Porch chatter

Verrettes, Haiti

February 27, 2011

It’s funny what you get used to. I’m drinking a very sweet coffee-like drink today, that Sano prepares for us every day. Despite waking up at 6 or 6:30 every morning, I never seem to be early enough to see him prepare the coffee, so I’m not sure what it is.

Yesterday, after another stint of e-mail (a short stint, because Jean Baptiste was waiting for me), we stopped at the gas station to get fuel, since we were completely out. We were second in line, and the guy at the pump said the pump wasn’t working, and he disappeared into the store. We stayed put (I’m never sure what is happening- I thought at that point we would leave and go find another source of fuel, since people sell fuel in front of their house), but however, we stayed…and more and more motorcycles came be to get fuel as well, in addition to a van. Pretty soon there were at least 15 motos there, all pointed in different directions, all converging on the pump. As I said, we were second in line. The gas attendant returned, and filled the guy in front of us, who was now completely surrounded by other bikes, and unable to leave. Someone who had arrived long after us had nosed his way in front of us, and was insisting on being served first, but he didn’t quite get his way. At this point, there’s all kinds of yelling and carrying on, and after a couple more people were served, we got our gas. However, then we had the same problem of being blocked in all directions to leave, and no one was budging to help us. Of course, too late I realised that would have been a terrific photo, but it was so hectic I wasn’t sure if it would have been a good  idea.

OK, this photo can't relay the motorcycle scene, but it can still give an idea of the craziness of traffic...I still haven't managed to capture a photo that truly encapsulates the craziness, but in this photo, we're passing traffic on this narrow road, while that tap tap is about to pull out ahead of us- but in this case, there isn't any oncoming traffic to compound the risk. You definitely hope that your driver has their wits about them!

Once we got home, Jean Baptiste brought the motorcycle into the courtyard, and closed the gate, so I knew we were in for the night. He was complaining of the heat inside this cement block house we’re living in, but it was fresher outside, so I suggested we sit outside, which we did- and it was cooler, indeed. We didn’t have any electricity, as their 30 watt panel just isn’t up to snuff- it can charge either a phone or a computer, but not both at the same time. Of course, the problem might be that the car battery isn’t quite sufficient. So we sat in the dark and talked, as so many people do here.

(as an aside: There is a generator sitting here at the house that needs servicing, and likewise, there’s a small Honda generator out in Deslandes that is missing a little ring on a valve- they’ve been ‘talking’ about fixing this for 6 months now. Jim from Tierra y Cal is coming at the end of March to use the new block making machine with the crew, and he absolutely needs a generator in working order, so one of my jobs while here is to nag and push people along to actually get a few things done.)

When we were sitting out on the porch last night, one of the topics that came up was vodoo ceremonies. I was reading a book on Haitian Voodouism before coming here, but didn’t finish it, and it seemed to bulky to bring. Jean Baptiste explained that there are different ceremonies for different spirits, and the madou (woman priest) or  organise ceremonies depending on the different times of year. One big ceremony in particular is called Guedé, and it occurs Nov. 1-3 every year. He said in some cities, the ceremonies take over the streets! The participants dress up, with lots of make-up and perfume. Some wear all black, some all white, some black and white, while still others wear mauve. The parade down the streets, dancing, singing, and drumming. (I have heard the drumming from my bed in Deslandes). At this ceremony, the manbo carries a ‘bak’ (wooden carved out bowl, or container) that is filled with food and offerings to the spirit Guedé,and they go to the river. When the spirit of Guedé enters someone (and it apparently often enters several people, but usually on this occasion, not the mambou, as she has to make sure that everything goes well), that person takes the bak and puts it into the river. He said it’s an amazing thing- it floats for a bit of time, and then when the spirit leaves the person, the bak suddenly floats. He has seen it several times. He mentioned that his grandmother is quite a wise woman, and could have been a really amazing mambou, but she didn’t want to. She has had spirits visit her, and is quite well known in that world. When she was younger, she had a spirit visit her in a dream, who told her she had to help with a childbirth. She said she had no idea what to do, and suddenly, in the dream, she saw herself preparing items that she needed, being competent, and she delivered that baby in her sleep. Ever since, she has been working  at the hospital as a very respected midwife, and also she is a caretaker at the hospital.

And so it seems that voodoism is still strong in this country. Jean Baptiste doesn’t practise, but he certainly believes. He mentioned that Ospri said he will take me to a ceremony when he returns to Deslandes- as long as my presence would be welcome by the participants, I would be delighted to go to one.

And so ended our quiet night on the porch- no beer, no music, no light…just interesting, animated conversation. And that, my friends, is how many many a night is spent in Haiti. It was exactly what I was craving.

I’m sitting here now waiting for Jean Baptiste to get back, and I can hear through the cinderblock fence, a man next door singing. You often hear people singing as they are working- beautiful melodies.