Back down the hill, we could see the panorama of the region, and even could see Tovar and Grison Garde. We could see the cape (Cap Haitien) itself and the sea (well, ocean) beyond. The weather was starting to cloud up, and it finally became clear that this area is naturally a tropical rainforest. Again, massive deforestation (to make charcoal) has wounded this country, but I believe in the Haitians. I have never before encountered so much will to improve, so much commitment to the nation and local communities, as I have in Haiti.
The city of Milot (population, approximately 30,000 is sort of built around the ruins of a castle destroyed in 1842 (and considered the closest thing to Versailles that existed in the Americas). The town tapers up the mountain, but gets dense back down on flat land. Before we returned to flat land, relatively normal driving, and back to Cap, we stopped for a meeting at another school, Carmelot.
The director, a studious man and the founder of the school, met us outside and took us in a classroom. His school is only through primaire, up to sixth grade. The room we met in is for the second grade. A detailed schedule hung on the wall, and every day began with "Drapeau" (flag).
I asked the man sitting next to me about that. When I asked (in my horrid French, which I'm using to try to improve) about that, his eyes lit up; every day, all of the children sing the national anthem. The anthem, which I need to look up, is in French and Creole. The Haitians have a strong national pride, despite the horrors that have visited them since, well, since forever; they started as slaves, revolted, were under bloody wars (much like the US civil wars) that led to a democratic society, have been hit by massive earthquakes which only recent building techniques can help, and through in multiple hurricanes each year, for which adequate supplies for preparation just aren't present. The massive earthquake of January 12, 2010, was only the latest in a string of tragedies. To me, a nation that survives such challenges is a strong nation, regardless of the current state of affairs. Haitians love their country, flaws and all.
During the meeting, we got to enjoy a bit more of Haitian food. I don't know how much I've talked about the food, but it's wonderful. Maybe another post on that after dinner tonight.
Bananas were the first treat; they were grown on trees on school grounds. Even better, a few minutes later we were asked if we would like some coconut milk. Sounded great after that long hike, but we got more than expected. One of the men disappeared and a few minutes later began bringing each of us a coconut fresh from the tree. They chopped off the husk (with an actual machete, using maneuvers and speed that would have somehow lost me both hands and a foot) and cut a piece out of the top so that we could drink. Adam got the largest coconut (perhaps the largest I've seen by a couple of inches) and guzzled coconut milk for the next 20 minutes as we talked with the director.
This school is special: they don't charge the students at all. They have 250-260 student, from kindergarten through sixth grade. Classes run from 7:50AM (national anthem) to 1:00PM. The school has previously not had facilities to feed lunch to the students, so afternoon class is not possible. This summer the school was able to construct a new building for a kitchen and new storage rooms for the food, so they hopefully will be able to feed the children lunch and continue classes.
Another side note, this time about food and clothing. The Haitians I encountered were practically all very thin, but by no means emaciated. I am not a doctor (well, not that kind of doctor), so I can't tell you if there were signs of malnutrition. There are no stomachs bloated from a lack of food (again, I can only speak of what I saw). The image you may have of some "save the children" TV ad does not apply in this area. Everyone over the age of five is well-dressed (the younger boys may go shirtless). Today is Sunday, and many Haitians (a very religious nation) were in their Sunday best. Women wore nice dresses, and many of the men were wearing slacks, a long sleeve shirt, a tie, and shined shoes. I can't figure it out; the Haitians seem to repel dirt. It's embarrassing enough that I sweat heavily while they don't (hey, my family is from northeastern Europe), but I feel a fair bit underdressed (although no one ever notices). Mishna wore fashionable open shoes (nicer than anything called a sandal) on the hike up. No one ever wore dirty clothes, and Haiti is, well, it's not the cleanest place. It can be very dusty, and there is little pavement outside of the city. All of the clothes washing (as with everything else) is done by hand.
When we finished drinking the coconut milk, the discussion began to get serious (although not negative). Oh, the Haitians took our coconuts and broke them so that we could eat the meat. I have never had coconut like this, although I've had fresh coconut before. Fresh coconut from the store, a thousand or more miles away from where it was grown, is not the same as FRESH coconut off the tree for only a few minutes. It's like a creamy melon, and the coconut flavor is not as pronounced. Adam's giant coconut was so young that the meat hadn't matured, but we all shared.
The serious discussion was about the structure of the school. As I said, there are 250-260 students in seven grades (including kindergarten). There are nine teachers and three staff, including the director. Because the school doesn't charge tuition or fees, it cannot pay its teachers as well; they are compensated by the appreciation and respect given to them by the community. Four of the teachers are in the Waveplace training, and they are staying at the orphanage, as the commute would be too long and too expensive. There are two more Carmelot representatives training to be mentors, one a staff member, and the other from the local version of the PTA. The Haitians care greatly about education; because of their history, they don't have the same foundation as, say, India, but they aspire to teach more students.
One odd anecdote; I asked through Adam (our impromptu translator) about the distribution of students. It seems that the number of students drops off as the grade level increases; Carmelot only has 10 students (3 girls and 7 boys) in sixth grade. I asked why, and the director replied that at the end of sixth grade, there is a national three-day exam to determine if a student can continue. This isn't an answer to the question, as their school stops at sixth grade, but I think there are two factors at play.
The first is the Ministry of Education. They dictate a national curriculum and even as far as nation-wide start and end date; the school doesn't even know yet when they can start. Oh, and this is a private school; they still have to comply. As a result, the curriculum can't be tailored to the area around the school. I don't know that I would change the curriculum, but the children aren't learning things like animal husbandry or effective crop strategies. Where do they learn things like this? Most of these children are from (or spend time working on) small farms.
The second issue is the lack of future. We often hear students complaining that they won't apply the lessons they learned ("why do I have to learn calculus?"), but for these kids, all of the knowledge can be seen as theoretical. Hopefully the laptops will work as symbols of integrating with the larger world while staying in Milot and contributing to the economy. Milot is great; I wish I had more time to spend here.
Only a few months ago, a new road was built from Cap Haitien to Milot. It's by far the best pavement I've seen, and one section even had a yellow lane-marking line in the middle. We passed several places of interest, including a beautiful villa that houses doctors (mostly American) who come as volunteers for 1-2 week stints. I really don't think I had much of a conscious preconception of Haiti, but whatever I might have thought was wrong; this place is paradise; it might be paradise lost right now, but it can be paradise regained. I would bet that it will be.
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