually quite diverse.

Have you had any experiences like this? How would you respond? If you are white, how would you feel if your manager was a black African, who spoke with an accent? Or what about someone who didn't speak much English at all?

Catch Phrase

President Martelly, aka Sweet Mickey, just can't miss Carnival!

Last time I was in Haiti, my catch phrase, or in this case catch word, for Haiti was 'ridiculous.' Everything that happened was so out of this world, unlogical, changing, it was ridiculous. 

Well, Haiti hasn't changed. That is to say it hasn't changed to become unchanging and logical. But my catch phrase has changed. 

Now, whenever anything happens, my response to it is 'This is Haiti.'*

So, when there are 2 earthquakes in one week, and people in PaP freak out and sleep on the streets?

This is Haiti. 

When there are speculations about political unrest?

This is Haiti.

When 2 senators resign over the dual-citizenship debacle?**

This is Haiti.

When the president decides on Wednesday that for the first time in however long, Haiti will move to Daylight Savings, the following Sunday 

This is Haiti.

When work is let out early and NGOs go on lockdown, because the president has to speak - and his speech ends up being just him showing his 8 passports?

This is Haiti. 


When field based instutional donors move the deadline for their funding proposals forward a month and a half!?


This is Haiti.

When you are never sure if human rights are being abused or protected?

This is Haiti. 

When the woman doesn't have the cell phone you want to purchase in stock, and says that she will have it this week, but wants you to pay for it before you receive it and come back to pick it up later in the week (yeah, right, like I would do that!)?  

This is Haiti.

When you get to watch a lightning storm in the distance? 

This is Haiti. 

And oh what an adventurous place it is. :)  

* This has a story - I was out to dinner with colleagues at a nice, local restaurant, when we were approached by the owner asking if we would mind being filmed for a Haiti Ministry of Tourism video they were filming. As a part of this, the videographer would like to have one person look into the video and say, 'This is Haiti' Well, that person ended up being me. Keep watching their website to see if I show up on there! (I haven't yet). 


** There is a current debate about the President as to whether he is Haitian or not. Constitutionally, he must hold only a Haitian passport, as Haiti does not recognise dual citizenship. If he has 2, his presidency will become null and void. The president only commented this week on it, when another group of senators signed. Previously other ministers have resigned and the Prime Minister was pretty much forced out. We will see what becomes of it. Only time will tell. 

*** This is also the Catch Phrase of the Ministry of Tourism. But they mean it in a good way:

 

Commémoration de Deux Années - un réponse

Two years ago today, a cataclysmic earthquake struck Haiti.

And today, the media is overwhelmed with articles about what has and has not been done since the earthquake struck. 

In response to the BBC's article entitled, "Haiti's tent cities signal long road to quake recovery" this is what I have to say.

Cemetary in the rural mountains outside of PaP. 
It dramatically increased in size post-earthquake.

As an aid worker based in Port-au-Prince, I have seen many of the disparities and struggles of the Haitian people over the last 2 years.

You are correct - there are still many people living in camps, and much work still needs to be done. There is still a massive lack of access to good water and sanitation, a problem in a time of cholera, unemployment is still rampant throughout the nation, stable homes are difficult to find.

But much has changed. Many people forget that 2010 was a difficult year for Haiti - more than just the earthquake at the beginning of the year. The rest of the year included a cholera epidemic, a hurricane, political violence, followed by difficulties in creating a functioning government.

Aid work does not happen overnight, particularly in a complex context such as this. Prior to the earthquake, Haiti was struggling to get to its feet. If the international community was looking to get Haiti back to its status quo prior to the earthquake, you might be able to see all the work that has been done in the last 2 years.

But the international community chose to 'Build Haiti Back Better.' This takes time; this takes money; this takes stability. Two years is not enough time to see this change; money promised has not been disbursed; 2010 was not even close to being stable.

I was not in Haiti for a few months towards the end of 2011. When I left, cholera was still a major concern, donors were taking their time in approving projects and delivering money, and Haiti still did not have a Prime Minister.

When I returned, however, I found a different Haiti. Construction is happening everywhere; new businesses are being developed; the government is proving to be stable, although, as with any government, there are still many concerns. Initiatives are in place to assist those living in camps to move to more permanent homes. Haiti even decorated for Christmas this year!

One cannot look at what has NOT been completed without looking at what has, with the eye that development takes time. The US did not become what it is today in 2 years - no, it took hundreds of years! Why do we expect change in Haiti to take place in a minutia of the time?

Haitians are very impassioned individuals; they are dedicated to their country and to building it back better, as is much of the international community. Instead of saying alarmist statements, such as walking into camps to see a man pointing a gun at another man's head, why can we not focus on the fact that those living in the camps are committed to moving their lives forward, to finding whatever work they can to earn enough to send their children to school.

Change is happening in Haiti. President Martelly was correct in saying that yes, we want to move fast, but we also want to do it right. Please do not expect quality to happen overnight.

For those that are interested, I enjoyed reading these articles below.  

The Guardian -

Haiti earthquake: two years on, and just half of promised aid has been delivered 

The Miami Herald -

Many question whether Haiti quake donations were put to best use

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/2012/01/09/2581629/many-question-whether-haiti-quake.html#storylink=cpy

 

Religion and Human Rights: A Response

This post is a response to Kate from Wronging Rights' post entitled: 'Trying to Think about Human Rights and Religion'

Source

As a Christian and student of Human Rights, religion and human rights is actually something that I have thought about a lot, more specifically on the linkages between human rights and religion and how we can use religiosity in favour and as a complement to human rights.

At the beginning of my studies, the first thing we discussed was the philosophy and history of human rights. In our lecture, our professor repeatedly said that as human rights activists, we need to be able to convince others that human rights exist and why they should believe in and uphold the rights themselves (which now, come to think of it, sounds exactly like proselytism).

I am also an aid worker, so throughout all of this, I was interested in being able to communicate the importance of human rights in emergency responses. But going to someone in Haiti or Kenya or Afghanistan and telling them, well, John Locke said this, and Rousseau said this, so logically you see, there is a natural law surrounding human rights, nd this is why you should believe in them and this is what you should do to uphold them, and what your government is responsible for as a duty-bearer just sounds difficult. How do you thrust the thoughts and opinions of Europeans and Americans onto those who are not, and convince them that this is what they should believe. Yes, this is where the neo-colonialism aspect comes in. 

In her article, Kate referenced the story about the success of the Tostan campaign against FGM in Senegal, which is a UN-led campaign that "seeks to build consensus, African-style, on the dangers of the practice, while being careful not to denounce it as barbaric as Western activists have been prone to do." They link with local women and men to train on health and human rights issues in the locally-approved way. The main starting point, though, included - interestingly enough - meeting with the village chiefs and imams to convince them that in Islam there was no religious requirement for cutting. The practice, in fact, pre-dates Islam by centuries!This process worked. By having the support of the religious leaders in the community, they were able to move to a community-based, human rights-based campaign and training programme to end FGM.

This example shows that by using 'localisation' tactics, as coined by Kate, there is actually a better opportunity to work with the local culture and context to bring different cultures,  communities, and governments to an agreement around supporting human rights. Where is much of this work needed? The developing world. And, as noted by many, the most religious people in the world can also be found in the places where some of the most atrocious human rights abuses exist. 

The Tostan campaign is just an example of how human rights and religion should work together to actually change in a locally-based, community-owned way. 

Now, I am not saying that I have all the answers to linking human rights with religion (especially when you throw into it the ideologies of all the varieties religion can take - fundamentalist to liberal), but while I was a student and we were looking for the philosophical base behind human rights in order to convince those who's rights have been abused or those who have the duty to uphold rights, I never felt satisfied with the answer. One of the principles I commit my work to, is to always consider the local context, to refer to local staff and customs and of course to collaborate with communities. Human rights should not be discluded from this. Neither should ignoring the religious viewpoints of those we are trying to help.

Perhaps religion actually is the answer, the logic, behind human rights. We need to not be so scared to explore what religion can bring to human rights because we in the Euro/Aus/American world are so afraid of church and politics. It might just be the winning argument to change.

*I am sure I will develop more thoughts on this topic as time passes. This is just my preliminary dump.

Consequences

P/C: Shine Phinao

Every action has its consequences. Good or Bad. Sometimes you treasure them; sometimes you regret them. 

When I was 18 years old, I chose to attend a conservative Christian university to continue my education. There are many reasons why I chose the school, but I must admit, my attendance led to many frustrations. Frustrations with the institution, with its beliefs, with its policies, with the education received. 

There are many moments where I have wondered, "knowing what I know now, with all its frustrations, would I do it all again?" Sometimes, I have responded "NO!" wishing I had considered all the options and chosen a different course; thinking that I would have been happier.

But then I realise - no matter how frustrated I was, no matter how non-prestigious my university was, it led me to some really awesome people.

People I am proud to call some of my best, and longest, friends. People who share like mind-sets and worldviews, who love and can be loved, who bring joy and laughter. Who, no matter where we are in the world, or how long we have been apart, we can pick right back up where we left off.

When I think about this unintended consequence, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Figs

When I was living in Pasadena a few years ago, I had a fig tree that hung over my balcony. It was intermixed with a Jacaranda tree that bloomed lovely purple flowers every spring. 


This sounds amazing, right? Beauty every spring, and fresh fruit every summer? To me though, it was annoying. The purple flowers would fall on the balcony and litter the ground with slippery, dried up, dead flowers. It was a terror to clean. The fig tree, on the other hand, went unappreciated. I am not a big fan of figs. 


Literally or figuratively. 


You see, in my life, it seems like every choice, as so eloquently put by Sylvia Plath, is a fig. But if I choose one, I cannot have the others. They will just wilt and die. 


Every woman has this choice. It is particularly strong in the humanitarian field. It is very rare to find a woman who has spent the majority of her life in the field, who is married with children. In fact, the great majority of people in the humanitarian sector are either single, or divorced. 


So what is the most important? What is your priority?


This question - which fig to choose - and even, do I have to choose a fig - are thoughts that regularly fill my mind. 


I only hope I choose one and am happy with my decision before they all fall, rotten, to the ground.

The Big Picture

The Big Picture - Griffith Observatory

Looking up, I, with tear-dimmed eyes, saw the mighty Milky-way. Remembering what it was - what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light - I felt the might and strength of God. Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured.
- Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte

Look at that smog! You can barely see the Hollywood sign!

Last week, I decided to get out of the house and get some culture. So, I drove myself out to the Griffith Observatory, which is free and in the amazing Griffith Park in the view of the Hollywood sign. Before entering the observatory, I took a stroll in the park and watched the sunset over that infamous monument. The park was peaceful, as I took time to breathe in the lovely California smog and think about life - trying not to stress about it is more like it.


One of the things about being "in between contracts" is that it gives one a lot of time to think, aka get discouraged and worry about what is next and when it's going to come about. Some days, I am able to be positive. Some days, positivity is just not possible. Most days, it is about just focusing on the here and now. 


My visit to the observatory was one of those days. Just trying to enjoy the present and trust that better times are to come. One of the exhibits actually really brought this point home for me, and it keeps being brought back to my attention. 


They have this amazing exhibit called "The Big Picture". What it is, (pictured above) is essentially a big picture of space - of stars, galaxies, and the universe. Yes, it is awesome to look at as you walk around a room exploring space. As described on the website, the photo shows just a tiny slice of the universe - about the amount of sky that your index finger would cover if you held it about a foot away from your eyes. Viewed through the telescope that took this picture, there are over one-and-a-half million visible stars, galaxies and other celestial objects! And that is just what 1 index finger covers! 


In one of the videos about the photo, it showed the scale of the stars and galaxies seen. Now, anyone who has been to an observatory or taken an astronomy class knows that the light from stars that we see here on earth is "in the past" - that is that the light that the star gave off had to travel so many billions of light years to get to us here on earth. And that takes time. So, essentially the light that we are seeing was emitted from the star in the past. But we are seeing it in the present - we are looking through time into the past! What a crazy concept right?!


But what really got me was the depth of space video. It showed the depth and scale of the sliver of space we were viewing in the Big Picture. From this video, you could see just how small and tiny we were in the scale and depth of the universe. And how what we can see in space is just a minutiae of what exists. 

How do you see stars with all that light / smog pollution!?!

It got me thinking. There is a bigger picture out there. As that quote from Jane Eyre (read just this morning!) emphasises - we are so small in the grand scheme of things, in the big picture of the universe. But just as God neither prevents the universe from imploding, so will he protect us and implement his plan for us. But, just as we view the light from stars that radiated out of it billions of years ago, when life is rendered, when we see the light, will be at the right time for us. 


I didn't mean for this to get all spiritual or contemplative on you, but when the Big Picture is put in front of your eyes, you really start to put into perspective all the time spent worrying about your own small slice of the universe.