Warning: no pictures. Just text. Maybe I'll add some later?
When Carrie was preparing to pass on this job to me, she created a job packet. The packet was 12 pages, and then she added some, and then I took notes, so it was really long in the end. She went through all of the major parts of the job, including her own helpful tips and details, including everything from how many copies of the Mobile Clinic monthly schedule I should print out to tips on how to make Nadene happy while she's here (let her to the laundry, buy flour so she can make bread, ask about her grandkids, in case you were curious). The last two pages included the two most important topics of all: "The Cultural Reality" and "Helpful Hints to Keep You Happy." Here, I present you with the cultural differences -- some are Carrie's original ones, and some are my own. My next post will include the ways I keep myself happy.
The Cultural Reality
1. Carrie's number 1 item on the list was time, and it's such an important cultural difference that it needs to be my first item, too. If Haitians have clocks (and most city people do because they all have cell phones), they don't use them or something. It's very normal for people to show up anywhere from 40 to 90 minutes late. Sometimes people don't show at all, or sometimes they come the next day. The upside: I'm always late as it is, and no one ever gets mad!! It's wonderful. I'm going to drive everyone nuts when I get back to the US.
Example: Fred is the man who makes ID badges, and Haitians who have certifications or diplomas like badges. Our matrons like badges so that they can be recognized as formally trained matrons and are welcomed and respected in the hospital. Their graduation was yesterday, and I'd finished all of the badges several weeks ago. There were a few that had to be fixed (because some matrons gave me their ID cards late -- many are illiterate so it was easier if I took their IDs for a week to make the badges, check the spelling of their names, etc.), so Fred came over earlier in the week (after he'd already missed 2 appointments with me) to fix them. We didn't have a locality for one matron, so I told Fred I would find out on Thursday at graduation practice and then let him know. He said he could print it out and bring it to me that night. He never did. I saw him Friday and he mentioned it, so I thought he'd left it at my house, but apparently not. Oh well, we didn't have it in time for graduation.
2. Lack of urgency. When I am in the biggest rush, nobody around me is. When I was planning the graduation and trying to get out of the door by 8:30, and then 9:00 when the earlier time failed, everyone kept moving at the same pace. With a graduation ceremony set to begin at 10 am, and no chairs/tables/food/anything set up by 9:30, I was the only one worrying! Even in the hospital, when an eclamptic woman is seizing on a table, or a baby is caught in the middle of birth with the umbilical cord around its neck, Haitians take their good ole time. There really is no upside to this; it drives me nuts because I'm a wait-too-long-and-rush type of person.
Example: When Brother Bill got hit by a moto on his bike, we sped to the emergency room (or so I thought, until I found out that Ronel always drives the jeep like it's an ambulance), and Ronel had to scold the ER staff so they would stop chatting and pay attention to Brother Bill's gushing leg.
3. Bonjou/Bonswa. It is very important to greet people in Haiti -- friends, strangers, anyone. I greet the cooks, Diunny and Solimene, and our cleaning lady, Eliette, every single day with a kiss on the cheek and a "how are you?" Manno, the house manager, will not get to business without saying hello and making sure I'm doing well -- and this often happens multiple times each day. When you call someone on the phone, even if it's for one tiny thing or you're in a rush, you always ask how they are. When I walk into a place where I don't know anyone and can feel the eyes on my back, I always say hello and people instantly lighten up. I've talked to Mirline, the instructor who lives with us, about this so many times. It is absolutely necessary to tell someone hello (bonjou for good morning, bonswa for good afternoon), even if you're grumpy in the morning, exhausted at night, or anything in between. I frequently have Haitian friends call me or come over just to say hello and make sure I'm doing well. I think this is a great thing.
Example: There is no one good example, but you'll feel the tension when the only blan walks into a room full of Haitians and doesn't say hello. It helps so much, and shows that I understand that part of their culture and that I respect the Haitians I'm speaking to.
4. Loans/Money. This is something that is neither good nor bad, because I'm learning more about their system and why it works for them as I go. It's just so hard for me to get used to the differences, because the way of thinking is so opposite from what I'm used to. Here, people don't usually save money -- they spend it, because they need it now. If they have money saved up, they feel obligated to give it to someone less fortunate, like a family member who may need an expensive medication or a friend whose car broke down. Not only am I a sort of boss or leader for Midwives for Haiti, but I'm also friends with all of our staff and students. Therefore, they know they can come to me if they need help paying for repairs for their brother's flooded home, their moto, etc. But it can get exhausting! Sometimes I feel like a bank or I feel used, and it's hard, because Americans just don't do this sort of thing. Money is a very shared thing here -- people are so generous when they can be. It's just really hard to be the one with all the money, but when all my money is budgeted, it's so difficult to explain why I can't give out loans. I feel selfish saying, "Yes, I have $60, but I need it to make photocopies, to buy office supplies, and in case something comes up." It's something I'm working on -- both the issue of getting annoyed when people ask for loans and for feeling guilty having to say no.
5. Unreliability. To be fair, most Haitians are really reliable -- in some ways, more so than Americans. If I call Wilbens, our weekday Port-Au-Prince driver, the night before, he's always available. He always remembers what time, and how many people, and where they're getting picked up, etc. Ronel is the same way. If they say they'll bring something to you, they will bring it (I talked to a friend and translator, Mitial, about olive trees, and he told me he would bring me some seeds. When I got home a few hours later, they were awaiting me). At the same time, though, some people just won't show up to things. We had a staff party right before Carrie left, and the laundry lady, who lives just across the street from us, didn't show. None of the students came, and most people came an hour and a half late. When it rains the night before, everyone is late for class or work. Sometimes the photocopy place will close at 3 if it rains. And nobody holds anyone accountable!
Example: Fred (see example #1).
6. House calls. Carrie told me it's a good thing when people show up at your house to talk to you, ask you for things, etc. It can be frustrating, though. I'm often in the middle of something when someone comes upstairs to ask for something. Sometimes on Fridays, I don't get to eat lunch until 3 or 4 pm because everyone seems to come over on Fridays to talk. Sometimes I just feel used and inconvenienced, even if someone's needs are genuine.
Example: One Friday night, at 9 pm, I was getting ready to watch a movie with my friend Emily and a volunteer, Shauna, already showered and in my PJs, when a woman showed up asking me to make photocopies for her, to give her money, and to see if she could stay the night. I was so offended, but it's really normal here.
7. No means no. Haitians accept "no" if you say it in a polite way. Although it's impolite to flat-out say "no," sometimes you have to, and sometimes you can indirectly give a flat-out no. If you just don't have the item to give them, or the money to give them, you can say no. They'll accept it with no complaint and they won't ask again. Haitians are used to limited resources, and they know that if I could give them what they need, I would.
Example: I met a few random Americans who are down here (all the blans have weird connections to each other and find each other somehow), so I was talking to one, Lucas, the other day. He said he watched a Haitian ask our other friend, Connor, for $1000 dollars. Connor said "no," the Haitian said, "okay," and moved on. We laughed about it, but it's so true!
8. Patience. I love how patient everyone is. When I'm late, when I forget things, when I don't understand someone's Creole, everyone is so patient. Babies sit in church for hours with no crying, people will wait for 30 minutes to talk to me if it's important, they'll wait patiently for days until I get a chance to talk to Carrie or Nadene. It's teaching me to be more patient and that can't be a bad thing.
Example: I completely forgot about my dance lesson on Friday. I went to the Azil feeding center with some volunteers and got home at about 5:30. My lesson was supposed to start at 4:30! Tura had waited patiently the entire time, knowing I'd be home soon. He didn't try to call or anything wondering where I was; he just waited.
9. Honesty. I can't explain how trusting I am of our staff and my friends here. I regularly leave money in my room and my pockets, and they always return it if the find it. In fact, if you can't find something, it's important to tell people in a very sensitive way, because if they think you're accusing them of taking it, they'll question your trust in them.
Example: a volunteer left her passport and cash in a pocket in her scrubs. Monique, the laundry lady, brought them to me the next day, really worried that the woman would not be able to find her money and passport.
10. Personal Appearance. Haitians always look good. Unless they absolutely don't have the means to buy new clothing, their clothing is clean and well-kept. Their shoes are clean, their pants are pressed, their socks are white. Men almost always wear belts, women almost always wear skirts. They dress nicely, not necessarily super modestly, but nicely. I don't go out in public in shorts unless I'm running (jokes, I don't run here) and I usually wear shorts under my skirts.
Example: Gladias literally comes here every day looking spotless and shines his shoes when he gets here to get the dust off. Mirline irons her scrubs every day before work. The students look pristine in their uniforms every day. It's unreal how much more put-together they all look than I do.
This is a pretty good list, but if more comes to me, I'll add it! Now for the most brief of updates:
My Creole is at like 75%, I understand 80-90% from anyone who doesn't mumble, and I'm really getting there. I only take a translator to important meetings at this point, where I'll speak French if I can. Translators are my moral support and my "in." I'm no longer afraid of answering calls in Creole. In the past two days, two different people referred to me as Haitian-American or just Haitian, which has made me really happy. I danced the Salsa, Cha Cha Cha, and Bachata Saturday night at the disco and killed it (-- or so I think...). I have a spider bite on my leg (pretty sure I killed the thing today with a flip flop, though, don't worry), and it's really red and swollen but I think it'll be okay. I'm ditching malaria medication because it's not healthy long-term, so if you're praying for me, please pray that I don't get malaria. I haven't filled the ice trays in like 3 weeks and am not sad about it. Ina May stole her babies back and is hiding them in the property next to us. I'm still happy, working hard, and learning a lot. And I still miss Tamber's more than anything </3.
