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.