INGO Wish

I am Haitian. I belong to that category of people known as Ayisyen natif-natal. And, not altogether incidentally, I live in Haiti. 

Some years ago, an INGO ex-pat appeared in my country, on the heels of a killer earthquake. She had of course no trepidation about openly declaring how much she is enjoying her work, how “fun” it was to mingle in the affairs of a country not her own.

That evening, as I drove home, her words haunted me like the night eye in the far away sky. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I, too, want to be an INGO expat living in Haiti. 

Why do I want to be an INGO expat in Haiti?

I want to leave my country in obscurity and land in Haiti an expert: Haitians have so little capacity.

Once here, I would like to make myself at home and wield all decision-making power about staff, projects and budgets.

I would like to come here without having to pretend to speak Creole, or know Haitian laws or care about Haitian sensibilities. I would like to impose, after cursory discussions, whatever practices I saw elsewhere or that I read about, no matter how different things are here. I would like to cut and paste proposals from those places; the important thing is to include a capacity building component.

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I would like to earn three or four times the salaries (and benefits besides) of Haitians with more knowledge and experience than I, who execute the bulk of the activities. I would like to treat them all as “national staff” and not as professionals deserving salaries based on their work.

I would like to pretend that such a system is justified.

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I would like to single-source friends and former colleagues, though they have never been here, to conduct local "base-line studies." Even before they land at the airport, I would like to designate a Haitian to meet all of their needs: explain why 1804 is important to the country; arrange logistics and meetings with government officials and “local partners”; translate and help "contextualize" conversations; recommend (perfect) maids, gardeners, drivers, etc. And take them to the grocery store or to the occasional Voodoo ceremony, should they like.

I would like to celebrate “success stories” in glossy reports, gloss over unethical behaviors, and label dreadful mistakes “lessons learned." Alternatively, I would like to blame my Haitian supervisees (they’re seldom supervisors) for all that goes wrong with the projects I designed: things would have gone much better, if only I had had the chance to build their capacity!

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I would like to attend “aid effectiveness” meetings and workshops to discuss how to “raise awareness” about Haiti’s many, many, many needs, and reject any language about the country’s strengths. I would like to continually call on the government to provide “services” to poor victims, while I spend much of the money given for those very poor on R&Rs and per diems.

I would like to avoid words such as free market, competition, efficiency, investment, risks, creativity, beauty, as applicable to Haiti, and replace them with food for work, rice distributions, t-shelters, clusters—disasters. I would like to dispense with parents and citizens and speak of beneficiaries. I will have to build their capacity.

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I would like to work in a sector where results matter little, and the art of complicating simple tasks is essential. I would like to pretend that concepts like autonomy or sacrifice or discipline cannot apply to the poor, that their extraordinary potential is a myth.

I would like to socialize with fellow expats at Friday night dinners in my I-could-never-afford-this-back-home house overlooking the city. Together, we can express our disdain for Haitians with middle-class affinities or upper-class means; we can discuss how they are part of the problem, using services and amenities not available to the masses.

In fact, I would like to adopt a "best interest of the poor" standard for Haiti. 

I would like to decide that they are entitled to everything for free. I would like to make sure the ones living in shredded tents on private property not their own understand their “right” to stay there until the government provides lodging elsewhere, complete with “infrastructure.” Such great opportunities for capacity building!

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I do not mean for my Haitian colleagues to lead. Ever.

After they explain to me the different roles of the President and the Prime Minister, or the basics of the labor code, I would like to circumvent the human resource department's performance evaluation process and decide who is “proactive” or “aggressive.”

I would like to not work with Haitians who flaunt their skills.

I would like to complain about how very hard my life is, while sitting, as usual, at my desk in Port-au-Prince, with fresh organic fruit, real coffee served with real milk and brown sugar.

I would like to tell the world how “complex” the Haitian situation is, located one hour from Miami. I would like to do so while using my wireless laptop on a Saturday afternoon by a pool or a beach, sipping Coke and Haitian rum, wearing flip-flops and flip-floppy clothes.

I would like to flirt with Haitians at will but be uncomfortable and indignant and terrified if one of them should initiate banter.

I would like to be an INGO expat in Haiti because I would love to play demi-god among mortals. I would like to repeat, often, that Haitians are resilient; it's just a matter of capacity building.

My God, but by your grace, who wouldn’t like to be an INGO expat in Haiti?

 

Cf.: See Judy Brady's "I Want a Wife"