The six bus convoy makes its way across the border and we leave all the tarantulas, cockroaches and some happier families behind as we head towards a shower and a bed for the night in Puerta Plata. I have come away with Builder’s Foot and Masonry Hair, those boots wont be going back on for a while and a hot shower wont go astray. It’s nearly a five hour journey and I am entertained for most of it by Ronan Plumber in Chief, until the Haiti fatigue takes over and I drop off into deep sleep. We are both agreed that Ireland’s recession is the reason we were able to make time to plan this trip. Fundraising wasn’t easy for anybody and some funded themselves to get here and came early to prepare the site for the rest of us. Those of us in the construction industry are not as busy as we used to be and long may it continue that we find the time and energy to give ourselves to those who need a hand up.
Three hundred Irish, a Scot and a Frenchman on their last night together – after dinner and speeches, it was off to the Hallowe’en party in the hotel night club. At last some real drinks! Prestige, our Haitian beer on site was grand, our lot must have drunk Haiti dry, but I’ll be glad not to see another can for a year........ which must mean that we are already considering coming back..
Dancing in coffins in the club ended at around 3am, the volunteers going back to Dublin had to be on their bus for 5am, so, clearly, the thing to do was go into town to the local night club. Our dedicated water girl Sarah volunteered to go and get them back, I can’t give you a first-hand report from there, we had been on the go for nearly 24 hours at that stage and it was the real bed that won out. But I’m happy to report by Sunday 1 November, 50 of our sturdiest party stalwarts made it from that club directly to the bus and airport...
What kept me going all week was the thought of a few days recovery in neighbouring Dominican Republic, where I and queen of the plumbers stuck a pin in the map and found a hotel in Cabarete, the kite surfing capital of the world. As luck would have it, two of the other volunteers were coming here as well (they’ll be the guys emptying the mountain of socks out of their surfboard bags on the video). Leslie’s son Paddy, Ed, Susan and I all piled into a taxi and headed along the Atlantic coast for another hour, the guys for the kitesurfing and us to collapse under a parasol.
Our jaws dropped when we got to our hotel, standing in the foyer, we could see the big blue ocean and coconut trees swaying a few metres away. We’d made it!
Susan and I had learned to live with two items of clothes a day, the most basic of washing and sleeping and non-stop work, we were now faced with options – eating, swimming, drinking, walks on beach, browsing in shops – after only one week, we realised how little we could do with and didn’t know where to start...... by the end of the day, having had a look around Cabarete, we were fascinated at how different the two cultures on the same island could be. In Haiti, there are a lot of questions to answer, hopefully, as Haven and Irish volunteers continue to go there, we will help them to help themselves.
I have to thank all my donors for sending me out on Build it Week for Haven and Haiti – Mick, Johnny, Stephen, Peter C, Peter F, Pete C, Manfredi, Liam, Tim, Hilary, Paul and Geoff
I dedicate these blogs to my two sons Cameron and Finlay, and hope they will be inspired to come out next year, as they are two strong, able-bodied party men themselves and I hope my own house is still standing when I get home.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Haiti Day 6
The generator blew up because of overload and 45 degree heat – but the volunteers haven’t dropped yet. Hard to believe we are still up at 5.30 after the very late and stupendously successful Haven’s Got Talent. It was full of surprises, not least for one woman whose boyfriend got up to play the Lonely Boatman on his tin whistle, and then proceeded to recite a poem. While we all thought, nice idea but not really appropriate for the kind of entertainment we need right now, the poem went on, me thinking it was a tribute to his mother, only to end with him taking something out of his pocket and making a very novel and public marriage proposal to the unsuspecting girlfriend. If you could capture the look of shock on all the girls in the room, and the resounding applause and cheers – it was the first OMG moment of the night. The finale, which apparently was on youtube within half an hour, was the FULL Full monty, with a cracking line up of Haven’s Finest. They were the Finishes Team and what a finish, they won of course, and gamely gave us an encore to remember.
Saturday morning and some of us are still working to get the houses ready for handover to the families, each team has prepared a house and we have left a variety of sleeping bags, tools, boots, torches, towels and goodies in them. All are painted and the doors festooned with ribbons, each family has arrived dressed in their finest, there is a mixture of bewilderment and relief, tears and many cheers, when each ribbon is cut. After hours of ceremony in the killing midday heat we move on to open the playground, and the rush of children in to try out the slides and swings for the first time, make the weeks toil so worth it. For these children, it is not the roof on the house that makes all the difference but the play space dedicated solely to them. I think I’m too hot and tired to get emotional about the handover, these are happy moments for the families and I need all my energy just to keep moving, it isn’t until we go down to the school and during Leslie’s speech to open the basketball court that I have to reach for the hem of my t-shirt. At 65, he tells us this is the second happiest day of his life, after his wedding day, and dedicates the basketball court to a brave sportsman, Stuart Mannion, in whose memory a plaque is erected. The overflowing goodness, untiring enthusiasm of the sticky, hot and smelly volunteers has come full circle. We make our way to our buses and one more long journey to the Dominican Republic.
During the week our teams had started their own initiatives to help many of the families and orphans we met. Declan, one of the head foremen, told us all about the condition of the toilet block in the school and proposed a small donation from each of us – to arrange to build 6 new cubicles, with running water. This plan got even more ambitious and cost effective, when Ronan Plumber in Chief got involved and devised a plan to link the pump and generator from the houses to the school. That day we raised double the amount required, over six thousand dollars, and that meant we could expand the power and water facilities to the houses as well. After one of our visits to a local family who could not afford to send their children to school, the Painting Team, spearheaded by my painting mate, Brendan, raised enough funds to send each of them to school for five years to ensure they all finish their education, the money is given over to Farah, the local community liaison, who will make all the arrangements and keep us up to date.
Monaghan Muriel of the infamous Plumbing and Electrical Team rounded up the lads for a few quick-fire sessions of Texas Hold-Em, with her inimitable scamming techniques she relieved them of 1,000 dollars which, with great pride and love, was given to Mauviette for her orphanage. Through other anonymous donations, Leslie announced that a house is now being bought for the orphanage to house 100 children. Change has come.
Saturday morning and some of us are still working to get the houses ready for handover to the families, each team has prepared a house and we have left a variety of sleeping bags, tools, boots, torches, towels and goodies in them. All are painted and the doors festooned with ribbons, each family has arrived dressed in their finest, there is a mixture of bewilderment and relief, tears and many cheers, when each ribbon is cut. After hours of ceremony in the killing midday heat we move on to open the playground, and the rush of children in to try out the slides and swings for the first time, make the weeks toil so worth it. For these children, it is not the roof on the house that makes all the difference but the play space dedicated solely to them. I think I’m too hot and tired to get emotional about the handover, these are happy moments for the families and I need all my energy just to keep moving, it isn’t until we go down to the school and during Leslie’s speech to open the basketball court that I have to reach for the hem of my t-shirt. At 65, he tells us this is the second happiest day of his life, after his wedding day, and dedicates the basketball court to a brave sportsman, Stuart Mannion, in whose memory a plaque is erected. The overflowing goodness, untiring enthusiasm of the sticky, hot and smelly volunteers has come full circle. We make our way to our buses and one more long journey to the Dominican Republic.
During the week our teams had started their own initiatives to help many of the families and orphans we met. Declan, one of the head foremen, told us all about the condition of the toilet block in the school and proposed a small donation from each of us – to arrange to build 6 new cubicles, with running water. This plan got even more ambitious and cost effective, when Ronan Plumber in Chief got involved and devised a plan to link the pump and generator from the houses to the school. That day we raised double the amount required, over six thousand dollars, and that meant we could expand the power and water facilities to the houses as well. After one of our visits to a local family who could not afford to send their children to school, the Painting Team, spearheaded by my painting mate, Brendan, raised enough funds to send each of them to school for five years to ensure they all finish their education, the money is given over to Farah, the local community liaison, who will make all the arrangements and keep us up to date.
Monaghan Muriel of the infamous Plumbing and Electrical Team rounded up the lads for a few quick-fire sessions of Texas Hold-Em, with her inimitable scamming techniques she relieved them of 1,000 dollars which, with great pride and love, was given to Mauviette for her orphanage. Through other anonymous donations, Leslie announced that a house is now being bought for the orphanage to house 100 children. Change has come.
Haiti Day 5
It’s 3pm Friday afternoon and hard to believe it’s our last working day. There’s a big push on to meet our target and even getting to write this blog has had to be postponed. I’ve been on site for nine hours, and with rest breaks needed for just that; thinking, never mind writing is a challenge. My roommate and I agree that we have reached the point of being truly mingin’, nothing else can describe the grime encrusted skin and we don’t understand how aid workers manage for months in this heat and these conditions. Though what has been done this week would never be undertaken under normal circumstances, twelve new houses have been fully completed from foundation on Monday and the other 188 houses are being finished out and painted as I write. A playground has been built and must be the only place with swings and slides in northern Haiti. The new class room is built and painted, the basket ball court finished, mango trees planted. Hundreds of locals have come on site this week and worked alongside us, ate alongside us, and last night danced and drank alongside us. A popular Haitian band with their voudou priest lead singer rocked the place and we must be acclimatising as the party went on until at least midnight. Everybody is quieter today, more to do with the pressure of finishing off and getting the site ready for handover to the beneficiaries tomorrow.
Before the band came on last night I had been on catering duty, not, I hasten to add, doing anything creative in the kitchen. It gave me a chance to see the volunteers from the other side of the counter. Standing in one spot for two hours dishing out carrots and peas, rhubarb and custard is definitely more painful than holding the paintbrush. Alan, our Marco Pierre White, took me out to see his own secret haven, the cold store container, a great chill out moment. This is where he stores his chicken sourced from Santiago in Dominican Republic and meat from Miami, and his deadly doughnuts. He has taken three weeks annual leave at his own expense to come out here and get the kitchen built (which will be a community centre when we leave). He designed it, sourced the equipment himself and unpackaged the units the night we arrived and was setting it up overnight in time for our first breakfast. Earlier in the year he visited Santiago as it turned out to be the best source of food and his suppliers there were so impressed with the project that much of the produce is supplied at cost.
Before going on catering duty I went off-site and off road with John Henry, head of security, who drove myself and three of our volunteers from Portlaoise to visit families way off the beaten track. First we drove to the border and as it was still daylight we got out and walked the no-mans land between Dominican Republic and Haiti. Divided by a bridge over the river, the border closes at certain times during the day so we have to time our crossing on Saturday to ensure we get through. This procedure involves our luggage being loaded on to a truck at 7am tomorrow and taken to the border to be individually inspected. Our big box of passports goes on ahead of us and we will then be inspected one by one on the bus, movement is not easy between the two countries, where little love is lost between the two sides. When the border gates are locked we see the Haitian people wading back from Dominican Republic through the river, where they wash clothes, and bathe as well. It is a sight I didn’t expect to see in a region so close to the ‘developed’ world. We drive back through Ouanaminthe and over fields to some ramshackle homes where we can distribute some of the gifts we have brought and I have managed to find some local gourde currency from our on-site phone top-up men, so we can leave a little help behind.
I haven’t mentioned the medical team so far, thankfully, I haven’t had to visit them and there hasn’t been an ambulance moment yet. The worst cases have been serious spider bites – two guys got bitten and had dramatic reaction. The danger about this site, over and above the insects is that it was land which had been used as the local latrine, and while earth has been moved and layers and layers of soil has been added, with all the new digging going on, we have to be more vigilant about cuts and bites. The advice we got about thick socks and boots all makes sense, though the head torch we were advised to buy luckily hasn’t been needed as the generator is not switched off at night time, though it has just exploded a few minutes ago and is causing a minor sensation outside. Tonight’s barbecue and Haven’s Got Talent is looking dubious until the back-up is sorted, the internet connection is down too ..... and with that, I am heading back to my painting team to finish off the last few walls and rehearse our performance for tonight, where there will be fierce competition from Ronan, Plumber in Chief... more soon
Before the band came on last night I had been on catering duty, not, I hasten to add, doing anything creative in the kitchen. It gave me a chance to see the volunteers from the other side of the counter. Standing in one spot for two hours dishing out carrots and peas, rhubarb and custard is definitely more painful than holding the paintbrush. Alan, our Marco Pierre White, took me out to see his own secret haven, the cold store container, a great chill out moment. This is where he stores his chicken sourced from Santiago in Dominican Republic and meat from Miami, and his deadly doughnuts. He has taken three weeks annual leave at his own expense to come out here and get the kitchen built (which will be a community centre when we leave). He designed it, sourced the equipment himself and unpackaged the units the night we arrived and was setting it up overnight in time for our first breakfast. Earlier in the year he visited Santiago as it turned out to be the best source of food and his suppliers there were so impressed with the project that much of the produce is supplied at cost.
Before going on catering duty I went off-site and off road with John Henry, head of security, who drove myself and three of our volunteers from Portlaoise to visit families way off the beaten track. First we drove to the border and as it was still daylight we got out and walked the no-mans land between Dominican Republic and Haiti. Divided by a bridge over the river, the border closes at certain times during the day so we have to time our crossing on Saturday to ensure we get through. This procedure involves our luggage being loaded on to a truck at 7am tomorrow and taken to the border to be individually inspected. Our big box of passports goes on ahead of us and we will then be inspected one by one on the bus, movement is not easy between the two countries, where little love is lost between the two sides. When the border gates are locked we see the Haitian people wading back from Dominican Republic through the river, where they wash clothes, and bathe as well. It is a sight I didn’t expect to see in a region so close to the ‘developed’ world. We drive back through Ouanaminthe and over fields to some ramshackle homes where we can distribute some of the gifts we have brought and I have managed to find some local gourde currency from our on-site phone top-up men, so we can leave a little help behind.
I haven’t mentioned the medical team so far, thankfully, I haven’t had to visit them and there hasn’t been an ambulance moment yet. The worst cases have been serious spider bites – two guys got bitten and had dramatic reaction. The danger about this site, over and above the insects is that it was land which had been used as the local latrine, and while earth has been moved and layers and layers of soil has been added, with all the new digging going on, we have to be more vigilant about cuts and bites. The advice we got about thick socks and boots all makes sense, though the head torch we were advised to buy luckily hasn’t been needed as the generator is not switched off at night time, though it has just exploded a few minutes ago and is causing a minor sensation outside. Tonight’s barbecue and Haven’s Got Talent is looking dubious until the back-up is sorted, the internet connection is down too ..... and with that, I am heading back to my painting team to finish off the last few walls and rehearse our performance for tonight, where there will be fierce competition from Ronan, Plumber in Chief... more soon
Haiti Day 4
In the great white tented village where 300 hundred of us are fed and watered four times a day – all at the same time, the catering crew perform minor miracles with full Irish breakfasts and at least a choice of four dishes for dinner. Our Haitian co-workers seem to relish the bacon, egg, beans and sausage as much as our burly labourers. If we think it’s hot and sweaty out on site, the kitchen is even more gruelling in the heat. Ably patrolled by Sgt Alan McKenna on loan from the army aided by gregarious George Hook who doubles up as MC a lot of the time and the kitchen is given a splash of 4-star from John Brennan. We all started off with our own set of plastic bowl, plate, cup and cutlery, to be brought up every day and washed outside. By day 3 most of us are down to a paper cup and spoon. Way too many things to remember – I now realise why so many of my sons lunch boxes go astray. This trip may make me more understanding in many ways.....
In the evening when we think we will collapse from heat and lack of sleep, though I am managing to sleep through the cockerel now, or maybe the stock has depleted......it is in the big white tent that the table quiz, karaoke and general party pieces take place and, yes, the standard and content is diverse to say the least, but as I wouldn’t get up on stage in a month of Sundays, nor would my friend be persuaded to duet, I take my hat off to any who do. On Wednesday night our local workers were stunned in silence at the breadth of singing talent from their visitors – or maybe bewildered at our facility to sing everything from Elvis and sean nós, or maybe just thought we were all nuts.
I spent the morning painting at the back of the site alongside our UN patrol from Uruguay, who manfully watched over us making sure we didn’t miss a patch. Julio Iglesias is their local commander, I might add. This part of the site boundary overlooks tropical palms and we suddenly remember that we are in the Caribbean, other than the relentless sun beating down on our boot camp, there is little to remind one of the glamour and exoticism of Caribbean holiday life. If anybody came out here thinking it was a mini-break with some good works thrown in they will have been instantly disabused of the idea. Our outside loo broke yesterday, a truck ran over the pipe, even though my room-mate is (all names have been changed) Sheba, queen of the plumbers, it’s taking two days to fix, trenches have to be hand dug as we don’t have a mini-digger. But such is the democracy on this site, it’s pick a loo, any loo.
We have co-founder Carmel Buckley on our painting team, who is here along with her daughter, son and nephew. There are many family groups of father and daughter or son, husband and wife and various in-laws. All of whom will pack up – a lot more lightly – and fly straight back to Dublin on Sunday after 7 days of this marathon build. My room-mate and I hope to travel more lightly as well, although one huge mistake we made coming out sits taunting us every time we get back to our room, not one, but two copies of the biggest novel published recently, Wolf Hall, the Booker prize winner. We thought we’d be smart and read ahead for our book club (Double Dee Book Club has a facebook page). This book is not just a door stop it’s a door step and may well serve as a foundation stone out here.
We hear we are on target as of yesterday which is very motivating. As work gets finished in other areas, we have labourers from other teams joining the painters, the spirit of help and goodwill is endless. At our press conference yesterday, local and national Haitian politicians and NGO’s joined in embracing Haven’s initiative and it is not only the Irish who are working with this community, Jean Maurice from Port au Prince, a mango plantation owner, has donated hundreds of mango trees to create a sustainable income-generating business here. The Haitian speakers certainly make us feel welcome and we are reminded that the manner in which Lesley Buckley has handled the State structure in such a short time is all part of this success story. The plan is still to complete 200 before Christmas and double this for next year.
More soon...
In the evening when we think we will collapse from heat and lack of sleep, though I am managing to sleep through the cockerel now, or maybe the stock has depleted......it is in the big white tent that the table quiz, karaoke and general party pieces take place and, yes, the standard and content is diverse to say the least, but as I wouldn’t get up on stage in a month of Sundays, nor would my friend be persuaded to duet, I take my hat off to any who do. On Wednesday night our local workers were stunned in silence at the breadth of singing talent from their visitors – or maybe bewildered at our facility to sing everything from Elvis and sean nós, or maybe just thought we were all nuts.
I spent the morning painting at the back of the site alongside our UN patrol from Uruguay, who manfully watched over us making sure we didn’t miss a patch. Julio Iglesias is their local commander, I might add. This part of the site boundary overlooks tropical palms and we suddenly remember that we are in the Caribbean, other than the relentless sun beating down on our boot camp, there is little to remind one of the glamour and exoticism of Caribbean holiday life. If anybody came out here thinking it was a mini-break with some good works thrown in they will have been instantly disabused of the idea. Our outside loo broke yesterday, a truck ran over the pipe, even though my room-mate is (all names have been changed) Sheba, queen of the plumbers, it’s taking two days to fix, trenches have to be hand dug as we don’t have a mini-digger. But such is the democracy on this site, it’s pick a loo, any loo.
We have co-founder Carmel Buckley on our painting team, who is here along with her daughter, son and nephew. There are many family groups of father and daughter or son, husband and wife and various in-laws. All of whom will pack up – a lot more lightly – and fly straight back to Dublin on Sunday after 7 days of this marathon build. My room-mate and I hope to travel more lightly as well, although one huge mistake we made coming out sits taunting us every time we get back to our room, not one, but two copies of the biggest novel published recently, Wolf Hall, the Booker prize winner. We thought we’d be smart and read ahead for our book club (Double Dee Book Club has a facebook page). This book is not just a door stop it’s a door step and may well serve as a foundation stone out here.
We hear we are on target as of yesterday which is very motivating. As work gets finished in other areas, we have labourers from other teams joining the painters, the spirit of help and goodwill is endless. At our press conference yesterday, local and national Haitian politicians and NGO’s joined in embracing Haven’s initiative and it is not only the Irish who are working with this community, Jean Maurice from Port au Prince, a mango plantation owner, has donated hundreds of mango trees to create a sustainable income-generating business here. The Haitian speakers certainly make us feel welcome and we are reminded that the manner in which Lesley Buckley has handled the State structure in such a short time is all part of this success story. The plan is still to complete 200 before Christmas and double this for next year.
More soon...
Haiti Day 3
Really getting the hang of this deprivation now. No wardrobe crises to speak of, one Haven Painter t-shirt per day, site boots and shorts, life couldn’t be simpler and energy levels are stabilising. A chair has been appropriated from our mess tent and now we can take little ‘sitting in front of the fan’ breaks when it all gets too hot.
It’s Tuesday morning and after three hours on site I take a walk down to Mr Wilson’s school (for it is he who spawned this social housing idea with Leslie Buckley) to see the children at their 10 O’Clock break. Children of all ages in their formal and pristine uniform are out in the shade of the trees, performing their ‘drill’ which is one of their characteristic dance routines. My friend and I have decided they must have a few extra vertebrae as the girls would put Beyonce in the shade with their cool moves. The volunteers down in this part of the site are quite literally doing Trojan work; girls who haven’t lifted anything heavier than an emery board are mixing cement and hauling blocks in stifling heat.
The children love being photographed and seeing their picture on the screen, and again I am struck by their beauty and poise. I hadn’t realised quite how distant Creole was from standard French and it is with limited vocabulary that we try to communicate. As if one needed reminding, it is education that frees us and empowers us, and by extending this school and hopefully extending their education programme, it will give these children more hope and options for their future. Haven Partnership is also building a playground and basketball court here and all is expected to be finished by Friday, I think well done to these volunteers as I head back to my paintbrush and roller and a nice shady wall. On the way I notice the roofs have been fixed to a whole swathe of houses that were at foundation level on Monday, the masonry teams and those jolly plumbers and electricians are relentless and determined – to exceed their target and get some thirst quenching done in the late afternoon.
How the catering team rock up with their culinary creations every day is a minor miracle in this setting – I’m looking forward to my first dinner on site later in the day. And I will know more about the kitchen on Thursday when I’m due to do the dinner shift.
But before all that, a group of us is taken to see some of the houses that Haven have repaired for local people, and I am particularly interested in seeing these as it’s part of my work in building conservation in Ireland – the value of conserving vernacular building types and use of indigenous materials can’t be overlooked and I hope that these building methods can be sustained alongside the sturdier block built houses that we are providing.
The scale of the houses defies logic. Families of seven are sheltered in a two-room mud and wattle construction. Life is mainly lived outdoors though, resting in the shade, minding their children in the shade, cooking in the shade, everything is dictated by the climate. The house is for sleeping, but it is still undoubtedly restricted and lacking in any sanitation. The Haven houses will bring more than robust shelter to these people.
We move on into the local town to visit an unusual orphanage, a term that always evokes visions of misery and sadness. This is not a building but a temporary shelter and it is run by a very dignified and caring widow and mother of five children, Mauviette Toussaint. Here she cares for up to 400 orphans, spending every day finding food and temporary shelter for them. Once again, the children are eager to put on a dance display and love having their photograph taken. We can question the appropriateness of a group of grubby construction workers coming to view this spectacle, we certainly look incongruous and not a little awkward against the backdrop of the eager and inquisitive children, but there is no doubt in their faces that we are welcome and that our visit brings some hope, and some hope is better than none. Equally, I have no doubt that our visit and those that will be made by others from our site, will result in an appreciable change for this orphanage.
While we have all brought bundles of clothes and gifts on the plane, they will be distributed by a local community liaison, Farah, to ensure that there is fair dispersal. Our gifts will not be going to the beneficiaries of the houses; our visit has to benefit as many local people as possible. Though one plasterer has told me that his hawk and trowel is highly admired by his Haitian co-plasterer and they have been showing each other traditional plastering methods. He is looking forward to leaving it to him in an age old system of dispersing craft and skill across borders, the little organic exchanges here will be among the best things we leave behind.
Dinner was well worth the wait, more about that later......
It’s Tuesday morning and after three hours on site I take a walk down to Mr Wilson’s school (for it is he who spawned this social housing idea with Leslie Buckley) to see the children at their 10 O’Clock break. Children of all ages in their formal and pristine uniform are out in the shade of the trees, performing their ‘drill’ which is one of their characteristic dance routines. My friend and I have decided they must have a few extra vertebrae as the girls would put Beyonce in the shade with their cool moves. The volunteers down in this part of the site are quite literally doing Trojan work; girls who haven’t lifted anything heavier than an emery board are mixing cement and hauling blocks in stifling heat.
The children love being photographed and seeing their picture on the screen, and again I am struck by their beauty and poise. I hadn’t realised quite how distant Creole was from standard French and it is with limited vocabulary that we try to communicate. As if one needed reminding, it is education that frees us and empowers us, and by extending this school and hopefully extending their education programme, it will give these children more hope and options for their future. Haven Partnership is also building a playground and basketball court here and all is expected to be finished by Friday, I think well done to these volunteers as I head back to my paintbrush and roller and a nice shady wall. On the way I notice the roofs have been fixed to a whole swathe of houses that were at foundation level on Monday, the masonry teams and those jolly plumbers and electricians are relentless and determined – to exceed their target and get some thirst quenching done in the late afternoon.
How the catering team rock up with their culinary creations every day is a minor miracle in this setting – I’m looking forward to my first dinner on site later in the day. And I will know more about the kitchen on Thursday when I’m due to do the dinner shift.
But before all that, a group of us is taken to see some of the houses that Haven have repaired for local people, and I am particularly interested in seeing these as it’s part of my work in building conservation in Ireland – the value of conserving vernacular building types and use of indigenous materials can’t be overlooked and I hope that these building methods can be sustained alongside the sturdier block built houses that we are providing.
The scale of the houses defies logic. Families of seven are sheltered in a two-room mud and wattle construction. Life is mainly lived outdoors though, resting in the shade, minding their children in the shade, cooking in the shade, everything is dictated by the climate. The house is for sleeping, but it is still undoubtedly restricted and lacking in any sanitation. The Haven houses will bring more than robust shelter to these people.
We move on into the local town to visit an unusual orphanage, a term that always evokes visions of misery and sadness. This is not a building but a temporary shelter and it is run by a very dignified and caring widow and mother of five children, Mauviette Toussaint. Here she cares for up to 400 orphans, spending every day finding food and temporary shelter for them. Once again, the children are eager to put on a dance display and love having their photograph taken. We can question the appropriateness of a group of grubby construction workers coming to view this spectacle, we certainly look incongruous and not a little awkward against the backdrop of the eager and inquisitive children, but there is no doubt in their faces that we are welcome and that our visit brings some hope, and some hope is better than none. Equally, I have no doubt that our visit and those that will be made by others from our site, will result in an appreciable change for this orphanage.
While we have all brought bundles of clothes and gifts on the plane, they will be distributed by a local community liaison, Farah, to ensure that there is fair dispersal. Our gifts will not be going to the beneficiaries of the houses; our visit has to benefit as many local people as possible. Though one plasterer has told me that his hawk and trowel is highly admired by his Haitian co-plasterer and they have been showing each other traditional plastering methods. He is looking forward to leaving it to him in an age old system of dispersing craft and skill across borders, the little organic exchanges here will be among the best things we leave behind.
Dinner was well worth the wait, more about that later......
Haiti Day 2
The timetable looks daunting – our first morning we rise at 5.30am and finish at 4.30pm, in 42 degree heat! All this after the strain of shedding 6kgs of baggage at the airport - dispersing it in three carry-ons and hiding the evidence from the overworked and unamused check in staff, who don’t seem prepared for the extraordinarily benign and patient 300-strong queue of quiet enthusiasts heading to Haiti, I must admit I haven’t seen such a patient mile-long queue before either. It’s not several wardrobe changes a day that’s causing the excess, the men are all weighing their bags with trepidation too – we have all brought clothes and gifts for the local community and warned of the exorbitant excess charges, we are all conscious of the irony of wastage at this point.
The day just got hotter and hotter, but we are notching up a record number of houses in our painting team and with breaks and goodies provided by the catering team it’s not so bad. We might be the least technical bunch but our labour is in gleaming evidence hour by hour and we are nurtured constantly by the water bullies and minded by our team leader, Trish. The promise of a tour that evening to Cap Haitien and a creole restaurant seems to shorten my day. I am joining the plumbing and electrical team for this as my room-mate is their team leader and they’re rather a large group to manage all by herself - to say the least! Getting ready here is a no-nonsense affair, no mirrors, no chairs, no tables, no hangers. A bed and mosquito net are our best companions now. Showering involves considerable speed and adroit negotiating of the distance between our front door and the shower, as our house is in the high visibility zone of security, deliveries, basically everybody has to pass it.
We set off on the gratifyingly air-conditioned bus and first call is to Jatrofa Pepinye,(plant nursery) nearby. This is a humanitarian enterprise set up by a U.S. non profit organisation Partner for People and Place. Here they grow the native jatropha plant that thrives in this dry area and the seed of which produces an efficient biodiesel, and by-products of glycerine for soap. Haiti imports 65 million dollars worth of diesel, if it could grow enough of this crop, through socially co-operative means it would be obviously transformative. We learn that Ireland’s Ernst and Young entrepreneurs of the year award-winners have been coming out to Haiti as part of a social entrepreneur programme, looking at projects like this and providing not just financial aid, but knowledge transfer. Seeing acres of this crop and the simple workshop where the seed is processed makes sense of the impact and value of the entrepreneur awards and it slowly dawns on our group that we are part of a greater Irish extended hand across the ocean.
On to Cap Haitien, which I expected to be like a small Havana, though sadly not, as it has been destroyed four times in the last two hundred years. The ravages to its buildings are evident as indeed is the poverty of the street life, what is most striking though is the physical beauty of Haitian people, they each possess an extraordinarily elegant demeanour and poverty does not prevent them taking pride in their dress. Because of our numbers, security is high whenever we leave the building site, and it isn’t possible to wander around the busy and dark streets.
In the restaurant, which faces the Atlantic Ocean and must be one of the very few in this area I am sitting with one of last year’s entrepreneur of the year award winners, Stephen Grant from Birr, who tells me about another charity initiative (Soul of Haiti) he is working on in the south of the country, restoring an orphanage on Ile a Vache. He has brought an 11-strong group to Haven and is clearly no stranger to Haiti – and hard work – at this stage.
Our evening of creole food and local beers will no doubt be remembered well by the P&E team and their hard-working team leader.
More soon.....
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