Haiti, November 2013

It is positively pouring as I write this. I'm sitting hunched over my laptop in a darkened room, on a simple wood-frame bed with a one-inch thick mattress. The rain is soothing. And the occasional drops penetrating the screened window tease my skin with its cool, cleansing qualities.

Stepping out of the Port-au-Prince airport this afternoon into a sweltering heat seems like just a scenario I've experienced dozens of times in dozens of other places.  Except this time it's in a place which evokes mysterious dread and hopelessness interlaced with heavy sighs. I promise no one has said, 'You're going to Haiti? That's awesome!' Even as the plane touched down on the runway, my companion and I had exchanged quizzical glances — what, indeed, would we find here.

Now, six hours later, I'm filled with possibilities, hope and an enthusiasm that's keeping me awake (and writing) rather than getting the rest I'll probably need tomorrow.

I'm here with a micro-lending NGO considering an expansion here. My attraction to this particular group is their model of working through established, trusted community infrastructure, no matter it's affiliation. In this case, it is a local ministry with a vision of equipping the poor with the means to transform their own families, and ultimately communities, through small business loans.

Which is how I find myself in the guest compound of the ministry. A representative of a partnering organization met us at PAP with two pastors and a translator. The ride through PAP included sometimes paved, mainly not, roads in various stages of decay or destruction. Streets teeming with cars and people took us past decent neighborhoods, international headquarters for various NGOs, a plethora of UN locations, and everywhere the small, sidewalk markets.

Inside our gated, beautiful though sparse guest compound, we unloaded our gear and joined the others for our first traditional Haitian meal: a chickpea soup with beef and vegetables. [No worries to those who know me... my vegan diet was established early in the trip and they seemed to relish ladling out my soup sans boeuf. After all, it meant more boeuf for everyone else!]. Our hosts are engaging, impassioned, and fun. It was great sorting out language conundrums around the table: english, creole, french, the spanish still stuck in my head from Nicaragua. Such joy listening to the lilting French I really love, but haven't heard, or had the opportunity to speak for quite awhile! I doubt I will be up to speed in the 2 full days we have here, but it is certainly something I look forward to in coming back.

Just the short time I've been here confirms what I've already learned over and over again. Places deemed miserable by others all contain pockets of hope and joy. And I love nothing better than slipping my hands into them.

Telling Stories Workshop - Cairo - Day 2

9 April 2013

Getting out of the car at FACE Salam Center (FSC) is akin to arriving at a movie premier (I'm guessing). Young men ready to carry your bags, help you from the car, and walk you inside as you shake hands with others who seemingly materialize out of the steps leading to the building. (Shaking hands in Egypt is not the usual USA clasp hands, pump up-and-down 3 times. It's a slap, lightly grasp, and pump-down-once affair).

Then there are the kids who make FSC their home (some for a few hours a day, some 24/7... it's their choice). They want to know your name, they want to shake hands, they want to practice the English they are learning. They want a hug. Or a kiss on the cheek. They want to be treated with respect. 

And as I found out in our first classroom session with the resident students (those still living on the streets will meet tomorrow), they return the respect with attentiveness and participation I would never expect from young teenagers.

I think one of their favorite slides from the lesson was Eadweard Muybridge's stop-motion of a galloping horse. (Which is, by the way, the first-ever motion picture!). 

After going over composition and basic techniques, it was off to Azhar Park for an afternoon of shooting. 

Each student was paired with a staffer who had a list of shots to take. 

Did the follow the list? Did they even try? I won't know until tomorrow afternoon, but even if they didn't, each one shot two disposable cameras of 27 shots each. So.. they did something!

And what a wonderful day. The sandstorm enveloping Cairo for the past two weeks had dissipated. Breezy, low 80's, sunshine with a meandering cloud or two. Perfect for observing changing light on a scene, and perfect for walking through a stunning park making friends with Egyptians enjoying a delightful day with their friends and families.

The day was void of whining, fighting, disruptive behavior, disciplinary measures — truly remarkable for 4 teenage boys aged 12-16. When I let Kashif try out my camera, the other boys waited to be asked if they wanted a turn. They never grabbed at it or resented giving it up to another. And that perhaps, was the biggest surprise... that they treated one another with affection and respect. I think it is the work FACE has done that has given them a framework of famly.