Lost baggage

I have been home physically for over 24 hours. Still waiting for my brain to arrive. Seems to have gone the lost luggage route. Will write more later, but in a nutshell, it took me more time to get from JFK to home than it did from Haiti to JFK. Any guesses?

Surprise endings

27 May

The sun is shining when I wake, that’s a good sign that today is the day when I will actually perform for the kindergarten.

Fanel is waiting for me when I come out. Everything looks good. We walk to the school, where I seen it while wandering. We are met at the end of the alley by a wheelbarrow full of rubble. As we round the corner, there is a sea of orange helmets. The crew that I have seen working at different sites around the city has moved on to its next assignment, right across the narrow alley from the school. As we enter the yard, expecting dozens of little faces, I am stared at by empty chairs and tables. There is no school today because of the demolition work. Tomorrow too. They expect to be done by Monday, two days after I leave. What a disappointment. I can’t believe this is happening again. I had specifically requested this performance, and if it weren’t for my meeting Fanel on the street, it probably wouldn’t have even got this far.. I am bummed. Fanel didn’t know about it either. He makes a quick phone call and asks if I would like to go to another school in Cay Jacmel. It will be a taptap ride, but it is ok if I want to. I am all geared up, so we jump for it.

The school is outside of Jacmel, along the coast. It is a small school, five classrooms, all with male teachers. The children do not have uniforms, a first for me here. The director of the school volunteers to shoot video for me. I show him how to use the camera quickly. I go out in front of the school and the children gather around. Soon there are children from two other schools there too, I can tell by their uniforms. They start out very quiet,not quite sure what to make of me. Little giggles are stifled, but they warm up and soon laughter is ringing out, more people arrive. The school is out in the country, so I’,m not sure where they were coming from. It ends up with well over 100 people there. I am dripping with sweat in the morning heat, but it is all worth it. One rector takes me from class to class and takes my picture in every one. Very sweet. He wants to know when I will come back. One girl wants to learn how to juggle, bvery brave of her in fronmt of the whole school. She tries valiantly, but has some trouble.. A young boy thinks he can do better, but finds it difficult as well. I do think she understood what the pattern and rhythm are, I’m pretty sure she will figure it out on her own.

There is a moto that offers us a ride, but Fanel says we will catch a taptap. But the idea of a moto ride and the breeze cooling me off is too tempting, so I convince Fanel that I will pay for the moto. On the way back we see a man throwing pots on the side of the road. I ask if we can go back and watch him, and WE DO! This is a first for me here. Usually when I am being transported somewhere, there is no stopping al9ong the way for any reason other than a flat tire or someone vomiting! His wheel consists of a tire rim mounted on a post. It spins very freely as he nudges it along with his hand. He is just finishing one large pot as we arrive. He has a jig set up with different shapes of tin wedged in place with shims. Very ingenious. Next he throws the platter for the base. Totally fascinating to see this master at his craft. Soon there are other people stopping to watch him work. They probably pass him every day but never take the time to watch him at his creativity. I am glad I stopped to watch. I loved how he would scoop cement powder out of the bag and dust the platter to set it. I surreptitiously drop some money into the cement bag as we leave. I would have loved to see his surprise the next time he dipped into the grey powder.

Fanel leaves me on the moto to go deliver some letters, we head for the hotel but are detoured. The road is closed for some reason. My driver knows the back streets,, so we worm our way there, passing by the Marche Acrobate where I performed the other afternoon. It was fun to see the space back in its normal form, not teeming with people and ringing with laughter,

I just get into my room when I hear a band playing. I rush out onto the street to see the band disappear down the street followed by throngs of people. I gather that some bishop in the Catholic Church is visiting and these are his followers, literally. I didn’t see him but I heard he was wearing a pink hat! Is that a miter?

I returned to my room and decide to review the film shot by the director of the school I had seen him moving around a lot, hettingt lots of different angles and shots so was excited to see what he had captured. To my shock, there was absolutely nothing on the camera he had shot. It seemed that he had never turned the camera on, never pushed the record button. I am very bummed. Here was finally some footagte shot by a Haitian of a school show, and NADA. It was a great show with beautiful children. The good thing is that it is in their memory, just not the camera’s .

I go for a little walk, to visit one of the local artiste’s shop. He is not there, but I get a couple of things to bring home. As I’m walking back, I hear my name. It was my moto driver from this am.

I spend some time in the afternoon starting to organize to pack. I leave the day after tomorrow.. Fanel kept asking when I will be badk. The director of the school wanted to know when I will return. I will go into my busy season when I get home. I can’t see getting back until September or October. It seems like a long time.

I battled with going out in the afternoon. I realized I have been out multiple times every day I have been here. I decide to take a break. I am greeted by a light rain as I step outside the hotel. I did decide to just go and sit on the street and watch the late afternoon traffic. To my surpirse and gratification, I am greeted by many people who recognize me. That felt really good that in my short time here I have touched many lives, bringing a little light and a little humor to their Haitian lives.

I check my blog. I can only assume people are reading it.. It is very different than performing where I can see my audience and feel their reactions to my work. This writing thing is very differentl. In the time I have been here, I have only received 4 comments. Oh well.

I go up onto the roof to watch the rising full moon. It is beautiful, fighting it’s way through the scudding clouds. I thought that it represented the quality of lightness in a Haitian’s life. It is there, for sure, but sometimes it gets covered up, but it is still there, and with a little patience, it will appear. Hopefully my work here has been like the wind, helping to push the clouds away so the moon can be clearly seen and appreciated.

I hear my name. I see that Lindor Walking is on the roof with me; he comes toward me and presents me with another of his wonderful recycled soda bottle bags. This one has a cover. In the inset where his name was on the other one I bought were these words; Lindor Walking and Roger the Best, Haiti 2010. He wanted me to buy another bag. How could I refuse with such an inscription? He wants to return tomorrow to have me take his picture.

And so ends another day here in Jacmel. This one was full of unexpected endings.

There has been a plan afoot to go to Bassin Bleu tomorrow with Caleb and Caleb, Ben and Nick, I think it would be good to end my trip with a trip there, supposedly we will leave around 11. I’ll see what transpires.

by request

26 May

After my morning ritual of café on the street, I come back and organize the room a bit so that they can change the sheets and sweep. It dawns on me that I’m leaving in three days time.

Fanel is to meet me at 8 :30 to take me to La Pouponniere. It’s not raining, so I am excited, only to find out that there is no school today due to a demonstration planned against the government. Strike two.

We agree that we will try again tomorrow. I’m running out of time to do this one show I’ve been looking forward to. We’ll see what transpires.

Vladmi is also there and reminds me that his friend Junior wanted to cut my hair. He calls and says that Junior is on his way. I go change out of my performance kit and am ready to go. We walk through the morning traffic into an area that I’m not familiar with, at least I’m seeing some new territory. He opens his shop, a narrow slice of a building with two barber chairs, really more like a hair salon chair. To my surprise, another guy starts cutting my hair!! Certainly not a problem. it’s Junior’s business I learn and he cuts too but not me!! He throws in comments and suggestions as the scissors snip away. He cuts my hair with the same meticulous attention I’[ve witnessed during my whole trip. It felt like he was cutting one hair at a time.

Junior had brought along a safety pin, and siad he had tried to replicate a trick he had seen me do unsuccessfully. He wondered if I would teach him. He was overjoyed when I complied. We talked about magic, the mystery and power of it, and the barber commented on the difference between magic and a trick. For them there is a real distinction. Magic has to do with voodoo and there need be some hidden power in order to do it. A trick is just a trick. I tell them that for me the difference is in the motivation. Magic is used to control and maintain power. A trick’s purpose is to amuse. It was a very interesting discussion. Junior is thrilled with the tricks I have taught him.

Rain pelts down as the haircut is finished. I watch the parade of people passing by in the rain with every possible contraption to hide from it. Seven school boys move like a centipede under a blue tarp..

A cardboard box serves as an umbrella. Real umbrellas in every stage of disrepair do the trick. And then there are so many who just walk on through the falling water. People are soaked to the skin with nary a care it seems. The rain doesn’t last long, though it did come down rather hard. As we walk back toward the hotel, water shoots off the roofs of buildings through a pipe. Water runs down the street in mini torrents, carrying along bottles, paper and bits of trash.

As I neared the hotel I was so pleased to see Abel Michel, the old artiste who lives close to the hotel.. I have looked for him ever since mya rrival and have never seen him or any semblance of life at his gallery. I assume he lives there too. I have asked several people and noone seemed to know anything about him, so it was with great joy I saw that he is alive, well and he seemed to remember me.

Early in the afternoon, I decide to go to the market. I have a great time, playing, I juggled large wooden ladles, did a rope trick, and joked with the vendors. I wandered up to the main square and as I passed some young men called me over. They were dancing to the music of the radio station that broadcasts out of a t5ent there. I ended up doing some tricks, I didn’t have all my gear with me, but a piece of string, a rubber band, a couple of balls and a bottle off the ground was more enough to get them going.

I have started to make a small collection of pieces of rubble that still have paint on them, I have found many colors, not sure what I’ll do, but it keeps me wandering about.

A young boy follow me as I leave,. He speaks a little English and is not pushy about asking for money, he is good company as I walk. I go back to the shop where Sarah and I saw them painting the paper mache’. I blought a beautifully painted mango, incredibly light in weight and delightful in its coloring.

As I walk back toward the hotel, the young boys bids me farewell and returns to his life, hopefully a little brighter now that we spent some time together.

I take another rest, I am feeling tired after 11 days of performking here, but recharge quickly after a little rest in the room.

I go out for my afternoon performance. I am quickly joined by Lindor Walking, the basket maker, who asks if he can join me. Its always nice to have someone to come along. His English isn’t very good and he slips in Creole easily. I had an idea of where I wanted to go, so I lead the way. We had not reached the spot I had planned when a small group of women and children nearly demanded a performanbce. I gladly complied and was soon surrounded by a crowd that was several people deep, probably about 150 strong. Their laughter fills the afternoon falling light.

As I walk back to the hotel, I am beckoned across the street by a man sitting in a rocking chair in front of his shop. He asks for a show. I explain that I have just finished one and am quite fatigue, but he is very persistent. I do a couple of little tricks and soon there are about 25 men standing around me wanting more. A couple of coin tricks, a safety pin and my scarf are called in service. They do the trick, the men are laughing heartily. I love how they tease each other about each tirck I do. The man offers me the rocking chair to sit in after and sends for a drink for me.. What a beautiful way to end the day, rocking, sweating and surrounded by laughing men.

Sister Teresa

25 May

From before daylight I could hear the rain outside my window. Not a downpour, but rain nonetheless. The last time I had arranged to perform at the preschool, I got rained out. Fanel had said that there is not a space inside large enough for all the children. So when I went downstairs at 800 am, my hopes were not very high. What happened though because of the rain was quite marvelous. Vladimir, who is probably 16, saw me and came across the street to greet me. His English is quite good, and he wondered where I was going. He said that he had no school because of the rain. He said laughing, when it rains in Haiti, there is no school. He saw that two of his friends were standing out of the rain on a porch across the street. He called them over and introduced them. They too spoke English quite well. He asked about juggling and said that he had already been juggling at his house this morning. I did n’t have any equipment with me except for the rubber bands around my wrist. I did a couple of tricks and he wanted to learn them.. And so began a three hour session that ended up with about a dozen of his friends learning some basic magic skills, several learned how to juggle three balls, one was mesmerized by a string trick I had done, a cut and restored trick., I later saw him doing it for a friend!! So it wasn’t to be for me to perform for 172 preschoolers. I hung out with a bunch of young men who were very eager to learn my skills.

After a short rest, I go have lunch at my favorite little street place, the food is great, the flies are thick, and a dog waits for my chicken bones, what could be better. I come back to the hotel and get ready to go to the orphanage at 3. As I come out of the hotel I am met by Manno, Vladi, and Seby, who ask if they can accompany me to the orphanage. I welcome their company. On our way there, we pass a group of men sitting and playing some game, I couldn’t see whatl They wanted me to do a show for them but I told them I couldn’t but would come on my way back. When we arrive at the orphanage we are let in and we continue on up the hill to the main building. There is no one there to meet us, and even when we ask for Sister Teresa, there seems to be some confusion. We are told to wait. Soon a rather round sister approaches us, she is Mexican but speaks very good English. She gives me the green light, calls the children together and I’m on my way. There was a team of doctors visiting from the hospital across the road and they watched most of my show too. The children were very happy at the end and I shook everyone’s hand. It was obvious that some had mental disabilities, but they were very playful and charming. When I finished and was packing up I went to thank the sisters, but they had all disappeared, so we simply walked out the gate.

I was hot and thirsty, I had forgotten my water. We were headed back to the hotel and were passing by the men who had called out before. No way they were going to let me walk past. I agreed to do something for them. I intended to give an abbreviated show, but the crowd grew very big, close to 100 and I kept going. It was another winner. Manno had only taken one picture at the orphanage, which was a little disappointing to me. Seby asked if he could shoot the street show and he did a great job.

It was a full day. I decided to walk to the beach to wind down from the day’s excitement. I love walking, observing, and noticing new things. I started to pick up colored pieces of rubble. Not sure what to do with them but they caught me eye. During my walk I actually found the preschool where I was to perform this morning. It is called La PouPonniere Kindergarten.

I decide to just go there tomorrow if it is not raining. As I was relaxing after dinner, someone knocked on my door, it was Fanel, apologizing for not coming this morning. So it is all set for tomorrow, as long as it doesn’t rain.. But I heard someone say today that this rain will last for 5 days. My fingers are crossed.

St Michele drunk

24 May

After a great breakfast on the street, my favorite, I walk toward the market in search of adventure. The market is bustiling even at this early hour of 6:30. I so love being swallowed up by a culture like this. Total immersion.
I see a man selling lumieres, little oil lamps that he makes out of an old jar, a little tin fashioned around it to form a holder, a hole in the lid where he has soldered a wick holder. He was adding the wicks when I found him, tearing up a t shirt into thin strips and threading them into the holder.
Brilliant stuff.
I get a couple of beautiful mangoes and a piece of rope made out of used plastic sack.
I arrive back at the hotel at 8, just as I am arriving I am stopped by a young man. He wanted to show me something. Out of a black plastic bag he pulls a small woven basket. It is beautiful in its simplicity and form. It is made out of plastic, but I didn’t realize that it was made of recycled plastic bottles. I’ve heard of things made of these, but this is a first time to see something woven.. On the side of the basket is place where he has written his name. I recognized it as the name written on the back of my overalls costume. Lindor Walking!! What a chance meeting. I bought one and encouraged him to keep making them.
Fedony picks me up at 9;30 and we hop onto a moto to go to a school. I love traveling like this, it is cheap, economical and fun! We arrive at a small structure made of two by fours and tarp. The walls are woven palm fronds. Inside it is divided into four squares, each with a sheet of masonite for a blackboard, small bench desks are crowded with the neatly dressed children. The youngest is 5, the oldest maybe 14. There are 45 students in this space no bigger than a one car garage, with four teachers. I am introduced and off we go. One small boy becomes my comic sidekick, very funny and animated about everything I do. At the end they sing for me.
We walk back to the main road to catch another moto. Fedony asks if I want to go to the hotel or to Manoget. I choose the latter, wanting to see my friends there again. It is quite quiet when we arrive, the workers are stopping for lunch, so I join them for a plate of rice and beans. An older boy asks to play my concertina, a child asks for a ball, another wants the diabolo, soon all my things are dancing around the yard accompanied by the efforts on the concertina.; it was quite beautiful to see them all playing with my gear. Sarah had told me that she had talked to someone at the airport about my work, and was told that laughter was one of the 7 steps of survival. I googled it, actually play, but the two go hand in handl And there was a lot of play going on since I had arrived.
I got a ride back to the hotel to rest again. I am finding that a rest in the midday heat makes a lot of sense. I recharge my battery to go out again in the late afternoon.
When I go out, I meet Manno who asks if he can come with me. I always enjoy his company and he has taken some very nice pictures, so we go off together. I wanted to check out the orphanage near the hospital, so it will be good to have Manno along. As we walk along many children recognize me and call out Roget! We stopped at a shop where they were building a coffin. I clarified that it was not for me. They all laughed.
We find the Missionaires de Charite very easily. Their sign is still there and it is directly across from the hospital. Manno speaks with the guard at the gate. It seems that now is not a good time. Come back tomorrow. But next thing I know, we are being ushered in, and up the slight hill to a large building that is still standing. To our right is another that is totally flattened. We meet a nun halfway up the hill. She speaks English and I have a very nice conversation with Sister Teresa. She loves the idea and asks if I can come back tomorrow at 3. Perfect!!
We continue on our wander, not looking for a good spot for a show. There is a group of young girls sitting on a porch. Bingo! I set down my bags. A crowd quickly forms including one very drunk man who insists on singing the whole time. It felt a bit like an opera, everything I did was being sung about it seemed. He had two little girls with him, the younger, maybe 3, was petrified of me. I gave her tons of space. The show grew to 150, probably the biggest street show I’ve had this time. Several motos had stopped, maybe about 10-, the little girl was inching closer. By the end of my show, as I was packing up, she was standing right next to me and I could feel her hand on my back. Another small victory. The druck seemed to be getting a little belligerent when several men had urged him to back off. Manno wanted to leave, so off we went. The drunk followed us, with his two girls in tow. Manno seemed concerned, but I felt ok. He eventually turned back. I felt so sorry for those two litle girls.

Take two

23 May

I had run into Fedony yesterday and he had asked if I would perform for the childrens’ service tomorrow at Manoget at 8 am. I agree. I was up early to go out for café and banana y zay, my favorite breakfast here; a banana, two hard boiled eggs with a touch of hot sauce. Try it. I also wanted to take all the bags of clothes that we had carried down with me. And the forward edge team had left a few things, including a bag of dirty laundry, nice thought, but a little tacky I felt.

I was downstairs at 7:45 with all my bags, ready to go, by 8:45 I gave up and went upstairs to write. At 9:45 Zangmo showed up, saying that he had forgotten me. When we arrive the church service is in full swing, there’s not a seat available full house, tent that is, A woman offers me her seat. It was fun to see them all in their Sunday best after seeing them working all week.

After the service the children all want to play with my equipment, so I break out all the toys.

A little boy of maybe 6 years does really well with the3 diabolo. I also had brought along a large orange exercise ball that they were really enjoying/ A light rain fell as many colored balls flew in every direction.

One taptap load leaves packed to the gills. When it returns, it’s my turn. I get in thinking I[m going to the hotel, but didn’t realize that I was going to

Feldny[s house for

Sunday dinner. His house is very sijm0ple, concrete block, but it is still standing, and so much better than a tent.

Back at the hotel, I take a rest. The afternoon heat is pretty stifling, and I feel it’s a good time to rest/write. Etc.

I had planned to go out and play but I felt some hesitation. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why, but there was something preventing me from going out. Finally I thought, if I’m going, I need to go now

So out the door I went. As I walked up the street, I heard my name. that’s not getting to be so rare, but what was amazing was that it was Fanel, the man I had talked with in March about performing at his preschool. What a chance meeting, now I see why I had waited, to meet Fanel. He walked with me to the place where I head up the hill to St Helene. I was met there by a group of 5 or 6 boys who had been there yesterday. They were so excite3d to see me again. Fanel took our picture

As we walked u 0p the hill more children spotted me. I had decided not to do it in the same place but to go further into the camp. As I walked u0p the path, I looked and there was about 25 children running toward me3.

What a welcome., they took me to a small covered pavilion where they danced jubilantly over my return. I eventually moved out into the o0en to accomodate3 the large crowd, over 100 strong at the end. It was getting dark by the time I finished..

What a triumphant return. This was the first time I had gone back to the same area the next day, I was stunned by how enthusiastically I was received.

Even Odds

22 May

We are up and ready to leave the hotel at 5:30 to lget to the airport in PAP. But there is no bus to pick us up! He was to be there at 5:15 so we would leave by 5:30. Zangmo, our taptap driver, arrives at 5:45. We still have gobs of time. The trip should take more than 3 hours and the groups flight leaves at 11:30. We hit horrific traffic coming to Jacmel, so everyone is a little nervous about time. \

We zip along the early morning roads, lots of Saturday markets bustling with activity already at 7 am. We are doing fine unt8il we hear a hissing sound. We have a punctured tire, having skewered te tire with a 3/8” bolt! We all help and are back on the road in less than 15 minutes. Still doing fine for time. And then suddenly, one of the team is sick and about to vomit in the van. We quickly stop and she disappears into a ditch, returning a few minutes later looking a lot less green.

We again encounter the horrible road conditions approaching PAP, huge craters full of water, the only way to judge the depth is to watch the vehicle ahead as they plunge in. We bottom out badly in one and we all hold our breath to get to the other side safely. Fortunately we are following a bus with Maitre de Impossible written over a huge painting of Jesus across the back of the bus, it gives us all faith that we’ll make itl. And make it we did, even stopping along the way to exchange the tire for a good one. I dash out and grab some bananas, eggs, and fried patties for everyone’s breakfast.

We arrive at the a\airport to see huge long lines standing outside the American entrance. The team is flying American. We say our goodbyes and then look for the Delta entrance. Fortunately, the line is much shorter there, Sarah is taken early to the front, in the shade and even some steps to sit on. It is just 9 am, and they won’t start checking people in until 10:25. We say our goodbyes and I leave her in the hands of a nice Canadian couple also on the same flight.

I easily find Zangmo, and we head back to Jacmel. But silly of me, why would he drive back with just me/ We go to a local bus stop and get in line to pack the bus with Haitians Jacmel bound. Otn the trip to PAP Zangmo had been the one Haitian with 10 Americans. Now I was about to be the one American with who knows how many Haitians will fill the bus!! We have to9 wait for a bit, so I hop out and wander around the busy bus stop. There are many of the big buses, all gaily painted, standing in a long row, waiting their turn to be filled and dispatched. And everywhere there are vendors, very portable since they have to keep moving out of the way of the buses. They sell drinks, food, soap, bread, you name it. One woman tries to sell me three cans of condensed milk. What an opportunity, how could I refuse? I juggled them for her. A crowd gathered. A magic trick. They were loving it.; I looked and saw that the bus was full except for the front seat where my bag was, so I wrapped up, grabbed my condensed milk, and hopped in for the ride back to Jacmel.

On top of the mountain there was one UN excavator pushing back the recent mudslide. In the next few kilometers we passed over 100 men working with shovels and wheelbarrows doing the same work. The Haitians have an incredible work ethic. Whoever I watch, whether it is someone preparing food, wielding a shovel, mending shoes, fixing flats, or selling wares, there is an amazing attention to detail, no make that minutae.

took a wander around the market after I had a great lunch of poulay y maiz moulay, Had fun buying some rope from a man, also picked up a couple of mangoes. They are so yummy.

As is my way, I always like to explore new streets, so I picked a new one. I thought I knew where I was, but it seemed that for a little bit I was olost… had a general idea where I was and where I neede to go, but for a while, I was just strolling along, greeting people along the way, and enjoying my walk. Eventually I came out on a road that I had been on back in March, it looked a little3 familiar, and sure enough, it took me back to where I knew where I was. Is that called wanderlost???

After a rest to make up for the early start, I wanted to go out and play at the nearby tent city called St. Helene. I hadn’t barely entered the camp before I had a crowd gathering. Again all ages were present. This was the first time I had gone out totally on my own, Sarah has left, and there was no Haitian accompanying me. I wondered how it would go, it went fantastic. Gain by the end all ages were present, and probably about 100 strong. They love that I play the national anthem for them. Children wanted to know when I would come again. I said maybe tomorrow.

Beach Party, 21 May

After our morning café run down the street, I had planned to write, but instead of breakfast at the hotel as scheduled, we went up to the church. The kitchen ladies love hearing me say “sa say coupay dwet,” and I love sneaking into the kitchen to see what they are doing. They chastise me for not coming yesterday, they say they had made maize moulay for me.

After breakfast we take a walk into the countryside to see the land where the new church and school will be built. It was a nice change from town life to walk out in nature. It is a beautiful land here in spite of all the deforestation, erosion and litter. Where we were were none of these.

We then walked back and to the school that is nearby. It is called Fils de Lumiere. I remembered it as the vey first school I had performed at in March. But this time I recognized many of the children from the church and was very welcomed by them. I had a great little show, what luck for me to have worn a red shirt, it stood out great against their yellow and green uniforms. They sang along with the national anthem, though not as loudly as I had hoped for.

It was the last day for the Forward Edge and also for Sarah, so they had planned to go to a nearby beach. We waffled on going, but decided it would be a nice thing to do, so we piled into the truck, I think there were 18 of us in the pickup. Raymond Beach is about 30 minutes East of Jacmel along the coast. We passed by the Hands and Feet Orphanage along the way. When we arrived we sat under a pavilion at a long table and set up our base there. Some people swam. Sarah and I had thought that a trip to the beach would not be that different from Antigua, but we were so wrong. The sea was so different, the waves were very confused, floating on my back was like getting a massage in a Jacuzzi. Lunch came, beautifully grilled fish, spicey, nicely blackened, with plaintain. After we ate the rest of them walked down the beach to look for waves to body surf on. I saw some boys playing soccer, so grabbed a diabolo and went to work. They were very playful and loved what I was doing for them. I wandered back up the beach and they followed me, now asking me to do it again for their friends they had gathered. There was also a bus load of white people, who watched out their open bus windows. We played for almost an hour, juggling, ball spinning, and I got a good workout of two diabolos!

When we got back to the hotel, they wanted to go buy some souvenirs, so Caleb took us all to a place he knew. It was up near where I had done a show two months ago. The young men recognized me when I walked up. It was raining as we walked. Crazy blah. All the Haitians watched as we moved up the street. There was a woman holding a little boy, maybe two years old. I offered to hold him as she helped her husband wrap up the purchases. He was very comfortable in my arms. But he grew heavy, so I passed him off to Sarah, next thing I knew, he was sound asleep in her arms.

That evening there was a farewell dinner on the hotel roof for all of the Forward Edge team and Sarah, since she would be leaving tomorrow. I stood in the back as they individually acknowledged each person for their unique talents. Wonderful local crafts were given to each one. Sarah was touted for being a good reporter!! They said that they were sorry, but there was nothing for me; I climbed onto the balcony railing ,threatening to jump, they shrieked in delight and beckoned me back. Since I’m here another week, I’ll get my farewell next week!!

20 May, Day of the Oreos

20 May

Sarah and I start the day by having a c afe on the street. I love the dark, hot and sweet mixture handed to us in tin cups. We stroll up to the market and pick our way through the labyrinth of sellers, wondering how it all works. There are so many vendors all selling the same products. But it seems to work, they continue to return day after day to set up some very elaborate displays and then hawk their wares all day.

We meet Manno at 11 to go to the orphanage run by some Americans. He has a friend who works there, and he thinks that between his connection and me being an American will be enough to get us in. We hop onto tap taps, the name for the motorbike taxis, and off we go. Sarah is like an oreo, sandwiched between the driver and Manno. I ride on another bike, open faced.

This was our first ride on tap taps this time, and I love the feeling of the warm air rushing past as we weave our way through the traffic. We arrive around 11:30. We go to the gate and are met Manno’s friend, Francine. She introduces us to Michelle, the American woman inside. I give her an abbreviated description of what I would like to do, and she agrees to let me perform, but only for about 20 minutes, she has to eat lunch and have a meeting with the mayor.

She calls the children together and I perform inside a large room with teeny benches for the teeny children. Most are 6 or under. They warm up very fast and their laughter fills the spa ce. I had to shorten my show to keep the time limit. Sarah later told me that soon after I started, Michelle was on her phone calling the other American staff, saying “Get over here, this guy is really good” When my time was up, she gave me a little nod to keep going.

After the show as we were leaving Sarah took my oreo picture, me between Manno and Francine.

Sarah and I take a taptap back by ourselves, whizzing through the busy Jacmel midday traffic.

The schedule for the other group was to come back to the hotel and then go to a couple of tent cities. I was so very excited to go along with them and perform. Turned out that they were delayed by a flat tire, and then by the time they had returned, I had given up and decided to go out on the street. We headed up toward the hospital and I was recognized by a couple of young boys who beckoned me over to them and that was all I needed. Another great time was had by close to 100 people by the end. A man asks Sarah what I was going to give the children. Candy, a toy, a gift? He was surprised that laughter was all they would get.

When we got back to the hotel, the group was there and told of their adventures, they spoke of feeling uncomfortable in the tent cities. I wish I had been there, it would have certainly been a different experience.

We join them to go back to the church for a service and dinner. As we arrive singing fills the air, they sing with such passion and enthusiasm. At the end the group hands out little LED flashlights to the children, it’s like fireflies as they run around with their new toys. The batteries run out quickly for some.
A short lived treat. I'd like to think that my treat lasts a little longer. We have a delicious meal and by the end everyone is exhausted from another full day.

Sidestream

Another amazing day in Haiti. We went off to the church in the am with the group, work continues on the building. Food continues to be prepared. Children continue to play. It took a bit of doing on my part, but I did arrange to meet Nancy and Lee and Andre at the hotel at 11 to go play on the street. As we were about to leave, a man with a guitar started to play. A few gathered and sang along. Next a boy appeared with two plastic bottles with a few rocks in them to add some percussion. Then a young boy with a glass bottle and a rock, then a teen with a tin can and a stick, finally one of the workers joined in on the cap to a propane tank and a stone. What a beautiful sond they made as we drove away.

We arrived at the hotel just moments before they did. We chatted briefly and I decided to go to the closest tent city, the one just up the hill across the street, next to the funeral home, where I had performed two months ago. It was a time of day when I usually don’t work because of the heat, and I also think there might not be people around, but it was the time we had arranged, so off we went. As we neared the site, I saw four children playing under a tree. I thought, Perfect! That’s enough to start. As I came into view, a middle aged woman saw me, shouted something out, next thing I know, she has brought her chair along and sets it down right in front of me. She had remembered me from before and didn’t want to miss a thing.. And have a good seat to view it all from!!So now there were about 15. A crowd gathered quickly, probably 75 strong by the end. All ages were present, several motorbikes stopped to see the action. An old man stood and joined in. It was a great reappearance for me. I was curious how it would go at a place where I had already been. It couldn’t have gone better. I premiered my concertina. They loved it. And when I started to play the national anthem, by the second phrase they were all singing along. Perfect.

Nancy was very impressed and promised to send me her pictures as well as her son’s. She also had some ideas of how to go other places in the world. Amazing how it all turned out from sitting and drinking a beer yesterday.

Sarah and I went back to the hotel to rest a bit. Caleb and Caleb would meet us at 1;30, so after a short lie down, we headed out to get something to eat. We ended up with a huge plate of maiz moulet, a yummy mixture of ground corn and beans, spiced with pepper. We sat behind a curtain blowing in the wind behind the beautiful plump woman who had so lovingly prepared the food. Very cool.

Caleb was just a little late because he had lent his bike to someone. Not a problem, we were on his schedule. The three of us got on his bike and off we went. It was only a little disconcerting en route when he shout5ed over shoulder that he had never ridden a bike before he came to Haiti. And here he was with both of us on a bike navigating through the potholes, through the traffic and pedestrians. We arrived safely to see 60 kids sitting on benches under a tent patiently awaiting our arrival. As we got off the bike, they broke into a song in Engliish, “We welcome you, we welcome you, we welcome you today.” Sweet or what. We had a brief tour of Caleb’s house, a cinder block structure that was damaged in the quake. They have done some repairs but are still afraid to sleep inside at night. Several tents fill the back yard.

As we came back into the front yard, the children broke into song again. We sat in chairs facing them as Caleb introduced Sarah and I.

I had so much performing for this group. Definitely off the beaten path. I feel that the kids at the church program get so much input from all the groups that visit here almost every week. These kids are definitely off that track. So it felt so good to bring my work to them. They were so responsive and appreciative, and they too joined in loudly for the national anthem.

They sang some more, recited poetry, and gort a lesson from the Haitian Caleb. We then helped serve up their lunch, a healthy plate of rice and beans that they held on their laps patiently until everyone had been served, and grace said.

Another ride on the bike and we're back at the hotel. Sarah and I walk up the street and sit on an elevated porch having a beer, watching the traffic pass by and another day come to a close. Today felt so good to perform at the places off the mainstream. These are the ones that really feel good.

Komeek

We spent another day at the church. It was Flag Day, so as we arrived all the older children were assembling to go to the beach for the day to celebrate. It was sad to see them all go off. But there was a few younger ones around, so I started to assemble some more juggling sacks with them. They called me "Komeek." At first I didn't get it, but then realized it must be Creole for clown, ala "comique!"

The day passed quickly, the walls growing in the church block by block.

Sarah spent much of the day working in the kitchen, which means sitting around under this beautiful tree cutting, grinding, cleaning and stirring.

After the feeding program was over, I saw a young boy in the early stages of making a kite. I grabbed the camera and was recording this beautiful creation in front of my eyes.

He paid such attention to the details, constantly laying it on the ground then making minute adjustments to the bamboo structure. I gave him a plastic Staples bag that was in my backpack. He adeptly attached it too the frame. It was growing to completion.

I was stunned when he handed it to me and said cadeau, a gift. Tears welled in my eyes. He had no idea how much this meant to me, how much the kite has symbolized so much of the healing spirit of Haiti. Other children came to add a tail and some string. I went and got a large balls of string that I had been giving out to the children earlier to play string games. The kite was soaring away overhead, so beautiful. It was time to go, so I reeled it in. I snapped the string off near the kite and gifted the boy the rest of the spool of blue string.

When we returned to the hotel Sarah and I took a short rest.We had decided to fend for ourselves for dinner and not return to the church with the others. We heard a marching band coming up the street and went out to see what was happening. It was Flag Day in Haiti, and this was part of the celebration. It felt like carnival, tons of people, young students in brightly colored costumes dancing in the street with lots of people looking on. Certainly the biggest crowd of people I have seen so far. We continued on, coming across another band of revelers dancing into the distance. We passed by the market, now closing up for the day. It's amazing the amount of material that gets moved around everyday, either carried, wheeled or put on the back of a motorbike.

We went down to the sea and had a beer from the same place we had before. I love flirting with the waitress. She started it!! While we were there, a couple of white people came in and sat next to us. They were speaking English, so we struck up a conversation. She was a photojournalist traveling with her 19 year old son. She was fascinated with my reason for being in Haiti and wondered if she could come tomorrow and photograph a performance. I take her card. What a chance meeting.

Rain had started to fall as we headed back toward the hotel. It was dark by now and we heard another group dancing toward us. Horns hooted away as they danced into the dark.

We found a very small restaurant for dinner. We were the only people there, occupying one of the three tables. The rain pelted down outside. We ate goat and chicken, both delicious, and listened to the rain and the waitress who stood outside and sang softly to herself. She came in, moved one of the tables and placed a bucket on the floor. Soon the water started dripping from the tarp that formed the ceiling. She had known exactly where to put it!!

We scampered the short distance back to the hotel in the rain that continued to fall. Soon after we got back, we heard another group approaching. From our vantage point on the hotel balcony, it was clearer to see what they were playing. The horns made of tin, some brightly painted, were of several different sizes, ranging from a couple of feet up to almost six. They each would play a different note. They played a very complex melody, ala a bell choir, each instrument playing their note in the right place and rhythm to create a hauntingly beautiful sound. The rain continued to fall as they danced and played away. A young Haitian man called Caleb was on the balcony with us. He said that these people were not celebrating, but protesting. They were from the large tent city that suffers so much when it rains, the water stands a foot deep in some places. So every time it rains, they take to the streets. They were on their way to the mayor's house. I have seen their camp after it rains, they have every right and reason to protest.

Caleb runs a leadership and feeding program with a young American also called Caleb for about 60 kids twice a week. He asks if I could come tomorrow and perform. I accept.