Easter Sunday

Baptisms Easter Sunday

My first praise of the day: we had electricity at 4:45 am so I could make coffee in my room before leaving for an early-morning service with a group of missionaries. One highlight: a family of four sang a song in harmony with bluegrass-style guitar. We ended with a breakfast feast which included cinnamon rolls, mmm. I also got to connect with some people I've never really talked to before, nice.

Then my church -- the pastor read a message from the Monsignor, including how to place our hope and trust in God in a country that had the January 12 (2010) earthquake and then cholera, and in a world that just experienced the Japan earthquake and new civil wars. I also had time to reflect on the fact that whoever thought that choir robes should be adopted in a Caribbean nation was nuts.

As I write, my neighbor's church is baptizing people in the ocean near me with lots of celebratory music. A British acquaintance was standing next to me for awhile. In the pageantry of the baptisms he saw tools used to placate and cheaply entertain people. He also commented that it was ironic that in a symbol of cleansing, people are actually dipping into what amounts to a cess pool. It is icky -- it's always icky, and we see people swimming in it every day. But I thought: well, baptism is symbolic of being baptized into Christ's death and then being raised with him, maybe that's not so inappropriate.

The best part of the day? Greeting everyone for Easter, hearing stories of how they have celebrated. Where I live everyone still has to work today, but they all had stories of special things done at church last night or this morning that made them smile. We take time out to watch the baptisms, comment on the music, greet each other with kisses and "Happy Easter." We share brief comments on what it means that Jesus is risen.

And I sit here in the shade, enjoying the ocean breeze and the blue sky, looking at a hummingbird, a fully-laden mango tree, and two other flowering trees, trying to grasp what it really means that death is no more. That it has really been conquered. That the beautiful things that we see in the world are part of the future breaking in to the present, they are the presence of the kingdom that is here and not yet. In Friday's sermon the pastor spoke of the cross, and one of the things he said was that the cross has crushed the power of darkness (kwa a te kraze tout fòs fenwa). This is clearly a "here and not yet" in a land of cholera, malnourished kids, bursts of violence, denuded mountains. But that's what I see. Because this is also a land of flowers, of beauty, of dignity, and of laughter. Alleluia! He is risen!

Mangoes

This is a collection of fruit I had at one point last week. The brown one is custard apple, the spiky one is soursop, and the rest are delectable mangoes (ripe, despite their green-ness).

I love mangoes. The season just started last week and I have been eating about three per day. I might have even had four once. They are seriously incredibly amazingly good. My day started out with "custard apple," though, another yummy fruit. Memene, who washes my clothes, brought me some as a gift this morning.

Then my work day started, with a meeting with the logistics guy for IOM. We needed to change a request order we'd put in for cholera supplies due to space and availability issues. Then we received boxes and boxes of soap, buckets, jerry cans, and chlorine. For free. Again. This is just so fabulous! With the first shipment we received we were able to supply our oral rehydration posts (which provide oral rehydration salts to cholera patients in rural areas as they are on their way to treatment centers), then some of our community health workers and a couple of schools. Now it looks like we might be able to supply all of our volunteer workers and some committee members, plus two hospitals in the northeast -- they'll get oral rehydration salts and IV solution as well, and get it all transported for free by the World Food Program!

This is the cholera treatment center for the rural hospital in Bois de Laurence in the northeast. We stopped by there last week.

Last week my colleague Solencia had two people in her family, both young, die. The causes were unknown, which is common. She had to leave early today to go to her cousin's funeral. We prayed for her and her family with her before she left.

Due to virus problems and varying solutions, my main computer was my netbook, then my laptop, then my netbook, then my laptop again. Lately my laptop has been acting up (I think it's old) and since I'd recently managed to back up everything I only copied a couple of recent documents and started using primarily the netbook. Well, today I realized one of the documents on my netbook wasn't the latest version. So I needed to access the laptop. But Linux won't run on the laptop with the SD card I have, and I found out today that a CD I'd burned won't run on it either. So I had to shut off my netbook to use the flash drive with which I'd been running Linux on it. And I got frustrated. Blah.

The report I'd been looking for was on our oral rehydration posts, I needed to add the latest data and send it to the health department. In March, the 39 posts that reported in saw 119 cases of cholera. (These are the numbers for the posts we have, many people thankfully can make it directly to cholera treatment centers, or stop by other posts.) Some sites had seen no cases, but cholera has increased recently in some areas, in part exacerbated by drought making it more difficult for people to incorporate hygiene techniques.

Here's a house we passed by last week in the northeast, an area that's really been suffering from the drought, with SODIS bottles on the roof. Yup, turns out one of our community health workers goes to this house, and they now use this free method to get clean drinking water!

I'm working on solidifying travel within the US for my three-month trip this summer. The connections from Minneapolis to Detroit are ridiculous, and it will take me just as long in terms of travel if I fly to Chicago instead, hang out with Mark and Julie, then take a train the next day to Detroit. Seriously?

Tomorrow's a holiday (Good Friday), so I won't see my colleague Evelyne again until Monday. She started a school in her village a few years ago and needed to send off the budget to some potential partners. I'd agreed to translate it into English for her. We finished just before 7 pm. Which is when I realized that I'd missed yet another Lenten service. Sigh.

Which means I'll just have to eat more mangoes and practice the cello (the music school where I conduct and teach piano lets me borrow a cello!).

Moolah

Have I mentioned anything about the money used in Haiti? The currency is called "gourd," and it used to be tied to the US dollar, at 5 gourdes per dollar. So, people started referring to 5 gourdes as "one dollar" or "one Haitian dollar." It's no longer tied to the dollar, it's now about 40 gourdes to the US dollar.

Why is this history important? People still call 5 gourdes a Haitian dollar (HT). And they speak in terms of Haitian dollars much more than in gourdes. This is a mathematical nightmare for me. I mean, 100 HT is fine, that's 500 gourdes, no problem. But in the market they'll say something is 65 HT -- that's not so easy to do quickly. And this week my colleague cashed a check and came back with "1875 dollars." I count 9375 gourdes and know it's all there (after taking out my calculator).

I usually talk in gourdes, because I haven't been able to understand how people easily go back and forth. This got me into trouble once when I asked a colleague to give me "400" of phone credit. A few minutes later I got a text that I'd received 1818.18. I was completely confused until I realized that she thought I'd wanted 400 HT, or 2000 gourdes, and then the phone company took its cut.

So, I've been wondering for awhile how everyone does it, talking in Haitian dollars. They have just told me "it's easy." But yesterday I finally got some insight! I watched my colleague Evelyne count some money. She held a 500 gourd bill and I saw her lips move "100," then a 250 gourd bill and I saw her murmur "50." At the end she knew the amount in Haitian dollars. So what she's doing is looking at a bill that has "500" stamped on it and thinking "100."

This actually gives me hope. I actually might be able to do this if I translate each bill in my head, not the total. Especially for receiving change. No, really, I think this could work.

Mangos

I'm reading the minutes of a meeting I missed last week: “Dans la perspective d’une recrudescence du nombre de cas avec l’arrivée de la saison des mangues, des spots de prévention sont en préparation au niveau du MSPP. Ces messages s’adressent particulièrement aux enfants qui sont les populations les plus à risques pendant cette saison des mangues.”

So I ask my colleagues, “Is 'saison des mangues' what I think it is? Mango season? And if so, why are we having to increase our cholera prevention messages for that, and why are children more at risk?

Turns out there are mango trees everywhere in the rural areas (heaven?). Lots of people, and most children, just pick up mangos whenever they're hungry and eat them without washing either the mangos or their hands. There are also too many mangoes to sell, and so they rot and flies accumulate. Apparently “everyone knows” that diarrheal diseases greatly increase in mango season.