You would think distributing seed would be relatively straightforward. You buy 1 tonne of seed and if you give 10kg to each farmer than you give seed to 100 farmers. Well, not exactly. First, a couple of those bags of seed are bound to get caught on the corner of the truck somewhere and start hemorrhaging slowly. Next, once the bag is open and the seed is being portioned out there is bound to be some spillage there. Third, and perhaps most importantly, the standard measure in rural Haiti is the marmite, not the kilogram. One marmite is approximately equal to 5 lbs. Unless you are in Fonds Verrettes where a marmite is equal to 6 lbs. Or in certain markets where a marmite is 7lbs. Plus a marmite is typically a recycled metal can of a standard size as pictured below. You can see that depending on who is filling the marmite, that the final seed weight could easily vary by 5 or 10%.

None of this is so big a deal until you start dealing in several tonnes of seed (35 tonnes and counting in our case). By the time you add up those little losses here and there, it ends up being hundreds of kgs. The photo below should explain.

I should acknowledge the possibility for the doubters (myself included) that the seed loss might be explained by a few bags 'escaping' from the back of the delivery truck and falling into the hands of not-quite-so-honest community leaders or other individuals of dubious distinction. Although this is not totally out of the question, the probability is low, since so many people are involved in the delivery process from beginning to end, that it would be extremely difficult for someone to walk away with a 50 kg bag without being noticed. Numerous other shady scenarios are possible: it is known that in some countries, emergency aid has been diverted by armed groups and sold to buy weapons for example. Helping people is just so complicated...

It's raining in Port au Prince. Which I have mixed feelings about. To be honest when it first started raining this evening I was relieved, because so many farmers have planted crops which are just in the first throes of drying up and a few days from now will be lost. So farmer need the rain. On the other hand, all those folks living in provisional or no shelter in ravines in Port au Prince definitely do not need this rain. So what to do? A quick call to one of our project areas indicates that it is not raining out there. How sad is that?

A picture of a bean field in our project area taken a week ago.

Our country director here in Haiti just set his cell phone ring to 'Mission Impossible'. This strikes me as hilarious in more ways than one.

The shape of things to come in Haiti

Below you will see a photo of a mass of rebar extracted from a building or possibly several buildings. You may recall that people are taking down damaged houses chunk by chunk, using mallets. What you see below is the results of their labours. Such piles of metal are being re-used wherever possible. Nowadays you see people going over damaged sites looking for whatever scraps of rebar, metal sheeting, hardware, etc that might be in good enough shape to re-incorporate into a repair or a new building somewhere else. Technically, no one is supposed to do any rebuilding until the government has presented an updated building code. In the second photo you will see concrete being poured bucket by bucket for some new, but unauthorized construction going on at an undisclosed location...

Yesterday I was coming in from work around 8:30 pm, driving along the dirt road to the house where I am staying, kind of thinking about what a long day I had had. Then in the dark beside me, appeared a woman walking, carrying her empty baskets which during the day had probably been full of whatever merchandise she was selling. She had clearly had an even longer day, and walking in the hot sun instead of driving. She was also probably heading to the nearby tent city and instead of being able to sleep in a safe and dry tent like myself, she would be sleeping under a tarp wrapped provisionally around some wooden poles, or worse under cotton sheets. This made my tired long day suddenly seem like an absurd joke. The whole situation just underscored for me yet again the unbelievable enormity of what has happened here. In spite of all our best efforts. I don't mean to downgrade in any way the relief efforts that are going on. In many ways they have been heroic. But we should all be humbled by vastness of this, whatever it is. In a strange kind of way it is sort of like looking up at the stars at night and realizing what a tiny speck we are in this great big universe.

So are my stomach problems blog-worthy? Yesterday they seemed pretty important. You know when you get that ominous gurgling that seems to move at will between various parts of the digestive tract, rendering you physically and emotionally incapable of thinking about anything else? Anyhow last night one of the neighbours brewed up some tea with various leaves (mango and cherimoya, I think). It was a darkish orange colour and was mixed with salt, which did not really cut the powerful bitter flavour. Nevertheless, I drank the whole thing, and guess what? Today although still not 100%, I am feeling much better. This is not the first time I've accepted a local remedy for various illness I've picked up in my travels. Maybe it's just coincidence, or mind over matter, but I find the efficacy to be quite high. I'm pretty convinced in any case, and have gotten to the point where I would probably try just about any local remedy if it was offered to me by someone I trusted.

Here's another picture of folks working on anti-erosion barriers. The benefits are two fold, as I think I've explained: people get paid, which gives them short term income, and the soil conservation slows the soil loss, providing a longer term benefit. Normally we don't pay people to do work; everything is done through community groups and the incentives are things like credit. This is our next big challenge since we want to provide short term relief for the urgent needs but we are also looking to the longer term, and transitioning back to more sustainable approaches.

One has to be careful about complaining since there are always people nearby who are in much worse shape. That being said, our office is getting low on water these days, and since we have been staying there the past few days, all the staff and ourselves are relying on the few gallons that are left for everything from cooking to bathing. Below is my boss scooping a bucket of water one pitcher at a time.

So our soil conservation/tree planting program is in full swing in Haiti. Over 600 people are working everyday and have planted thousands of trees and dug many contour canals. Besides the obvious benefits of improving soil and tree cover, this project is also providing much needed emergency cash to families overwhelmed by relatives fleeing the city.

After getting past my initial gaff (by way of Chicago, California, Dallas, Miami), I finally arrived in Costa Rica. I had a thoroughly good time teaching and am hoping the students got at least something out of it. In addition the country itself lived up to its reputation and was full of pleasant surprises. Eg. the sign below, in a rural community, says that they have a committee for the protection of natural resources. How great is that?

A rookie mistake. And the worst possible kind. My pride is seriously damaged.

Last week I went to Costa Rica to teach a short course on agroforestry. Which was quite enjoyable. The problem is on the way there I managed to book a ticket to San Jose, California, not San Jose Costa Rica. And I didn't clue in until the plane had taken off from Chicago, and the pilot announced that our flight path would be over Nebraska and Wyoming. I just sank down into my seat and felt about 2 feet tall. I think I may have cursed out loud. This is made much worse for me by the fact that all the way back to grade 5 I knew there was a San Jose Costa Rica and a San Jose California. I used to dominate, (dominate I tell you), our grade 5 geography quizzes. Which we had every week because our teacher back then also liked geography. Me and my best friend knew every country and every capital.

So sitting on a plane going to California was the worst possible torment for me. Some kind of bad karma perhaps. Maybe for so recklessly dominating grade 5 geography quizzes.

For those of you who want to know more about the organization I work for, and why we do what we do, you may want to check out Scott Sabin's new book, Tending to Eden

http://www.plantwithpurpose.org/page/64/tending-to-eden.html

Scott is a good friend and a respected colleague, so it is difficult for me to review this book in an unbiased fashion. Still I think it captures very well the the importance of addressing environmental and poverty issues on a personal and global level. Underlying the narrative of Scott's book is his own personal journey--an important element, I believe, in poverty alleviation. Helping the poor is not just something we 'do': an easily assembled package which we can air-drop into a community and watch it take effect. Rather it is a journey that we join into with a community. Our personal journey cannot be separated from those with whom we join. In that sense, Scott is sharing his journey with those who read this book. I hope this book becomes a part of your journey.