I have just been through the rigmarole of applying for a new passport and foreign visas.
What follows is a review/rant of the entire process.
It will be long and detailed.
Before I start, let me clarify a few things. I have been traveling since I was five years old and, other than a 10 year gap, have obtained a passport and visas, relatively easily. The problem for me is HOW you go about getting these documents.
Before anything else, my first step was to get passport photos. The closest photo studio asks 475gdes for 4 photos + 1 file on CD. I find the price a bit high but at least it's near instant delivery.
Now, I needed a new passport. I let my passport and accompanying visas lapse because I simply could not afford to do otherwise. A major project that took all my funds. I realize now that this was a mistake that I vow never to repeat again.
So, I had my passport renewed through a travel agency that is physically close to the Immigration offices and, thus, has a well-earned reputation for having their contacts inside. I chose to do so because the prospect of going through the normal channels was harrowing.
Who isn't shocked at the sight of all these people standing for hours in the sun on the sidewalk in front of the Immigration office? Who isn't disgusted by this sorry spectacle? The government still doesn't offer passport services in every département in the country, forcing most people to travel and reside here in the capital, some times for several days or weeks!
The agency has a rather high fee of 4000 gdes per passport. This is the emergency fee (at least double the normal cost of the passport + their profit). So I paid three to four times the base price…just so I didn't have to personally deal with local administration.
Most people who can afford it choose this route. Draw all necessary conclusions.
About three week after paying the agency and filing out the forms, we got a call that we were needed at the Immigration office for fingerprinting and photography. Though I was going through this process with my mother, given her age (74), she is exempted from these additional procedures.
The rant for this part of the process is two-fold.
First, and sadly unsurprisingly, the computer system went down the day of my appointment so I had to return the next day. Making me late for work two days in a row since public officials here are not early risers (unlike me!). So there was that issue to negotiate with my boss.
Second, the travel agency clearly is in a situation of monopoly and feels no need to exert more than minimal service. Other than calling me at dawn to tell me to come for the Immigration office, they did not tell me to bring a copy of my id, forcing me to pay an exorbitant price at a conveniently close street photocopy service. Literally, a guy with a photocopier on a wood table, with an extension cord illegally hooked up to the electrical pole.
Worse still, the agency filled out the passport form me and wanted to put down that I was 1m57 (5'2) and 55kg (121 lbs). I'm actually 1m53 (5ft 1/4in) and 53kg (116 lbs) so had them correct that. The implications of that are consternating.
Then, after the fingerprinting, no news from them at all. For weeks. I was really busy with work then and didn't realize three weeks had gone by when I finally called them.
My passport is dated Feb 12th, two weeks after I went to Immigration. And it was clear that they would not call me themselves.
On to the visa application. I applied for both a Canadian tourist visa and a United States tourist visa.
I must clarify that I chose to go through the process alone because agencies ask a $50US fee or the equivalent in gourdes to do the filing for you. I think that is too expensive for the minimal work that they do.
The Canadian tourist visa application was done entirely online. I strongly recommend scanning all your document BEFORE going online.
So the process is to first, take a quiz to determine what supporting documents you will have to submit. It's interactive so whatever you input, you will be required to provide written proof of later on. At the end of the quiz, you get a checklist.
Then, you need to sign up for a profile on the CA government's immigration website. Be warned that this requires half a dozen or more secret questions and answers, most of which you have to create yourself. Since I was filing for both my mother and myself, I was quickly annoyed with all of that!!!
So you sign in and after secret questions and dire warnings, you get to the upload page were you have to fill out the relevant forms and add each of the documents from your check list (in table form with upload buttons).
This is where I lost the most time. The CA website says it takes 15-20 minutes to go through the process. That wasn't my experience AT ALL!!!
We were going through a bad patch with our internet access (at home AND at work!!!) and downloading, filling out and uploading the main form was a constant struggle. First, I could not get the interactive PDF form to download. I dug up a copy of the form I must have downloaded some time in the past. Then I couldn't get the 4-page form to generate the fifth, bar code, page. That code page is the whole point of the online process.
There is a second form to fill out on the family but that is a plain PDF that I quickly filled out, printed out, signed, scanned and then uploaded.
You MUST upload ALL the documents on the table to access the payment page. Thankfully, that was easy-peasy and I was able to pay online with my local credit card. I got a couple of emails confirmations the same day.
The cost of the CA visa is $100 CAN for the visa fees and $185 CAN for the biometrics (fingerprinting and photography). I'm not sure I understand why a few minutes of face time with a CA employee has to cost $85 but whatever.
From that point on, it went fairly quickly. Two days after the upload, I got an email with an appointment letter for the biometrics, fingerprinting and photograph. I went to the designated office in Pétion-ville. Note, the horrible traffic jams in that sector, offset The next day, got an email requesting our passport, took them to the PV office and was told I would be alert via text or email when the passports were ready.
I deposited our passports on the 5th, got the text on the 21st of the same month so, all in all, the CA visa process took three weeks or so.
While I appreciated being able to apply and pay online, my biggest frustration was that doing so requires a strong internet signal. I also do not understand why I had to wait 1h to 1h30 for the biometrics and retrieval of the passports.
But the biggest question is WHY WAS THE PAYMENT IN USD ON MY CREDIT CARD!!?!?!?!? $142 US, with a daily rate since I finished my mother's application a week before my own and there is about $1 of difference.
Why could this not be billed in gourdes or CA dollars?
We both got a five year visa so this means as long a reprieve from the ordeal.
On to the US visa application. It too is done online. First, I had to fill out the visa application form. I find it quite annoying that here too, they expect you to be able to fill this out in 15 minutes. Maybe in a country with real 4G internet but that wasn't my experience.
I advise anyone reading this and considering online application to save your form at each step. Every 15 minutes, the site stops, logs you out and you have to start over. Ask me how I know!
The hardest part of the US visa process is that you have to outline all your previous visas and visits to the US for the last decade. It is exhausting and if you don't have your old passports, rather difficult to do.
Once you have filed out the form, you have to print out a page headlined Confirmation that features a number and your uploaded photo. Be sure to bring it to the appointment, lest you be more or less humiliated at the US consulate.
The next step is to get an account on the US immigration website. Compared to the CA process, this was fairly straight forward and, best of all, all the steps in the process are clearly outlined on one page. I had to specify how many visas to pay.
Let's stop and rant a little. The US consulate requires that you pay in gourdes. Great, but they also fix their own exchange rate of 65 gdes. So the visa fees come to 10,400gdes (rate valid until end of May, 2016 when I applied).
I learned from various people that, if you show up to pay with $160 USD, you get denied, if only because your money is not enough. Because the banks post 62,50 gdes. Very frustrating.
So with that payment slip, I went to the nearest Sogexpress. Another annoyance. The Sogexpress has a separate entrance from the main bank so you essentially have to go into the bank, get a wad of cash, go outside and enter the side office. It might have been a couple of meters but I did not feel safe at all.
I had forgotten my passport so had to come back another day. The first clerk checked my application number, I paid at the till and got a receipt. Done!
Back at home, I signed into the same website, confirmed the payment using the receipt number and was able to set up an appointment. I tried out different dates, and they all strangely have a 12h30 time.
My appointment was about 21 days later. I went early, as advised on the website. After some 15 minutes in the midday sun, the logistics of the small red tent out front were revised and I got to make a new line in the shade this time.
For those who do not know the Tabarre road were the US embassy and consulate is situated, it's a dirty thoroughfare, perpetually either in works or flooded when it rains. Nothing but fun!
The personnel there checked my name on a list, then I had to give my cell phone, USB flash drive (?) and any liquids or foods I might have. Then metal detectors and scanners.
Though they let in a large group, by my estimate about 80 people came in at the same time as I did, we were made to wait on benches on an outside pagoda. Nothing happened until exactly 12h30 when we filed into the consular offices. 8 out of 10 counters were manned.
First, they checked my Confirmation number and passport. You will not be issued a visa on a passport with less than 6 months validity. This means I will have to spend money again in summer 2020.
Moving on. Then another line for the fingerprinting and photograph. And, finally, the longest line for the face-to-face interview with the two consuls.
I will say that only 1 employee was truly personable and polite. The others ranged from perfunctory and terse to borderline rude. I was particularly upset to witness one of the employees snarking on a white-haired little old lady. Really classy!
When my turn came up, I wasn't asked too many questions: how long I had been at my current job, if I had brought my old passports (I hadn't) and then I got the visa and was told to pick it up at DHL in PV (my selection on the appmnt website) in about a week.
In all it took me about 2h30 to go through the whole in-person process. Next time, I will renew my visa through an agency within 12 months of its expiration.
Ok, so that was not brief. But I wanted to recount precisely and faithfully everything that I went through. Often, my relatives abroad have a vague idea of exactly how things happen here.
If you've been keeping tabs, you must have realized that it takes about 3 months to get a passport made, and apply for two separate visas. I know this is relatively fast for this country but I wonder how long it takes in other countries.
I can't tell you why none of the 6 other people who sat next to me in the wait area did not get a US visa. I'm conscious that money helps a lot: you can pay for an intermediate to do all the work, a fat bank account will certainly help getting the visas.
But the disappointment of so many was so palpable, it was disturbing. It's like going to an exam and failing, despite giving it your all. One case struck me as rather odd. Two young men were applying for the US visa in order to volunteer at the same (religious?) camp. One got approved, the other not. I don't get it.
Most notable of all, is the underlining feeling of disdain for the public in the manner, if not the words, of those involved in the passport and visa processes. I better understand why some people just refuse to attempt the visas at all. I can't make that choice, too many loved ones live abroad. But I understand it.
Saturday, June 04, 2016
Saturday, June 29, 2013
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Friday, March 08, 2013
Say my name, say my name
I felt today was appropriate to address something that has been more and more noticeable and annoying, in particular since it seems to concern mainly women.
In the last ten to fifteen years, it has become the norm to identify public figures, political or otherwise, by their full and complete names. Just not the female counterparts.
So where JFK would routinely be addressed as John Fitzgerald Kennedy in the press, his wife would only be called Jackie Bouvier Kennedy. And this goes beyond reading off some unknown's id for the first time. It is systematic.
Now, before I go into a partial, slightly rambling analysis of this phenomenon, let's do a little Local Naming Customs 101.
For a long time, it was the tradition among the predominantly Catholic population to give their children two or more baptismal names, usually that of the particular Saint the parents prayed to or the one on whose feast the child was born, or the name of a beloved (sometimes deceased but not always) family elder, in addition to what the French call the "prénom usuel" ie the given name the person usually responds to.
The name order used to be that the given name was the one closest to the family name. I have three baptismal names myself, my brother has four (parental enthusiasm towards the first born, obviously). Our names both start with Marie. As does my mother's, and most of my maternal aunts.
In the last generation or so, however, this has changed dramatically. While some people continue to name their children in this manner, whether they are Catholic or not, others have adopted a new naming style.
You see, it has become de rigueur to give birth in North America, that coveted foreign passport being seen as "giving the child a future" as a coworker once told me and so, worth any sacrifice.
Including our old naming tradition which has proved problematic to foreign immigration services.
Think about it. If you remove all the names after Marie, it is impossible, at first glance, to distinguish me from my brother based on our names alone. In order to simplify and adapt, parents now name their children in the Anglo-Saxon style (?) of First Name, Middle Name/Initial and Last Name.
These names, how ever many they may be, are all printed on your birth certificate, your id, your driver's license, passport, voter's card etc.
So how does this relate to the main topic of this post i.e. naming women?
Because the difference when addressing the sexes is so marked. Whenever the government is presented, both the President and the Prime Minister are each announced by First Name 1, First Name 2, and Last Name but the only woman "super minister", as they call them now, is listed as First Name, Maiden Name and Last Name.
This triumvirate, by the way, tends to project the image of being the "only one(s) who do any work".
Yes, several women of that cabinet are simply called by First and Last Name. Strangely enough, some of them are single, married or divorced so the logic escapes me.
Interesting fact: one of them never uses her maiden name because her parent was a high profile member of the Duvalier government. Seems as though she hides behind her husband's name even if my parents never fail to remind me of who she is Daughter Of. Given that parent's bloody reputation, I can almost understand.
However, usually, it seems, men are referred to in a way distinct from women. And given the current government's overwhelming love of photo ops and "good" press, I cannot help but notice this.
Where did this naming fashion come from? I am not sure. A friend suggests that it started with the Ex-President and that it was a way for him to fudge the issue of his real name. Yes, paranoia is rampant around here so both the thesis and the real could be true.
You might have guessed that I personally put a more feminist spin on this issue. Spitting out the entire baptismal name of someone gives their address a certain Old School flair. As if the litany of their names give the men in question more weight or more stature. For those who need it. Who can doubt that certain elected officials (and candidates) are so...unexpected in their posts that they need some measure of legitimacy that elections alone cannot give them?
As for women, I am torn. Either including their maiden name is considered the modern, feminist thing to do by not erasing their identity in favor of that of their husbands.
Or, to the contrary, it is a way of showing that she has political clout despite being a mere woman. Proving her worthiness by way of blood or marriage? That she got this job because of Who She Is (Daughter Of) and Where she Comes From (What Political or Social Sector)?
But how to explain those public/famous women who have only First and Las Name? Should I understand that they are old fashioned and cannot bother with all these verbal gymnastics? that their lineage is so obscure, it isn't worth the bother? or, worse still, that they are just placeholders who do not deserve more than their share of the limelight?
What's in a name? asked the playwright. Good question.
In the last ten to fifteen years, it has become the norm to identify public figures, political or otherwise, by their full and complete names. Just not the female counterparts.
So where JFK would routinely be addressed as John Fitzgerald Kennedy in the press, his wife would only be called Jackie Bouvier Kennedy. And this goes beyond reading off some unknown's id for the first time. It is systematic.
Now, before I go into a partial, slightly rambling analysis of this phenomenon, let's do a little Local Naming Customs 101.
For a long time, it was the tradition among the predominantly Catholic population to give their children two or more baptismal names, usually that of the particular Saint the parents prayed to or the one on whose feast the child was born, or the name of a beloved (sometimes deceased but not always) family elder, in addition to what the French call the "prénom usuel" ie the given name the person usually responds to.
The name order used to be that the given name was the one closest to the family name. I have three baptismal names myself, my brother has four (parental enthusiasm towards the first born, obviously). Our names both start with Marie. As does my mother's, and most of my maternal aunts.
In the last generation or so, however, this has changed dramatically. While some people continue to name their children in this manner, whether they are Catholic or not, others have adopted a new naming style.
You see, it has become de rigueur to give birth in North America, that coveted foreign passport being seen as "giving the child a future" as a coworker once told me and so, worth any sacrifice.
Including our old naming tradition which has proved problematic to foreign immigration services.
Think about it. If you remove all the names after Marie, it is impossible, at first glance, to distinguish me from my brother based on our names alone. In order to simplify and adapt, parents now name their children in the Anglo-Saxon style (?) of First Name, Middle Name/Initial and Last Name.
These names, how ever many they may be, are all printed on your birth certificate, your id, your driver's license, passport, voter's card etc.
So how does this relate to the main topic of this post i.e. naming women?
Because the difference when addressing the sexes is so marked. Whenever the government is presented, both the President and the Prime Minister are each announced by First Name 1, First Name 2, and Last Name but the only woman "super minister", as they call them now, is listed as First Name, Maiden Name and Last Name.
This triumvirate, by the way, tends to project the image of being the "only one(s) who do any work".
Yes, several women of that cabinet are simply called by First and Last Name. Strangely enough, some of them are single, married or divorced so the logic escapes me.
Interesting fact: one of them never uses her maiden name because her parent was a high profile member of the Duvalier government. Seems as though she hides behind her husband's name even if my parents never fail to remind me of who she is Daughter Of. Given that parent's bloody reputation, I can almost understand.
However, usually, it seems, men are referred to in a way distinct from women. And given the current government's overwhelming love of photo ops and "good" press, I cannot help but notice this.
Where did this naming fashion come from? I am not sure. A friend suggests that it started with the Ex-President and that it was a way for him to fudge the issue of his real name. Yes, paranoia is rampant around here so both the thesis and the real could be true.
You might have guessed that I personally put a more feminist spin on this issue. Spitting out the entire baptismal name of someone gives their address a certain Old School flair. As if the litany of their names give the men in question more weight or more stature. For those who need it. Who can doubt that certain elected officials (and candidates) are so...unexpected in their posts that they need some measure of legitimacy that elections alone cannot give them?
As for women, I am torn. Either including their maiden name is considered the modern, feminist thing to do by not erasing their identity in favor of that of their husbands.
Or, to the contrary, it is a way of showing that she has political clout despite being a mere woman. Proving her worthiness by way of blood or marriage? That she got this job because of Who She Is (Daughter Of) and Where she Comes From (What Political or Social Sector)?
But how to explain those public/famous women who have only First and Las Name? Should I understand that they are old fashioned and cannot bother with all these verbal gymnastics? that their lineage is so obscure, it isn't worth the bother? or, worse still, that they are just placeholders who do not deserve more than their share of the limelight?
What's in a name? asked the playwright. Good question.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Hit Me Baby One More Time
It seems the Cable Company has risen from its ashes. A coworker forwarded me this letter they sent out recently:
And I am tempted.
And conflicted. You see, at times, I hate the cable company. I really do.
Sure, now they have a brand new website whereas the old one was mostly a placeholder. It spells out all the new plans you could sign up for.
(I do find it odd that the website seems to be entirely in English, though. While English as grown increasingly pervasive here, the employees function in Creole or French. Maybe their target audience is the NGO/IO people?):
The major change is that they have now associated with one of my ISPs which might prove convenient. According to their price list, if I chose the double play option, my internet bill would automatically slashed in half.
But this comeback is problematic for me. First, the wording of their email is misleading. They say that the basic plan will give you 25 (the website says 26 channels). However, on closer look, that is a misrepresentation, to say the least. Let's look at the channels listed in the left-most column:
The first one is their own channel. In the past (read: prior to 2010) they had a very light programming. Only the newscast and a couple of talk shows, as I remember it. The rest of the time, the channel displayed Canadian programming and the occasional official live broadcast of elections, carnival etc. The other "local" channel was 3, only made up of program listings and commercials.
The next five channels listed are FREE LOCAL CHANNELS. Yes, I get them now with the bunny ears. How, then, could they seriously advertise them as paid-for channels? So you would actually be getting only 18 "real" channels.
My US readers will recognize most of the channels, I'm sure.
So what is my problem? Let's do a little backstory, shall we?
My father signed up for the cable service back in the early 1970s so we have gone through several mutations, mainly in price. Before the earthquake, we had about 60 channels. Or, should I say, they advertised as much. Some neighborhoods could not get the signal for all the channels.
In the past 10 years, the most note-worthy changes were when they forced us to purchase decoder boxes in late 2003. It cost $77 USD or we were told we would not get any channels. In the beginning of this adventure, they use to black-out more and more channels for every day you were late in payment.
They raised the prices at least 3 times since. Then, in December 2008, they announced we would need a new decoder because the company was going digital. I was puzzled because the US and Fr, which represent the bulk of the channels offered back then, were going digital in June 2010 and November 2011 respectively. Why the rush? I resisted the change, in part also because the new decoder was $88 USD. And they would neither take back the old one, "it belongs to you now" nor give existing clients a rebate.
They removed about 3 channels by the end of 2009, including my beloved HBO.
Then the earthquake happened and we were sure the company was done with. In late July 2010, they sent out an email that I did not receive. The account is still in my father's name and he does not have an email address. The Cable Company did not try to reach its clients in any other way. I emailed and I called, nothing.
What they were offering was a 50% rebate on their new competitor, the Satellite Company. You can see here, highlighted segment were they spelled out the offer:
For those who do not read French, it says that you will get a 50% off IF the Cable Company gives you a ticket.
I never got that rebate. Well, I don't actually miss it since the equipment + service would cost me almost $1000 USD.
But my problems don't just come from miscommunication. Their costumer service was notoriously bad and their practices deeply upsetting to me.
About 10 years ago, the Cable company offered the option of paying at any branch of a local bank instead of coming all the way downtown, I-can-smell-the-sea-from-here-downtown.
Problem was I had my service cut several times because they thought I hadn't paid. I'm always, ALWAYS on time with my bills. I'm the sort of woman who has a budget and a schedule. Seriously. When I called to complain, they told me they had no way of knowing who paid when. Their solution was to ask me to CALL THEM EVERY TIME I HAD PAID AT THE BANK TO DICTATE THE DEPOSIT SLIP NUMBER!!!
I refused to do it but my mother did so religiously.
And then there were the fees. An employee once came to cut our service for overdue fee. They were wrong, of course, as I've said above. But my brother wasn't aware of this, so he paid him. And they billed me for 40gdes + 10% TCA (sales tax) for "at home payment services".
When I moved in 2007, they charged me 880gdes for the move + 440 gdes + TCA for a length of cable, roughly the price of one month's subscription at the time. The technician said that he could not reuse the old cable and that it belong to us. Note that he never came to our old house but went directly to the new one.
So you can understand that, while the local channels I get with the bunny ears are DEAD BORING (don't worry, it's an upcoming post), I just don't want to get into this mess again.
I spoke to an employee yesterday and there are no special considerations of any kind for the old clients. He only mentioned that the 2009 decoder box might be reused. I told him most of what I've outlined in this email and he suggested I write an email. Which I did this morning.
A coworker knows somebody who knows somebody who works for the ISP and right new they are testing the service with about 200 clients and it is not going well.
I cannot wait to see how this unfolds.
And I am tempted.
And conflicted. You see, at times, I hate the cable company. I really do.
Sure, now they have a brand new website whereas the old one was mostly a placeholder. It spells out all the new plans you could sign up for.
(I do find it odd that the website seems to be entirely in English, though. While English as grown increasingly pervasive here, the employees function in Creole or French. Maybe their target audience is the NGO/IO people?):
The major change is that they have now associated with one of my ISPs which might prove convenient. According to their price list, if I chose the double play option, my internet bill would automatically slashed in half.
But this comeback is problematic for me. First, the wording of their email is misleading. They say that the basic plan will give you 25 (the website says 26 channels). However, on closer look, that is a misrepresentation, to say the least. Let's look at the channels listed in the left-most column:
The first one is their own channel. In the past (read: prior to 2010) they had a very light programming. Only the newscast and a couple of talk shows, as I remember it. The rest of the time, the channel displayed Canadian programming and the occasional official live broadcast of elections, carnival etc. The other "local" channel was 3, only made up of program listings and commercials.
The next five channels listed are FREE LOCAL CHANNELS. Yes, I get them now with the bunny ears. How, then, could they seriously advertise them as paid-for channels? So you would actually be getting only 18 "real" channels.
My US readers will recognize most of the channels, I'm sure.
So what is my problem? Let's do a little backstory, shall we?
My father signed up for the cable service back in the early 1970s so we have gone through several mutations, mainly in price. Before the earthquake, we had about 60 channels. Or, should I say, they advertised as much. Some neighborhoods could not get the signal for all the channels.
In the past 10 years, the most note-worthy changes were when they forced us to purchase decoder boxes in late 2003. It cost $77 USD or we were told we would not get any channels. In the beginning of this adventure, they use to black-out more and more channels for every day you were late in payment.
They raised the prices at least 3 times since. Then, in December 2008, they announced we would need a new decoder because the company was going digital. I was puzzled because the US and Fr, which represent the bulk of the channels offered back then, were going digital in June 2010 and November 2011 respectively. Why the rush? I resisted the change, in part also because the new decoder was $88 USD. And they would neither take back the old one, "it belongs to you now" nor give existing clients a rebate.
They removed about 3 channels by the end of 2009, including my beloved HBO.
Then the earthquake happened and we were sure the company was done with. In late July 2010, they sent out an email that I did not receive. The account is still in my father's name and he does not have an email address. The Cable Company did not try to reach its clients in any other way. I emailed and I called, nothing.
What they were offering was a 50% rebate on their new competitor, the Satellite Company. You can see here, highlighted segment were they spelled out the offer:
For those who do not read French, it says that you will get a 50% off IF the Cable Company gives you a ticket.
I never got that rebate. Well, I don't actually miss it since the equipment + service would cost me almost $1000 USD.
But my problems don't just come from miscommunication. Their costumer service was notoriously bad and their practices deeply upsetting to me.
About 10 years ago, the Cable company offered the option of paying at any branch of a local bank instead of coming all the way downtown, I-can-smell-the-sea-from-here-downtown.
Problem was I had my service cut several times because they thought I hadn't paid. I'm always, ALWAYS on time with my bills. I'm the sort of woman who has a budget and a schedule. Seriously. When I called to complain, they told me they had no way of knowing who paid when. Their solution was to ask me to CALL THEM EVERY TIME I HAD PAID AT THE BANK TO DICTATE THE DEPOSIT SLIP NUMBER!!!
I refused to do it but my mother did so religiously.
And then there were the fees. An employee once came to cut our service for overdue fee. They were wrong, of course, as I've said above. But my brother wasn't aware of this, so he paid him. And they billed me for 40gdes + 10% TCA (sales tax) for "at home payment services".
When I moved in 2007, they charged me 880gdes for the move + 440 gdes + TCA for a length of cable, roughly the price of one month's subscription at the time. The technician said that he could not reuse the old cable and that it belong to us. Note that he never came to our old house but went directly to the new one.
So you can understand that, while the local channels I get with the bunny ears are DEAD BORING (don't worry, it's an upcoming post), I just don't want to get into this mess again.
I spoke to an employee yesterday and there are no special considerations of any kind for the old clients. He only mentioned that the 2009 decoder box might be reused. I told him most of what I've outlined in this email and he suggested I write an email. Which I did this morning.
A coworker knows somebody who knows somebody who works for the ISP and right new they are testing the service with about 200 clients and it is not going well.
I cannot wait to see how this unfolds.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Flashback Friday
Yesterday morning (June 24th), there was a "small" quake of 3.5. My stomach contests the qualifier. In fact, my stomach, heart, blood pressure and brain categorically refuse to even acknowledge the Richter scale.
It was scary. It felt like someone had violently kicked my chair. Except they kicked the whole building.
I wanted to run. I grabbed my desk like a sprinter lines up on the starting block. Fortunately or unfortunately, I happened to be alone at the office with the only coworker who never seems to feel any strong emotion. I don't know if it's a high level of fortitude or some undiagnosed psycho-emotional disability, but he treated the whole thing like just another occurence. In fact, he seemed to take more pleasure in asking every single person he knew or met all day long if they felt it.
It's hard living with this stress. I know it's been over a year. I fooled myself into thinking I was getting over it. But I'm not. I'm as sick over it as I was in january of last year.
My boss called me on my phone shortly after but the call didn't go through. He came up about fifteen minutes after it happened and asked me why I hadn't evacuated the building like most of the employees. He wasn't here when the Goudougoudou happened so I could tell he was shaken and trying to hide it.
By then I was outside on the roof. Yes, that's the other reason I'm freaked out. My office was relocated to converted space literaly on top of a five-story building. You're not supposed to use elevators or stairs during a quake. How do I get down? I didn't even know people were outside. There is no alarm, there is no speaker system.
So I stayed on the roof for the better part of an hour with a couple of coworkers who had run up instead of down.
Nowhere to run is such a familiar feeling in this country, I should be used to it by now. Except I can't.
I also don't know how I'm going to survive all this stress. Kidnappings have started over again. After fifteen months of suspense, we still don't have a government, though we have a president. And now I have to deal with earthquakes again.
It's not that we have not accepted the fact that this island is on shaky ground. It's that NOTHING has changed between last January and today. Yes there are public service announcements about security measures and building construction safety.
Yet there is no Building Code and people are building all over the city. There is no Rescue Service that I know of. We still have the same set of hospitals plus health NGOs
At work, they told us last year that the three staircases were the exits to use in case of emergency.
Yeah, you read me right. I'm in a tall building and I have to use stairs to get out.
I don't know how we'll go on living like this. Whenever there's a noticeable quake, I want to run, I don't want to eat, I just wanna go home and stay there. In fact, today, I have to go out and I am scared of leaving the house. It's completely irrational but there it is.
Tragedy changes you. Permanently.
It was scary. It felt like someone had violently kicked my chair. Except they kicked the whole building.
I wanted to run. I grabbed my desk like a sprinter lines up on the starting block. Fortunately or unfortunately, I happened to be alone at the office with the only coworker who never seems to feel any strong emotion. I don't know if it's a high level of fortitude or some undiagnosed psycho-emotional disability, but he treated the whole thing like just another occurence. In fact, he seemed to take more pleasure in asking every single person he knew or met all day long if they felt it.
It's hard living with this stress. I know it's been over a year. I fooled myself into thinking I was getting over it. But I'm not. I'm as sick over it as I was in january of last year.
My boss called me on my phone shortly after but the call didn't go through. He came up about fifteen minutes after it happened and asked me why I hadn't evacuated the building like most of the employees. He wasn't here when the Goudougoudou happened so I could tell he was shaken and trying to hide it.
By then I was outside on the roof. Yes, that's the other reason I'm freaked out. My office was relocated to converted space literaly on top of a five-story building. You're not supposed to use elevators or stairs during a quake. How do I get down? I didn't even know people were outside. There is no alarm, there is no speaker system.
So I stayed on the roof for the better part of an hour with a couple of coworkers who had run up instead of down.
Nowhere to run is such a familiar feeling in this country, I should be used to it by now. Except I can't.
I also don't know how I'm going to survive all this stress. Kidnappings have started over again. After fifteen months of suspense, we still don't have a government, though we have a president. And now I have to deal with earthquakes again.
It's not that we have not accepted the fact that this island is on shaky ground. It's that NOTHING has changed between last January and today. Yes there are public service announcements about security measures and building construction safety.
Yet there is no Building Code and people are building all over the city. There is no Rescue Service that I know of. We still have the same set of hospitals plus health NGOs
At work, they told us last year that the three staircases were the exits to use in case of emergency.
Yeah, you read me right. I'm in a tall building and I have to use stairs to get out.
I don't know how we'll go on living like this. Whenever there's a noticeable quake, I want to run, I don't want to eat, I just wanna go home and stay there. In fact, today, I have to go out and I am scared of leaving the house. It's completely irrational but there it is.
Tragedy changes you. Permanently.
Monday, June 13, 2011
The Thrill of It All
This morning, I didn't go directly to work. I had a couple of errands to run in Midtown so I took a detour from work.
My appointment was on time, if lengthy, but I came out happy and feeling optimistic. One of my errands just didn't happen.
So, this morning, I took the bus up to the Golden Suburb. Public transportation here, just isn't. It's private, communal transportation really. Which might explain the lack of standards and the haphazard nature of it all.
This morning, I spent a good third of the ride on some accomodating stranger's lap. He was very kind and respectful but I still felt compelled to drape my upper half over the back of the bench in front of me.
This morning, it turns out, I was not only sitting on a stranger but I was actually, and more importantly, sitting next to an armed homicidal thief.
It happened when the bus stopped at the last big intersection halfway between the two cities. I was texting so I don't recall all the details. Except when I looked up, this guy got on the bus while that man, my former seatmate, was shouting directives from the door. I didn't see the gun but others did. One had on a brown shirt, the other had a striped polo.
When the victim, sitting directly in front of me, resisted, Striped Polo said to Brown Shirt "Just kill the bitch and grab the fucking bag". The victim's neighbor, a cool-headed lady, threw the bag to the thieves. They both got down, climbed onto a motorcycle and drove off with a last angry glare at us all.
Some of the passengers told the victim to go back to the bank and ask the director to get her money back, convinced as they were that the teller must be in on it. Others thought she should go to the police. I told her to get the police and go to the bank. Brown Shirt, in a random act of kindness, had flung back at her feet the bible in which she'd hidden the US dollar cash withdrawal she had just made.
This morning, I rushed home in a daze and burst into tears recounting the event because this man, this armed and cold-blooded stranger sitting next to me, plotting this crime, was both willing and able to kill this woman for money. In front of me. Inside a bus full of regular people, squeezed in tight and dripping with sweat now that the tropical heat had defeated these past weeks of rain. At 9h30 in the morning, on a busy thoroughfare.
I spent the day with a lingering headache. You see, I was supposed to go to the bank myself. Maybe not to take out thousands of dollars in cash but I do unfortunately "look like money" as the other guy once said.
This morning, I was reminded of how exposed and alone we are in the face of crime in this city.
This morning, we all walked away alive if shaken and scared.
But what about tomorrow?
My appointment was on time, if lengthy, but I came out happy and feeling optimistic. One of my errands just didn't happen.
So, this morning, I took the bus up to the Golden Suburb. Public transportation here, just isn't. It's private, communal transportation really. Which might explain the lack of standards and the haphazard nature of it all.
This morning, I spent a good third of the ride on some accomodating stranger's lap. He was very kind and respectful but I still felt compelled to drape my upper half over the back of the bench in front of me.
This morning, it turns out, I was not only sitting on a stranger but I was actually, and more importantly, sitting next to an armed homicidal thief.
It happened when the bus stopped at the last big intersection halfway between the two cities. I was texting so I don't recall all the details. Except when I looked up, this guy got on the bus while that man, my former seatmate, was shouting directives from the door. I didn't see the gun but others did. One had on a brown shirt, the other had a striped polo.
When the victim, sitting directly in front of me, resisted, Striped Polo said to Brown Shirt "Just kill the bitch and grab the fucking bag". The victim's neighbor, a cool-headed lady, threw the bag to the thieves. They both got down, climbed onto a motorcycle and drove off with a last angry glare at us all.
Some of the passengers told the victim to go back to the bank and ask the director to get her money back, convinced as they were that the teller must be in on it. Others thought she should go to the police. I told her to get the police and go to the bank. Brown Shirt, in a random act of kindness, had flung back at her feet the bible in which she'd hidden the US dollar cash withdrawal she had just made.
This morning, I rushed home in a daze and burst into tears recounting the event because this man, this armed and cold-blooded stranger sitting next to me, plotting this crime, was both willing and able to kill this woman for money. In front of me. Inside a bus full of regular people, squeezed in tight and dripping with sweat now that the tropical heat had defeated these past weeks of rain. At 9h30 in the morning, on a busy thoroughfare.
I spent the day with a lingering headache. You see, I was supposed to go to the bank myself. Maybe not to take out thousands of dollars in cash but I do unfortunately "look like money" as the other guy once said.
This morning, I was reminded of how exposed and alone we are in the face of crime in this city.
This morning, we all walked away alive if shaken and scared.
But what about tomorrow?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Ghostland
Note: I originally wrote this about a month after the earthquake. I never published it, despite my promises to everyone. I just couldn't reread this without bursting into tears. I apologize for the grammar or spelling errors. Thank you for understanding.
Some things I can’t forget. Like all the people coming towards me out of the white mist, pale faces, eyes wide and empty, screaming and crying their fear and despair. At least, I think they were screaming, I couldn’t hear them. The world had gone mute. Or, if I could, indeed, physically hear their voices, my brain was unable to process the stimuli.
I was on my way home, hitching a ride, as I usually did, with my coworker N. Since her niece worked at the Ministry of Commerce, a few blocks from my house, she drops me off almost every day.
We took the predictable route: up from downtown via rue Pavée. There was a lot of traffic that day. I told N. that it must have been due to the launch of another long series of protests the Association of Layed Off Workers had inaugurated that day on the Champ de Mars. We had left work late enough that day for this unusually large number of cars to be noted.
We turned up in front of the Presidential Palace, right at the National Museum. N. is a creature of habit so she would have turned left on Ave Magny except there were students burning tires at the next corner. We tried the next street over, same situation
N asked me where to turn so I suggested going past the old US Consulate to circle back towards the Champ de Mars towards the Ministry of Commerce. This is were it happened.
I didn’t know it was an earthquake. I just know that chaos erupted, people were running around, cars and trucks left their lanes. And we weren’t going forward anymore. This big bus was coming towards us and I got scared. I asked N why we weren’t moving. She said it wasn’t her, the car was shaking. I stupidly thought that her transmission was shot. Of course, this didn’t explain why we were shaking like a maraca.
N told me to get out of the car, which I did. I could see smoke coming from the roundabout. I ran towards the X-ray clinic and squatted in front of an old Datsun. Red, I think it was. I laugh now at my strong conviction that this was some consequence of the riot. I remember thinking “why doesn’t all this tear gas burn my eyes or throat?”and then I said aloud “Funny, I don’t hear gun shots”.
This was when the man standing next to me said “Miss, this is an earthquake”. All of a sudden, things made sense. I saw his arm was bloody. “the wall fell on the candy vendor next to me” he said. I looked around, looking for N. It was then that I noticed how diverse the crowd was: young, old, all with wild or dazed faces.
We got back into the car, N and I, and turned around to drive up Rue St Honoré. The entire wall of the Enthnology faculty was lying on the street. We drove up the block to rue Capois but a traffic jam had already formed. N told me we had to go get her niece at the Ministry. The usually calm and collected N was looking a bit frantic while I felt dazed and detached. This young man came up and told us to stay calm, he would accompany us. I turned around and the Champ de Mars was white. People, like Gede worshippers, their faces and arms powdered with what would turn out to be dust
from the Presidential Palace and the surrounding Ministries. Some were stained red from their bleeding wounds.
I remember seeing five Muslim UN soldiers, three kneeling, two standing calling to Allah to protect
them.
We circled around the lower corner fo the square. When the Ministries came into view, I had to grab on to N or she would have gone running towards the site. The building was gone! In fact, I kept looking for buildings that were not there. Like the Palace hotel .i was in such shock that I couldn’t understand what my eyes were seeing.
N. ‘s niece was alive but she had received a violent shock to the head from falling debris. She would go into shock later, in the car. I thought she was going to die. We must have spent an hour trying to care for her wit the help of a young med student and his sister. I don’t even remember their names now but I am grateful.
I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. I don’t know CPR and don’t know how to drive. At one point, this man got out of the small SUV in front of us and told us he needed to get his brother to the hospital but didn’t know how to drive. I tried asking people going by for help but was ignored.
I was dropped off at home around 6h15 pm by my estimate. The padlock was still on the smaller outside gate so I know my mother wasn’t home. Night had fallen and in the half light of dusk I could tell the house was destroyed though the façade was standing. I looked through the car gate and could see rubble in the driveway, the French doors of the living room. I called my dogs and my cat but they didn’t come. I tried not to think about that too much.
I decided to walk up the nine blocks to my mother’s work. At the neighbor’s house at the opposite end of our street, this SUV stopped. The driver got out, a man about my age with a red shirt. I remember well because the burst of color was a shock to my eyes after all the white and black fo the square. I remember also because of what happened next. He joined the rest of his family in the yard, took one look at the fallen house and ran away. They called his name, he looked back, eyes wide, but kept running. I thought he would fall or get hit by a car. I walked on, all the while trying to get my parents and aunt on the phone without success. I stumbled over the bricks of the Sacré Coeur church; the steeple was in the middle of the street.
The street was full of crying people, walking up or down, cars trying to drive around the wreckage, other vehicles abandoned.
I took a detour towards the old family home to check on my Great-Uncle. For some reason, my mother answered finally while I was standing across from the house, looking at Uncle’s slight frame sitting, as always, on his galerie. A typical scene if not for the fact that the upper story had collapsed on one side. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. The minute I heard my mother’s voice on the phone, this wail bent me in half. I almost couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even stop this animalistic sound. She told me she was safe, in a neighborhood not far, with other employees.
How does one forget such overwhelming fear and sadness? None of us slept that night. I kept either pacing back and forth, or sitting, blankly staring at the walls, and the electric cables or the gate. I had joined my old neighbors by then. We spent the night in the street, sitting on chairs and benches. While time seemed to drag on for me and dawn seemed to take forever to come, others in the group felt it rushed by. I couldn’t even close my eyes, too afraid that a big tremor would bring the houses down. The ground never seemed to stop moving that first night. Every couple of hours, the gate would knock against the wall. One could hear the screams of fear coming up from the Champ de Mars, like a wave, with every aftershock.
Today still, some images will rise up inside of me, unexpectedly. Like this woman in Ti Four, a boy and a girl firmly in each hand, saying over and over again “I can’t leave him down there. I have to go get him from school. He’s my son, I need to get him” while walking towards the city center.
Like the corpse of this street vendor in front of Five Stars Market, one arm embracing the electric pole on the side walk, seeming asleep but unequivocally dead.
Like the muffled voice of this woman, the day after, calling out from beneath Saint Louis Roi de France church. And the reassurances that she would be saved by the neighbors frantically pulling away the bricks. They did save her. She did make it out.
At least, I hope so.
Some things I can’t forget. Like all the people coming towards me out of the white mist, pale faces, eyes wide and empty, screaming and crying their fear and despair. At least, I think they were screaming, I couldn’t hear them. The world had gone mute. Or, if I could, indeed, physically hear their voices, my brain was unable to process the stimuli.
I was on my way home, hitching a ride, as I usually did, with my coworker N. Since her niece worked at the Ministry of Commerce, a few blocks from my house, she drops me off almost every day.
We took the predictable route: up from downtown via rue Pavée. There was a lot of traffic that day. I told N. that it must have been due to the launch of another long series of protests the Association of Layed Off Workers had inaugurated that day on the Champ de Mars. We had left work late enough that day for this unusually large number of cars to be noted.
We turned up in front of the Presidential Palace, right at the National Museum. N. is a creature of habit so she would have turned left on Ave Magny except there were students burning tires at the next corner. We tried the next street over, same situation
N asked me where to turn so I suggested going past the old US Consulate to circle back towards the Champ de Mars towards the Ministry of Commerce. This is were it happened.
I didn’t know it was an earthquake. I just know that chaos erupted, people were running around, cars and trucks left their lanes. And we weren’t going forward anymore. This big bus was coming towards us and I got scared. I asked N why we weren’t moving. She said it wasn’t her, the car was shaking. I stupidly thought that her transmission was shot. Of course, this didn’t explain why we were shaking like a maraca.
N told me to get out of the car, which I did. I could see smoke coming from the roundabout. I ran towards the X-ray clinic and squatted in front of an old Datsun. Red, I think it was. I laugh now at my strong conviction that this was some consequence of the riot. I remember thinking “why doesn’t all this tear gas burn my eyes or throat?”and then I said aloud “Funny, I don’t hear gun shots”.
This was when the man standing next to me said “Miss, this is an earthquake”. All of a sudden, things made sense. I saw his arm was bloody. “the wall fell on the candy vendor next to me” he said. I looked around, looking for N. It was then that I noticed how diverse the crowd was: young, old, all with wild or dazed faces.
We got back into the car, N and I, and turned around to drive up Rue St Honoré. The entire wall of the Enthnology faculty was lying on the street. We drove up the block to rue Capois but a traffic jam had already formed. N told me we had to go get her niece at the Ministry. The usually calm and collected N was looking a bit frantic while I felt dazed and detached. This young man came up and told us to stay calm, he would accompany us. I turned around and the Champ de Mars was white. People, like Gede worshippers, their faces and arms powdered with what would turn out to be dust
from the Presidential Palace and the surrounding Ministries. Some were stained red from their bleeding wounds.
I remember seeing five Muslim UN soldiers, three kneeling, two standing calling to Allah to protect
them.
We circled around the lower corner fo the square. When the Ministries came into view, I had to grab on to N or she would have gone running towards the site. The building was gone! In fact, I kept looking for buildings that were not there. Like the Palace hotel .i was in such shock that I couldn’t understand what my eyes were seeing.
N. ‘s niece was alive but she had received a violent shock to the head from falling debris. She would go into shock later, in the car. I thought she was going to die. We must have spent an hour trying to care for her wit the help of a young med student and his sister. I don’t even remember their names now but I am grateful.
I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. I don’t know CPR and don’t know how to drive. At one point, this man got out of the small SUV in front of us and told us he needed to get his brother to the hospital but didn’t know how to drive. I tried asking people going by for help but was ignored.
I was dropped off at home around 6h15 pm by my estimate. The padlock was still on the smaller outside gate so I know my mother wasn’t home. Night had fallen and in the half light of dusk I could tell the house was destroyed though the façade was standing. I looked through the car gate and could see rubble in the driveway, the French doors of the living room. I called my dogs and my cat but they didn’t come. I tried not to think about that too much.
I decided to walk up the nine blocks to my mother’s work. At the neighbor’s house at the opposite end of our street, this SUV stopped. The driver got out, a man about my age with a red shirt. I remember well because the burst of color was a shock to my eyes after all the white and black fo the square. I remember also because of what happened next. He joined the rest of his family in the yard, took one look at the fallen house and ran away. They called his name, he looked back, eyes wide, but kept running. I thought he would fall or get hit by a car. I walked on, all the while trying to get my parents and aunt on the phone without success. I stumbled over the bricks of the Sacré Coeur church; the steeple was in the middle of the street.
The street was full of crying people, walking up or down, cars trying to drive around the wreckage, other vehicles abandoned.
I took a detour towards the old family home to check on my Great-Uncle. For some reason, my mother answered finally while I was standing across from the house, looking at Uncle’s slight frame sitting, as always, on his galerie. A typical scene if not for the fact that the upper story had collapsed on one side. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. The minute I heard my mother’s voice on the phone, this wail bent me in half. I almost couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even stop this animalistic sound. She told me she was safe, in a neighborhood not far, with other employees.
How does one forget such overwhelming fear and sadness? None of us slept that night. I kept either pacing back and forth, or sitting, blankly staring at the walls, and the electric cables or the gate. I had joined my old neighbors by then. We spent the night in the street, sitting on chairs and benches. While time seemed to drag on for me and dawn seemed to take forever to come, others in the group felt it rushed by. I couldn’t even close my eyes, too afraid that a big tremor would bring the houses down. The ground never seemed to stop moving that first night. Every couple of hours, the gate would knock against the wall. One could hear the screams of fear coming up from the Champ de Mars, like a wave, with every aftershock.
Today still, some images will rise up inside of me, unexpectedly. Like this woman in Ti Four, a boy and a girl firmly in each hand, saying over and over again “I can’t leave him down there. I have to go get him from school. He’s my son, I need to get him” while walking towards the city center.
Like the corpse of this street vendor in front of Five Stars Market, one arm embracing the electric pole on the side walk, seeming asleep but unequivocally dead.
Like the muffled voice of this woman, the day after, calling out from beneath Saint Louis Roi de France church. And the reassurances that she would be saved by the neighbors frantically pulling away the bricks. They did save her. She did make it out.
At least, I hope so.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
It's the little things
So now we are in the last days of the electoral campaign and things are getting interesting. The violence everyone had feared is starting to rear its ugly head and we are all bracing ourselves.
I confess I haven't been following the campaign as religiously as others around me seem to have. But that doesn't mean I don't have an opinion.
Instead, my days and nights and thoughts are full of my routine.
Let me tell you about my day. I woke this morning to the sound of the cola depot next door's generator. They had been stacking boxes since 3 am at least, as usual.
Then, at the evangelical church next to the depot, the prayer guy with the crappy voice and crappier bullhorn started in on his litany.
This was 5am in the morning.
I was happy to see there was electricity but I had prepared several outfits for the week, in case I didn't get any. This also meant my spaghetti lunch didnt'spoil, always a good thing.
So I got dressed and tiptoed my way throught the junk in the alley, up the stairs. The pigs were in good shape and the pile of metal scraps the local junker was amassing managed not to crumble on my head. So far so good.
I went up the stairs, dodging the dirty water pools and random litter to wait for my ride on street level.
Now, I do this every morning: I stand about a quarter of a block away from the bridge/ravine but it didn't work this morning. Some guy was already climbing over the railing with two pig carcasses. The improvised slaughter house in the ravine had been working seriously early. I'm just glad I missed the actual deed. I'm a meat eater but I don't want the details! Thankfully, he put them in a wheelbarrow, tied them up and promptly pushed off for the nearby market.
Lucky me, my ride was late today so I got to people watch: street vendors setting up their wares on little tables; moto taxis carting a mother and her two kids; what seems like hundreds of school kids in uniforms walking together, eating fried street food and drinking energy drinks; people talking on their cells, men wearing crocs and no helmet on their bikes.
Of course, leaving Petion-Ville at 6h50am means you get to enjoy a traffic jam all the way downtown. Thankfully, once you pass what used to be the school district, things clear up pretty much by the time you reach Champ de Mars.
The tent cities that cover all the squares have become part of the scenery. The prude in me is still a bit startled to see people bathing on the sidewalks, though, to their credit, people keep some form of underwear on while doing so.
The city is still busy. Junkers are still digging throught the rubble for scraps. You recognize them by the backpacks they wear. Of course, I'm not really happy to go to work. After the aftershocks on three consecutive days last week, I worry that some of the damaged buildings might be shaken loose. Nothing has happened yet but only fools drive idly under something like Hotel Nova Scotia. Of course, one is amazed by just how many qualify as fools...
Once I'm at work, it seems pretty normal. Except employee parking is now on the site of one of the fallen office buildings. And we still only have a handfull of neiboring businesses around us. But the streets are full of people.
I'm lucky that I can go on the roof and look out on the city. The view of the bay is breathtaking...until you look down. You can trace the Boulevard by the permanent cloud of dust that covers it. It intensifies further North to the point where I thought it was smoke at first.
Things are as close to normal as we can manage at work. Of course, all the electricity is from generators. But at least a number of phone lines have been reinstated by the telcom company. I stay in my office all day long but I remember going to the bookstore or the departement store fondly. Ah, the good old days.
At the end of the day, I pass by all these things in reverse and it stays the same: I'm shocked by the same things, inured to the same spectacles, worried about the same dangers.
If I'm lucky, and the traffic wasn't too bad, when I get home it's still light, they're not burning great heaps of trash in the ravine, the pigs are alive (for now), the church is quiet and Abner is leaving the colas alone for a bit.
I'm just not that lucky that often.
I confess I haven't been following the campaign as religiously as others around me seem to have. But that doesn't mean I don't have an opinion.
Instead, my days and nights and thoughts are full of my routine.
Let me tell you about my day. I woke this morning to the sound of the cola depot next door's generator. They had been stacking boxes since 3 am at least, as usual.
Then, at the evangelical church next to the depot, the prayer guy with the crappy voice and crappier bullhorn started in on his litany.
This was 5am in the morning.
I was happy to see there was electricity but I had prepared several outfits for the week, in case I didn't get any. This also meant my spaghetti lunch didnt'spoil, always a good thing.
So I got dressed and tiptoed my way throught the junk in the alley, up the stairs. The pigs were in good shape and the pile of metal scraps the local junker was amassing managed not to crumble on my head. So far so good.
I went up the stairs, dodging the dirty water pools and random litter to wait for my ride on street level.
Now, I do this every morning: I stand about a quarter of a block away from the bridge/ravine but it didn't work this morning. Some guy was already climbing over the railing with two pig carcasses. The improvised slaughter house in the ravine had been working seriously early. I'm just glad I missed the actual deed. I'm a meat eater but I don't want the details! Thankfully, he put them in a wheelbarrow, tied them up and promptly pushed off for the nearby market.
Lucky me, my ride was late today so I got to people watch: street vendors setting up their wares on little tables; moto taxis carting a mother and her two kids; what seems like hundreds of school kids in uniforms walking together, eating fried street food and drinking energy drinks; people talking on their cells, men wearing crocs and no helmet on their bikes.
Of course, leaving Petion-Ville at 6h50am means you get to enjoy a traffic jam all the way downtown. Thankfully, once you pass what used to be the school district, things clear up pretty much by the time you reach Champ de Mars.
The tent cities that cover all the squares have become part of the scenery. The prude in me is still a bit startled to see people bathing on the sidewalks, though, to their credit, people keep some form of underwear on while doing so.
The city is still busy. Junkers are still digging throught the rubble for scraps. You recognize them by the backpacks they wear. Of course, I'm not really happy to go to work. After the aftershocks on three consecutive days last week, I worry that some of the damaged buildings might be shaken loose. Nothing has happened yet but only fools drive idly under something like Hotel Nova Scotia. Of course, one is amazed by just how many qualify as fools...
Once I'm at work, it seems pretty normal. Except employee parking is now on the site of one of the fallen office buildings. And we still only have a handfull of neiboring businesses around us. But the streets are full of people.
I'm lucky that I can go on the roof and look out on the city. The view of the bay is breathtaking...until you look down. You can trace the Boulevard by the permanent cloud of dust that covers it. It intensifies further North to the point where I thought it was smoke at first.
Things are as close to normal as we can manage at work. Of course, all the electricity is from generators. But at least a number of phone lines have been reinstated by the telcom company. I stay in my office all day long but I remember going to the bookstore or the departement store fondly. Ah, the good old days.
At the end of the day, I pass by all these things in reverse and it stays the same: I'm shocked by the same things, inured to the same spectacles, worried about the same dangers.
If I'm lucky, and the traffic wasn't too bad, when I get home it's still light, they're not burning great heaps of trash in the ravine, the pigs are alive (for now), the church is quiet and Abner is leaving the colas alone for a bit.
I'm just not that lucky that often.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Stir It Up
Author's note: I had planned to post this on the 9th but the internet did not cooperate.
Here we are, almost 10 days into the hurricane season and people are actually not looking at the sky. Oh, sure, even before June started, they were scrutinizing the mearest cloud, all worried frowns and pinched mouths. May was unusually rainy. But now, they seem to have almost forgotten the seasonal threat for a more immediat if familiar one.
Students are rioting, you see. What had started months ago as a low grumble has now spread through four different colleges. Discontented voices have become angry and confrontational protesters.
At first, it was to denounce the disconcerting changes in one school's program has become a rally around the recent law to raise the minimum wage.
You know how things happen in this country. We're one year into the Hope law and nothing seems to be moving forward. And now that the law is voted, increasing the daily minimum wage from 72 to 200 gourdes ($1.85 to $4.97 USD), everybody is upset. Industrials say they will have to fire half their personnel (a meager 25,000 factory workers). The more vocal senators and representatives are talking about " social injustices being righted". Economists are reiterating their calls to caution, competitivity with our neighbors and a progressive increase rather than a one-time boom.
The government, on the other hand, is silent. But that's how Rinse Repeat rolls. Mum's the word as a communication policy. You should try it. Really.
Of course, this whole wage debate isn't recent. Back on May 1st, while at the annual Agricultural Fair on the main square, protesters in favor of a 500gdes minimum had invested the plaza. A bit scary but this nice avocado grower explained to me, sotto voce, that she agreed with them. Things were too hard, these days, she said, and people need the money.
But now, the difference is that the alleged students are throwing rocks and burning cars. I'm on my fourth day of tear gas fumes. Yes, I live close enough to one faculty to enjoy the benefits of democracy in action.There's nothing like home, indeed.
The simple truth is we are not happy. There's the fact that the patch-up school year is closing with an upcoming gas rise (on top of the last one). And that several neighborhoods in the metropolitan area are without any electricity after suspicious fires at two major plants.
And before that, there were the elections, played out to an almost empty theatre. In the capital, anyway. The rest of the country seems to have been motivated enough. If you can call more or less 10% of voter turn-out a "success". I didn't vote but I do wonder *where* the government found the 5 MILLION dollars they contributed to the 16 MILLION DOLLAR budget. Act two, scene 1 is at the end of the month. (as if we care)
And even before that, there was the gas crisis of the New Year, and before that, the 2008 hurricane victims who are still waiting for help, and bridges, around the country.
Rumor has it that the next step is to as Rinse Repeat to step down.
Nope, we're not happy. Not happy at all.
Here we are, almost 10 days into the hurricane season and people are actually not looking at the sky. Oh, sure, even before June started, they were scrutinizing the mearest cloud, all worried frowns and pinched mouths. May was unusually rainy. But now, they seem to have almost forgotten the seasonal threat for a more immediat if familiar one.
Students are rioting, you see. What had started months ago as a low grumble has now spread through four different colleges. Discontented voices have become angry and confrontational protesters.
At first, it was to denounce the disconcerting changes in one school's program has become a rally around the recent law to raise the minimum wage.
You know how things happen in this country. We're one year into the Hope law and nothing seems to be moving forward. And now that the law is voted, increasing the daily minimum wage from 72 to 200 gourdes ($1.85 to $4.97 USD), everybody is upset. Industrials say they will have to fire half their personnel (a meager 25,000 factory workers). The more vocal senators and representatives are talking about " social injustices being righted". Economists are reiterating their calls to caution, competitivity with our neighbors and a progressive increase rather than a one-time boom.
The government, on the other hand, is silent. But that's how Rinse Repeat rolls. Mum's the word as a communication policy. You should try it. Really.
Of course, this whole wage debate isn't recent. Back on May 1st, while at the annual Agricultural Fair on the main square, protesters in favor of a 500gdes minimum had invested the plaza. A bit scary but this nice avocado grower explained to me, sotto voce, that she agreed with them. Things were too hard, these days, she said, and people need the money.
But now, the difference is that the alleged students are throwing rocks and burning cars. I'm on my fourth day of tear gas fumes. Yes, I live close enough to one faculty to enjoy the benefits of democracy in action.There's nothing like home, indeed.
The simple truth is we are not happy. There's the fact that the patch-up school year is closing with an upcoming gas rise (on top of the last one). And that several neighborhoods in the metropolitan area are without any electricity after suspicious fires at two major plants.
And before that, there were the elections, played out to an almost empty theatre. In the capital, anyway. The rest of the country seems to have been motivated enough. If you can call more or less 10% of voter turn-out a "success". I didn't vote but I do wonder *where* the government found the 5 MILLION dollars they contributed to the 16 MILLION DOLLAR budget. Act two, scene 1 is at the end of the month. (as if we care)
And even before that, there was the gas crisis of the New Year, and before that, the 2008 hurricane victims who are still waiting for help, and bridges, around the country.
Rumor has it that the next step is to as Rinse Repeat to step down.
Nope, we're not happy. Not happy at all.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
One Good Thing
While the usual turmoil is happening, I have found one good thing to look forward to this year:
BUT (isn't there always a but?) since the plantain tree is growing right at the edge of the vegetable garden, we had to be creative:
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Horse Speaks!
So, the government finally decided to address the gas issues we've all been struggling with. What did they say?
" Don't worry, there's not crisis. There is plenty of gas for everyone"
Okaaaay. Too late for me to believe them but the problem isn't there.
You see, the government is still not EXPLAINING why we started the year without gasoline. Oh, wait, that's not exactly true!
They also said it was all the Gas Distributor's fault.
What else is new?
And then they said it was because DEMAND had risen, particularly with the great number of motorcycles using up the gas lately.
Am I forgetting something?
...
Nope, I think that's it. Of course, nobody in this country, least of all the government, believes in Public Relations so I'm not surprised it took them all this time to even acknowledge that there was, not a crisis (see above), but at least public concern about energy and fuel in the first place!
But, back to the PR denial issue. The other reason I don't believe them is that a different, and, frankly, likely version of what is going on already out.
Last Saturday, an anonymous caller, claiming to work in the fuel industry, outlined for popular radio host/economist Kesner Pharel, what was going on backstage. Listen to him here. It starts at 58:50 of the recording.
(I have a copy saved in Real Player. Need to figure out how to podcast it)
For those who can't click through or in case the podcast is no longer available by the time you read this, here's what he said.
- First, we buy fuel exclusively from Hurricane Hugo's company. Meaning we are completely at his mercy. For the next 25 years, to boot. He apparently fired a lot of workers so if he can't sell us gas, we don't get gas.
- Second, the big tanker that usually brings the different fuels allegedly damaged the physical port and the owners are asking Texaco for one million USD. So Texaco doesn't have a contract with the government anymore and has stopped delivering. Shell took over but, not only do they not have a signed contract, they are using a smaller tanker to bring all the different fuels.
Bottom line: we're getting too little gas at irregular intervals.
Needless to say that neither the government nor the Gas Distributors has confirmed or denied these allegations (Boy, do I sound like a reporter/lawyer or what???)
This man didn't give his name so no way to know if this is true or not. But I like that he ended his call by saying that he spoke "words of truth". The above is soo simple, it might just be true!
The government would rather we believe that the gas distributors are delinquent and don't order gas regularly enough. Worse still, I heard on the news today that Hurricane Hugo wants us to pay cash whenever the barrel of crude falls under $50 US on the world market.
So while the big guys are [still] playing the blame game, people keep getting nasty surprises at the gas stations. Some aren't selling anything at all. My ride home from work stopped at two, one near the office, one near my house and they were both officially closed. Others have either regular or super but not both. Rumor has it that Diesel is about to dip into the red any day now.
According to the caller on the radio show, the tanker should come next Monday or Tuesday, instead of yesterday, the 27th. Meaning we're going to have another slooow week-end.
You know what pisses me off? That this same government has found FIVE MILLION DOLLARS US to contribute to the [half-way mythical] partial legislatives we're suppose to have mid-april. The international community will put up the other TWELVE MILLION needed to organize the vote.
Can't you tell how in synch we are? A real meeting of the minds.
Not.
" Don't worry, there's not crisis. There is plenty of gas for everyone"
Okaaaay. Too late for me to believe them but the problem isn't there.
You see, the government is still not EXPLAINING why we started the year without gasoline. Oh, wait, that's not exactly true!
They also said it was all the Gas Distributor's fault.
What else is new?
And then they said it was because DEMAND had risen, particularly with the great number of motorcycles using up the gas lately.
Am I forgetting something?
...
Nope, I think that's it. Of course, nobody in this country, least of all the government, believes in Public Relations so I'm not surprised it took them all this time to even acknowledge that there was, not a crisis (see above), but at least public concern about energy and fuel in the first place!
But, back to the PR denial issue. The other reason I don't believe them is that a different, and, frankly, likely version of what is going on already out.
Last Saturday, an anonymous caller, claiming to work in the fuel industry, outlined for popular radio host/economist Kesner Pharel, what was going on backstage. Listen to him here. It starts at 58:50 of the recording.
(I have a copy saved in Real Player. Need to figure out how to podcast it)
For those who can't click through or in case the podcast is no longer available by the time you read this, here's what he said.
- First, we buy fuel exclusively from Hurricane Hugo's company. Meaning we are completely at his mercy. For the next 25 years, to boot. He apparently fired a lot of workers so if he can't sell us gas, we don't get gas.
- Second, the big tanker that usually brings the different fuels allegedly damaged the physical port and the owners are asking Texaco for one million USD. So Texaco doesn't have a contract with the government anymore and has stopped delivering. Shell took over but, not only do they not have a signed contract, they are using a smaller tanker to bring all the different fuels.
Bottom line: we're getting too little gas at irregular intervals.
Needless to say that neither the government nor the Gas Distributors has confirmed or denied these allegations (Boy, do I sound like a reporter/lawyer or what???)
This man didn't give his name so no way to know if this is true or not. But I like that he ended his call by saying that he spoke "words of truth". The above is soo simple, it might just be true!
The government would rather we believe that the gas distributors are delinquent and don't order gas regularly enough. Worse still, I heard on the news today that Hurricane Hugo wants us to pay cash whenever the barrel of crude falls under $50 US on the world market.
So while the big guys are [still] playing the blame game, people keep getting nasty surprises at the gas stations. Some aren't selling anything at all. My ride home from work stopped at two, one near the office, one near my house and they were both officially closed. Others have either regular or super but not both. Rumor has it that Diesel is about to dip into the red any day now.
According to the caller on the radio show, the tanker should come next Monday or Tuesday, instead of yesterday, the 27th. Meaning we're going to have another slooow week-end.
You know what pisses me off? That this same government has found FIVE MILLION DOLLARS US to contribute to the [half-way mythical] partial legislatives we're suppose to have mid-april. The international community will put up the other TWELVE MILLION needed to organize the vote.
Can't you tell how in synch we are? A real meeting of the minds.
Not.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Vox Populi : Eat, Drink and...Be Wary?
UPDATE : POLL RESULTS. Well, nobody voted but I'm giving the answer anyway. It's $80 US.
Here's a good one for you:
How much does it cost for three friends to eat 3 thin-crust 8" pizzas, 3 glasses of fruit juice and 3 triple-scoop ice creams*?
a) $20 US*
b) $50 US
c) $80 US
Please vote in the comments (Will update the blog and have more modern polling when internet access improves)
Results will be posted on Sunday (I hope). Four whole days for you, dear readers, to figure out if x=0, LOL!
* We don't believe in dieting, either!
** The prices are in US not only for convenience but because the US price was printed on the bill.
Here's a good one for you:
How much does it cost for three friends to eat 3 thin-crust 8" pizzas, 3 glasses of fruit juice and 3 triple-scoop ice creams*?
a) $20 US*
b) $50 US
c) $80 US
Please vote in the comments (Will update the blog and have more modern polling when internet access improves)
Results will be posted on Sunday (I hope). Four whole days for you, dear readers, to figure out if x=0, LOL!
* We don't believe in dieting, either!
** The prices are in US not only for convenience but because the US price was printed on the bill.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
It's the thought that counts
This morning's paper had a dozen pages out of 32 dedicated to the Inauguration of Mr Hope. Impressive if only you consider that a 32-page edition is somewhat of a big publication for that paper.
This is just a reflection of the obssession we too have developped with #44. In fact, yesterday, I barely worked at all. My boss brought in his 13" mini tv (purchased just for the occasion, mind you) and we spent several hours captivated by the grainy transmission by a local, free tv station.
Truth be told, there was a tinge of bitterness for all of us, at my office. Here you have this man, talking about getting back to work and putting aside differences to dig a country out of financial (and social) trouble.
But we don't have that.
Instead we have a president who announced in his New Year's speech that, I quote, "2009 will be hard". That's it. No hope for tomorrow, no common goal, nothing.
I did learn the first lesson of 2009, though. Rinse Repeat is a goat. Not the hairy, horned beast, no! Rather the prophetic, divining mythical creature people are always talking about here.
See, he said things would be hard and practically the next day, we fell head first into a gas "crisis". Don't ask me what happened, I don't know. The fact is, gas stations were not selling gasoline at all for several days. No explanation, nothing, but clients were being turned away.
The government simply announced the new gas prices and transportation fares. Oh, don't bother looking for them on the ministry's website. Hasn't been updated since 2005. (Efficient, aren't they?)
Aside : The only pertinent information is that the price of diesel is the same now as it was four years ago.
Public opinion started saying that the gas distributors were trying to artificially raise the price of gasoline, in opposition to the government's decision. I heard this from everyone, from taxi drivers to coworkers.
The gas importers said that the government was taking too much tax on the gallon. I had a minor WTF moment because I just couldn't make the connection. What did high taxes have to do with closed pumps?
As one can imagine, the streets were empty. Empty, that is, except around the gas stations. I have the great misfortune of living within a few blocks of 2 gas stations, each placed near intersections. Do I need to draw you a picture? A friend of mine spent 4 hours just to buy a couple of gallons of regular.
Students were stuck in the country, having, as is customary, visited their families living outside of the capital. You could really tell that education was the number one business in this city. Whenever there is a holliday (or a gas problem), I can go from my bed to my desk under 15 minutes. Quite a feat, believe me!
But back to the goat. While we were still lost in the Land of Information BlackOut (our normal dwelling place around here), we go hit by another bomb.
Parliament was considering a bill to raise the taxes on cell phone calls from 4.70 gourdes to 8 gourdes. Not only that, but there would be additional taxes to be paid on local and international calls. And the cherry on the cake, incoming calls would revert to being paid, at the same rate.
Now, I'm still stuck on the fact that I've been paying my minutes 5 gourdes for the past, what, 3 years? Were did that 4.70 gdes come from, anyway? But to go back to paying incoming calls would just cancel the whole point of having a cell phone.
So, here's were the goat comes in. Sometime last year, Rinse Repeat commented a bit acidly that we could not legitimately complain of the cost of living when everyone on the streets here seemed to have a cell phone.
Let's stop here, shall we? Because I find it terribly disingenuous of him to make such a comment. Or is he forgetting that the government basically stoped giving people landlines 10 years ago? Even if you had the money, you got no phone line. And then, like a rabbit out of a hat, the first modern cell phone company opened and, like a Savior, offered cell phones...to those who could pay them.
Back then, yes, we paid for incoming and out-going calls. And it cost a LOT. The minimal prepaid card was 330 gourdes (about $8 US today). But did the government agency who oversees communications here care? No. Did the national phone company resume their services? Nope. Unless you were a business and could pay the proper...incentives, you got nothing.
Anyway, when the bill was made public, the outcry was such that Parliament had to scratch it. After all, the cell phone companies are the new, adjunct cash cows (with the national phone co) and the two major companies announced that they would have to lay-off a large number of employees, if not to shut down completely. That really scared somebody. Couldn't have been worry for our well-being, oh no.
So there are two morals to this story.
First, when Rinse Repeat speaks, one must learn to overcome one naturally disgust, if only to find out when to duck.
And second, the consummer is the loser, period. Put up or get out. It's lose-lose every time.
This is just a reflection of the obssession we too have developped with #44. In fact, yesterday, I barely worked at all. My boss brought in his 13" mini tv (purchased just for the occasion, mind you) and we spent several hours captivated by the grainy transmission by a local, free tv station.
Truth be told, there was a tinge of bitterness for all of us, at my office. Here you have this man, talking about getting back to work and putting aside differences to dig a country out of financial (and social) trouble.
But we don't have that.
Instead we have a president who announced in his New Year's speech that, I quote, "2009 will be hard". That's it. No hope for tomorrow, no common goal, nothing.
I did learn the first lesson of 2009, though. Rinse Repeat is a goat. Not the hairy, horned beast, no! Rather the prophetic, divining mythical creature people are always talking about here.
See, he said things would be hard and practically the next day, we fell head first into a gas "crisis". Don't ask me what happened, I don't know. The fact is, gas stations were not selling gasoline at all for several days. No explanation, nothing, but clients were being turned away.
The government simply announced the new gas prices and transportation fares. Oh, don't bother looking for them on the ministry's website. Hasn't been updated since 2005. (Efficient, aren't they?)
Aside : The only pertinent information is that the price of diesel is the same now as it was four years ago.
Public opinion started saying that the gas distributors were trying to artificially raise the price of gasoline, in opposition to the government's decision. I heard this from everyone, from taxi drivers to coworkers.
The gas importers said that the government was taking too much tax on the gallon. I had a minor WTF moment because I just couldn't make the connection. What did high taxes have to do with closed pumps?
As one can imagine, the streets were empty. Empty, that is, except around the gas stations. I have the great misfortune of living within a few blocks of 2 gas stations, each placed near intersections. Do I need to draw you a picture? A friend of mine spent 4 hours just to buy a couple of gallons of regular.
Students were stuck in the country, having, as is customary, visited their families living outside of the capital. You could really tell that education was the number one business in this city. Whenever there is a holliday (or a gas problem), I can go from my bed to my desk under 15 minutes. Quite a feat, believe me!
But back to the goat. While we were still lost in the Land of Information BlackOut (our normal dwelling place around here), we go hit by another bomb.
Parliament was considering a bill to raise the taxes on cell phone calls from 4.70 gourdes to 8 gourdes. Not only that, but there would be additional taxes to be paid on local and international calls. And the cherry on the cake, incoming calls would revert to being paid, at the same rate.
Now, I'm still stuck on the fact that I've been paying my minutes 5 gourdes for the past, what, 3 years? Were did that 4.70 gdes come from, anyway? But to go back to paying incoming calls would just cancel the whole point of having a cell phone.
So, here's were the goat comes in. Sometime last year, Rinse Repeat commented a bit acidly that we could not legitimately complain of the cost of living when everyone on the streets here seemed to have a cell phone.
Let's stop here, shall we? Because I find it terribly disingenuous of him to make such a comment. Or is he forgetting that the government basically stoped giving people landlines 10 years ago? Even if you had the money, you got no phone line. And then, like a rabbit out of a hat, the first modern cell phone company opened and, like a Savior, offered cell phones...to those who could pay them.
Back then, yes, we paid for incoming and out-going calls. And it cost a LOT. The minimal prepaid card was 330 gourdes (about $8 US today). But did the government agency who oversees communications here care? No. Did the national phone company resume their services? Nope. Unless you were a business and could pay the proper...incentives, you got nothing.
Anyway, when the bill was made public, the outcry was such that Parliament had to scratch it. After all, the cell phone companies are the new, adjunct cash cows (with the national phone co) and the two major companies announced that they would have to lay-off a large number of employees, if not to shut down completely. That really scared somebody. Couldn't have been worry for our well-being, oh no.
So there are two morals to this story.
First, when Rinse Repeat speaks, one must learn to overcome one naturally disgust, if only to find out when to duck.
And second, the consummer is the loser, period. Put up or get out. It's lose-lose every time.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Bye, bye, bye
The biggest of the local newspapers published it's annual Year End Review front page caricature. While I have a difficult relationship with said publication (least of which being that they call themselves a "daily" when they only come out 4 times a week most of the year!!! Witness the fact that this issue was delivered TODAY), I have to admit, the "last page" drawings are always very appreciated.
They've changed artists, this is a younger guy who, from what I know, does mostly comic strips and albums. Now, for those who haven't been following the news (I know, I know, I didn't do much in 08), the references are, from left to right:
- April : The so-called hunger riots;
- Summer : Four hurricanes, one after the other;
- Too-Long to Care : Picking the next Prime Too...Minister, I mean MINISTER (FYI:the woman got the job);
- Two Years Too Long : The US elections
- Rinse Repeat's New Thing : Changing the Constitution. As if there's nothing more important to do. Like UPHOLD AND APPLY THE CURRENT LAWS!!!!
- The accidental death of a famous local HipHop group (though I doubt they went UP)
- Most of the year : Why Colombia is our BFF and How the Gvt shares the Lurve (or not);
- See above : Why were they here again? Do we really care anymore?
Note: I'll post the translations of the dialogue bubbles later, too much trouble with my dial-up connection today
They've changed artists, this is a younger guy who, from what I know, does mostly comic strips and albums. Now, for those who haven't been following the news (I know, I know, I didn't do much in 08), the references are, from left to right:
- April : The so-called hunger riots;
- Summer : Four hurricanes, one after the other;
- Too-Long to Care : Picking the next Prime Too...Minister, I mean MINISTER (FYI:the woman got the job);
- Two Years Too Long : The US elections
- Rinse Repeat's New Thing : Changing the Constitution. As if there's nothing more important to do. Like UPHOLD AND APPLY THE CURRENT LAWS!!!!
- The accidental death of a famous local HipHop group (though I doubt they went UP)
- Most of the year : Why Colombia is our BFF and How the Gvt shares the Lurve (or not);
- See above : Why were they here again? Do we really care anymore?
Note: I'll post the translations of the dialogue bubbles later, too much trouble with my dial-up connection today
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Let's Get It On...
It's official. I have the internet at home again!
Watch out World, she's baaaack!!!!!
Watch out World, she's baaaack!!!!!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Back, From Outerspace
Well, not really. I apologize to all my readers who were dispairing of ever seeing me write her again. I had lost my mojo...and my internet access.
My apologies also to those who left comments and hoped for replies. I'm bad at checking comments even when I post (somewhat) regularly!
Anyway, with luck, next week, I will have dial-up at home again and so, will return to the ranting you are used to (if not, get to it!)
Meanwhile, in the Real World...
- Still no Prime Minister. Since Whatshisface got the boot, mid-April, we have been treated to yet another wonderful interpretive art piece by Rince Repeat. I like to call it "Mirages". Rinse calls them candidates. Go figure...
- The price of gas has officially risen. Super is 270 gourdes ($6.75*), Regular is 265 gourdes ($6.62*) and Diesel is 194 gourdes ($4.85*). Public transportation fare is up too. I myself took a taxi to work this morning for 30 gourdes. Will get back to you with the full list of new fares.
- Official exams are almost over. This year, both 12th and 13th grades had their tests the same week. As always, the numbers speak for themselves: 247,000 students for 6th grade, 180, 523 for 9th grade, and 92, 129 students for the combined final two grades. Nevermind that 50% of these kids live here, in the capital.
- Kidnappings have again increased their daily rates, despite showy police arrests. Why bother, if the kidnappers are released within a few days...without a trial? The one good thing is that school is out. I know several parents were counting the days. I myself feel a little twichy going in and out of my house.
So, there you have it, fodder for future posts. Thank you for being patient.
* at a 40 gdes exchange rate
My apologies also to those who left comments and hoped for replies. I'm bad at checking comments even when I post (somewhat) regularly!
Anyway, with luck, next week, I will have dial-up at home again and so, will return to the ranting you are used to (if not, get to it!)
Meanwhile, in the Real World...
- Still no Prime Minister. Since Whatshisface got the boot, mid-April, we have been treated to yet another wonderful interpretive art piece by Rince Repeat. I like to call it "Mirages". Rinse calls them candidates. Go figure...
- The price of gas has officially risen. Super is 270 gourdes ($6.75*), Regular is 265 gourdes ($6.62*) and Diesel is 194 gourdes ($4.85*). Public transportation fare is up too. I myself took a taxi to work this morning for 30 gourdes. Will get back to you with the full list of new fares.
- Official exams are almost over. This year, both 12th and 13th grades had their tests the same week. As always, the numbers speak for themselves: 247,000 students for 6th grade, 180, 523 for 9th grade, and 92, 129 students for the combined final two grades. Nevermind that 50% of these kids live here, in the capital.
- Kidnappings have again increased their daily rates, despite showy police arrests. Why bother, if the kidnappers are released within a few days...without a trial? The one good thing is that school is out. I know several parents were counting the days. I myself feel a little twichy going in and out of my house.
So, there you have it, fodder for future posts. Thank you for being patient.
* at a 40 gdes exchange rate
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
On which side to butter
The biggest bad news to hit us this week is that the price of wheat has risen. According to a spokesman for the State Mill being interviewed on the radio this morning, we import 28,000 tons of wheat a year but the prices are now around 230-237 euros per ton. That grain becomes the total source of white flour (or "Farin France", French flour as we call it) produced and sold in Haiti.
This increase is already felt here in the price of bread. A baguette of French bread as gone from 15 gourdes ($0.41 US) to 24 gourdes ($0.65 US). A messenger boy at work told me that the breakfast egg sandwich has shrunk to a pitiful size on the streets, while it's price stays the same. This is a staple for many Haitians who do no eat at home before they leave for school or work.
Sliced bread, already above the 30 gourdes mark, is sure to tople over into the 40 gourdes or, more dramatically, the 50 gourdes bracket. Unfortunately, I was not able to access the news websites (server restrictions at work) to give you a sampling of what is being said about this situation.
That same spokesman mentioned above tried to be positive and reassuring. Apparently, they haven't noticed any dramatic change in the sales of flour to the bakeries around town.
He goes further to explain this more expensive wheat on...biofuel! According to him, the growing market for ethanol has not only put corn and cane in the spotlight but has put more pressure on wheat since it seems to be replaced by those two other crops.
Notice this is not what the article linked to above says at all.
I'm not a big bread eater so I don't feel concerned yet. But this is bad news for us all, most especially the parents who are already struggling to send their kids to school. I remember eating quite a number of sandwiches over the years.
Tuition is one thing, but lunch is another. When you're lucky enough to get one, that is.
Of course, we've always eaten a lot of root vegetables like potatoes, sweet potatoes, green plaintain, yams, bread fruit. I guess we're just going to have to eat them more.
Want to hear something ironic? Last month, the Minister of Economy was speaking to the House of Representatives Commerce Committee about how certains prices were actually lower. Nobody believed her then.
Now? Let's just laugh it off.
This increase is already felt here in the price of bread. A baguette of French bread as gone from 15 gourdes ($0.41 US) to 24 gourdes ($0.65 US). A messenger boy at work told me that the breakfast egg sandwich has shrunk to a pitiful size on the streets, while it's price stays the same. This is a staple for many Haitians who do no eat at home before they leave for school or work.
Sliced bread, already above the 30 gourdes mark, is sure to tople over into the 40 gourdes or, more dramatically, the 50 gourdes bracket. Unfortunately, I was not able to access the news websites (server restrictions at work) to give you a sampling of what is being said about this situation.
That same spokesman mentioned above tried to be positive and reassuring. Apparently, they haven't noticed any dramatic change in the sales of flour to the bakeries around town.
He goes further to explain this more expensive wheat on...biofuel! According to him, the growing market for ethanol has not only put corn and cane in the spotlight but has put more pressure on wheat since it seems to be replaced by those two other crops.
Notice this is not what the article linked to above says at all.
I'm not a big bread eater so I don't feel concerned yet. But this is bad news for us all, most especially the parents who are already struggling to send their kids to school. I remember eating quite a number of sandwiches over the years.
Tuition is one thing, but lunch is another. When you're lucky enough to get one, that is.
Of course, we've always eaten a lot of root vegetables like potatoes, sweet potatoes, green plaintain, yams, bread fruit. I guess we're just going to have to eat them more.
Want to hear something ironic? Last month, the Minister of Economy was speaking to the House of Representatives Commerce Committee about how certains prices were actually lower. Nobody believed her then.
Now? Let's just laugh it off.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Like Taking a Grass Snake to School
According to the Ministry of Education, Monday was the first day of the new school year.
According to real life, it wasn't.
I'm very aware of school issues because I have the (mis)fortune of living on a street that boasts three (3) kindergartens and one (1) high school. So I always know when school is in or not.
Well, it's been very quiet both Monday and Tuesday. This morning, the kindergarten across the street from my house was open but the mustn't have received all their students yet. Though I could hear the children's voices and they played the usual songs about ducks, and boats and cuckoos in the forest, there wasn't nearly as much traffic or even pedestrian activity as on a regular school day.
My mother also works in a kindergarten and she tells me that her back-t0-school day is set for next Monday. And, if things go according to the same pattern as the last few years, she'll still be receiving kids as late as October.
Nothing I've cited above is surprising, or even new. All through my own schooling, the official starting date was almost never respected by the nuns. Parents, for their part, rutinely sent their kids abroad on vacation for the summer, without a second thought for the school schedule.
What is changing, though, is the number of people who cannot afford to pay for school. The numbers are growing and we cannot deny this truth.
Of course, there is the dichotomy between "good", usually private, schools and the state schools.
The more elite private or foreign schools are, of course, proportionally more expensive. A former coworker paid 25,000 Gdes (about $685 US) per semester for Kindergarten for her son at the French school. This was two or three years ago.
And then there are the Catholic schools. About five (5) of them are both elite (and elitist) and have a very good ranking in the national exams. I went to "the best". Well, we were (and still are) fighting for that title with our Arch-Enemy.
They are not as expensive as the other private schools but still more expensive than other, less reputable schools. People, regardless of their religion, are constantly fighting to have their daughters admitted. For that same reason, I try NOT TO MENTION I'M A FORMER STUDENT.
About 800 kids try out every spring for 1st grade at my old school. There are only 80 seats available. You can imagine the pleading, begging and even bribery that goes on. Especially since the nuns give priority to their "legacy students".
The government has little control over these schools, or the prices they charge. I don't even know if the DGI (our tax people) audits schools or not.
As for the state schools, there are too few of them, the quality of the education is terribly poor. I should know, I keep meeting the kids that come out of there. Poor reading and writing skills in French. Even in speach, it's obvious they're working with limited knowledge of the language and its construction. But that another topic for another post right there.
The one good thing the Ministry of Education did was publish the official tuition for the different levels in the state schools.
Can you believe that there are parents who cannot afford the 100 gourdes ($3 US) to send their children to grammar school for the year? Let alone spare another 100 gourdes so these kids can eat at the cafeteria.
Yet, it is true. It even made the front page of the papers last year. The press has also related the trials and tribulations of the parents struggling to send their kids to schools this year.
So it seems the prover was right. For most people getting their kids an education is like taking a grass snake to school.
And affording it is like making that snake sit in class...
According to real life, it wasn't.
I'm very aware of school issues because I have the (mis)fortune of living on a street that boasts three (3) kindergartens and one (1) high school. So I always know when school is in or not.
Well, it's been very quiet both Monday and Tuesday. This morning, the kindergarten across the street from my house was open but the mustn't have received all their students yet. Though I could hear the children's voices and they played the usual songs about ducks, and boats and cuckoos in the forest, there wasn't nearly as much traffic or even pedestrian activity as on a regular school day.
My mother also works in a kindergarten and she tells me that her back-t0-school day is set for next Monday. And, if things go according to the same pattern as the last few years, she'll still be receiving kids as late as October.
Nothing I've cited above is surprising, or even new. All through my own schooling, the official starting date was almost never respected by the nuns. Parents, for their part, rutinely sent their kids abroad on vacation for the summer, without a second thought for the school schedule.
What is changing, though, is the number of people who cannot afford to pay for school. The numbers are growing and we cannot deny this truth.
Of course, there is the dichotomy between "good", usually private, schools and the state schools.
The more elite private or foreign schools are, of course, proportionally more expensive. A former coworker paid 25,000 Gdes (about $685 US) per semester for Kindergarten for her son at the French school. This was two or three years ago.
And then there are the Catholic schools. About five (5) of them are both elite (and elitist) and have a very good ranking in the national exams. I went to "the best". Well, we were (and still are) fighting for that title with our Arch-Enemy.
They are not as expensive as the other private schools but still more expensive than other, less reputable schools. People, regardless of their religion, are constantly fighting to have their daughters admitted. For that same reason, I try NOT TO MENTION I'M A FORMER STUDENT.
About 800 kids try out every spring for 1st grade at my old school. There are only 80 seats available. You can imagine the pleading, begging and even bribery that goes on. Especially since the nuns give priority to their "legacy students".
The government has little control over these schools, or the prices they charge. I don't even know if the DGI (our tax people) audits schools or not.
As for the state schools, there are too few of them, the quality of the education is terribly poor. I should know, I keep meeting the kids that come out of there. Poor reading and writing skills in French. Even in speach, it's obvious they're working with limited knowledge of the language and its construction. But that another topic for another post right there.
The one good thing the Ministry of Education did was publish the official tuition for the different levels in the state schools.
Can you believe that there are parents who cannot afford the 100 gourdes ($3 US) to send their children to grammar school for the year? Let alone spare another 100 gourdes so these kids can eat at the cafeteria.
Yet, it is true. It even made the front page of the papers last year. The press has also related the trials and tribulations of the parents struggling to send their kids to schools this year.
So it seems the prover was right. For most people getting their kids an education is like taking a grass snake to school.
And affording it is like making that snake sit in class...
Friday, August 03, 2007
Shaken, Not Stirred
It seems that things are heating up in the country as we move into the second half of the vacation months.
On the one hand, the weather has decided to roast us alive. Last night, around 7h pm, it was a murderous 35 Celcius (95 F). I was feeling weak and disoriented, especially since I'd been in those high temperatures since coming home from my AC-cooled office.
Of course, it's hurricane season. Last one was Chantal, but we've moved on to another one in-the-making. Though it should mostly affect the South of the island, it's giving me the worse heatwaves!
I'm also worried about heartquakes. We've had consistently high temperatures so the danger, IMO, is there.
But people are also trying to roast my mind. Here's an overview of the last few weeks:
- My phone is still dead. It's been almost 6 months. I actually got a bill for 992.34 gourdes (about $28). I wrote to them to say I didn't appreciate the joke. I have little hope of the situation changing anytime soon since the head of the state phone company has been trouble from disgruntled employees.
He's been interviewed over and over again over the massive firings going on. Can you blame the guy? When he came into the job, the co had 5,000 employees. Among them, eight (8) doctors, including a gynecologist and an urologist!!! He says he only needs between 750, but is willing to go up to 1,200 employees.
I think he's serious. There's even an ad in the papers looking for a company to restructure the IT department. The proble, as always, is the other people. The director publicly admited that the reason only 25% of the 150,000 land lines in the metropolitan area are working is good old sabotage. I'm pretty sure it's true since a LOT of people suddenly lost their phone service at roughly the same time.
He also promised cable internet for next summer. Oh, I want, I want! But will he (and I) get it? Let's wait and see.
- Major corruption/criminality crack down. Two high-profile business men are being questioned by the police over allegedly selling a man a car that had skipped the whole customs thingie. They seem to have even forged the official papers and signatures. The poor buyer got the surprise of his life when officials refused to give him his car.
Notice my very diplomatice/professional tone. That's because I'm jaded, baby. I don't believe the officials are clean, I don't believe the car dealers are clean, I don't believe this is going far. Unless somebody big has it in for the dealers, this all will die down soon.
Oh, the government is running anti-corruption ads but it's a pot and kettle situation, as far as I'm concerned.
On the other hand, the US DEA has been fishing for drug dealers left and right. Lawyer-types and the common man are incensed at this intrusion. I'm pretty sure some sort of deal has been signed.
Maybe I'm imagining things but isn't surprising that the IADB just gave us $12.5 million US, lump sum even, for "restructuring the government"? And promising us more next year?
- Mr Big Stuff UN is in town this week. You can tell by the volume of UN in the streets, especially when they are blocking streets without any explanation. Mr BS has been up down, crosswise this city. He met with Rinse Repeat first and that was fun: each was talking his own spin and I was LOL myself breathless.
Oh, people are in a tizzy. Mr BS said the city is dirty, people got upset. He said the UN isn't living any time soon (if ever), people got mad. Big Stuff says that they'll not be living until things got better "in the long term".
Rinse Repeat especially doesn't seem to agree with the UN issue. Nationalists agree with him, it seems but what's anybody doing about it? When they first came here, people said it would be for 10 yrs. After that press conf, maybe we should double that estimate...
We're also getting a new head of the MINUSTAH next month, a Tunisian diplomat. He's the first North African in the job. So now we are switching the hot chili peppers for harissa.
- The house of representatives has flushed the Culture Minister. They say he did some funny stuff with the Carnaval money. Rumor has it that Rinse Repeat himself told the Culture Min that he SHOULDN'T give money to the different elected officials usually envolved with Carnaval money ie the mayors, representatives and others.
Today, in fact the President is meating with the House. Is he giving them what-for? or just cold hard cash? Rumors are flying. Some say Rinse Repeat will NOT get rid of his BFF Minister. Others think this is the beginning of the end for either Rinse or the House.
See what I mean when I say my brain is set on broil? And we haven't even got to the State Examen Results yet. School is in a little over a month away. Gas prices are high, there's very little electricity, everybody is broke (ok, that's not new).
I need a liquid nitrogen bath, quick!
On the one hand, the weather has decided to roast us alive. Last night, around 7h pm, it was a murderous 35 Celcius (95 F). I was feeling weak and disoriented, especially since I'd been in those high temperatures since coming home from my AC-cooled office.
Of course, it's hurricane season. Last one was Chantal, but we've moved on to another one in-the-making. Though it should mostly affect the South of the island, it's giving me the worse heatwaves!
I'm also worried about heartquakes. We've had consistently high temperatures so the danger, IMO, is there.
But people are also trying to roast my mind. Here's an overview of the last few weeks:
- My phone is still dead. It's been almost 6 months. I actually got a bill for 992.34 gourdes (about $28). I wrote to them to say I didn't appreciate the joke. I have little hope of the situation changing anytime soon since the head of the state phone company has been trouble from disgruntled employees.
He's been interviewed over and over again over the massive firings going on. Can you blame the guy? When he came into the job, the co had 5,000 employees. Among them, eight (8) doctors, including a gynecologist and an urologist!!! He says he only needs between 750, but is willing to go up to 1,200 employees.
I think he's serious. There's even an ad in the papers looking for a company to restructure the IT department. The proble, as always, is the other people. The director publicly admited that the reason only 25% of the 150,000 land lines in the metropolitan area are working is good old sabotage. I'm pretty sure it's true since a LOT of people suddenly lost their phone service at roughly the same time.
He also promised cable internet for next summer. Oh, I want, I want! But will he (and I) get it? Let's wait and see.
- Major corruption/criminality crack down. Two high-profile business men are being questioned by the police over allegedly selling a man a car that had skipped the whole customs thingie. They seem to have even forged the official papers and signatures. The poor buyer got the surprise of his life when officials refused to give him his car.
Notice my very diplomatice/professional tone. That's because I'm jaded, baby. I don't believe the officials are clean, I don't believe the car dealers are clean, I don't believe this is going far. Unless somebody big has it in for the dealers, this all will die down soon.
Oh, the government is running anti-corruption ads but it's a pot and kettle situation, as far as I'm concerned.
On the other hand, the US DEA has been fishing for drug dealers left and right. Lawyer-types and the common man are incensed at this intrusion. I'm pretty sure some sort of deal has been signed.
Maybe I'm imagining things but isn't surprising that the IADB just gave us $12.5 million US, lump sum even, for "restructuring the government"? And promising us more next year?
- Mr Big Stuff UN is in town this week. You can tell by the volume of UN in the streets, especially when they are blocking streets without any explanation. Mr BS has been up down, crosswise this city. He met with Rinse Repeat first and that was fun: each was talking his own spin and I was LOL myself breathless.
Oh, people are in a tizzy. Mr BS said the city is dirty, people got upset. He said the UN isn't living any time soon (if ever), people got mad. Big Stuff says that they'll not be living until things got better "in the long term".
Rinse Repeat especially doesn't seem to agree with the UN issue. Nationalists agree with him, it seems but what's anybody doing about it? When they first came here, people said it would be for 10 yrs. After that press conf, maybe we should double that estimate...
We're also getting a new head of the MINUSTAH next month, a Tunisian diplomat. He's the first North African in the job. So now we are switching the hot chili peppers for harissa.
- The house of representatives has flushed the Culture Minister. They say he did some funny stuff with the Carnaval money. Rumor has it that Rinse Repeat himself told the Culture Min that he SHOULDN'T give money to the different elected officials usually envolved with Carnaval money ie the mayors, representatives and others.
Today, in fact the President is meating with the House. Is he giving them what-for? or just cold hard cash? Rumors are flying. Some say Rinse Repeat will NOT get rid of his BFF Minister. Others think this is the beginning of the end for either Rinse or the House.
See what I mean when I say my brain is set on broil? And we haven't even got to the State Examen Results yet. School is in a little over a month away. Gas prices are high, there's very little electricity, everybody is broke (ok, that's not new).
I need a liquid nitrogen bath, quick!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
So Fresh and So Clean
I'm posting this specifically for my Third World Readers, both here on the island and across the American Continent.
"FDA Advises Consumers to Avoid Toothpaste From China Containing Harmful Chemical
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) today warned consumers to avoid using tubes of toothpaste labeled as made in China, and issued an import alert to prevent toothpaste containing the poisonous chemical diethylene glycol (DEG) from entering the United States.
DEG is used in antifreeze and as a solvent.
Consumers should examine toothpaste products for labeling that says the product is made in China. Out of an abundance of caution, FDA suggests that consumers throw away toothpaste with that labeling. FDA is concerned that these products may contain "diethylene glycol," also known as "diglycol."
FDA is not aware of any U.S. reports of poisonings from toothpaste containing DEG. However, the agency is concerned about potential risks from chronic exposure to DEG and exposure to DEG in certain populations, such as children and individuals with kidney or liver disease. DEG in toothpaste has a low but meaningful risk of toxicity and injury to these populations. Toothpaste is not intended to be swallowed, but FDA is concerned about unintentional swallowing or ingestion of toothpaste containing DEG.
FDA has identified the following brands of toothpaste from China that contain DEG and are included in the import alert: Cooldent Fluoride; Cooldent Spearmint; Cooldent ICE; Dr. Cool, Everfresh Toothpaste; Superdent Toothpaste; Clean Rite Toothpaste; Oralmax Extreme; Oral Bright Fresh Spearmint Flavor; Bright Max Peppermint Flavor; ShiR Fresh Mint Fluoride Paste; DentaPro; DentaKleen; and DentaKleen Junior. Manufacturers of these products are: Goldcredit International Enterprises Limited; Goldcredit International Trading Company Limited; and Suzhou City Jinmao Daily Chemicals Company Limited. The products typically are sold at low-cost, “bargain” retail outlets.
Based on reports of contaminated toothpaste from China found in several countries, including Panama, FDA increased its scrutiny and began sampling toothpaste and other dental products manufactured in China that were imported into the United States."
This reminds me of the whole syrup tragedy of ten years ago when almost a hundred children died. Yes, it was a Chinese product then also (Nevermind that China is one of our Best Friends 4 Ever).
So you've been warned. Pass the word. Don't let that minty fresh feeling be your last sensation on this earth!
"FDA Advises Consumers to Avoid Toothpaste From China Containing Harmful Chemical
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) today warned consumers to avoid using tubes of toothpaste labeled as made in China, and issued an import alert to prevent toothpaste containing the poisonous chemical diethylene glycol (DEG) from entering the United States.
DEG is used in antifreeze and as a solvent.
Consumers should examine toothpaste products for labeling that says the product is made in China. Out of an abundance of caution, FDA suggests that consumers throw away toothpaste with that labeling. FDA is concerned that these products may contain "diethylene glycol," also known as "diglycol."
FDA is not aware of any U.S. reports of poisonings from toothpaste containing DEG. However, the agency is concerned about potential risks from chronic exposure to DEG and exposure to DEG in certain populations, such as children and individuals with kidney or liver disease. DEG in toothpaste has a low but meaningful risk of toxicity and injury to these populations. Toothpaste is not intended to be swallowed, but FDA is concerned about unintentional swallowing or ingestion of toothpaste containing DEG.
FDA has identified the following brands of toothpaste from China that contain DEG and are included in the import alert: Cooldent Fluoride; Cooldent Spearmint; Cooldent ICE; Dr. Cool, Everfresh Toothpaste; Superdent Toothpaste; Clean Rite Toothpaste; Oralmax Extreme; Oral Bright Fresh Spearmint Flavor; Bright Max Peppermint Flavor; ShiR Fresh Mint Fluoride Paste; DentaPro; DentaKleen; and DentaKleen Junior. Manufacturers of these products are: Goldcredit International Enterprises Limited; Goldcredit International Trading Company Limited; and Suzhou City Jinmao Daily Chemicals Company Limited. The products typically are sold at low-cost, “bargain” retail outlets.
Based on reports of contaminated toothpaste from China found in several countries, including Panama, FDA increased its scrutiny and began sampling toothpaste and other dental products manufactured in China that were imported into the United States."
This reminds me of the whole syrup tragedy of ten years ago when almost a hundred children died. Yes, it was a Chinese product then also (Nevermind that China is one of our Best Friends 4 Ever).
So you've been warned. Pass the word. Don't let that minty fresh feeling be your last sensation on this earth!
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