The Meaning of Life, or This Blog, At Least

As you may or may not be wondering what the title of this blog means, I will force you to view the answer to this non-question (even if only from your peripheral vision). K-1 was a kickboxing league of sorts in Japan (it is no longer). The fights would be aired on television much like boxing matches in the US before pay-per-view stole all the fun. These matches were quite popular when I first moved to Japan in 2002. That's the end of the preamble...now on the story.

I lived in the prefectural teacher housing in a small 1-bedroom apartment on the first floor, but that is, of course, another story. Several other foreign ALTs (Assitant Language Teachers) lived in the same housing development, in the same building, and in the same stairwell as I did. The guy who lived above me was a Kiwi named Pike, who is a really great guy and still a good mate of mine. In about my second month in Japan, I entered a Judo tournament and wound up getting tossed on just shy of my head, which would be my right shoulder. For my efforts, I was carried away in true VIP style with flashing lights and sirens. The result of my one and only Judo tournament was a permanent trophy that took its shape in the form of a dislocated collar bone. To showcase my trophy, I walked around with my arm in a sling for about a month.

Around the same time, Pike injured his hand playing basketball and had to wear a brace of some sort. One evening after work, I went up to visit my mate, Pike, and as I knocked on his door, I noticed that his apartment number was 204. Even thought I had looked at his apartment number numerous times before this one, I had a eurethra moment. His apartment number was 204, and since I lived below him, mine was 104! Now for those of you not familiar with Chinese and Japanese culture, the last few sentences have no meaning at all, so I will explain it to you. In China and Japan, the word for the number 4 sounds like the word for death; therefore, it is a very unlucky number and most apartments and buildings do not have any floors or rooms with the number 4 in them. Back to the story, so I had a eurethra moment and shared my new discovery with Pike while exclaiming that this must be the reason that the two of us had been inured. Upon sharing this information with him, he looked up at me, grinned and said, "Yep. It's a long, hard road on the path to becoming a K-1 fighter."

As both of us were also studying Okinawan karate at the time, his statement had a unique significance and humor, and it has stuck with me ever since. We're all on our own individual paths to becoming K-1 fighters, or experts in our fields of choice, and every experience that finds us helps to shape, train and push us one step closer to that ultimate destination. These experiences, or our everyday lives, are the path, and how we walk it is seen in our reactions and the choices we make.

Unfortunately for you, the reader, this blog is mainly focused on my path, so you may or may not find it of interest, unless of course you are on the path to becoming a K-1 fighter.

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Kiwi Mouse Trap

As you may have guessed by looking at the length of time between my Haiti posts, I am a bit behind, but I am working to catch up. While I'm on, I thought I would share a video I put together on how to catch a mouse without killing it.

It's called a Kiwi mouse trap because I heard about it through a Kiwi (that's New Zealand) mate of mine. There were a couple of guys living in a flat in NZ, and they had a mouse problem, so they devised this trap to catch multiple mice without resetting the trap. The originators actually filled the bucket half-full with water because they wanted to kill the mice. So, they set up this trap in their kitchen before going to bed, and when they got up in the morning, there were more than 30 mice drowned in the bucket. Amazing, eh.

Kiwi mouse trap video by yours truly.

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Accommodating Haiti

On the compound in Gran Goave where we would be staying, there were a few buildings on the site, but everyone staying there lived in the tents that took up most of the free ground in the courtyard. We knew that we would be staying in the tents as well while we were there, so I brought an inflatable sleeping pad and a blanket. To my (and the rest of the group’s) surprise, the tents had full on air mattresses (and a couple of regular mattresses) inside them, one for each of us.

The tents on the compound.

While we knew that we would be staying in tents on the compound, what we didn’t know was that to make space for us, some of the locals had to be evicted from the tents we were staying in. Pastor Tim told us that the night before we arrived, Haitians had been sleeping in our tents and the night after we left, there would be Haitians sleeping in our tents again. It was just a part of the process of living in earthquake-devastated Haiti.

Another pleasant surprise was that there was a water cooler in the main building where we were able to get some ice cold dlo (that’s “water” in Creole) for drinking. Ok, so the 5-gallon bottles of water didn’t get delivered to the compound like they would in the U.S., but it was still cold and clean deliciousness in a bottle. Pastor Tim told us that the water pump on the compound was fed by a well that had been

The open-air, concrete urinals.

tested and was clean for drinking, but he also informed us that all the water that we were drinking from the water cooler had also been purified by some super purifier. This filter had a built-in carbon filter, UV filter, triple bypass, loop-the-loop, skip to the loo my darling filter (ok, so I made that last one up). For all intensive purposes, this water was as pure as the stuff that melts off of glaciers. There were two types of toilet facilities: porcelain toilet/shower combos and concrete open-air urinals. The latter was obviously mainly for men’s use. The toilet/shower combos reminded me of my time in Japan. Both of the apartments that I

The toilet/shower combo setup.

lived in there had combined toilet/showers, which means that the toilet and shower are in the same room with no divider. The main thing you have to watch out for with these is getting the toilet paper wet. The showers and porcelain toilets were supplied by two water tanks, a 100-gallon and an 80-gallon tank, which were filled automatically by an electric pump from the well. There were even sinks for brushing teeth and washing hands behind the toilets, which is more than I expected.

The water pump was the center of much social activity on the compound. From the time it was unlocked in the morning to the time it was locked up in evening, there was a line of people with 5-gallon buckets waiting to get their hands on the lever. Even though pumping the water was monotonous and definitely not easy, most of the people pumping the water had smiles on their faces and would carry on conversations with the people waiting in line. I imagine this was the Haitian version of the water cooler in many U.S. offices. On our first morning in Haiti, Janelle decided to give some of the locals a break from their daily chore of pumping water. She used her best sign language to let the people know that she wanted to pump the water, and

Janelle pumping water for the locals.

once they understood what she was saying, they were more than willing. As she pumped the lever up and down, water started gushing out. After a few minutes of pumping, the 5-gallon under the spout was full, but as soon as the water level reached the top of the bucket, it was replaced with another empty 5-gallon bucket. This continued for about 10-15 minutes. After the first few minutes, the smile that had permeated Janelle’s face when she was first allowed to pump some water faded to a chagrin. You can see the look on her face yourself in the video.

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Haiti, the Beginning

We flew from to Miami the first day, spent the night there, and then went on to Haiti the following day. In Miami, we stayed in the Embassy Suites Hotel. It is a very posh hotel, and it felt a bit strange staying there when we were on a mission trip to one of the poorest countries in the world. That didn’t stop us from enjoying the pool and breakfast buffet, though. For me, it was great to be back in the warm weather and humidity. I’m always so cold in Colorado, even in summer.

When we got to Haiti, it was even a bit warmer than Miami, and they threw everyone right out into the heat. Immigration was in a building that looked like it was originally a warehouse. It had a roof made of metal sheeting and felt like a human oven. It honestly must have been about 15 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than standing outside in the sun.

The Haiti team in Miami

Thankfully, there were several fans blowing waves of heated air at us while we waited in line. After being dragged painfully slowly through the immigration line, we picked up our bags and made our way outside to experience the heat and humidity first-hand. One of the Haitian guys working with the missionary organization was supposed to meet us outside with a sign. As we left the warehouse, we entered a narrow area between the building and a chain link fence. We were bombarded with offers from people to help us with our luggage and give us a ride to anywhere in the world, but there was no one with a sign waiting for us. We walk the half-mile distance the gate that would let us outside of the secured area. Sure enough, waiting at the gate was Jeanson (pronounced like Johnson) waiting for us with a sign. Unfortunately, on the way to the gate, we managed to pick up a small group of Haitian men who were “helping” us get our luggage to the truck, but $10 later, we were free of them. Shortly thereafter, Pastor Tim, the missionary we would be working with in Grand Goave showed up with the truck. We loaded up, hopped in the truck, and we were ready to hit the road. The only problem was that Pastor Tim was waiting for some building materials to clear customs, and he didn’t want to make the 5 hour round trip again to pick them up when they were just on the other side of the fence. He told us that they were meant to be cleared in about an hour and that he was going to take us to a place where we could get some lunch. The lunch stop was a gas station not far from the airport that had air conditioning. Apparently, it was also the place where the local community gathered to watch the World Cup football matches on TV because it was nearly full. However, instead of a football match, we got to watch and hear the Shakira “This Is Africa” video about 18.5 times.

After lunch, we headed back to the airport to pick up the goods. Once we arrived, Pastor Tim told us that it would be another 10-15 minutes, so we got out of the truck and sat down under a tree to wait. After about an hour passed, Pastor Tim came back and told us he needed one more signature from someone who was out for lunch, but that the signer would be back in about 10-15 minutes. About 45 minutes later, Pastor Tim came back and said that the signer still hadn’t arrived, and even though the signer would probably be there in about 10-15 minutes, he was going to send us on ahead to the mission site in Grand Goave. He told us that on a normal day with no traffic, the drive from the airport to Grand Goave took about 45 minutes, but there was never a normal day, so the trip would take about 1 hour and 40 minutes.

Loaded up and ready for our 3 hour ride to Gran Goave

The cab of the truck had room for three people, so we sent Estela, Rich, and Becca up front. The rest of us jumped up into the bed of the truck with all the luggage. It was pretty cramped, but gave us the opportunity to see a lot of scenery along the roadways and get some “fresh” air and by “fresh” I mean straight from the exhaust pipes of the other vehicles. We even had the privilege of experiencing it for nearly three hours until we arrived in Grand Goave.

Driving through Port-Au-Prince, we saw a lot of the damage done by the earthquake and loads of tent cities, but we also saw how the people are moving forward with their lives.

Some of the damage leftover from the earthquake

While everyone else in the bed of the truck was taking pictures of and staring confoundedly at the ruins of many of the buildings, I was watching the people, the survivors, and how life goes on because it has to. People were buying and selling, coming home from work and school, bathing, eating, drinking, laughing, and crying. While life in Haiti is different in many ways from life in the U.S., a lot of the everyday activities were the same. No matter where you go, people are people. They have hopes and dreams, jobs, responsibilities, and families. Parents want a good life for their children, and everybody wants to be loved.

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Haiti, A Brief Summary and a Movie!

Well, I’ve made it back from Haiti without a hitch. So much happened during the trip. Overall, it was a great trip with great people. I’ll try to split up the details over several posts in the next week, but for now, please enjoy this video that Matt put together.

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Haiti Map Action

I thought I'd post some images to show where Haiti is and where it is in Haiti that we'll be going.

This is where Haiti is in the Caribbean

First off, Haiti is in the Caribbean, near Cuba. It is actually on the same island as the Dominican Republic. You can view a larger version of the image by clicking on the image.

Map of Haiti

This is a map of Haiti. We will be flying into Port-Au-Prince early Wednesday morning from Miami, Florida.

Grand Goave location from Port-Au-Prince

After we fly into Port-Au-Prince, we will drive to Grand Goave, which is about 55km (33 miles) west of Port-Au-Prince on the coast. Apparently, we will be riding in the back of a pick up truck the whole way, so I hope it's not raining when we arrive.

Grand Goave satellite image

Here is a satellite image of the village of Grand Goave. It's right on the coast, but not sure there's much of a beach there to visit.

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Haiti Training, Part 3

We had our last training session today. It seemed like more of a review of things we discussed in the previous two sessions, but there was still some good information. We each got assigned a task for the trip like logistics, thank you notes, writing an article about the trip, etc. My task is security. I guess since I practice karate and asked about safety issues in the last session, I get to be the security guy. I’m not sure

From back left: Estela, Becca, Rich, Matt, Jason From front left: Me, Tyler, Tim, Janelle

exactly what that means, but I guess I’ll figure it out. We practiced more Creole, and Becca brought a phrase sheet with some other common phrases. As promised, I did get a picture of the group, but it didn’t turn out so well as there was a window behind us.

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