Haiti 2013: Culture Shock at its Best

As I arrive to Haiti, it finds its lodging in my heart. The soul of the country charms me like an exotic belle with her pulsating rhythms of higglers' chatter, the blaring colours of the tap taps and the remnants of mourning buildings silently wailing their dirges.

Upon being whisked away from the airport, I encounter the reality of Haiti. A sea of faces etched with hope greet us. We are foreigners. We have something to give. They have needs. The homeless-looking guy, the madame selling bun-less hot dogs with ketchup and the brassière-less granny toting a bucket of charcoal all become personified reminders to me of this.

On the way to our 'compound', I feel privileged and it does not make me feel good.

1. I am a foreigner, my mode of transport is different from theirs. We zoom past overcrowded buses and I can't help but feel conscious of my empty seats beside me and well fastened burglar proofing. We are some big shots; thought the mind of that dread-locked guy pinched together with his compères like mackerel in a can.

2. My outfit was sort of well put together. I was contrasted with clothing ensembles of varying mismatches commonly held together by the dingy, daily dust.

Lastly, for the first time in my life, my wearing of locs disallowed me from publicly ministering to others. I was told from the higher ups that conservative, Christian Haitians would confuse my hairstyle with Rastafarians who seemingly had a bad rep on these shores. I humbly retreated in the background- shocked, disappointed and speechless.

However, the new creation that had been born from the last 9 months of my internship rejected the rejection I felt. Christ deserved to be glorified whether from centre stage or even backstage.

B

Scholar Ship

In my family, whilst growing up, thanksgiving wasn't relegated simply to one day on the calendar. Oftentimes, the act of giving thanks proceeded any major occassion that warranted such. Today with my pen, I etch the gratitude to God on paper for having granted me the realization of this teenage goal of winning a scholarship.

You may or may not know that this experience in Deutschland was made possible by the benevolence of the Baden Wurttemburg Stipendum. Baden Wurttemburg (BW) is a southern bundersland (or state) in the German Federal Republic.

This week, I and a host of some hundred other scholarship holders were hosted aboard the Zepplin ship to fete our induction into the foundation of BW scholars. Accompanied by my less-than-a-day-old-new-pal, Thomas, I felt really honoured to be present at the evening's proceedings. Several things I found rather interesting; firstly the entire guest list having been brought together by a single commonality despite being from various countries dotted across the globe, secondly sailing on the Bondansee or Lake Konstanz whose shores straddle the borders of three countries, Germany, Switzerland and Austria and thirdly being part og a larger body of scholars, past and present from all over the world.

While hobknobbing with the director of the foundation, in my best Deutsch, I expressed my sincerest sentiments of gratitude. He replied that by hosting students like myself a reciprocity is created because though thry give us the financial means to study here, our presence aided in fostering what he termed 'much needed cultural exchange'.

After having sipfuls of refreshing Baden white wine, networking with the gamut of other scholars and seizing several photographable moments, I desembarked the sea craft with several life imprints . They are huddled below.

1. HAve i made the best of this experience? How have these experiences and new knowledge been inculcated within my profession?

2. My newly made friend Thomas happened to have been the recipient of both the BW stupendium and a Fulbright one as well. He, like many other faces along my organic life path, planted inside of me the motivation to go for gold with the Fulbright. What's stopping me from achieving such stellar academic excellence? Watch out world

3. The motto of the foundation reads 'Sponsoring futures'. How can I in whatever miniscule manner do this for who, like me are in need of a lil pick me upper?

Hard to swallow...

I've always been a history buff! In my formative years, I've consumed hundreds of hours of Trinbagonian, Caribbean, American, African, European and Indian histories! At a certain time in my life, history was one of the subjects where even the most mundane of topics sparked considerable interest, no wonder I was awarded for that subject, the top student in my graduating year. Even my mother at one point was convinced that her baby would one day become a historian.

I enjoy history because it allows me to hop unto a boat and sail my way back into that which was. But what if cruising into the realms gone by becomes arduous to come to terms with! What if in coming back to the present, ghouls of factual events take up residence in our sub conscious and identity?

Today, I explore Germany's infamous past, which till this day, haunts those that even dare to confront it.

I stumbled upon a friend's wall posting on Facebook. The title reads "German grandchildren of Nazis delve into past". Piqued, I took a peek into the contents.


What follows though are segments of buzz words that captured my attention.


The gardener at his boarding school, an Auschwitz survivor, beat him black and blue after hearing he was the grandson of Rudolf Hoess, commandant of the death camp synonymous with the Holocaust.

"He beat me, because he projected on me all the horror he went through," Rainer Hoess said, with a shrug and a helpless smile. "Once a Hoess, always a Hoess. Whether you're the grandfather or the grandson — guilty is guilty."

Upon reading this several facets of my human-ness emerged. I asked myself if the gardener is justified? Was the murderer of his loved ones ever brought to justice? Or should the posterity of a Nazi be made the scapegoat for the sins of forefathers? What's in a name? Is guilty, guilty in this case?


Today, Hoess says, he no longer feels guilty, but the burden of the past weighs on him at all times.

"My grandfather was a mass murderer — something that I can only be ashamed and sad about," said the 45-year-old chef and father of two boys and two girls. "However, I do not want to close my eyes and pretend nothing ever happened, like the rest of my family still does ... I want to stop the curse that's been haunting my family ever since, for the sake of myself and that of my own children."

Hoess is no longer in contact with his father, brother, aunts and cousins, who all call him a traitor. Strangers often look at him with distrust when he tells them about his grandfather — "as if I could have inherited his evil."


Should this man be made to feel guilty for what those before him atrociously committed? I applaud his bravery though in confronting this beast of the past. What's surprising to me though is the response of the members of those he label as family. Why would they label him as a traitor? The irony though is why should they feel that he is selling them out? My irony though is do I believe that they support the memory of their murderous fore-family member? This disturbs me.


"The Nazis — the first generation — were too ashamed to talk about the crimes they committed and covered everything up. The second generation often had trouble personally confronting their Nazi parents. So now it is up to the grandchildren to lift the curses off their families," said Bode.

It was only during her university years — reading books about the Holocaust — that Ursula Boger found out her grandfather was the most dreaded torturer at Auschwitz.

"I felt numb for days after I read about what he did," recalled Boger, a shy, soft-spoken woman who lives near Freiburg in southwestern Germany. "For many years I was ashamed to tell anybody about him, but then I realized that my own silence was eating me up from inside."

Her grandfather, Wilhelm Boger, invented the so-called Boger swing at Auschwitz — an iron bar that hung on chains from the ceiling. Boger would force naked inmates to bend over the bar and beat their genitals until they fainted or died.

Boger, 41, said it took her several years of therapy and group seminars to begin to come to terms with the fact her grandfather was a monster.

"I felt guilty, even though I hadn't committed a crime myself, felt like I had to do only good things at all times to make up for his evil," she said.

What hardship it must have been for the direct descendants of Nazis! A Canadian friend of mine of German descent one related to me a story that during her high school years she had been once verbally bullied by a class mate labeling her as a Nazi. What that child was oblivious to though was that her grandparents fled Nazi Germany with two suitcases of clothes and personal belongings and 11cents to commence regenesis on Canadian soil. Furthermore, my stomach actually turned, like a curdling milk on the verge of going horribly sour and unpleasant when my eyes skimmed over the mention of Freiburg- the small town that I've come to know as home here.

It touched home.

Unbelieving, I reminded myself nowhere or no one is immune from tragedy.

Also addressing the feelings of guilt, I wanted to whisper in her ears personally to throw a glimpse at Romans 5 found in the Bible. She would be changed forever.



Hoess acknowledges that his grandfather will probably never stop haunting him. After his visit to Auschwitz, he met Jozef Paczynski, a Polish camp survivor and the former barber of Commandant Hoess.

"Somehow, subconsciously, I was hoping that maybe he would tell me one positive story about my grandfather, something that shows that he wasn't all evil after all, that there was some goodness in him," Hoess confided.

Paczynski asked Hoess to get up and walk across the room — then told him: "You look exactly like your grandfather."


This last excerpt really pricked my heart. Its Oedipic pursuit of truth is what it reminded me of, only in the end though to get exactly opposite of that which you intentionally went after.



Combing through the 1654 pages of comments from the online article was a quite a feat. Some views are represented here. I leave you to sift the wheat from the husk.


A Mr teal said :dude! i'm as anti-Nazi as the next guy, but people oughta realize that beating up the grandchild of a psycho isn't the answer.

i liken the situation to what is going on right now in the media. Bin Laden was a monster, so, therefore, all Muslems must be too. not even related to him, even.

why can't we talk about stuff?

Nazi-ism is still alive, but called Patriotism, in disguise.

FREE SPEECH, folks! it REALLY DOES work!! and as American as baseball and apple pie.

and while we're at it, stop wearing clothes that look like it's made out of American flags. just as disrespectful as burning em, hoss.


But John had this to say: That's really something to read about. The children should not be held accountable for the crimes of their parents. Makes me wonder what the world would be like today if the nazis had won the war and eventually taken over the world. Look at Africa. Seems like something very similar is happening there but the world remains silent about it.



However, I could not resist the wise words of Mrs. Bond Street:This article strikes a chord in me on so many levels. So, many, many levels. Yesterday, I read an article about 3 Black youths in San Diego who killed a White youth while robbing him. The overwhelming majority of comments said things like, "Kill the Blacks" or "See What Those People Do To Our Society?" Because three, stupid boys did something atrocious White Americans want to lynch the whole race of Black people in America who had nothing to do with that crime. So, today I read this story about the grandchildren of Nazis and their abuse by Holocaust Survivors and I see so many similarities in yesterday's story. Here you have a society of people brandishing a small, group of grandchildren because of what their hateful, atrocious, grandparents did when they have nothing -- absolutely nothing -- to do with it. When will we stop finding excuses to hate on people? Hate becomes this perpetual cycle that people feel justifies an injustice, whether it is past or present. These grandchildren had no more to do with what their Nazi grandparents did as the majority of Blacks in this country had nothing to do with the evil acts of three Black teens. Whether it is Germany or America, the hate will never stop as long as people use it as an excuse to abuse, discriminate and dehumanize those who are innocent.

Last, I am happy to see this younger generation of Germans taking a stand, despite opposition. They are letting the world know that they are not like those who followed them. And, hopefully, with their voices, they will drown out the hatred of the past and move towards the future with hope.


B

I´m loving it!

Thus far I haven´t gotten a chance to scribe something on the educational system/culture in Deutschland. I feel that wherever I travel I become a part of that culture embodying the tenets of success that that system produces. And now that I´ve done my undergraduate studies in 3 different countries, Trinidad, Canada and Germany, I feel that a life long ambition of mine is being accomplished.

So the things that I love:

Classes at the PH (abbreviated name for my uni in German, pronounced Pay-Ha)are most times no longer than 2 hours! And in fact an hour and a half because classes usually start 15 pas the hour and end 15 to the hour (to ensure learners get to class on time because in some cases another class may be a 12 min bike ride in town). I´ve been really appreciating this becasue the sessions are broken up into very manageable chunks- this I suppose favours meaningful learning instead of the having-to-cover-all-the-work-tendancy that my school tends to have.

In the german system, students attend classes to be able to cover modules. So over 4 years they are supposed to cover the eight modules. In each course, students have the option of receiving a testat, or schine. The testat is simply a certificate of attendance whereas to obtain the schine, one has to complete a presentation, or essay, or reflection or some type of evaluation. Some courses, like the ones I´m currently pursuing can be completed to obtain a Hauptseminar schine which essentially require an extensive 10-15 page research paper in order to be given the certificate. What´s interesting is that without having exams for courses, I feel that I can focus more on enjoying the cpontent and focus more on life long learning that regurgating facts in order to be awarded a grade. And so far, I´m loving it because I feel less anxious and focus more on what matters in a lecture-the work and not the exam.

The Classes at the PH are superbly engineered! Each class has HUGE windows that channel amaying natural light. Even the light panels have reflectors so that the light can be refracted to maximise light in the class. Therefore some class do not even need artificial lights. I love it!




Oh and the views are immaculate! Freibug is surrounded by the Schwarswald or Black Forest which is an immensely dense wooded mountain range that is almost omnipresent from any point within the town! Kinda reminds me of Trinidad where the mountains seemingly were guardians protecting me from the nefarious North Coast.



German students though sit generally two exams in all of their university life. After completing say Module 4, they sit a general exam where they are required to synthesize what they have been learning for the last 2 years! And at the end of their 4 or 5 years (or 8th and 10th semester) having consumed theory and learnt how to apply it, write a 10 page critical reflection of a very broad topic. It could be anything form promoting literacy amongst low achieving students to comparing two theories of intercultual communicative competences. This explained by my friend´s roomate over sushi, could be stressful because you are required to to be competent in identifying critical theories and know how to apply them to real world scenarios. I find this AMAZING because it has always been something that completely intrested me. I mean I´ve enjoyed rereading my research papers because they´ve been my little genius on paper but I mean being given the opportunity to bring together a little of everything that i´ve studied for the last 4 years into one single paper would be ASTOUNDING!!!

At the end of classes, students knock knucles on the tables to signal the end of a lecture session. INTEERESTING!!! LOL

Maybe not representative of all Germany but in most of my classes I find that I´m being exposed to hot off the press research! Like papers where you see (Schocker 2011) bhind it! In all of my career at York, I have never had this up to date research. Reasons being perhaps that there isn´t such an emphasis on research within undergraduate classes, some professors are office occupiers or I just don´t know what! In one class, I was astonished to see how well my German peers were able to spit out theories that they had previously learned. If i were to do that at York or even UWI I wonder how many stuednts would be even capable of doing such! Is our system not meeting this objective? What are we doing wrong? Is our system to exam oriented?

I love that I´m being exposed to very different theory like German ones! Too often, professors on my side of the world are only competent in the Queen´s language and the results are that it locks us out of the rest of the world.


AND the things that drive me nuts!

Lack of wireless coverage on the entire campus!

Profs here don´t distribute printed course outlines on the first day of class. At York, it´s mandatory! Each outline gives you an idea of what will be taught in each class, the assignments to complete, their weightings, expectations etc. Call me spoilt but hey it really does organize me as a learner.

Having lived on campus for the last 4 years at York,I know the extent at how long some restaurants open! At the Mensa (or cafetaria) it opens at 11 but closes at 3! And on that note, I CANNOT STAND STUDENT SERVICE HERE!!!!! Everything is opened for like 2 hours in a day! So if I had to get a document from a faculty secretary, she would only be availbale for 2 hours in the day!! GRRRRR!


All in all though the positives outweigh the bad ones so I´m happy! In a lot of ways I´m loving the fact that my education is not commercialised! That I´m not a client only there to fill spot! And though it´s ironic that my title echoes the McDonaldsization of the world, I´m still loving it!

And I´m hungry for more!



B

Branded?

One aspect of my stay here in Deutschland is to objectively observe the people and how they interact with each other. What I'm about to share with the world is not anything read from books but solely based on what my eyes and ears have captured since my arrival of less than 3 weeks ago.

As a modern educator, or having the hopes of becoming one, one important aspect of my professional being is to be able to instruct ANYONE despite their abilities, incapabilities, hue, socio-economic background et al. However, I have to confront my personal biases and expunge them if I am to embolden others to do the same.

So for instance, should I have a scornful attitude toward Guyanese when I go to the market to purchase produce,blaming them for inflated prices? Or should I take the Mickey out on all Nigerians, mocking them or their 'funny' accent? Should I still promulgate the stereotype that blonde topped girls will always be dumb? Is every single Jamaican violent?

So, having prefaced my proceeding rant, I may as well just speak my mind.

I've observed a tendency by Germans, irrespective of age, gender or social standing to 'turn up dey nose' or throw 'cut eyes' to people whom I've come to realize are of Turkish lineage. Scornful eyes pierce their darkened features relegating them to the peripheries of Germany's social space. It's an arduous task to translate the feelings of discomfort I felt as my heart sunk to deep, dark ebbs.

Funny enough, these kids who entered the strassebabahn (tram) and into my memory seemingly were en route to cash in what potentially could have been their only bite between sun-up and sun-down. You see they were laden with empty plastic bottles (and my guess being)to redeem them at a local grocery store in exchange fro 10cents a piece. With that meagre earning, it might permit them to walk away from the grocer's with some pasta or rice, a cucumber and some pesto maybe, not sufficient enough though for a quality cut of chicken or beef.

Loud and vivacious, they were creating a bustle of klacks and klicks and bellyful bouts of laughter, much to the displeasure of the predominantly prim and proper ridership.

**********************************************************************************************

So while purposefully escaping reality while on the tram by transfering my thoughts on paper, a pleasant looking older couple enters. With them, a kid is accompanying- too young, I assume to be their's, maybe though, the playful Easter gift dropped off for the weekend by the elderly pair's posterity.

Between the kid and I, our eyes collide.

And within no more than three heartbeats, he flicks his hand pointedly toward me. Immediately the feamale kin puts her aged hands over his and regulates the situation. Ensuing the gesture of mere ignorance,I assume, (due to my lack of German)she gives him an impromptu lesson on diversity, equity, privilege and manners.

Oddly enough, today I don a t-shirt with the inscription:

"I am not a target for hate"

...and so are not the bottled children or the one loved by the two elderly persons or the person/persons whose eyes will read this.

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Homecoming

The proceeding poem is the format I chose to share this intense emotion of excitement with you on receiving the opportunity to go to France!

Homecoming

(Funny enough while writing this, a song that I love was playing on the radio. I suggest you play it while the poem is being recited.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZXjuka1VYI&feature=related


As feet descended upon earth,
Frenzied thoughts gushed internally,
Homecoming?

I was adopted not by my mother tongue
But by another one almost nearly 150 months ago.
She taught me how to express myself differently
With dignity and pure ecstasy, linguistically.

She opened up to me a world scarcely unearth by my fellow islanders
Never had I been to her home,
Dreams though slipped into reality, finally!

From tomes of consumed pages
Came an understanding of how they dress,
How they articulate, how they are recognized,
How they’ve colonized, ostracize, alphabetize

Others on site may or may not notice,
But I am like them? Right?
No second guessing!
You are.

No passport though, does that dictate my me?
I could probably expatiate theoretically the lingua franca
Or even better the literature, the food, I’ve an idea.
Lost, if I were, my words could compass me to desired destinations.

Tingly inside, I eaves drop tête-a-têtes ,
Listening and laughing
Learned I did, so hence.

I live in the light presently,
German worlds darken my light,
Because I don’t have their light,
here shines brightly My light
I have sight, from my tongue and lips and vocal chords et al

The people love me,
I do as well, since I met mom so long ago.
My navel string reconnects to the earth,
I’m home,

Finally.

In the FULLNESS of time

Of late, I've been in my scribing zen! CAUTION: watch out world, extreme creativity is imminent!

So a common thread that has been holding together several WOW moments of my stay here has been this whole concept of time! On days like this, I would evoke a whirlwind of thought to blow into perspective everything that has happened thus far.

17 minutes is the average time it takes for me to leave Littenweiler, the name of my town where the school is to reach to downtown Freiburg (where all the cool canals are). I enjoy tramming it there because you see the uninterrupted livelihood of German folks! The clothes that wear them, the buildings they inhabit, the innocence of their children, or even the love between older couples who I've realized travel much more often than their peers in my home country.

1 & 3/4 weeks is the total time that I have been here. Prior to my departure from Toronto, the sappy person that I am, I, like an expert fish catcher, reeled in several goals that I wanted to take out of this experience and one of them being to amass as much German as I can. Truthfully, I failed my German course last year, because I dropped it! However, now that I'm here, I'm being given a second chance to redeem myself. Shout out to my dad, who, one day encouraged me to pick up more languages! [DAD I would never forget what you said]

40 minutes is the time I took on Sunday morning to simply spend quality time with my Maker. Pressed play on some of my best soul calming music, meditated on some key lines from the latter part of Ephesians 1, and made a list of things I wanted to pray about. It's not surprising that merely 4 hours later, one of them was answered. I implore you, with your time, to spend more, on God! :)

Last summer was the time when,not having a US visa in time or not having a good enough resume,a teaching internship at Columbia Uni slipped right through my fingers and my chance at an internship to Greece was averted. It's OK, I accepted that it wasn't my turn then. Only if back then, I could have seen a glimpse of my now, having a blast in this wonderful place and on a prestigious scholarship studying the subject that launched me into the international scene, I would have been less disappointed. I echo my own words: our disappointment is God's divine appointment.

Weeks (I refuse to be precise for this one) I've been trying to finish 2 outstanding essays for a French class that I took prior to coming here. Between, planting my navel string in Freiburg, course selections, absorbing the German language, marathon-ing (yup i just coined a word)around to organize my student card, registration, contract signing and the like, I've had no time to actually concentrate on writing something, I quite frankly 1) don't care about and 2)is so arduous to grasp. Have I resigned myself to failing a course, so that I can for a long time spend a half hour at the Titisee lake on a lazy Sunday afternoon or take a walk with newly made friends in the Black Forest, or have a meal prepared for me by a funny, Finnish friend, or enjoy a glass of champagne with some Brie and honey to celebrate the good times a friend's mom had while reconnecting with her daughter, or simply enjoying a 80cent ice cream cone beckoning summer to arrive? I don't know but we will see...

21 years ago, my grandmother succumbed to cancer (well more like to the train over to heaven to finally behold her Love), but before she did, wrote upon my life that I would be hardworking. As much, as I may try to deny it, I overwork myself! I cannot do things halfheartedly,( hence my prolonged time in trying to draft the insipid papers). While in a back to earth, feet in air, face to sky moment on the edge of a lake, I promised to myself that I would have more down time moments! A summer resolution it was indeed! Thinking about it, I spend 15 hours working my 3 jobs per week, 21 hours a week in classes or teaching and the other couple thousands of seconds dedicated to volunteering. If Christ rested after wording into being the world, then who am I?

And finally,(no pun intended! Did you get it? let me know in a comment if you did LOL) it's been 12 going on 13 years that I've been attempting to master the French language. And as I scribe this, my heart is smiling because of the excitement bubbling within me! Today, I, with a dozen others are heading over to Strassbourg, France for a day packed with sightseeing goodness, fun museums, Alsatian cuisine and French speaking wonderment! A dream fulfilled is about to occur as I've never really spent quality time on the soil of the people and language that I've come to call my own! Words cannot even describe how I feel! Can't wait to share my experiences with yall!

So I leave with this thought for you to nibble on! No matter how long it may take, or how much years it will take to repay your student debt, or how far-fetched your dreams may be, sucker punch doubt, depression, fear in the face, take back your dignity and with chin up, an ear to ear smile, and a heart of gratitude, walk into your destiny.



Heart smiling,

B