The Standard MCC Homestay

When we accepted our position here in Haiti, we knew that we were also accepting the typical MCC home-stay. The obvious aim of a home-stay is to experience the life of local people, begin language learning and delve into the culture. When we arrived at our home-stay in the Haitian countryside, all the expected clichés of rural living were there: we bathed in a stream; read by a kerosene lamp; and ‘used’ a hole in the ground. The concrete structure was stained and cracked and the tin roof made our ears hurt when it rained.

This was all anticipated. Perhaps we were even looking forward to getting ‘back to the basics’. The night we arrived, we talked with the family with our limited Creole and sang Haitian hymns with my guitar. We fell asleep with our romanticized notions of rural living intact.

The next day, however, the realities of living in the Haitian countryside became apparent- We had absolutely nothing to do. The entire first day we sat on the concrete porch with some members of our host family, and literally did nothing. Steve, the fourteen year-old nephew of our host mother got his hair cut with soap, water, and a Bic razor. That’s all I remember from that day.

Naturally, we really looked forward to our daily afternoon Creole lessons or the times we visited MCC programs in reforestation. We also anticipated the days we had laundry to do, as it added a little ‘break’ in our otherwise empty day.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that Haitians were also living with “nothing to do.” Some worked in their family gardens to provide food for their families, other “lucky” ones were teachers in elementary schools (they were even luckier if they actually got paid at the end of the year). Otherwise, the day was just as long for them as it was for us.

In Haiti, formal unemployment is estimated to be upwards of 70%. The lack of work leads many Haitians from the countryside to migrate to the cities in hope for employment. Through reforestation and the import of cheaper, often US made foodstuffs, rural farmers cannot keep up productivity so come to the city looking for other means of employment, of which there is little. In Port-au-Prince, one Haitian explained that the mornings were the hardest because it was just the start of another day with nothing to do.

By the time our home-stay was complete, a month later, we were excited to start work and feel useful again. Living without running water or electricity was the easy part. Living without having something to do was unexpected and difficult. Unlike most Haitians, the difficult part for us only lasted a month.

Still, to focus solely on this one negative aspect of rural living does a disservice to Haiti and our time in the countryside. Like many other developing countries, the family unit is exceptionally close, and the reliance on one another is something we have definitely lost in North America. Below is a short video which hopefully represents the Haitian countryside in a joyful light. The singing is courtesy of a men’s choir from the village of Kristan, where we stayed. Originally it was heartbreaking to listen to their music and know that their talents will likely never break the borders of Kristan. However, upon further reflection, we found that God had given them a talent and they are using it to bless others. I have no idea what each of those men did for a living, but every time they practice, and every time they perform, they are using the gifts God has given them… and that is beautiful.

Selected Haitian Proverb: Sak vid, pa kanpe (An empty sack can’t stand up)

Intercultural Exchange Moment: “I know MCC. I think they are good people. They know how to have a good time with Haitians, but they also really like their own space sometimes.” Haitian woman in Dezarm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyqE3jiE_iE