Fish are friends. And food.

September 18-24

These buildings previously charged money for clean water, but the Haitians figured out how to rig the system. Now it's free.

            My second week began with a trip to one of Christianville’s satellite schools to deliver a nutritious meal of goat chili.  I sought to understand more of the food production chain.  Most of the diet in Haiti is grain-based, so it is crucial to get protein to the children.  Even after doling out 200 servings not all of the children were fed.  The arrival of the “blan” (foreign) missionaries halted classes while we played with the kids.  I broke the ice by handing out gum and was soon making fun of them as much as they were me.  The drive there and back was rocky on unpaved roads; bouncing around in the van, the missionaries and I waved at passing villagers.

The schoolchildren line up for a bowl of rice and goat chili.

"Blan! Blan!"

My attempt at saying 'Smile!'

          My own diet has seen a dramatic shift since arriving here.  While I am certainly being fed enough, the meals have a high concentration of carbohydrates, sugar, and oil.  Protein is a scarce commodity in Haiti.  My body has weathered a bit of an adjustment period… I may just now be getting over a spiteful canker.   

            This is part of the reason I am working at the fish farm.  We are trying to provide the orphanage and schools of Christianville with sufficient protein and nutrients.  Our current stock of 22,000 fish is not really enough to feed close to 1,000 kids once per week.  Fish is not the only animal protein they eat, though.  They also get eggs, chicken, and the aforementioned occasional goat.  Even a meal of each once a week is meager.  There are surprisingly few legumes to pair with rice for vegetable proteins. 

*Beep beep*

           The week before I left for Haiti, I ran into a friend who is an animal rights activist.  She found my affiliation with fish farming distasteful.  But the fact is there's not sufficient agriculture in Haiti to support a (human) vegetarian diet.  Milk would be a great dietary supplement, but I have yet to consume anything besides the powdered variety.  Animals can consume nutrients in forms we cannot, making them prime mediators in the food chain, especially in developing areas where people need all they help they can get.  The tilapia at the fish farm will eat rotten animals and plants, detritus, algae, and microorganisms.  Plus, they have omega-3 fatty acids without the detriment of increasing cholesterol.  The precious nutritional value and resource efficiency of aquaculture are essential here.  I inspected the agricultural fields at Christianville, orchestrated by two Nicaraguan non-profit workers – watermelon, mango, papaya – all crops that contain much sugar.  It seems that the crops that provide nutrients are not very profitable, and the crops that provide profit are not very nutritious.

            Not that I aim to become a flamboyant commercial aquaculture activist, myself.  There does seem to be something more humane about taking a couple home-reared fish out of the backyard pond to put on the grill for dinner, as opposed to scooping out buckets of bleeding tilapia.  Still, I will be doing all I can to increase production.

Oscar walks me through the mango mangrove.  There are too many weeds.

A papaya tree.  An Oscar man.

            Gasping gills are a minor qualm compared to my concern regarding the financial sustainability of this operation.  The majority of the harvest goes to feed the schools and orphanage, while the biggest fish are sold at market.  Even though over 500 pounds of tilapia were sold this month, it is not enough to pay for all the fish food.  I can only guess that this religiously affiliated organization is powered largely by donations.  So far the books have been closed to me, but I will soon need to pry open the ledger for affiliated projects. 

            And Christ is never far away in Christianville.  I attended another service on Sunday, held at a church on a small, scenic mountaintop where an American ministry is to build a compound (mentioned in my last post).  The bishop there, Odel, is a half-blind janitor at Christianville... actually, I can't tell if his name is Odel or Odin, like the one-eyed figure he resembles.  I saw him again later in the week at an art market where he tried to sell me goods at twice the price of the neighboring vendors.  I did not purchase anything there, but later in the day I received a Bible from Danette as she departed to the United States for a few weeks.  Prodding from the staff seems to have indicated I do not consider myself a Christian.  Most of the Christians here have revealed an ignorance concerning any other belief (including a discussion about Catholics not being Christians) that causes me trepidation in discussing spirituality.

            Definitively speaking, I have yet to do much.  A short report to my supervisors has helped me to crystallize my objectives.  I aim to begin transitioning away from solely observing to initiating projects.  Productivity works at a different pace in Haiti, so I shall have to put my nose to the slow grindstone.  If I sound wry, don’t take it too seriously.  The people are friendly, the culture is interesting, and the scenery has moments of unique beauty.  I am where I want to be right now.