March 20th Everything I do I do it for YOU

5 years ago, March 20th 2006  I landed in Detriot Airport bursting with excitement and eager to share my new found love for Haiti. I walked through the airport laughing and joking with my new friends when I spotted my step mom, Anita.

My heart sunk. She wasn’t due to pick me up- I was set to spent the night at a friends to be picked up the following day.

As she got close my stomach was in knots- she gave me this look that I will never forget.

My one question- “ He is still alive right?”

Anita- “I’m sorry Britt”

2 hours before I landed, my Grampa, my mentor, my protector and my best friend died after battling cancer for months.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

The weeks that followed were probably the most difficult to date. Not only was I grieving the loss but I felt GUILTY. Guilty for leaving when I knew he wasn’t  doing well, guilty for not being home- to say goodbye, to support him in his last days, to support my family.

My Grampa wanted me to go to Haiti, he knew I had a passion for social justice and a gift to share. He knew that this was what I was suppose to be doing, and he is still supporting me and pushing to dream, to achieve and to be the best that I can be.

This year, as I prepared for my return to Haiti but ultimately my trip to the DR I was nervous. I haven’t travelled on that day since 2006. And this time I was leaving behind my Step Dad who is currently battling cancer.

Would history repeat itself?

[Thankfully it didn’t my Step Dad is still fighting the battle with a strong spirit and great courage. Prayers are appreciated.]

But March 20th 2011 I was sitting on a beach in the Dominican reflecting on the last 5 years.

I have achieved so many milestones I wished I was able to share with my Grampa- high school graduation, university graduation, multiple volunteer trips, a career, awards and recognitions.

My Grampa has missed the success of my fathers business, the success of his youngest son Josh, the birth of Dawson my littlest brother, the growth of my little brother Dennis. He has missed the strength of my Gramma and the unwavering support of Anita. But somehow I know he is looking down on us with a huge gapped smile [he was missing teeth] and a feeling of pride.

5 years later that strong, hard edged- soft centred man continues to guide me and support me in all that I do. And I still miss him greatly.

Everything I do I do it for you.

A funeral and a party

Meet Raina- (on the left) She is a social worker and serves as a community mobilizer

On Saturday March 19th we arrived in Comadero ABajo- a barrio that Raina supports.

We walked up the long dusty road towards what looked like a community centre, a sullen faced woman comes out to welcome us. In Spanish she approached Frances (our translator), explaining that Raina had died the night before and thus the group must be quiet. Before Frances could explain what he was told he turned to Jorge and told him the news- he was distraught.

He told us to be quiet and to follow Maria.

She led us towards the community centre and as the doors opened we were bombarded with tiny red flowers serving as confetti and the sounds of a mariachi band playing in the far back.

Raina didn’t die, it was all a practical joke. Instead they surprised us with a party- complete with pop, lollipops, and dancing.

The children presented us with flowered head bands and we exchanged candy. Soon the floor was crowded with our awkward attempt at Latin inspired dancing.

Through all the commotion I noticed a little girl sitting in a miniature chair with a sulk and a dazed look on her face. I wandered over to her side of the room and introduced myself, she is about 4 years ago and looked up at me half scared, half intrigued.

I scooped her up and sat her on my lap- using my very broken Spanish to introduce myself. Her name was Anabel.

She slumped against me and seemed content to just sit with me and watch the party unfold.

We were soon ushered outside, the kids were eager to show us their community- especially their baseball diamond.

As Anabel and myself made our way outside the door, this bright eyed chatty girl came up beside me and yanked Anabel out of my arms. I looked at her confused, she chipperly told me that Anabel was her sister and HER name was Estelle.

From that moment on they were BOTH stuck to me like glue. Estelle rambled on- even though I told her I couldn’t understand, and Anabel giggled.

[Photo: Left Estelle and Right Anabel]

We skipped – yes skipped- I haven’t done that in YEARS, Celine helped translate what Estelle was eager to share and we just enjoyed each other’s company.

Estelle ushered me over to the family for an introduction and I humbly introduced myself- honoured to have met them. This was the first meaning interaction I had on the trip, those girls quickly found a place in my heart and I was so sad to say goodbye.

After a couple of hugs and kisses blown I boarded the bus with a sulk.

A better life

Two boys draped themselves over the ledge that ran along the huge building. Beside them sat a small, dirty and worn wooden box.

[Photo: not mine it was taken by another participant]

“Bonswa, Kouman ou ye?”- Me

Puzzled look- You speak Kreyol?

A muffled “Bien”- boys

These young men were clearly Haitian, they are two of the thousands of young Haitians who have fled to the Dominican Republic for a “better life.”

With no documentation, no real job, no shelter and no Spanish they are aliens in a foreign land.

These two young men were trying to “make it” as shoe shine boys, in their small wooden box was shoe shine and rags. They roamed the busy streets of Santiago rubbing the shoes of well off Dominicans for a measly 1 or 2 pesos.

At night, they either congregate in the various slums and barrios, beneath underpasses or in ally ways. They often get caught up in the dangers of street life- drugs… violence…abuse…human trafficking… sex trade and eventually suffer from a lack of motivation for anything better.

They can’t attend school because they don’t have documentation, they can barely get by because they don’t speak the language and they have little to no access to food, water, medical aid.

This is the “better life” they were searching for?

Accion Callejero is a safe haven for these boys, along with hundreds just like them.

It serves as a community centre, a school, a clinic, and a cafeteria for these young people. They offer various programs such as soccer and volleyball teams, language courses, social workers, tutoring, the arts, a clinic and dental services.

Benolina- the director of the centre, beamed with joy as she shared with us the wonders of “the best job on earth” she was so incredibly proud of the youth she served. She felt for them and their challenges, she worked day in and day out to help them in whatever way she could. And she continues to push the status quo- demanding the safety of the Dominican and Haitian youth, demanding public recognition and international support.

She stressed the rights of the youth.

The Right to Education

The Right to Health Care

The Right to Play

The Right to Eat

The Right to be care for and about!

[Picture: On the right is the wonderful Benolina and the on the left is a long time volunteer at the centre- Dean, he is there through the USA 'Peace Corps and served as our translator]

Benolina made us make a promise…

A promise to go home and share what we have learnt. Expand the awareness and gather support for the youth of the Dominican.

I PROMISE to do just that.

How to Be a Strong Woman 101

With tears of gratitude and joy in her eyes she welcomed us in her home/ school/ orphanage/clinic…

And shared with us her story…
26 years ago she lost her husband. She felt empty and alone and opened her home to those feeling the exact same way. Over the years she has filled her home with children, she currently has 16 children under her complete care and about 50 more who attend the school and clinic. She scrounges day in and day out to keep the project running, she charges 500 pesos a month  for schooling for those student who can afford it, and only 200 pesos for those less able.

Diamaela loves every child that crosses her path, as she walked around the building she gave hugs, caring caresses and bright smiles to everyone.

This woman has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met. She gives of herself everyday, she asks for nothing in return and strives to live her life in accordance to what she feels called to be doing.

What she didn’t tell us that day, was that it was also HER 59th birthday. For the occasion her staff, children and students surprised her with a birthday cake, songs and celebrations. You could just FEEL the love in the room, what an incredible group of people and a woman who will serve as my inspiration for years to come.

“We can do no great things, only small things with great love”- M.Teresa

Imagine

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night to find your meagre belongings have been scorched.

Imagine finding out your are expecting and feel an immediate pang of guilt for bringing in another child into this desperation.

Imagine having your children denied an education because you cant afford to get them a birth certificate.

Imagine our children finding hope in a kite made out of garbage bags and twigs. Rather than the latest Ipod, video game or cellphone.

They don't have to imagine this is their reality.

La Carmeltias is a barrio outside of La Vega. It is home to over 1700 families, 6000 adults and children. They are desperately trying to mobilize their community, create change and move forward in what appears to be a bleak situation.

They have no running water or clean water source. They have to pay for any water to be trucked in. Many go without.

They have one school for the children BUT only children with proper documentation can go.

Their children and adults are malnourished, sick and desperate.

There are a couple people within the community who are pushing for change- I would like you to meet one that touched my heart.

Elizabeth is 23, the same age as myself. Although she told me I was too tall to be the same age

She was born in La Carmeltias with her twin brother.

She is a now heading up a group for young woman and launching a sponsorship program for the children in the Barrio so that they may have access to school, medical attention and a nutrition program.

At 23 she has made the commitment to stay in her community and make a change- even if that means sacrificing her own wellbeing and her own advancement.She is my inspiration.

The price of luxury: follow up

Want to make an informed decision on your next purchase?

Check out:

Responsible Shopper

http://www.greenamerica.org/programs/responsibleshopper/

KnowMore.org: Question your Goods, Vote with your Wallet

http://www.knowmore.org/

Sweat Shop Free Communities

http://www.sweatfree.org/shopping

 

And if you know any more resources please leave a comment with any suggestions.

The price of luxury

Placement: Zona Franca “ Free Zone” aka. Sweat Shop,

Housing Free Trade Companies such as Gap, Dockers, Walmart etc.

Location: In nearly EVERY community throughout the Dominican Republic

On Wednesday March 16th our bus drove into the compound of Zona Franca, a “industrial park” 1 of 100s found throughout the country.

I sat on the edge of my seat, listening to Frances explain the operations – peering out the windows at the many buildings.

Buildings that once housed thousands of workers, working for a “promised” wage of $5000 pesos a week [135 US], enduring long, hot days piecing together our clothing, our footwear, our swimsuits, our furniture….our luxuries.

They now house hundreds of workers, working for a “promised” wage of $5000 pesos a week.

Why?

Because many companies have moved operations to Haiti, where it has become easier to exploit the people, cut the costs and produce mass materials.

Those workers still employed in the DR can be making anywhere from $1000-5000 pesos a week [27-135 US]. Their wage is based on production.

They work approximately 8 hours a day, 500 people to a building working as fast as possible- because their life depends on it.

Frances explains that because these factories are found on the outskirts of town, workers must pay for transportation to and from work, they must purchase lunch before returning home their respective homes in the evening.

Because of their ridiculously low wage many workers are taking out a loan on Monday morning – so that they can work all week to repay that loan on Friday- turning around and asking for that money back on Monday to get back to work.

What kind of life is this?

Zona Franca companies do NOT employ children.

But these do…

 

A furniture factory in a poor barrio called Los Teres Brazos.

Desiree a volunteer from North Carolina, USA; gave us a tour of the barrio she is currently working in. This particular barrio is one of the 3 poorest in the country, it is the newest and fastest growing and has no government regulation or assistance.

Which makes it much easier for production companies to ignore labour laws.

This particular furniture factory [specializing in beds and dressers] is notorious for employing children, they work in dangerous situations with little to no protection and IF/WHEN they get hurt they are sent to get “patched up” and are fired for their inconvenience.

I am not telling you this information so that you feel guilty.

I am telling you this information so that you can make an INFORMED decision next time you purchase a new clothing item, or a piece of furniture.

Does it matter to you how it was made?  DEMAND FAIR WAGES and SAFE CONDITIONS

What lives were strained? PUT A FACE TO YOUR PURCHASE

What  is the price of YOUR luxury?

…. then feed just one”

Location: Bani, Dominican Republic

Meet Frances – he is a Dominican who wears many hats. The first- husband and father. The second- business man- having started his own vocational school. The third- community mobilizer- working in collaboration with the Elizabeth Seton project in the poor barrios of Bani.

First Placement: Centro Elizabeth Seton

Nutrition Clinic, Preschool, Daycare and Medical Clinic

Our group had an opportunity to play with the children, feed them lunch and learn more about the project from the many woman who work there.

Our group was elated to have an opportunity to play with these beautiful children- camera’s were out and the laughter exploded. But I was hesitant.

5 years ago I would have done the same as the group did-  trying to capture the cuteness, the desperation, the experience.

But, the last time I stood in a room of babies I knew them all by name, I knew their personalities, I showered them with love and did not need to hesitate.

This time, I couldn’t. So I snuck to the sidelines and sat with a little girl with a glum face, unlike her peers she hadn’t gravitated to the white people. She stared at her bowl and didn’t move. I tried to talk to her, she didn’t react. I slowly picked up her spoon and moved it towards her mouth. She didn’t open it. So I just sat beside her, and slowly and surely she made eye contact, and the motioned for the spoon. 5 minutes later the soup was gone. And eventually came a smile.

A small group eventually formed around me, they were curious why my camera hadn't come out- they point and prodded at my camera bag. I handed the big SLR over to the eldest girl, in broken Spanish taught her the ropes- the following is her handy work.

“Through the eyes of a child”

The Elizabeth Seton Centre has been running for 15 years, it serves as a daycare for working families , a preschool in the afternoon- families pay equivalent to $8 a month.

They have a doctor and nurses who can be seen for $3, a dentist for $3 and a lab and pharmacy. I asked what the most common afflictions are and was told mainly- waterborne illnesses/parasites, “fever” and malnutrition.

They run a nutrition program, they feed the children 2 meals a day and care for the children from 7:45-1:45pm. 2 times a week the children are feed what they call the “Green Soup” a soup heavy in nutrients and everything the children need to meet their needs. This soup is made from the leaves of various vegetables – sweet potatoes, squash, radish, yucca- with added spices and pasta.

We saw the children thriving, but were informed that because the children were going home on the weekend- often a weekend with little to no food- the progress made throughout the week was negated. Solution- sending home packed meals for the children to ensure progress.

The centre serves a total of 1500 families.

Dominicans Helping Dominicans. Inspiring.

“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one”

- Mother Teresa

“Where your head is more in heaven than your feet are on earth”

"Now I yearn for one of those old, meandering, dry, uninhibited roads which lead away from towns… where you may forget in what country you are travelling…

along which you may travel like a pilgrim, going nowhither; where travellers are not too often to be met;

where my spirit is free;

where the walls and fences are not cared for;

where your head is more in heaven than your feet are on earth.” (H.D. Thoreau)

To start at the beginning.

There were 24 of us in total, mainly young grade 12 students, a couple parents and a few adults. I was in the role of leader-in-training- shadowing the man who has been leading the trip to the DR for 17 years. I was eager- eager to share my experience, eager to give of myself and enrich the experience of the young people.

The first couple days in the DR were a challenge.

I was in unfamiliar territory- I missed Haiti. I longed to know the culture, the issues, the people- and I missed the opportunity to share that with the group.

I struggled because I longed for the opportunity to lead- but as it turned out- 17 years of leading makes it difficult to delegate.

I was lost.  I was frustrated, I felt like a fish out of water. 

It took me until the evening of the second day to snap out of it. To stop dwelling on what this trip WASN’T and start focusing on what this trip WAS and what I could make of it.

An opportunity to learn.

So that is exactly what I did for the next 6 days. I asked questions. I dug for clarification. I immersed myself in the communities we visited, I hugged every child who got close and I shared a smile with anyone who met my eyes.  I made the most of it.

It wasn’t Haiti , it wasn’t the chance I had been waiting for to LEAD but it eventually felt right.

“where my spirit is free;”

Yes the sea is terrible, but the shore is no place for me….

“The fisherman know that the sea is dangerous and the storm is terrible but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore”- Vincent Van Gogh

I knew this trip wouldn't be easy. It never is.

But I did think it would be easier. Having been my 5th trip to a developing nation. Considering myself “well read” when it comes to social disparities, social inequalities.

But I quickly learned that it doesn't get easier to see garbage sprawled across open fields, children playing amidst the filth- normal.

I doesn't get easier seeing children in torn clothing, lighten hair- not from sunshine but from lack of nutrition- distended bellies, sullen eyes.

It doesn’t get easier to stare in the eyes of a woman who fights day in and day out to give her children a better life, to keep her children alive and “well”, and lastly to keep herself alive.

It doesn’t get easier to learn about the disparities and know that in a short while I get to go home, home to a comfortable house, a nice neighbourhood, clean running water, a secure future.

It’s not easy to hear that what provides us comfort here- clothing, accessories, sugar, fruit- are made and produced through the sweat and tears of those less fortunate- less fortunate to have simply been born into a different country- this week I saw that for the first time with my own eyes. 

The posts to follow over the next couple days will be my logs from my most recent trip to the Dominican Republic. I hope they provide some insight into what I saw and experienced.

Yes the sea is terrible, but the shore is no place for me.