friends and sunsets

Saturday-Monday, April 24-26, 2010

The teams left Saturday morning. Mike rode into Port-au-Prince with them and then met Nicole at the airport as she arrived back in country. The children and I prepared for her return by cleaning up, making welcome home gifts, and making cookies. Having her back and with the good news of her health was encouraging. We all enjoyed one another's company. We made pizza for dinner (thank you team for bringing pepperoni and cheese). I took a walk before dinner but were not able to see the new neighbors who I had met the previous afternoon. There are 3 men and 1 woman representing an organization called SASH now renting the land and house on the other side of the swamp land lining our fence. One of them is an American, and the other 3 are English. The children on the beach informed me they had gone into Leogane and wouldn't be back until 6pm. I walked and talked with the youth instead. I am finding my ability to engage in conversation and to express ideas increasing. It's encouraging, especially when I am talking with a new person and still able to comprehend. Those I speak with regularly are easier to understand because they are able to change sentences to include words I know if they find I am confused. And yet I am being to understand more and more.

Sunday I did manage to speak with the neighbors for some time, although not intentionally. I went for a walk as usual and saw some of the teen girls with whom I have been regularly speaking. After talking for some time, they decided to walk back to the compound with me. As we neared the neighbor's property, the girls began to share about an accident there earlier in the day. The neighbors had run razorwire along the edge of their fence for an added level of security. When I passed it initially, I was laughing to myself because it is not high and probably isn't much of a deterrent. Apparently my thought wasn't too far off base. A Haitian had thought the same thing and yet in proving his point by jumping over the fence he managed he catch his foot on the wire and sliced it open. As the girls finished telling me about all the blood, we watched some of the younger children proceed to jump over the fence and join in a soccer game.

Melanie, the woman, saw me and approached me to invite us in through the gate. I explained that I had just wanted to say hi and then translated the invitation for the girls with me. They would not enter without me. So the next thing I knew, I was walking and talking with Melanie. It was nice to have a conversation in English and share some of observations about the community and universal truths about children. Melanie provided more details about the man with the cut foot. He was ok, but he needed over 30 stitches at the local hospital. I guess the children had not been exaggerating when they said there had been anpil, anpil blood (a lot, a lot).

Although many children I knew would say hi and briefly wanted to interact with me, there seems to be a cultural piece at play that they are not to interrupt two blans in conversation. I have noticed that even if I am in conversation with them, if a blan approaches they will stand quietly and wait until the blan is finished addressing me AND I re-engage with them. This time when a couple of the children approached too frequently, some of the older children began yelling at them and telling them to stop bothering me. I do not understand these interactions fully, but they stick out in my mind.

As I walked home, I was treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Monday night during my conversation on the beach with Haitians, I finally learned the Kreyol phrase for sunset, soley kouche which literally translates as sun lies down. The colors were spectacular: oranges, pinks, purples, teals, greens, and blues of the most vivid shades I could begin to imagine. I did not have my camera either evening, but the sky can change so much so quickly that I decided to enjoy the show for what it was. I have the mental images only, but they are so special.