Sunday church

I was up early, out for my morning cafe and looking for my cafe lady who asked for the size 8 shoes. I have the shoes, but now she is not to be found. In her spot is a young girl, maybe 12, who now seems to run the show. I will keep trying to find her. I buy a beautiful avocado, and when I come into the hotel, one of the workers asked me to follow him. He took me to his room where he presented me with another avocado!! Delicious.

An early start today at 7:15 to go up to Morne Oge for breakfast at 7:30. The childrens' service at the church starts at 8. I quickly eat and head for the church, where already the children are arriving, dress to the nines, no, tens. Neatly braided hair adorned with beads of all colors, ribbons and barrettes. The boys look smart in their long pants and button shirts. A steady stream is coming from all directions. As they arrive, they are ushered into the benches, packing them in. by the time the service starts, there is no more room. I had sat way in the back, but had to give up my seat, there was not another space to be had anywhere. There were probably 200 children. They were led in song by two young girls on microphones, Fedony on electric piano and after a while a drummer joined in. At one point we were all called to the front. I introduced "the team" and then did a short performance that went very well. I hadn't done a performance here since my first visit in March, though I have spent quite a bit of time here playing with the children. by 9:15 it was over, with the adult service to start at 9:30. The exchange of all those bodies was quite a sight, for there was a churchful of adults waiting to get in as the children came out. I spent the next three hours playing with the children, teaching rope tricks to a couple of the boys, and juggling with many of the children. There was lots of singing, we were again introduced, Robin was well received when he spoke in French to them.

As the service wore on, many of the tiny children were brought out, it was very hot in there, and in spite of the sachets of water that were delivered many times, it was very hot. Amazing how just when I am feeling in need of water, two women appear carrying a basket ful of ice cold water sachets!

I went over to the kitchen and helped wash the mountain of dishes that were there. It was very pleasant in the shade of the tree and the gentle wind blowing. I rinsed the dishes in a large pan of water and stacked them in plastic laundry baskets to dry.

A large truckload of water was delivered. It was the first time that the cistern was being filled, so it was very exciting. It was a large tanker of water, and containers of every size appeared to hold and carry this precious commodity. The large green snakelike hose spewed out the fresh water into every waiting receptacle.

Finally the service was over, LaFleur had delivered a scorching sermon to the packed crowd. They had built this church because the other was too small. And now already this one is bursting at the seams.

After lunch, we came back to the hotel to rest, the midday heat having taken its toll. We we out for a walk later, stopped at a shop to look at some paintings and there was a little boy, maybe 18 months old, in the care of his grandmother. She called a neighbor to hold him while she dusted off the goods for us to see. I put my arms out to him and he reached up to me. He was such a little cherub, by the time I gave him back he was giggling away from the little game of "dive bombing him" back toward his caretaker's arms.

We had a wonderful meal tonight. I suggested we move the tables out from the covered area out onto the open deck under the stars and the nearly full moon. It was idyllic. I invited our servers to join us at the table. Usually they eat after us and keep their distance. They shyly joined us. We learned that it was three generations who had brought us the food. Grandmother, mother and young girl. It was so nice to have them eating with us. We are all one, and we are in this world together.

Papa Noel

I got up early, went out on the balcony and who do I see across the street but Vladi! It was so nice to be greeted on my first morning here by a friend. He and I went down the street to find an avocado and bananas for Kelsey, since she didn't have any dinner.

When I got back, Kels and Shaun wanted coffee, so we went out again, this time carrying the size 8 shoes that my cafe lady had requested. She wasn't there, probably her daughter was there instead, we sipped the hot sweet cafe with the anise flavored milk.

When we got back we met with LaFleur to hear what he had planned for our day.

We would go to Morne Oge for breakfast and then he had organized for the children to come at 10 to do this drawing project for Robin and Camilla. He had invited a few, he said; as the time arrived, there were a few. Many called out Roget when they saw me. What a warm reception I was given.

A young boy mimed my actions of juggling. Another took a rope that I had and DID one of my tricks!! I taught him more. What a quick learner he was.

The drawing project went very well. By the end, there was not a space left at any of the tables, they drew on the benches, hunched over their papers. i found a couple of young girls with tears trickling down their cheeks. They had been asked to draw about the day of the earthquake. It would not have been my choice to ask them to revisit that day, but it is not my project. I continue my work outside.

It was amazing what they did produce though. The older the children were, the more graphic the images were. The ages ranged from 4 to 22. Some of the older boys were busy the whole time, using rulers to draw wonderful representations of their homes.

After lunch we rode back to the hotel for a rest. We then took a walk through the market. I juggled long sticks of soap. One of the market streets is filled with rubble, yet the selling goes on, next to and on top of the jagged bits of concrete and stone.

In several places, I nearly lose my way because the buildings are gone. Where there once was a heavily damaged building is now an empty space, completely gone. Progress continues at its Haitian pace. There are piles of cement blocks, gravel and sand in many places, waiting to be formed into a new building.

Shaun had commented on how he would love to see how they make their rope here; as we wandered toward the beach, I saw a man making rope!! We watched his hands twisting and turning the strands into a beautiful two strand rope. A huge ball of it lay at his feet, easily over 100 feet. Seeing us standing there, an artist who was on his way home for the day, set his paintings down at our feet along the curb. Robin and Camilla bought a beauty.

As we stood there, a man came down the street with two white men. He recognized me and came and gave me a big hug. I recognized him from Pinchinant, the tent city I visited in March. I have picture of his family. He told me in words and actions of how I had entertained the children, and that they refer to me as Papa Noel.

He joined us on the beach for a drink. He spoke very eloquently of his plight in the tent city, caring for his children and dealing with the daily challenge. His English is very good yet he would lapse into French often. Robin continued the conversation then.

It was getting late, so I arranged for moto taxis to take us back to the hotel. Certainly a real Haitian experience not to be missed.

A wonderful soup made of banana, plaintain and cinnamon awaited us. It was a very comforting way to end our first day here.

hey you

As the plane taxied toward the runway, the captain came on and announced that there was a technical problem and they were working on it. Yikes. We sat for about 45 minutes on the tarmac, he came back on and said that they had solved it. It seemed to be a routing issue, not equipment. So we were nearly 1 hour late in departing. Flight time was 3hours, 39 minutes. Amazing how close Haiti is to JFK. I'm not really sure how it happended with leaving so late, but we arrived 10 minutes early!! he must have taken a shortcut.

Kelsey and Shaun were there waiting for us in the hot baggage claim area, fans move the hot air around us. We finally got all of our bags and head out into the gauntlet of porters. I was looking for a familiar face, but saw none. I left the others with the moountain of bags and ventured out with one porter who said he would help me find my driver. I didn't remeber that it was such a long walk but as we moved along insude the fenced area, a one armed man came toward me calling "Roget." I didn't recognize him, but he seemed to know me. He said that my driver had sent him. I trusted him, how else would he have known my name. He also knew the name of the white woman, Julie, who I had read about in one of LaFleur's posts. So, we went back to gather the others and the bags. It all sent quite smoothly, except when we got out of the fencexd area, the driver was nowhere to be scene. I didn't have a phone number with me, so Jackson, the one-armed man, assured me that he had probably gone to get food and would be back soon. We had little choice but to wait. Robin struck up conversation with an elderly porter in French. Jackson was perturbed, saying that the man was trying to get our money.

After about ten minutes, I saw a familiar face, it was Jean Marie, one of the young men from the church with a white woman. They said that they had been waiting for us and didn't see us come out.

We loaded our gear into the van, and started our trip to Jacmel. The roads getting out of Port au Prince are still in horrible shape, traffic is heavy and the road is extremely rough, yet passable. It is good that we are going slow though, it is a good way to see all there is to see. The trip went quite well, arriving in Jacmel just before 5. It did seem a lot longer that the 2 1/2 hours largely because of the massive amount of visual stimulation.

At one point, somewhere up in the mountains, the driver stopped to go to the bathroom. As he disappeared into someone's yard, toilet paper roll in hand, we all decided to get out and stretch our legs. I wandered up a path and saw a group of boys playing soccer with what passed as a ball. I knew that

Robin and Camilla had brought new soccer balls to give away, and I thought this was a perfect opportunity. here we were way out in the country, pretty sure that these people were not on anyone's radar for help. I went back to the van, proposed the idea, pulled out the ball, and took the needle out of my pocket that 12 hours earlier I had used to deflate the ball. I blew it up as best as I could with lungs alone, and we all headed back up the hill to pass it on. Robin was very chatty with the boys, encouraging them to make sure that it was properly inflated. What a sight to see, their old thread bare dusty ball next to the new shiny red one. Within seconds, it was on the ground and the game continued. As we turned to go back to the van, one of the boys yelled out, "hey, you!" We turned and saw them all waving to us shouting "Merci."

Our arrival in Jacmel was so wonderful. We were greeted warmly by the staff and LaFleur. After the rooms had been sorted out, I went and got cold beers for everyone, a 7 up for Camilla. She was amazed at how big the bottle was. As we drank, a procession of food arrived, we went up on the roof and had a yummy stew, unfortunately, it had meat in it, and Kelsey didn't eat. She said she wasn't all that hungry. By the time we had finished eating it was dark, yet just 7 o'clock. We were all very tired, so all turned in, getting a good night's rest before our early start tomorrow. LaFleur wants to meet us at 7:30!

Troisieme fois

Sitting in JFK, waiting to board my flight that will take me back to Ayiti for my third trip since my first time in MARCH. The waiting area is full of Haitians, I see only three other Blancs. I’m not sure if that is good or bad. Is Haiti being forgotten?
I love seeing the faces of Haiti again and hearing snippets of Kreyol. I am ready to roll. Kelsey and Shaun flew out of LaGuardia at 0600 and will be waiting for us in Port au Prince when we arrive.

blog search

A friend was here over the weekend, and came up with this little gem!

Kudos to Roger the Jester

Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

We just returned from the 30th Old Songs Festival of music and dance, held in Altamont, NY. Among the performers, there is a clown called "Roger the Jester". He is one of the few who return every single year. In his act, he is mute, never saying anything. But this time, they presented him with a special thanks, one which required him to speak.

It seems he has gone to Haiti twice recently to help the earthquake victims in the only way he knows how, as a clown. As he said, there are seven things that everyone needs in order to exist. Most we know: food, water, shelter, freedom from oppression... But the last was "play" and that is why he was there, to allow them to have some fun for the first time in so many months. Before he was done with the brief things he had to say, Roger was openly bawling at the thought of the terrible conditions those poor folks have to endure and their grateful reaction to him for bringing some minutes of fun to their lives. And so were the 500 people in the audience, including me.

People who give of themselves in ways such as this are unsung heroes in this world. Nothing dramatic or earthshattering, barely newsworthy, but they are out there helping in the ways they can, one on one, doing something meaningful without expectation of any reward other than having done what they could when it was most needed.

I am adding Roger the Jester as one of my MySpace heros, as a representative of the many people who, when it's needed, cut through the crap and just DO what needs to be done.

photo from Ben Kregel

more great photographs from Ben at

http://picasaweb.google.com/ben.kregel/HaitiReliefMay2010#

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.