Under a December Haitian Moon

Under a Haitian Moon

Deye mon gen mon.
Beyond the mountains there are mountains.
Haitian proverb

The mountains beyond the Citadelle, a fortress at 3000 feet elevation
built by Henri Christophe in 1820 after defeating the French
and gaining independence.
It is the only UNESCO World Heritage site in Haiti.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The days are markedly shorter round these parts, as of course they are all across the northern hemisphere each December when the sun makes its annual pilgrimage south to the Tropic of Capricorn. Even so, it remains sunny and warm most days here in Port-au-Prince, despite the reduced hours of sunlight.

And these days of reduced sunlight put something of a fine point on the reduced number of days we have left in Haiti, as – amazingly – we can now count them in single digits.

It seems such a common human condition to arrive at a turning point of some big important period in life – the end of a school year, a change in careers, even the passing of seasons or a change in the calendar year – and wonder where the time went. I suppose in this new life we’ve chosen such transitions of somewhat greater import occur more often than perhaps is typical, as our tours of duty change every one, two or three years. And with those transitions from one post to another we not only change our specific jobs, we also change countries, residences, and the circle of close friends with whom we have bonded over the experiences in this crazy life. It would further seem this path we’ve chosen is not for the faint of heart.

To be sure we’ve had an interesting, challenging, fun, frustrating, difficult, rewarding experience. We did tell ourselves we wanted a new challenge after all, and that we have had in spades. Maybe it’s this way at every post, maybe just in developing countries, I don’t know. What I do know is that, as we paused from our old life and launched ourselves into this one, we experienced more of a roller coaster of emotions in a more concentrated period of time than we ever have before.

And so now we’ve come to the end of our first tour, and are about to transition to Washington and Minnesota for a few months before embarking on another crazy adventure, this time in the Republic of Moldova. In attempting to tie up some loose ends in the Haitian chapter, I present to you a series of short stories omitted from previous editions, either because they happened since the last one, or perhaps because I simply forgot about them in the mix of all the other stuff swirling around in my gray matter.

The Fraud Trip
In June I spent a few interesting days traveling in the north of Haiti with a Haitian colleague investigating suspected cases of immigrant visa fraud by several of our applicants.

One version of the various suspected fraud stories goes like this: An American citizen or legal permanent resident in the US petitions for their unmarried adult child here in Haiti. Now suppose this adult child applicant has young children too. When those third-generation children are born here in Haiti, their birth certificates indicate the marital status of the parents. To apply as an unmarried child of an LPR or citizen is a faster process than to apply as a married child of an LPR or citizen, so occasionally these adult child applicants try to game the system by changing their marital status on their children’s birth documents, or by hiding their marriage in other ways. Sometimes an officer interviewing this applicant believes this marital status should be investigated to see if there truly is fraud involved, and requests such an investigation from our Fraud Prevention Unit in the Consulate.

This is where my trip comes into play. We had several cases across the north to investigate, some like the one described as well as several other types of cases. Two embassy drivers in two embassy vehicles, one Haitian colleague, one college student intern and I all set off for four days and three nights of travel to various churches, local government offices and schools to conduct our investigations in Gonaives (B), Port-de-Paix (C) and Cap Haitien (D).

Some highlights:
The road from PAP to the far north coast. The total distance from Port-au-Prince (A) to Port-de-Paix is about 300 kms or 190 miles, which would take about three hours at 60 mph without stopping. Of course you know by now this isn’t how things work here. On the map below you will see most of our route. We did stop a few times for short investigations in the town of Gonaives, but those only took about an hour total, maybe two max. No lunch stops, no potty stops (other than when we were already stopped: no convenience stores or public restrooms readily available). In the end the trip north to Port-de-Paix took a total of almost 12 hours.

The road from Port-au-Prince to Port-de-Paix. Kind of a tough, mostly unpaved road through some very rural parts of Haiti, punctuated by tiny villages, some no more than a handful of Haitian homes, where the roadside was occupied by mango vendors, some tidy looking small agricultural plots, small packs of kids and the occasional stray dog or goat. If that were all, that would most certainly be enough as the trip was, as you know, quite long. However, of course you also know by now this isn’t how things work here. As it happened there was a protest taking place in between Gonaives and Port-de-Paix that day. Evidently citizens had become very frustrated with the lack of sufficient progress on reconstruction of their road, so they decided to dig a very large trench across the full width of said road and then proceeded to fill the trench with various flammable items and set them alight.

Viewing the trench cut in the road, thwarting our forward progress.

As a result, we needed to take a slightly different path. And “path” might be a pretty accurate word to describe the goat path we took to make our way around this obstacle. We proceeded through the vegetation pressing against the sides of the car, along a rough and tumble, rock-strewn, slightly vertical one-lane side road amidst several homes crowded alongside. However, local villagers were truly determined to make their opinions heard on this matter, so they had rolled big rocks in the middle of this little lane to prevent forward progress. Our two-car convoy was stuck, so our driver rolled down his window and chatted with the locals, explaining (not without some element of risk) that we were from the US Embassy and needed to get through for our business. Fortunately, they told him they had no beef with us, and so rolled away the rocks and let us pass.

Rolling the rocks back in place.

Immediately after we passed through, the villagers rolled the rocks back into place, as seen from the rear window of my car.

The road from Port-de-Paix to Cap Haitien. After our stay in Port-de-Paix, we had appointments in the northern port town of Cap Haitien. While the map above makes that look like a relatively easy proposition, of course you know by now this isn’t how things work here. Evidently, the road between Port-de-Paix and Cap isn’t passable by car. In order to go from C to D one has to backtrack to Gonaives (B), which takes about two hours on a good day, then turn back north on a road not identified on that map toward D, another two-plus hours away. This, too, would be all well and good, other than the fact that as we prepared to leave Port-de-Paix, the alternator in one of the cars went on the fritz, leading to …

The switch-out. Our drivers made some adjustments with the extra car batteries in one car in order that both could proceed south to Gonaives, and contacted the Embassy motor pool for relief. My assumption was that the Embassy would send a car from PAP up to Gonaives to meet us, and then we would swap out the car with the bad alternator for a replacement with a working one, and then we would proceed back north to Cap Haitien. We drove the two-plus hours over the bumpy and bouncy gravel/stone/dirt track, back across the now repaired trench in the road to Gonaives, where we pulled to the side and waited for the replacement car and driver. Maybe half-an-hour went by until the other driver arrived, and all the drivers conferred while we passengers sat in the air conditioning and waited to go forward. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Fully two hours went by as we sat in the car (there are no fast food restaurants or really any kind of convenient place to just wait) while the drivers/mechanics actually replaced the dodgy alternator, and THEN we proceeded to drive the two-plus hours back north to Cap. Needless to say, it was a very, very long day on the road.

And then there was the investigation. So you may have heard that Haiti is a developing nation. The roads and critical infrastructure are still developing. Civil society is still developing. The business climate is still developing. The agricultural sector is still developing. Pretty much everything, I guess; technology included. As we would make stops at churches, schools and local government offices to research the births, marriages, schooling and deaths of applicants and their families, we were always confronted with a severe lack of technology. One might even say a total lack of technology. Records have been and still are hand-written at the local level (only the National Archives issues civil documents on secure, tamper-resistant paper), kept in large ledgers, and stored in less than optimal conditions, often kept stacked high in offices with no controls for humidity and what appeared to be no rhyme or reason to their organization. Judges, church and school officials often had to manually search through several file cabinets or cupboards, and then leaf through dozens of ledger books to find the appropriate record we sought. Often the right person wasn’t present or wouldn’t be for some time, and of course no one else was charged with the responsibility of an assistant.

Official records at a local church in the far north of Haiti.

It was a laborious, long, slow, and occasionally fruitful process, very resource intensive and overly complicated. But this is the way the system is today, and despite those difficulties and hardships, our investigation did yield some results. Plus I got to ride in the car for a bit.

And so like my epic car ride, this story has been unexpectedly long, and has finally come to an end.

Repatriating
I had one other pretty interesting opportunity while working in the Consulate when I traveled north again, but this time by air and with the US Coast Guard (USCG). In October, 15 Haitian migrants were apprehended off the coast of Florida trying to enter the United States without permission. The USCG interdicted them off the coast of Boca Raton after they paid a smuggler about $6000 per person (where the money came from is anybody’s guess, but probably from family living abroad) and sailed in less-than-seaworthy vessels more than 1000 miles from Haiti. I visited the far north town of Cap Haitien for a couple days with the Coast Guard officer housed in the Embassy, popped out to the USCG ship anchored about ½ mile off shore, and got a tour of the boat. They then took me back to shore on a RHIB (Rigid Hulled Inflatable Boat, aka Zodiac) where I observed the repatriation process and spoke to a few of the migrants.

A couple things struck me about this. First, it was pretty cool to take part in this operation at all, even if my role was very minor (I provided some language skills, as our Coast Guard guy doesn’t speak Creole). Second, the USCG treated the migrants with respect and care, giving them a couple meals each day, access to showers, cots and blankets, and the medical officer gave them a basic check-up. Some of the young sailors played games with the kids to keep them occupied on the week-long journey back to Haiti. Overall the migrants were treated fairly and well, and whether by policy or circumstance these young men and their captain didn’t just talk the talk of American values. Lastly the desperation: For a migrant to pay more than eight times the annual income of the average Haitian to take such a risk boggles the mind. (Evidently the fee paid to the suspected smugglers, who were removed from the USCG boat before my arrival, is for a “three trip package” should the first voyage be unsuccessful.) I suppose this puts a rather fine point on the migrant experience and the overall improvement in quality of life one can experience in the United States, if only one can manage to get there.

Several migrants being loaded onto an RHIB for repatriation in Cap Haitien.

 Photo courtesy of the USCG. 

The repatriation center.

Haitian Coast Guard Agent IV Weegens processing a migrant. 

A Haitian Coast Guard Officer chatting with a child migrant.

Mr. Red Shoe Guy was kind of unhappy with the United States.
About what I never figured out.

"They are selling lies!" screams the title.
As if the sharks and the floating coffins weren't enough.

Fun and Games 
Once in a while the good times seem outweighed by the difficulties of living in a place with so many challenges, and while it’s true to say we don’t exactly live or work in the same way as the average Haitian, that doesn’t diminish the difficulty of day-to-day life for everyone here. After all, rich Americans and rich Haitians alike have to drive on these roads.

So in the end, as is often the case in many places – even in highly developed countries, but especially so in Haiti where there aren’t as many distractions – you have to make your own fun. And much fun we did have these past two years.

Some examples:
Cigar Club. About 18 months ago some pals and I dreamed up the Cigar Club. We meet every Thursday, although occasionally it’s Friday, or sometimes even Wednesday. The group has no roster or membership cards, but we do manage to work on solving all the world’s problems. So far we’re at about a 0% success rate, but that doesn’t stop us from trying, enjoying a good cigar, and each other’s company in the process. Some of us even took a field trip into the Dominican Republic to tour the Davidoff factory outside Santiago. We’re a very forward thinking group.

All cigars are hand-rolled.

John, me, Rodrigo and Mr. Hendrik "Henke" Kelner, master blender and perfect host.

Me, John and Rodrigo outside a favorite cigar shop in Santo Domingo.

Canne a Sucre Social Club and Beer Drinking Team. A short-lived social club that sponsored outdoor movies on the green, a little park-like area in the center of Canne a Sucre. There we screened a few movies, had a few cold beverages, and perhaps indulged in a cigar. To keep the mosquitos away, yeah that’s it. I think we did this three times before the colleague who owned the projector and screen left post. Let me just say that Elf and A Charlie Brown Christmas were a bit more popular than The Bells of Saint Mary’s, despite the fact that we imbibed a bit every time someone said “Father.” Here’s to hoping the Club gains a new following with the recent addition of a new projector and portable screen purchased by the American Employees Association.

Book Club. Kate started a book club which proved to be very popular. There are about a dozen active members and many more passive members who may or may not actually know how to read. If I recall, books were discussed a bit, but the conversations generally centered on the high quality of the canapés and the wine.

Pick-up basketball at Marine House. Seriously, our fun doesn’t always center on wine and beer. In my somewhat stilted effort to be in some kind of shape other than roly-poly, I joined the pick-up basketball group who met twice weekly behind the Marine House (the dormitory where our Marines live on the Embassy grounds). Despite my long history of riding the bench, I managed to play quite often during our time here, and once in a while I even managed a basket or two before some part of me started to hurt.

A (Second) Very Marine Thanksgiving
One thing about which I am most proud is the effort a group of us made in putting on a Thanksgiving feast for the US Marine Security Guard Detachment each of the past two years. We have a group of seven Marines here (plus the Staff Sergeant), and many of them are away from home for the holidays for the first time. If someone were to invite the Marines over for Thanksgiving dinner, one Marine would always be left out as someone always must be on Post One (the main entrance to the Embassy). So last year a small group of us came up with the idea to host a full Thanksgiving meal – complete with turkey, dressing, wine and pie – at the Embassy itself so that the Marine on duty at Post One could join in the meal while at the same time ensuring there was coverage at the front door. It has been a smashing success, and I hope the Marines found it to be reminiscent of home, at least a little. We sure had fun doing it.

The Marine Security Guard Detachment honored
Kate and me with a Certificate of Appreciation.
We are incredibly honored.

Table for 45?  Smoking or non-smoking?

A Tale of Two Haitis 
So after two years, any number of things have struck me as either contradictory (as of course the society and culture of any country might appear to an outsider) or as paradoxical in this developing country. A small sampling:

• A highly Catholic country, within which vodou is often practiced, creating an interesting mélange of practices for a people trying to make sense of the world. Occasionally in Canne a Sucre I can even hear the call to prayer for the local Muslims living on the UN base nearby who are here with MINUSTAH, the UN force in Haiti since the 90s. Sometime ago I interviewed a Haitian for a non-immigrant (tourist) visa, and he turned out to be from a small Russian Orthodox community, which is highly unusual in Haiti. An interesting concoction to be sure. 

• The phenomenal disparity in wealth, punctuated by a small handful of powerful families, and where the vast majority of people have about a 4th grade education and earn around $700-$800 per year. The West has nothing on this gap. 

• In combination with that gap, prices here are quite incomprehensible. We can give our housekeeper $10 US (yes, we have a local lady come to the house twice a week for light cleaning; evidently this is the norm for expats in developing countries and, you know, we just want to be like everyone else) and she can buy so much fresh fruit and vegetables on the local market that we can’t eat it all. Then you go to the local grocery stores frequented by the international community and come away like a stunned mullet at how much it all costs. A few quick examples: 90 Tide pods for the washer are more than $50. One Digiorno frozen cheese pizza: more than $14; one supreme pizza: more than $15. One 15 oz box of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes: more than $11. One normal package of Oreos: $8. T-bone steak (not sure if it’s local or imported): $3.22 per pound. A 19 pound frozen Butterball turkey: $78.31. There are some exceptions, but suffice it to say prices are high. 

• Some absolutely stunning natural beauty, overrun by virtually absolute deforestation, extensive pollution and a seemingly indifferent attitude toward care for the land. A peculiar observation is when seeking a particular destination (restaurant, hotel, private home, what have you) and driving through the crowded, garbage strewn streets mostly in one state of disrepair or another, one will ultimately come to some sort of large extensive wall with a gate in it. Proceeding through the gate often leads to well cared for gardens, clean grounds and often beautiful structures. Early on in my tour a local told me that Haitians care far more for the appearance of their clothes, shoes and cars than they do for their homes. I would add their public spaces to the latter side of that equation. 

• Extraordinarily nice people who are working hard and doing their best with what they have, in contradistinction to many who will, at first sight of a ‘blan,’ hold out their hand (literally and figuratively) for aide of some sort. Maybe my time in the window of the Consulate has colored my view, for I spend my days interviewing people in a massively disparate economic equation (I control access to something incredibly valuable, and applicants will often do whatever they feel necessary to acquire it), but I find this element most disturbing. Driving up the hill to the somewhat tarnished but tony suburb of Petionville recently, we came to a stop at an intersection where Kate saw a small child of about three alongside the road with some family. As soon as the child saw an obvious blan, his hand shot out in that universal symbol of entreaty. Maybe it had nothing to do with our status as white strangers, but after two years of repeated similar events, I am not inclined to give the benefit of the doubt. 

I’m reasonably certain that similar observations will be made about every future post I will have, and by no means are these observations from a simple guy like me meant to be made in a vacuum, without context, or to be overly critical. Every person, city and country is a work in progress, and sometimes we take a step or two back in the process. The French have a saying, which of course has its equivalent in Kreyol: “Piti piti zwazo fe nich li.”

“Little by little the bird makes his nest.”  We’re all just a work in progress.

Value added. Maybe… 
On my worst day teaching, when I sensed I was adrift and without focus (or my students were), I at least always felt that my presence in the classroom was adding some value to society as a whole. At least a little, anyway; but of course it was a type of value that is much more qualitative than quantitative.

Working as a Consular officer doesn’t quite provide the same sense of achievement or significance to society as teaching did, but it certainly is more quantifiable. (As a reminder, there are three basic kinds of consular work: Processing immigrant visas for those wishing to move to the US and become permanent residents or citizens; American citizen services work for those in trouble or needing civil documents while overseas; and interviewing non-immigrant visa applicants for those wishing to visit the US as tourists, which is the easiest to quantify.) I won’t speak for others who do such entry level consular work (although I think it’s pretty universal), but doing non-immigrant visa interviews is kind of a grind. In about four to five hours a day, one interviews from 60 to upwards of 100 people asking essentially the same seven to ten questions of every applicant. (This was in Haiti; your mileage may vary at every Embassy.) It’s rather mundane and can be very boring, and seems rather inconsequential when it comes to adding overall value to society in any kid of qualitative sense.

But the quantifiable-ness (quantifiabilty? quantifiabilitiness?) starts and ends with the numbers. I served two years in Haiti, with two separate stints in the NIV unit, for a total of just over eight months. In that time I interviewed a total of 7035 people, approving 3755 and refusing 3280 for an overall refusal rate 46.62%. At $160 per interview (paid for by the applicant), that amounts to $1,125,000.00, and I’m not particularly fast in this work. A colleague did 12 straight months of NIV work and interviewed over 16,000 people, adding more than $2.5 million to the Bureau of Consular Affairs (CA). This more than covers the cost of our salaries and benefits, and so technically adds monetary value to the overall system, the balance of which is re-invested in technological improvements and pays for other expenses within CA. Globally in fiscal year 2013, more than 9.1 million non-immigrant visas were issued (it would seem this figure only includes issuances and does not account for refusals), totaling more than $1.4 billion dollars, helping make Consular Affairs completely self-sustaining, and resulting in CA requiring zero taxpayer dollars. And that’s just the revenue for NIVs, and doesn’t include the $50 per signature we charge – per signature – for our notary services in ACS, US passport replacements or renewals, or the fees for different immigrant visa applications or other services.

Did I add value? No doubt some. But it doesn’t quite feel the same to issue a tourist visa to a little old lady merchant or middle-aged farmer than it did to hear from a student who managed to pass your class when she didn’t think she would; who graduated from high school when he didn’t think he could; or who came back later and thanked you for making a difference.

The End is Nigh 
So we managed to avoid most serious maladies during our tour, and for that we are very grateful. Aside from one bout last year with E.coli after eating out at a local restaurant (me), and a smashed thumb in the hatchback of the car in the waning weeks of our tour (Kate), the worst thing to happen were short incidents of the Haitian Sensation, which usually just resolves itself after a week or so.

Kate left her position as a Consular Assistant in early December, after about 18 months on the job. Last June she was honored with a Franklin/Eagle Award for her work with two others to coordinate the assembly of the playground structure at SMDT. In addition to the high point of working with the orphanage, she certainly made some life-long friends during our time in Haiti.

Kate receiving her award from the Ambassador.

Sophie was back over the summer as an ACS intern, and returned to Minnesota in the fall for her sophomore year at Gustavus. She has her own campus radio show on Monday evenings, and recently had a poem and short story published in the bi-annual Gustavus Journal of Literacy and Graphic Arts. About to leave on a short trip to Ireland with some buddies, she’s really found a home in the Gustavus community.

Last fall Tommy short-circuited the plans of his parents and went ahead and signed up with the US Navy. We had thought he’d sign on the dotted line next spring, but the timing for his after-graduation plans made this a more appropriate choice for him. He’s off to Florida on a swim team training trip after Christmas, will graduate at the end of May, and he’ll ship off to basic training sometime next fall. We are so incredibly happy that he, too, found a home for himself in St. Peter.

We’ve now packed out our house, and most of our stuff is en route to Europe. It will sit in storage in Belgium or somewhere until our arrival at our next post in Moldova in September 2015. Kate left for Minnesota in early December, and so the house is pretty darn empty. If I think about it too much, the recognition of being all alone in an empty house and in a foreign country can be a bit overwhelming. So I just choose not to think about it.

End of Chapter 1
So, thanks for coming along for the ride these past two years. I’ve rather enjoyed your company, and hope you enjoyed reading a bit about this crazy new life upon which we’ve embarked. It’s been something of a roller coaster, which I suppose would have been true had nothing changed at all back in 2011 when I accepted this position.

It’s been quite a trip, and for us, life is good. We hope you can say the same.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And for your viewing pleasure, here's a little Haitian Christmas song called "Vle pa vle," which means "Like it or not," and in the images where you see Santa you'll see some of the great kids from SMDT. It’s a rather catchy little tune which I quite like.

We're off to Minnesota and Wisconsin for the holidays, and I'll be heading to Washington early in January to begin training for the next post in Moldova. I'll stay in DC until July, and Kate and Sophie will join me off and on during that time for training of their own. Let us know if you’ll be in DC next year and we’ll have a beer together and catch up on old times.

Until next time, friends…



Jwaye Nwèl tout zanmi / Jweye Nwèl tout fanmi.

Merry Christmas friends / Merry Christmas family.

- 30 -

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed above are my own and not those of the U.S. Government.

Please do not disseminate widely without permission.

Help for Haitian Orphans

Happy Thanksgiving friends and family!

As we wrap up our time in Haiti this holiday season, we find ourselves incredibly thankful for the many blessings in our lives, one of which has been our long and strong relationship with a local orphanage not far from the Embassy.

Many of you have heard of our involvement with SMDT (Sant Mete Men Pou Defann Dwa Timoun, or Hands Together to Defend the Rights of Children [HTDC]) over the past two years.  Every day can be a challenge in a difficult country like Haiti, but Carlo (the young Director) and his family do quite a remarkable job with their limited resources.  Our Embassy community and a host of other groups and individuals from around the world provide help as they can, but with irregular food shipments, an unreliable supply of electricity, no running water, hard-to-believe prices for land and rent, and no stable source of revenue, it seems they are always operating from a deficit.

However, there have been several significant, positive changes over the last six months or so, and there are more to come in the next few.  Perhaps the most major has been the formation of a Committee of loyal volunteers (Allies of SMDT) who are working with Carlo to coordinate efforts among the various partners around the world.  This has eased some shortages, reduced the duplication of effort, and created a more seamless method of communication among the various partners.  We are very proud and excited to be a part of this core group of people committed to the children of SMDT.

Kate & Bodlison  |  Christmas 2013

Kate & Bodlison  |  Christmas 2013

Perhaps the most exciting new development has been the creation of a sponsorship program which allows for more direct support by donors worldwide.  Many of you have asked us how you can help these beautiful and smart kids, and working with our Allies of SMDT group we have partnered with International Disaster Volunteers (IDV) from the United Kingdom and the charitable-giving website Global Giving (www.globalgiving.org, a 501(c)3 organization in the United States) to establish a sponsorship program for the *direct benefit of SMDT and the kids who live there.

  

(* The Global Giving Foundation site does have a nominal 15% administrative fee, which covers all their costs.  Many donors make an incremental extra contribution at checkout to help cover this fee to ensure more of their donation goes to the project they have chosen to support.  This results in an average of 90% of all funds being donated directly to projects.  See their site for further information.)

  

This is where you come in.

So many of you have mailed packages to us in the past containing clothes, toiletries, and art supplies, and we say mesi anpil (thank you very much), they are all greatly appreciated.  And while most of you are not able to make a trip to Haiti to meet these wonderful children in person and experience their wit, intelligence and unconditional love, you continue to want to help. 

This sponsorship program makes it very easy for you to help build a future for these wonderful children.

There are three simple ways to provide help for the educational, nutritional, housing and health care needs for kids like 13-year-old Nicholson, who came to live at SMDT in 2010 after the earthquake.  His father had passed away, and his mother could no longer care for him along with her nine other children.  He has a million-dollar smile and a very kind heart, and is always willing to help others whenever he can. 

Sophie and Tommy making new friends at SMDT

Sophie and Tommy making new friends at SMDT

You can help Nicholson and the other children by providing funds to the overall efforts of the SMDT mission, easily done by:

1. Donating online.  You can contribute directly at the Global Giving website, where funds are collected for the benefit of all the kids and their various needs.  You can help meet all the basic needs of Nicholson and the other kids by using a credit, debit, or gift card, or by using PayPal, personal check, or wire transfer. Simply go to http://www.globalgiving.org/projects/fund-security-for-haitian-orphans/ to help out today.
2.  Sending a Text Message.  You can easily contribute by donating $5, $10 or $25 to SMDT via Global Giving.  Simply text “GIVE 6235” to 80088.  Standard messaging rates apply.  Check https://mgive.org/terms-of-service.aspx for more information.  This only applies to mobile phones in the United States.
3. ** Sponsoring a specific child for a specific need.  You can also contribute via Global Giving to help a particular child at SMDT through what are called microprojects.  This is funding to cover the specific educational, nutritional, housing or health care needs for a child, like a years’ worth of meals for Nicholson or to send Christelle to school for a year.  You will see only two microprojects highlighted on the Global Giving site at any one time, and when the costs for that need for that particular child are fully funded, another of the 27 kids from SMDT will be posted to the site.  For various technical reasons, the Global Giving site and IDV only post two microprojects at a time.   If you have a desire to sponsor the entire cost of a need for a particular child (educational, nutritional, housing or health care), please contact us privately and we can send you some specific biographic info about a child whose needs have not yet been funded.

** It’s important to note that, while microproject funds are intended to be used in accordance with the stated description, SMDT needs maximum flexibility in using the funds to meet the needs of the children in the best, most efficient way possible, which means your donation may be used as part of the main project that supports the microproject.  Feel free to contact us or IDV if you have any questions.

When all is said and done, the total cost to fund all needs for all kids averages out to just about $5 per child per day.

Of course you can always continue to support the kids at SMDT in all the usual ways, too.  If you prefer to donate to SMDT directly through Carlo, bypassing Global Giving, please contact us for more information.   However, as SMDT is not a registered charity in the United States, it is not a 501(c)3 classified organization.

Finally, consider sharing this information with your family and friends, church and school groups.  If you are part of a group doing service projects or fundraising efforts, please keep the future of the 27 kids at SMDT in mind as a great option this holiday season, and beyond.  We have the ability to have large amounts of non-perishable foods and clothes shipped to Haiti for no cost via the United States Air Force through a program allowing humanitarian aid to utilize unused space on cargo planes, so if you have plans for a program like this at work, school or church and wish to contribute to SMDT in this way, contact us for more information.

If you want to see regular updates from the kids at SMDT, check out their Facebook page where photos, videos, and comments from the kids and Carlo appear regularly.  Find them on Facebook by searching for and “SMDT Orphanage – New.”   “Like” their page and add your comments too!

Thank you all so much for your friendship and support, and we all wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and a wonderful holiday season.

DP

Home

Last year at this time I was in Minnesota amidst my first R&R from Haiti, and posted this little ditty on Facebook.

Reprised here for Version 2.0 of R&R from Haiti, minus dear old Snickerdoodle who was laid to rest after 12 great years as a member of Team Panetti, and minus the loons.  Unless you consider some Gustie swimmers I met last night.

Home / Family / My children / my puppy.

Cool, dew-laden grass / Sweet, clean air / Friends & neighbors.

Calm, quiet mornings / Coffee on my deck / Slanted sun peeking through the trees in the early morning.

Full, lush trees / My own house / Dappled shade of maples, poplars and birch.

Quiet walks in the neighborhood / Squirrels hopping and climbing and preparing for fall / Home.

The Northwoods / Velvet carpet of lush hardwood forests / Spicy, scented air of pines, spruce, hemlock and cedar.

Unimaginable quiet / Cotton candy clouds / Haunting call of the loon / Soaring, majestic flight of the American Bald Eagle.

Clean, cool, crisp northern lakes / Family lore / Town characters / Wild blueberries in abundance.

"The challenging thing becomes / not to look for miracles / but finding where there isn't one."

Wisconsin / Minnesota / America / Home.

Under a June Haitian Moon

Under a Haitian Moon

Fok ou kon kote ou soti pou ou konnen kote ou pwale.

You must know where you come from to know where you’re going.

Haitian Proverb

Port-au-Prince at sunset from Observatoire de Boutilliere

Welcome Back!

It’s almost impossible to believe, but we now count the time remaining in our first tour in only months.  Soon we’ll have to start preparing for our pack-out (well, maybe not ‘soon’, but rather ‘soon-ish’ I suppose).  It’s been an eventful year, and the ride ain’t over yet!

Back in February I spent a long weekend in South Florida for a medical appointment.  Can I just say that Fort Lauderdale is a very pleasant place to spend time?  I’m particularly fond of the nice paved roads, clean public bathrooms, the Gateway Cinema, and Taco Bell.  I know, I know; surely you’re thinking clean public bathrooms aren’t all that much to get excited about, but like the old saying goes, you never know what you’re missing until it’s gone.

While preparing for my little mini-trip, Kate planned her own trip that same weekend to Minnesota for the annual Minnesota Intercollegiate Athletic Conference championships to see Tommy swim.  Upon her arrival back in the United States, word came from our renters that our old doggie, Snickerdoodle, was acting oddly and seemed a bit out of sorts the few days prior.  This news cast something of a pall over an otherwise very pleasant diversion from daily life in Port-au-Prince, for when one is a 12-year-old golden retriever one doesn’t want to experience behavior that is deemed odd.  Kate learned that she was not really eating, and for a dog who loved nothing more than mealtime, this was indeed a bad omen. 

A trip to the vet confirmed our worst fears that she was seriously ill.  She had had a toe removed last fall due to a tumor, and now the cancer had returned with a vengeance, having spread widely into her lungs and leading to another tumor on her left hind-quarter.  She struggled to breath and couldn’t run or play in anyway like she used to.  Her appetite had largely disappeared, and with that in particular it was clear she wouldn’t be able to withstand this new onslaught much longer.  We made the difficult decision to have her put to sleep, and I made a small side-trip back to Minnesota to be with the family and say my goodbyes to our loyal and loving puppy.  This sad trip did coincide with a serendipitous opportunity to see Tommy swim in the championships at the University of Minnesota Aquatic Center, so that was a plus.  The plan now is to take our loving puppy to the place we were all most happy together, and spread her ashes near the mouth of the Brule River on the shores of Lake Superior during out next visit.

Team Panetti Tackles the Motherland!

In April, we had a fantastic trip to Italy to celebrate our 25^th wedding anniversary (technically not until May, but the timing also coincided with the kids’ Spring Break).  Kate and I met Tommy and Sophie in Rome where we stayed for three nights, and then we traveled to the medieval town of San Gimignano, Florence and Venice for a couple days each.  So while we did the pretty typical ten-day, skip-across-the-surface, see-all-the-big-tourist-sites kind of a trip, we had such a good time it’s hard to even describe.  Stopping in little piazza’s for a coffee or an afternoon glass of wine, walking outside on the old cobblestoned streets window shopping and people watching, taking in the unimaginable history, just generally relaxing in the Italian spring has to have been the best family trip we’ve taken to date.

Trevi Fountain in Rome

The Coliseum

Inside the Coliseum

Photo classico!  Caio bella!

One of my favorite pictures:  My girls with old Italian men in Orvieto.

Overlooking a valley in Orvieto.

In the old medieval city of San Gimignano.

The Ponte Vecchio in Florence.

Visiting the old homestead of Florence.

Venice

Family duck-face selfie in Venice.

Having a wine outside Il Duomo in Florence.

At the Vatican Museums.

Le travail

My work in the Consulate has, perhaps somewhat obviously, got me thinking a lot about the immigrant experience lately.  Like any job, the major tasks of interviewing and processing visa applicant files can occasionally get a bit tedious.  Asking similar questions and getting similar answers can even be boring from time to time.  But when I step back from the daily routine and consider what these people are really doing – or trying to do, as the case may be – I’m often pretty impressed.

Of course the immigrant experience is different for everyone, but I often reflect on what these people are about to do, and am sometimes filled with awe and admiration for the risks they take.  In the best of worlds it is difficult to imagine giving up everything you know – family, friends, life, work, culture and country, all of it – to move to a foreign country and start anew.  When the average Haitian makes $2 per day and has an average of about a fourth grade education, it’s clear that Haitians often are not making their decision to immigrate under anything like the best of circumstances.  Of course they are not making their way to the US totally without family connections, and like immigrant groups always and everywhere, Haitians tend to settle where there are other Haitians.  But I often wonder if the 30-year-old woman or the middle-aged man, moving to the United States with almost no education and therefore few employment prospects, really has any real idea what they’re in for once they arrive.  What moxie these people must have.

Not Exactly NSFW

The advances in technology and their ability to constantly increase the speed of life have encouraged an explosion of acronyms and initialisms that would make the federal government envious.  In the online world one I see one occasionally which reads “NSFW.”  Of course I was confused, and then I looked it up on the Internet.  Evidently this means “Not Safe For Work,” indicating that the story contains inappropriate material which might get one in a spot of trouble with one’s employer if viewed at work.  Of course it does.

We in the IV section, on the other hand, routinely – and as a matter of course in the performance of our duties – come across material that would most assuredly qualify as NSFW in virtually any other situation.  A typical example happened to me just the other day.  I was reviewing the file of an IR1, the spouse of an American citizen.  The applicant was a woman of about 30 and the petitioner was her husband of about three years who lives in the US.  You might recall that a petition requires many things, including financial support, a clean medical report, passport, legal documents like a birth and a marriage certificate, things like that.  In addition, it is often required that the applicant supply information that would provide proof of a real, ongoing relationship, such as receipts for money transfers between the petitioner and the applicant, printed emails between the two, airline tickets and passport stamps indicating a visit to the other party, or perhaps family photographs.

It won’t require much imagination to think about the type of photographs one might provide to a complete stranger that would help to prove an ongoing marital relationship, such as pictures together on vacation, with family and friends, at the moment of the marriage proposal or their wedding, with their children and extended family, that sort of thing.  Improvements in technology have not only increased the number of unintelligible words and acronyms for an old codger like me, but have also made accessible a wide variety of small cameras in things like mobile phones, which are ubiquitous in the developing world.  So while the average Haitian may only earn $700 a year or so, they most certainly have a cell phone and therefore access to a camera of some sort, and can easily provide photographs to support their claim of being married.

Of course you can see where this is going.  Included in my applicants file were photos of the happy couple together at the civil court office for the wedding ceremony, having dinner at a restaurant, at the beach, and in various states of undress while lying on the bed together, including one rather, ahem, ‘compromising position’ which would very likely make Hugh Hefner blush.  Curiously, these sorts of photos appear in an applicant’s file more often than you might think, unfortunately.  It appears to be the case that applicants for immigrant visas believe such explicit and semi-explicit photos will help to prove to the Consular Officer that they are in a real relationship.  Ummmm… no.

In this most recent case, I administered the oath and conducted the interview as normal, asking about their relationship, when they first met, how he asked her to marry him, what the wedding was like, how they maintain a marriage from afar, like that.  It seemed to me they likely do have a real relationship, and as she was missing a document of some kind, I was going to have to put off a final decision until she returned with that document, and therefore I needed to explain this to her before letting her go.  After all was said and done, I then asked her why she submitted explicit photographs.  She seemed a bit confused so I helped her to understand what I meant by showing her one in particular.  She seemed rather embarrassed, and I asked why she thought I would want to see such photos.  She rather sheepishly said it was because she heard it would prove their relationship, just as I suspected.  I then asked her if her mother would like to see such photos of her, to which she visibly recoiled at such a preposterous suggestion.  Ever the helpful Consular Officer, I reminded her – perhaps a bit too loudly over the microphone – that now the entire waiting room knew she submitted such photos, and not only that but all of my colleagues who work in the IV section knew as well.  I kindly suggested to her that maybe she could tell her friends that these kinds of photos are not only unnecessary but unwanted, and that I really didn’t find them helpful in making my decision.  Pretty sure she avoided all eye contact with the guards and those still in the waiting room as she slinked out the door. 

Like we find ourselves saying all too often, you can’t make this shit up.

Speaking of the Internets

As Foreign Service Officers in the service of our country and working for the federal government, we sometimes have to be careful of what we say and to whom we say it.  We sign a document approximately twelve times in the first days of the career saying that we agree to go wherever the State Department needs us; that we agree to serve in whatever job needed; and that we agree to support US policy publicly, even if we personally disagree with said policy.  It’s not that we are forbidden from expressing personal opinions, it’s just that when acting in our official capacity in public fora we are always “on” and required to support the current administration.

My job doesn’t often require such commitments, although I have done a couple radio shows.  And this blog doesn’t qualify as acting in my official capacity, although since it’s out there traversing through that series of tubes it happens to be quite public.  So it’s sort of a grey area when it comes to the blogosphere, and of course the State Department has rules and regulations regarding what we can and cannot say or post about in personal blogs.  Given that mine is more of a personal narrative and travelogue, I don’t have much about which to be concerned.

Recently I posted an entry, on a Sunday afternoon, I think.  On Tuesday I was asked by Washington via my manager – asked not commanded, and politely and respectfully I might add – to edit a small portion of my post by removing some details that might have allowed my two readers to identify the subject of a story I was sharing.  I wasn’t too surprised about this, as I very deliberately tried to tell the story with some accuracy and detail while at the same time avoiding too much detail about any one individual.  I knew it was kind of on the edge, but felt I was erring enough on the side of caution to avoid any problems. 

The part that did surprise me though, was that there are actually more than two other people out there reading this drivel.  And to the two guys sitting in some windowless basement office back in Washington, tasked with reading through such long-winded malarkey:  Howdy! I owe you guys a beer or two next time I visit…

Crazy Story of the Day:  Two for the Price of One!

Today your intrepid correspondent brings you two stories of craziness and nonsense.  The first is a cautionary tale of “chikuns” and eggs, the second involves a small Haitian town “without equal.”

As if the folks living in these latitudes needed another malady with which to deal, there exists now in the tropics a new pestilence sweeping the island of Hispaniola called “chikungunya,” another mosquito-borne virus with no remedy, treatment or cure.  Similar to dengue, symptoms include days of fever and painful, sometimes severe and debilitating, joint pain.  Mosquito control and prevention of bites by infected insects are the only ways to avoid contracting chikungunya, and treatment is limited to rest, liquids and ibuprofen or acetaminophen.

Unfortunately the arrival and spread of this little bugger on the island was quite rapid, and people in Haiti are falling ill to chikungunya in large numbers.  Embassy employees are perhaps more informed than most about the disease, but knowledge alone isn’t always enough to prevent the spread in such a hot and humid climate, and many colleagues have also become sick over the past month or so.

The impact on staffing at business and employers has been rather dramatic, which of course includes the Embassy.  As my colleague tells this tale, one day she went to the cafeteria in the Embassy to buy some breakfast.  Omelets are a regular item on the menu, and my colleague went to the cashier to place her order for a plain one.

“Sorry ma’am,” she was told gravely and in all seriousness, “our plain omelet chef is out sick with the chikungunya.  However, if you want a ham and cheese omelet, we can certainly whip up  one of those for you in no time!”

:/

* * * * *

On the north coast of Haiti there is a town called Cap Haitien, a port town of about 200,000 souls.  As a small working port, there obviously exists on the waterfront a pier for the loading and unloading of goods and people.

About four years ago the pier was rebuilt using steel and aluminum construction.  Evidently this is not a good combination, particularly when placed in salty sea water.  The Internet tells me, as it happens, that the most common form of galvanic corrosion of aluminum alloys occur when aluminum is joined with steel or copper and exposed to a wet saline environment.  Guess they didn’t consult the Interwebs when building this pier, for earlier this week the pier in Cap succumbed to science and simply collapsed.

Now my friend Aaron, using his new dad-voice and in his new role in telling awesome dad-jokes, says that Cap Haitien is a city without equals, because it is pier-less. 

Ba-dum-bum.

N a we pita!

The kids have closed another chapter back in Minnesota as they recently finished the school year at Gustavus Adolphus College.

Sophie had a good, strong start to her college experience last fall after her gap year in Washington and Haiti, and just days ago returned to Haiti for a couple of months to be a summer intern back at the Embassy.  This year she’ll be working in the American Citizen Services unit, meaning 75% of the Panetti family will be working in the Consulate for the next six or eight weeks.

Tommy finished his junior year, and within two days of his last final embarked on a cross-country trip with Kate to start an internship of his own at the US Coast Guard Training Center in Yorktown, Virginia.  Until August he will be working as a full-time Morale, Well-being and Recreation intern, which he absolutely loves so far.

We’re hoping to reunite Team Panetti for the July 4 holiday here in Haiti, and so once again put us all in the same place at the same time.

Life for us is good, and we hope you can say the same.

Enjoying our visit to the 152 year old Barbancourt Rhum factory, complete with free tastings!