Drah-Mah

[bcholmes]

Two days ago, I arrived at the HODR base station in Leyogàn. And there was drama! Drama! Duck!

The HODR group numbers approximately 100 -- I'd guess that the average age, here, is maybe a touch older than university. Most people seem enthusiastic, friendly, earnest (in the way that only idealistic university-age people can be), and hard-working.

Almost no one, here, has been to Haiti before this trip, although I've spoken to a handful of people who have read a bit about how western foreign policy and globalization have lead to destabilization here.

There are a number of projects on the go at the same time. There are "rubble" projects -- projects to take down a damaged building and haul out the rubble. I've been working on a tarp project -- there's an aid hospital just a few plots up the road. They've got one of those "inflatable hospitals" that I've been hearing about. Some HODR volunteers have been working in the hospital. Around the hospital are some recently-constructed clinic buildings. They're basically lumber frames with walls made of blue plastic tarp. We've been affixing the tarps as roofs, walls, doors, etc. We've been creating walls that can be rolled up and hooked into place easily so that the clinic can get breeze (they get quite stuffy, otherwise), and yet are weighted down for the times they need to be keep rain out. I've been finding my theatre tech skills useful, as we screw, nail and cut. Also: yay power tools.

Yesterday, I was kind of a hanger-on to this project. I was surprised to discover that I was more fluent with some of the tools. One guy was cutting two-by-fours. He'd saw a line half-way deep on the one side, then he'd flip it over and saw the rest of it. I insisted that the depth of the exposed blade is probably adjustable, and it was.

Mostly the jobs are impeded by three things: first, the sun. Holy cow.

Second, we frequently have to stop because we've run out of the right kind of screw and we need to send someone back to base camp for more, or half our team is using all the hammers and we can't do the next piece of our project.

Thirdly, a lot of adhoc choices start to bite us in the butt as we proceed through the project. For example created a simple "hook" out of lumber for when the tarps are rolled up. Mostly, these were easy to attach to a pre-existing support strut, except that on some of the walls, someone decided to use umbrella nails whereas in every other place they'd used normal nails. Those umbrella nails were in our way. Not a show-stopper, but it seems like we're constantly adjusting at each stage of the game because of inconsistencies from other parts of the process.

But, as I said, there's drama. My first night, I arrived just in time for the volunteer meeting. People kept saying to us that that night's meeting was likely to be long. And it was. Long. And angry. Drah-Mah!

Two bits of background facts: first, HODR runs something they call the "Local volunteer programme". Basically, local people from town volunteer with HODR under many of the same conditions that the international volunteers work under. Both sets of volunteers get to sign up for tasks. They get meals in exchange for their work. The local volunteers are not allowed into the main base building, and they don't sleep on the premises. That enforced separation is a bit skeevy, but it's a fact of the base.

There are about 20 local volunteers, although on a typical day there are usually somewhere in the neighbourhood of 15. HODR seems to make a big deal about the fact that if they volunteer, the get skills, and have a higher likelihood of being hired by other NGOs if they have those skills.

Second, there's a guy who works as one of the main translators. His name's Jacob, he's Haitian and he's one of the paid staff. He worked with HODR in Gonayiv, and he's well-respected by some of the key project organizers (who aren't in Haiti, at the moment).

At some point, a day or two before I arrived, a note somehow came into the possession of the HODR people. The note claimed to be from "some local volunteers" (a point we now think is false), and represented "all the local volunteers" (again, false). The note asserted that while the author(s) of the note believed that Jacob was capable of doing the job, the fact that he's from Gonayiv, not Leyogàn, is a problem. The note further suggested that Jacob should be replaced with someone from Leyogàn (or, alternately, all the local volunteers should be paid, since Jacob is paid). It concluded that if these things didn't happen, the author would feel "so sorry" for Jacob. The note, itself, is in fractured English, but everybody is pretty clear that it ends with a threat against Jacob.

So, hm.

A bunch of conversation, rumour, emailing and so forth took place, all before I arrived.

But, crucially, at the volunteers meetings (just the internationals, not the locals), the team was informed that:

1. The heads of HODR take the threat seriously.

2. Jacob had resigned at one point, but agreed to withdraw his resignation.

3. The note had been discussed with the local volunteers who seemed incensed by its contents.

4. The heads (who aren't in Haiti) decided that it was important to cut the local volunteer programme down to a maximum of 5 people.

Importantly, this was presented to the group as a fait accompli. Most of the international volunteers were incensed. They felt that the final point made it seem like HODR blames all of the local volunteers for the actions of a small few. They've been working side-by-side with the local volunteers for weeks or months. They know them as part of their team. Except, now, it's like a part of the team is not welcome.

People have spoken eloquently about how we're just here for a short period of time, and that the ongoing job of rebuilding is going to be in the hands of the Haitians. If anything, people say, there should be far more local volunteers. There's also a certain amount of anger that there was no real transparency to this whole process. Everything has been presented as a done deal.

My sense is that the people who are actually in charge on site, here, don't believe that this choice was a good choice. But, mostly, I think that they're far too willing to just follow orders. They also tend to think in terms of "we, through our incredible magnanimity, are giving these people marketable skills; they should be so thankful." They've been challenged on this attitude, and have adjusted their words, but I'm not sure that the paternalism is really gone.

Obviously, I side with the people who believe that it's wrong to punish the local volunteers for actions of a few who (we now believe) aren't even members of local volunteer group. We've had meetings since that first night that included the local volunteers, and they're really hurt. They feel like we distrust them, and that we're showing that they were never really part of the team. They care about this work just as much as we do, and they're stunned that they're being told that they can't help out.

After the first meeting, one of the HODR heads in the States sent a long email "explaining" her decision to cut the local volunteer programme. The explanation, to me, seemed to say, "I can't believe that people threatened Jacob, and I'm close to Jacob, and if there's a threat, then it's only reasonable to take whatever actions we think are necessary." And besides, the email continued, the heads have had issues with the local volunteer programme for a while (although again, this is the first time that most of the group has heard about this). She also budged a little, and said that there could be a cap of 10 local volunteers, rather than 5. The on-site organizers seemed to think that this "explained" the decision, but in my opinion, it was a terrible attempt at a rationale, and it did nothing to mollify the crowd.

Interestingly, at least one of the crowd, here, is a long-time union organizer, and he's been pretty vocal about saying maybe if the local volunteers aren't allowed to work, the international volunteers shouldn't work either.

Today, the local volunteers didn't come to the camp, and they asked that the international volunteers show solidarity and not work as well. I'd already gone to my site when this news came in and we didn't hear about it until our job was almost done. Most of today's projects didn't happen, because the camp is on strike. Today was going to be a short day, anyway, because of the World Cup thing. But, still. That's about 50 person-days of labour that didn't happen.

This afternoon, we had another long meeting in which the local leaders talked about who, precisely, we were hurting by striking, and encouraged us to consider alternative ways to make our voices heard. They argued that the families whose properties we were helping to clear are the real victims. One guy, the long-term volunteer who runs the local volunteer programme, has resigned his position, and I respect his choice. Many of the other local leaders are, I think, being a bit disingenuous about how easy it is for HODR to just reverse their (dumb) decision. If they really care about the families and projects, just let things go back to the way things were.

For my part, I've been advocating non-compliance. The people who are making the dumb decisions aren't here. We should just act as if we didn't get those instructions and continue on as before. But, like I say, some of the local leaders are being pretty wishy-washy.