-

i come from a country where coming out is essentially social suicide.
yesterday one guy at a party came up to me and sneered, "so i received the attentions of, shall we say, a member of the lgbt community last night."
i worried that this would take a turn for the usual.
then he said "so i tell him- i said, what am i, just a piece of meat to you? you have to dine me and wine me first, sir."
it would seem that there's hope for the world yet.
or maybe only the eloquent ones won't be homophobic.

In Haiti- April 2011

Its a whole other story when you've been so involved with haiti but from so far away. I remember being the "news-room" and posting things like x market has collapsed, x strip mall was destroyed, etc etc etc. I remember knowing what it meant, knowing that most of what I grew up with had turned into piles of cement blocks spilling out dead bodies left right and center. Its a whole other experience to be here, look into an empty space and think, this is where I had my first date, this was my best friend's school, this was our only cinema, this was so&so's house etc etc.
Its a whole other thing to see so much rubble and so many-oh god- so many tents everywhere, even though its been a year, even though those camps conditions had been classified over and over again as inhuman.

My stomach is twisting up with the realization that tents and tarps I (we) helped send under the express condition that they be used as a temporary shelter pending reconstruction(s) are still being used as permanent settlements. As it was in the beginning, so it remains- tents everywhere, in front of the palace or what's left of it, in and around the nothingness that's left of the Champs-de-Mars, (wasn't exactly the Champs Elysees but I suppose we had done what we could).
What's worse, I know exactly what's going on here- as do all haitians, I'm sure. But the disappointment is so overwhelming that I'd rather say "I don't get it".

All of that being said, my heart hasn't been as devastatingly broken as it was last year all over again. I'm sad of course, but I'm not devastated again. Most of the broken houses have been cleared out, hence the empty spaces. Its made an intense dent in the national budget, and, I should hope, money from international donations- I'm guessing optimistically here. The dead have been buried, for the most part, and, to be slightly flippant, we've grieved and soldiered on.
My room is earthquake proofed, my house is more damaged than my mom said it had been, but she won't acknowledge it, so I won't point it out. I can most definitely stomach it all. After all I've put into this last year, it'd be incredibly surprising if I couldn't.
The first day I was a slight bit sadder than I thought I would be, all my experience considered- but now I can say I'm fine. Its my country, after all. I'm with my mother (who is amazing and I can't go on about this fact enough) and we're road-tripping cross country to the beach together for a day or two, and I honestly feel better than I have in a very very long time.

Haha, I am now a big wuss forever.

Henceforth by crying I mean tearing up (forever), but

Listening to Tori Amos Live = Crying.

Listening to Patrick Wolf = Crying.

Listening to Castratii = Crying.

 

Listening to Regina Spektor after Dan Cho's death = Crying forever.

It's been 100 days since the earthquake in Haiti. And then what?

I'm impossibly sick of these milestones. One month, two months, three months, 50, 60, 100 days. Whatever meaningful number of days past won't ever matter. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it will always feel the same. The same impossibility to comprehend the fact that time has passed at all, the same unwillingness to believe, no matter how many months later, that X significant amount of days ago, we watched a country crumple under nature like a sandcastle hit by waves. Yes, X significant amount of days ago, nature broke in and bashed, tore, crushed, indiscriminate, but then the dead, the dead, the dead, the flurry of missing persons lists, the mass graves, the phones that no one would pick up, ringing, ringing, ringing, please don't be dead, ringing, ringing- it never really feels like any X amount of days ago. It doesn't fit something as pretty, as perfect as a milestone, a nice, even, smooth number- 1, 2, 3, months, 10, 30, 50, 100 days- it's all too smooth, it's all too easy, it lends itself to politics far too comfortably- Haiti: 1 month later, what has been done. Haiti, 100 days later, who has helped? Haiti, 3 months down the road, how is our money being spent?

Haiti, Haiti, Haiti, Haiti- and it never really feels like Haiti, does it? And how could it? Whatever's left is mourning itself while onlookers are egging it on- get better, this is costing us, get better, it's been 10, 30, 50, 100 days, where is our money and where are the doctors and where are the nurses and where are the tents and where is the reconstruction and

 

 

my god,

 

even I want to scream and I don't even have the right. I've been one of those urging on, busying myself to indeed find out where are the doctors and where are the nurses and where are the tents and where am I needed and what can I do and what do you need from me; it's far too smooth and far too easy as I haven't seen it and I haven't felt it, I haven't smelled it, I haven't touched it, and the dead, the dead, the dead, well, they are not around me; I go to mock, "symbolic" funerals on the other side of the continent, I don't know what rubble sounds like, what death smells like, what utter destruction feels like when there's no television to turn off.

 

100 days later, I wake up just as sure that the world has ended. My head is still spinning with disaster. There will be other milestones. 6 months, 9 months, 200, 250, 365 days. There will be ceremonies, news specials, interviews, where, where, where and what being asked all around.

 

Haiti, Haiti, Haiti, Haiti-- it'll never feel like Haiti, will it?

 

A Haitian heritage, a Haitian heart

MONTREAL – Martine St-Victor’s goal is to rebrand Haiti.

For decades, the country has had a bad rap as being a deathly poor, environmentally bereft basket case crawling with violent gangs. What people don’t know, and what they’re discovering in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake, says the publicist, is that the Caribbean nation is full of resilient, resourceful, hard-working people and a culture rich in music, art and spirit.

“The logo should be, ‘Go. You’ll love it,’ ” the 36-year-old said in an interview Monday.

Frustrated by the slow-moving aid, many young Haitian Montrealers, either born here or in Haiti, have been spurred to action, creating a buzzing grassroots web of devoted hearts wanting to rebuild the country, whether it be through fundraising concerts and fashion shows or frantically collecting tents and tarps to get to the nation before the heavy rains begin.

Their short life paths have differed so far, but the one thing that ties much of the younger generation of Haitians here is that many of their parents left their native land during the brutal three-decade reign of the Duvalier family, sapping the country of much of its brain power and professionals.

And now this young, trilingual, vibrant generation, which has been educated in Canada, feels a strong calling to go back and reshape a country most of them don’t know, apart from the horror stories their parents told them of Duvalier’s security forces, the notorious Tonton Macoutes.

Their days immediately following the Jan. 12 disaster were spent on computers networking by means foreign to their parents’ generation – texting, Facebooking, Skyping, tweeting.

Now that the initial shock has subsided, they’re getting down to business, putting whatever life dreams and ambitions they had before the quake on hold in order to rebuild a country that can finally shake off the negative stereotypes of the past. And at the same time, they are discovering, to their surprise, a love for a country some barely knew.

Sarah Bernard, a Concordia University communications and creative writing graduate who describes herself as a “huge nerd,” has helped set up a website called Union Haiti, a way of coordinating the myriad resources and aid going to Haiti via regular folk, as well as organizing the stacks of progress reports coming out of the country.

Motivated by the false rumours flying around cyberspace after the disaster, she and a couple dozen 20-somethings set up a newsroom and listened to Signale FM all day – the only Haitian radio station that was operating in the immediate aftermath. They fact-checked reports and at first posted everything on Facebook, until they got their own website set up.

“A lot of Haitians are putting their fields of expertise to work in this,” said Bernard, 24, who moved here from Haiti four years ago to study. “The brain drain needs to go back to Haiti.

“It’s kind of like we’re being called back there.”

She’d been in Haiti for the Christmas holidays and hadn’t even unpacked her bags in Montreal yet when the quake hit. Her dreams of applying to do a master’s somewhere in Europe and to travel went out the window.

“I was much younger on Jan. 11,” she said. “And there is so much to do now that I

really don’t have time to mourn.”

Jan. 23 was the first time Sandra Mathieu, 25, set foot in Haiti – a country her parents fled 30 years ago and have refused to discuss since.

She headed down, against her parents’ wishes, with an association of Haitian doctors living abroad. Working as a translator, she soon found herself pitching in to tend to the seriously wounded at the General Hospital in the capital of Port-au-Prince.

“Even the smallest thing you do there is huge for the victims,” she said. “They were so grateful, as if you’ve been sent from heaven.”

While there, dozens of people living on the street asked Mathieu where they could find tents, prompting her to collect the precious and badly needed items upon her return to Montreal.

“It broke my heart to say I didn’t know, especially when Canada has raised so much money,” she said.

After hooking up with a group of concerned Canadians also collecting tents, they’ve set aside the weekend of March 26 to 28 to accept gently used or new tents at several drop-off points around the city.

St-Victor, who was born in Lac St. Jean, and Angelo Cadet, who left Haiti at age 2, have helped organize a fashion show at Ogilvy Wednesday night – the third event they’ve been involved in to raise funds.

It’s the kind of dedication Mathieu, who has quit her computer development job partly because of Haiti, would like to see in every Quebecer, no matter what their background.

“I’d like to see people go there and help,” she said. “People in Haiti are saying, ‘Bring your friends because Haiti needs you.’ ”

Wednesday’s Ogilvy fashion show is at 6:45 p.m. Tickets cost $100 and are tax deductible; for reservations, call 1-877-449-0446 or visit www.wantickets.com/ogilvypourunite

Details about the March 26-28 tent drive can be found at homeinhaitimtl.wordpress.com

The site maintained by Sarah Bernard for UnionHaiti is at www.unionhaiti.org

smontgomery@thegazette.canwest.com

© Copyright (c) The Montreal Gazette

Article by Sue Montgomery of the Gazette on young Montrealers with roots in Haiti and their efforts toward rebuilding their homeland.

Event | Swap N' Shop For Haiti | March 20th

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***DONATION (clothes, bags, music, cosmetics, electronics, shoes, accessories etc) DROP OFF LOCATIONS:

WEST ISLAND
San Tropez Dance School
54 Brunswick blvd.

DOWNTOWN
Sin City
4107A Rue Saint-Denis

Until March 13th 2010, donate as many items (old/new/vintage/etc) as you would like. In return, we'll be holding a big "Vintage" shop festival on the day of the event. We will also holding a dating auction, so all you single men and women, be ready to bid on your favorite bachelor and bachelorettes! All proceeds from the sale, dating auction and any left over items will be donated to Haiti.