YIIP Assignment # 5 - How have I changed?

Like every travel experience I've had, living and working in St. Kitts over the summer gave me some insight into my conceptions of travel, aid, culture, and our connections as people living in different international settings. My time at the BNTF was the first tangible experience I've had in the career that I hope to soon begin. It was both a motivating and humbling experience. I fully support the work we did and that the BNTF continues to do, but I was made aware of the darker sides of aid, things like intergovernmental conflicts, less standardized practices, and limits in communication.
I am a strong advocate for giving countries or communities the tools to develop themselves, and I was challenged by the complexities that cultural differences and political tension bring to this process. I'm not discouraged by any means, but have more insight into how things work - and perhaps more importantly, how they don't.

I've also had some time to reflect on what aid is, how it is perceived domestically and abroad. The suggestion that "white" people (which I was considered) aren't really helping by participating in volunteer trips (or internships). This article is one such example. Where I agree that there are some detrimental aspects of aid, the pros outweigh the cons; the benefits and the potential for knowledge sharing, and reciprocity can enhance the lives of both the community and the volunteer but also extend to a wider understanding of culture that these people will hopefully share. I might be a little optimistic, but its in my nature and I won't accept that teaching someone a skill or supporting a community meeting can be detrimental to the people who are able to find work or given a platform to voice their opinions.

I guess as a student, advocate and volunteer I've become stronger in my convictions about collaboration, especially in terms of aid and development. There are no straight answers and every situation is different, but I think the process through which questions are developed and answered speaks to our abilities as members of the international community to come together, learn and collaborate.

YIIP Assignment # 4 - What is Global Citizenship?

I’m quite sure that I’ve described myself as a global citizen at some point of my life.  This isn’t because my identity has been found in the places I’ve visited but because I look at global citizenship as I do the golden rule.

For whatever reason I feel most like myself while I’m travelling.  Far away from routine and commutes, scheduled breaks and study groups – I have a chance to look at the world in a different way, without the distractions of every day life. More importantly however, I am able to acclimate (to a degree) to a different way of life.  To different vocabulary, customs, foods, social queues.  Some of these are easier to pick up on than others, but I think as an intern, as a traveler as citizen of the world it is my duty to try and learn from these things, to try and enrich my mind through the people that surround me on my travels. I consume the experiences selfishly at times, relishing in a beautiful sunset or an inside joke with a local friend – but where I think global citizenship comes in is through my own sharing and story telling.

I think that the time I spent in St.Kitts was especially helpful in developing my idea of global citizenship because of the challenges I faced.  Sure, I spent the summer on a tropical island in the West Indies – I got to spend my Saturdays at the beach, eat fresh mangoes everyday and go on hikes through the rainforest, but I also experienced frustrating conversations about homosexuality, learned of the corrupt practices of national officials, and was dragged into office politics.  It is both these great experiences and these challenging ones that have given me better insight into how we are limited as global citizens and how we can develop.  So I guess in all, we have the capacity to be global citizens, but its not as simple as a stamp added to your passport.  Again I’ll say that it’s like the golden rule – represent and present the countries you’ve seen and experienced in the way that you would wish your country was represented. The whole picture is hard to show, but the more we see and know the more we can show and tell. 

Girl

Below is a piece written by Jamaica Kincaid, a poet from Antigua .  A friend of mine sent it to me on a whim, and I read it at the perfect time.  To me its an incredible representation of a young female in a poor Caribbean country and the relationship between a mother and her daughter.  The annoyed undertone of imparting these "life lessons," and highlighting the young girl's missteps are sentiments that resound in the poorer neighbourhoods I've visited in St. Kitts.  The mother's shock at not having raised a confident and self-assured woman is interesting; she believes her to-do list is the only developmental tool the young girl needs, that this rapid-fire list of tasks needs no questioning or revision.  Perhaps what is most interesting to me is that "Girl" was written and published in the 1970s and its themes still resonate today.

Girl
Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap;wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry;
don't walk barehead in the hot sun;
cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil;
soak your little cloths right after you take them off;
when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn't have gum on it, because that way it won't hold up well after a wash;
soak salt fish overnight before you cook it;
is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?;
always eat your food in such a way that it won't turn someone else's stomach;
on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut you are so bent on becoming;
don't sing benna in Sunday school;
you mustn't speak to wharf-rat boys, not even to give directions;
don't eat fruits on the street - flies will follow you;
but I don't sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school;
this is how to sew on a button;
this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on;
this is how to hem a dress when you see the hem coming down and to prevent yourself from looking like the slut you are so bent on becoming;
this is how you iron your father's khaki shirt so that it doesn't have a crease;
this is how you iron your father's khaki pants so that they don't have a crease;
this is how you grow okra - far from the house, because okra tree harbors red ants;
when you are growing dasheen, make sure it gets plenty of water or else it makes your throat itch when you are eating it;
this is how you sweep a corner;
this is how you sweep a whole house;
this is how you sweep a yard;
this is how you smile to someone you don't like too much;
this is how you smile at someone you don't like at all;
this is how you smile to someone you like completely; 
this is how you set a table for tea;
this is how you set a table for dinner;
this is how you set a table for dinner with an important guest;
this is how you set a table for lunch;
this is how you set a table for breakfast;
this is how to behave in the presence of men who don't know you very well, and this way they won't recognize immediately the slut I have warned you against becoming;
be sure to wash every day, even if it is with your own spit;
don't swat down to play marbles - you are not a boy, you know;
don't pick people's flowers - you might catch something;
don't throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all;
this is how to make a bread pudding;
this is how to make doukona;
this is how to make pepper pot;
this is how to make a good medicine for a cold; 
this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child; 
this is how to catch a fish;
this is how to throw back a fish you don't like and that way something bad won't fall on you; 
this is how to bully a man; 
this is how a man bullies you;
this is how to love a man, and if this doesn't work there are other ways, and if they don't work don't feel too bad about giving up;
this is how to spit up in the air if you feel like it, and this is how to move quick so that it doesn't fall on you;
this is how to make ends meet;
always squeeze bread to make sure it's fresh;
but what if the baker won't let me feel the bread?;
you mean to say that after all you are really going to be the kind of woman who the baker won't let near the bread?

You are worthy

My entire adolescence has been intrenched in religion.  I was raised Catholic and up to a certain point lived a Christian life.  I wore a pretty white dress on my first communion, reconciled my juvenile sins with our resident priest, went to confirmation classes and officially became a Christian adult while completing the second sacrament. Since then my relationship with God has changed.  I don't discount the presence of a force outside of human law and cognition, but its form isn't as important to me as is the necessity to live as a kind, generous and gracious person.  I believe in certain aspects of religion, and know of its power to bring people together, to provide salvation, and to spread love.  Adversely I know of religion's capacity to breed hate, to exclude and to suppress.  My experiences with religion in St. Kitts have jarred my opinions a little, as its placement in a developing country has a completely different function. 

In most parts of the country church attendance is high, and there are a plethora of churches from which to worship.  We've managed to attend church twice so far - and this is not from lack of invitations courtesy of our boss and landlady.  I've been weary of attending services  due to the surprisingly brazen introductions I've had to the topic, as the approach to religion on the island is similar to that of the Southern United States.  Along with inquiring after your name, a question about religious affiliation is not far behind.  The question is not whether or not you go to church, but rather what church you go to. I opt not to admit that I am currently a Christmas and Easter Christian.

The services we have attended here have been at Moravian churches.  I've appreciated how we have been welcomed with open arms, given the opportunity to introduce ourselves, and been individually greeted by church members; yet as I sit and listen to the sermons, read the hymns and hear the parishioner's responses, I'm left with the bad taste of servitude from a tarnished spoon.  One phrase I've heard repeated over and over again is "we are not worthy." It is spoken with hands held high, heads hung low, and shortly after the donation basket is circulated. It's spoken to and by a pastor who drives a luxury car to his home in the hills, to a congregation of parishioners who walk to church in their best outfits and shoes, and leave the donation basket filled to the brim with more than they can afford.  I've grown accustomed to a certain amount of hypocrisy in western religion, the wide acceptance that human beings sin, and somehow through prayer we are forgiven. I don't agree with it, but I see it for what it is.  Listening to dozens of people put their problems in to prayer, and only prayer, is different.  The difference lies in this perception of being worthy in--and more importantly--outside of religion. 

This projection of being unworthy, of preaching a message of servitude to a community who's history is dominated by colonialism and slavery is irresponsible.  It continues a culture of oppression that this country's history is riddled with. By no means do I think that religion in the developing world has no place, I just believe that salvation should not take the place of liberation in pursuit of a better life.  Its hard to hear someone praise God for her Cancer remission on an island where there is no Cancer treatment available and its harder still to hear the congregation's support in praising God for her good fortune, rather than demanding better healthcare services, you know, in case prayer fails.  Can't these collective voices be used for progress along with prayer?  There seems to be a missing link that demotivates the voice for change, while a megaphone blasts the lord's prayer.    

YIIP Assignment #2 - The Cultural Iceberg


The cultural differences I've experienced living in Basseterre this past month have been numerous and challenging; some expected, and others not so.   I'll confess that I naively thought that my laid-back, welcoming personality would allow me to easily embrace these differences.  I can bend, but what I've learnt on this trip is that my malleability has its limits.  I've also come to learn that my position here as a representative of a poverty alleviation organization has impacted my stance on some of the cultural differences I've noticed, and has forced me to adopt a critical lens when it comes to the state of St. Kitts.


Generational Relationships

St. Kitts is a small island and the capital, Basseterre, numbers just over 15 000.  To that affect it is very difficult for you to do something (anything) without someone noticing and relaying the information to someone else, and so on.  I've slowly come to accept that everything that Claire and I do is noticed and scrutinized.  Our social choices are judged and questioned.  To some extent this is understandable, but I've discovered that this treatment is due in part to our perceived adolescence, and not strictly because we are foreign transplants in need of guidance.  The relationship between generations is strained at every angle and I have been given the sense that the old adage "children are to be seen and not heard" still holds some merit on the island.  One of the community members we interviewed shared some insight into why there was a lack of pride and camaraderie in his village, and how the treatment and nurturing of the younger generation has had a direct effect.  The gentleman noted that the younger generation hadn't been given confidence and motivation from their parents; that they had seemingly accepted their impoverished, under-educated status and hadn't projected a different life for their offspring.  The concept of motivation as a privilege is devastating to me, but its not hard to sense its absence.  Whether it is at work, at home or at soccer practice, the condescension from the older generation is there.  Younger voices and opinions are dismissed and once shot down they are rarely revived.  From a Canadian perspective I see it as discounting a generation of people who have progressive ideas about how to change the course that the country is on, on how to improve and develop St. Kitts.  From the Kittitian perspective I understand the initial skepticism, but abhor the lack of proactivity. The way children are "dealt with" is undoubtedly not working. Abstinence is promoted on account of the highly religious population, but the amount of young, single mothers on the island is staggering; the average age of prison inmates is under 18 (there are no juvenile detention centres), and gang activity has claimed over half a dozen lives since we've been here.  This isn't to paint a bleak picture of parenting or education; many Kittitians go on to university, and the country has created many wonderful minds, as my boss puts it, but they leave and seldom come back, unable to develop or practice their skills on the island.  The focus--of everyone--seems to be elsewhere.


Race

I am mixed, and I am no stranger to feeling different than my group of predominantly-white friends or the african-american side of my family.  Its a difference that I accept, and an isolation that I am seldom able to express. But, my unique ancestry--as it is mine--is something that defines me and is not a tool for which the inquiring world can utilize in their own one-dimensional definition of who I am.  Living in St. Kitts has allowed me the chance to re-examine how race defines a society, especially one that is predominantly mono-racial.  The other day someone referred to me as "white," and although my initial reaction was to laugh, I realized that being from Canada, and looking like a tourist has implications here that transcend our commonality of skin colour, and I was a little offended.  From the Kittitian perspective my race is representative of my privilege, a disposable income and certain naivety.  I am not so much personally offended by these misguided assessments but as a representative of an organization that promotes self-sustainibility, entrepreneurship and skills-training, seeing the tourism industry ingraining itself into Kittitian culture is highly disturbing to me.  Tourism will always be a large part of the foundation on which St. Kitts builds its economy (a different point of contention all together), but the way in which it is inching its way into the psyche of everyday culture is something I find hard to grapple with, and feel very isolated by.  Obviously it is something I can't personally campaign against.  I am an outsider here, and trying to liberate people to de-commodify me would prove futile, so I'm stuck wondering how the cycle is broken, and if not, how catastrophic the long-term implications are.





Dealing with Conflict

Whether it is true or not, most nations perceive Canadians as polite and friendly.  However, based on my daily interactions with people here in Basseterre, I have a feeling that our "Canadian politeness" is likely perceived as timidity and submissiveness.  People around me are constantly yelling at one another and I am continuously trying to to establish whether or not these elevated conversations are fuelled by anger.  The way people argue in public is not about what is right or wrong, good or bad, its about who commands the most attention, who's quip is timed the best to create a response from the crowd--who, if you're doing it right, will be keeled-over in hysterics.  These arguments happen at the office, at home and during everyday social gatherings.  I have grown accustomed to the volume but not the personal attacks, the mentions of weight or adultery as a means to overtake the conversation.  Apparently there is a line to be drawn, but I can't seem to see where it is.  Our boss is a staunch adversary of the current prime minister of St. Kitts.  The PM recently went on a verbal rampage calling his former colleague a hog, and another a kunumunu man or a "cuckold" as we call them, in response to the positive relationship he has with his wife.  I ask how he gets away with this and learn that the love of showmanship extends to politics; its not social issues people tune- in to hear, but the spectacle they come to see.  As a viewer of Canadian and American programming I know that "entertainment" has slowly become a staple part of news programs, and that campaigning can bring out a gritty side to the men and women we expect to run our countries, but there always seems to be a political undertone to the smearing and defamation.  Some Kittitians have rallied against the prime minister in a vote of "no confidence," naming his verbal harassment as one of the reasons but  the reactions to everyday verbal lashings remain overwhelmingly positive and there is still a level of tolerance. 


It took me what feels like an eternity to write this post.  I'd start, get angry and frustrated by the topics, and then stop.  Its been challenging and cathartic at the same time.  Most of all I think its made me a more critical observer, without infringing on my ability to participate. 







some reflections on poverty

This first week in Basseterre has been a whirlwind.  We've been getting to know the city in so many different ways, and tonight was a blatant reminder that though I live in Basseterre, a predominantly impoverished part of St. Kitts, its not the country's only side; and the developed and commercialized sector has proven to reveal more about poverty than the tin roofed shacks that border my neighbourhood have.

I've been working with the BNTF for a week now, and we've had a chance to both read about the projects they've been working on and also see the progress they are making in communities around the island.  Its promising, but the process is slow and even when projects are completed there is still work to be done in terms of maintenance and upgrades.  The resources are strained, the funds are not released fast enough and all of this falls into the hands of the BNTF staff which number less than five.  It is clear to them and to us that there needs to be more....of everything. 

The communities are small, numbering no more than three or four hundred, and the addition of a safe sidewalk for children to use while en route to school, or a health care centre that is wheelchair accessible makes a difference.  It changes their quality of life.

The other night our boss took us to "the strip," a highly developed area on the coast where the hotels are equipped with state of the art casinos, marble floors, and little acknowledgement of the poverty stricken communities but five minutes away.  Its the area of St. Kitts where locals are few and far between and fat american tourists and students are a plenty.  I struggled with acknowledging that this country relies on the income that these people generate, but wondered how one can visit a place and confine yourself to the luxuries of home, never wondering about the rest of the country, about the parts of the island that haven't been moulded to cater to the accustomed luxuries of home.

There is no blame.  If people on cruise ships didn't come Basseterre's economy would suffer a huge blow, and yet with their income, roads still remain unpaved, children go without safe school grounds, and communities live without basic healthcare services.  Where is the disconnect, and can it be bridged?

YIIP Assignment #1

Allow me to introduce myself...

My name is Karla Williams and I am an International Studies student at Glendon College.   I am technically in my 3rd year but I have a degree in English from the University of Ottawa and am considered a "transfer student."  I am interning, along with Claire, at the Basic Needs Trust Fund (BNTF) in Basseterre, St. Kitts.

I'm never formal so I figure this post shouldn't be.  So, here it goes...

I love to travel and talking about it nearly as much.

I work incessantly but am ready for a break and looking forward to running on "Caribbean Time."

I love to look.  That sounds creepy, but if I could have an extra pair of eyes, or 4, I would.  There's so much beauty and excitement in the everyday and I want to take it all in.

I can be a bit of an awkward introvert at times.

I am MADLY in love with my animals.

I will try anything; sometimes more than once.

I like things that scare me or make me a bit uncomfortable, and I will never ever turn down an opportunity to learn. The two kind of go hand in hand.

I laugh every day.

I'm learning french, and I'm terrible at it. Mais, mais je vais continuer à apprendre parce je l'aime.

If I can help, I always will.

I refuse to be bored.

I have unreasonably good people in my life, and am so thankful for them.

I love photos of animal pairs that would never meet each other in the wild.

I have a perpetual feeling of guilt over all that I have compared to what the rest of the world does.

I love books that make me cry.

I adore the ocean and cannot wait to stare at it every day for three months. 

I believe, and always will, that people are inherently good.

I act and sometimes dress like someone 3 times my age; I am an old lady at heart. Hopefully as cool as this granny.

& finally...

I hope that this post, much like the rest of my life, was sufficiently random :)