Tet Kale

Tet Kale is perhaps THE most popular presidential candidate in Haiti.  His real name is Mickey Martelly. He was once a professional singer and the youth of this country are rallying behind him! (Convinced that as an outsider to politics he will be different) Throughout the entire campaign a hairless Mickey has been referred to simply as “Tet Kale.”  Directly translated – “Bald Head” – After several weeks of being surrounded by Tet Kale propaganda I was sold. Not so much on his qualifications to be the president of Haiti, but more sold on the fact that he has be most genius campaign slogan of all time. Bald Head.

Starting today, Saturday November 27th, the day prior to elections no one is allowed to drive their cars or motorcycles.  Actually, people are encouraged to not leave their homes at all.  Next week after elections, if the coast is clear, everyone can once again emerge.  However, there is always a chance that violence will escalate after Election Day banning everyone to their homes for days or even weeks.

Last night, the Friday before Sunday’s elections, my regular crew (Bail and Ajax) and I decided to venture out for dinner since it might be our last opportunity to do so for some time. 

Ajax decided upon a pizza place not too far from our house.  We arrived and to my surprise it was the nicest, cleanest, most established restaurant I had visited since arriving in Haiti. I felt as if I were on vacation.  I couldn’t believe I was just being introduced to this hidden gem.  Beautiful patio furniture, attractive potted plants, outdoor speakers for music, wine glasses on the table, laminated menus!  On top of that, all the other patrons of the restaurant were Blans (foreigners) too!  One was a group of French relief workers and at the other table sat a Cuban couple.  It was all so unexpected. I was giddy with excitement!

We ordered our pizza and sipped our drinks. Relishing in the lovely change of scenery.

Then, not 15 minutes into our dining experience, a tinted windowed SUV whipped around the corner.  Hanging on the sides were two men with guns.  I felt my heart skip a beat. (drive by shooting?? Surely not.) I took note of those around me. Their calm(ish) demeanor put me a little more at ease.  The vehicle came to a halt only feet from our table.  The men with guns hopped off and the doors flung open.  Inside the SUV was presidential candidate Tet Kale.  He appeared to be injured.  The men were panicked and heated.  Some were tending to Tet Kale inside the car while the others paced with guns in hand.  We all stared with wide eyes.  Ajax filled his wine glass with 7up and I took this to mean we were be staying to watch the show.  This would not ultimately be the case.

Moments later 2 more pick up trucks raced around the corner skidding to a stop.  Each held 15 or 20 men crammed in the truck beds.  All gripping handguns.  Ajax and Bail flew from their seats.  It was clear the situation had just gotten a lot more serious. I followed suit. Bail frantically ordered “On alle” – translation, “Lets get the hell out of here!”  Everyone in the restaurant raced into the kitchen.    Money was being thrown at the waitress.  Voices were tense. The waitress trembled as she made quick change.  Heart racing, I clinched the pizza box. Ajax instructed Bail and I to wait close to the building.  He would roll by allowing us to jump in for a fast get away.  The only problem…our car was blocked by the truck loads of angry gunmen.  Clearly frightened Ajax forced his fragile car over a concrete blockade to escape the dangerous cluster.  As the car passed over the barrier, the muffler was ripped from below.  As I darted for our car, I grabbed the rusty muffler from the ground, tossed it into the back seat with the pizza and off we raced.  Our engine roared without its muffler as we sped down the dark road. 

Once we were a safe distance from the political rumble, though still shaking, we breathed a sigh of relief.  “Hey at least we’ve got our Pizza.”

Something Good Can Work (Ted & Francis Remix) by user2355813

by: Two Door Cinema Club

Cyclone Tomas

About the time hurricane Tomas rolled into Les Cayes, the electricity went out, and my fever went up, I started having trouble remembering why exactly I was here.

The weekend prior had been pretty close to perfect.  The beach, English-speaking friends, and dancing.  Then with the departure of my friends and boss (to a conference in Miami) I found myself abruptly isolated.  In any other circumstance, my busy routine would have provided a sufficient distraction from this lull, but the torrential rains and brutal winds of Tomas forbid my students to leave their homes.  As a result of no school, very limited means of communication, a runny nose, and a bad cold preventing me from doing my daily yoga practice, I was left feeling pretty down and out. 

My frustration with the overall situation perhaps also heightened my paranoia that I was being perpetually mocked for my butchered kreyol skills.  Even my long benadryl induced naps left me feeling unsatisfied. 

However, two days into my irritable state, my memory was jogged. 

Join on the front porch by the two women I live with (and also despise for at least a few seconds everyday as they blatantly snicker behind my back) I battled the winds of Tomas with my hula-hoop.  The air was almost chilly and the only light we had came from a candle and my laptop screen.  Bial washed clothes in the wash bucket, Gracious rocked in the rocking chair, and I danced away to one of Kanye’s latest.  As the wind blew the rain sideways so that it misted us underneath the covered porch, it hit me, this was exactly why I was in Haiti.

Runaway (feat. Pusha T) by user2355813
Kanye

Battle of the Bugs

I’m not really into killing.  I mean, I don’t know many vegans that are…But, ever since I made the executive decision to stop my malaria medication (much to the chagrin of my family) I have been on a personal mission to crush each and every mosquito that crosses my path.  The only problem is, they are fast.  Fast like flies.  The mosquitoes in Mississippi are perhaps abnormally lethargic but I have never had trouble with this task in the past.

Our bathroom, conveniently, is quite the breeding ground for these monsters.  I find this especially unpleasant as I am bathing (aka pouring cups of water on myself) – and trying to simultaneously swat them away.  I am constantly amazed, in the most annoying way possible, by there speed.

Another battle I’ve been fighting in that very bathroom is with a ridiculously sneaky spider.  As some of you might remember, during my first week in Haiti I came in contact with the BIGGEST black widow, brown recluse hybrid to ever exist.  Fortunately this most current enemy of mine is A Lot smaller than that original guy. Regardless, he is equally as evasive.  On our first meeting – he was spotted on the toilet seat, I made a few weak attempts to brush him into the water, but again, these Haitian insects are FAST! On our 2^nd meeting – he was spotted right around the base of the toilet, This time I got smart and trapped him under a plunger.  I left him under there to die of “natural causes”…Two days later, the plunger remained suctioned to ground, untouched, and I assumed it was still entombing the spider.  It wasn’t.  I spotted him again, at the base of the toilet.  The plunger being really the only option I gave it another shot, but this time he got smart and made a run for it up the wall.  He lucked out.  – Today, our most recent meeting, he was spotted right outside the bathroom door. His willingness to explore outside the safety of his toilet bowl region tells me one thing…he is getting a little to big for his britches and something MUST be done.  I did my best sandwich the little guy between my shoe and the ground, but he seized my hesitation as his opportunity to escape yet again.

This nemesis of mine, and his little malaria transmitting friends, may have lived to see another day…but this fight is not over I tell you.  It will never be over. 

Lost In Translation

I believe that by comparing the language cassette tapes used to teach English 1 and Kreyol 1 a very good point can be made. – and while I’m not exactly sure what this point is… I do know that it’s quite obvious which educational recording is more entertaining.

English 1

Track 1:

Male: “Good Morning.”

Female: “Hi”

Male: “I’m Pablo. What’s your name?”

Female: “My name’s Frida.”

Male: “Nice to meet you.”

Female: “Nice to meet you too.”

Kreyol 1

Track 1:

Male: “Hi, what’s your name?”

Female: “My name is Marie.”

Male: “And I’m Jean. Where do you live Marie?”

Female: “I live near here…”

Male: “What does ‘near here’ mean exactly??”

Female: “It means I’m not going to tell you where I live.”

Male: “Ohhhhh – Marie, why are you being rude to me?”

Female: “Bye-Bye!”

Duh.

…Now to address the posted picture.

Several of my more fashionable students have been donning these really beautifully gaudy bling bling rings.  When one caught my eye a few weeks ago, I KNEW it was a must have! Seeing as how these girls were in my English 1 class, finding out where they acquired their jewels was next to impossible. (their vocabulary is still a little limited)  Finally, we bridged the communication gap, and I forked over 50 goudes ($1.50 US).  The girl promised to return with my ring!

Return she did, but the ring she delivered in NO WAY resembled the rings I had been admiring!! (My ring is pictured above.) What I had wanted was a beautifully gaudy bling bling ring, but what I had gotten was a hideously tacky piece of junk…or so my initial reaction told me.  But after fake smiling and slipping the purple hunk of glittery metal on my finger, it started to grow on me.  By the end of the day, I loved my stupid ring!

Finally, this next song I CANNOT get enough of…talk about a good addition to my hula hooping sound track! – Thanks Granny!

The Show Goes On by user2355813

by: Lupe Fiasco

Front Roll Guy

Yesterday, November 1^st – the day of the dead, was a national Haitian holiday.  This so marvelously afforded me an extra long weekend – with no school, Monday or Tuesday!

To assist in the celebration and attempting to wake the dead, my friend Angela rolled into town with quite the crew.  After squeezing in one last work session Sunday evening, Angela and I washed away the day’s dust and got ready to hit the Bay Club. 

Being dropped off at the bar by Ajax (our boss/the man I live with) was definitely more funny than awkward; however actually walking into the Haitian club searching for our friends was the reverse. Luckily our friends quickly spotted the two blans roaming around aimlessly and waved us over.

An evening of Barbancourt rum and dancing ensued.  In Haiti, practicality always comes first. So in the spirit of practicality when at a bar or restaurant the rum is always ordered, not by the glass, but by the bottle, half bottle, or ¼ of a bottle.  For this particular occasion, a whole bottle was definitely in order. A nice balance of Kreyonglais was the icing on the cake enabling everyone’s humor to translate perfectly. The shenanigans began.

The night ended with us all crammed into the nicest whip I’ve been in for months – a shiny new truck with air conditioning and flawless interior.  Music bumping, I felt for a moment I was back at Sewanee cruzing down university avenue. 

The next morning we arose at 9am to keep the fête alive! With swimsuits and hula hoops in tote we set out to meet our gang at the most beautiful beach around…Port Salut.  – We had promised Ajax we would hop a Tap Tap (truck bed taxi) the least dangerous of all the incredibly dangerous methods of transportation.  But shortly upon leaving the house we were met with an offer we couldn’t refuse.  A mototaxi driver offered to take us the entire way for 50 goudes each ($1.50 US).  Speeding down the street, weaving in and out of traffic, we wondered…why everyone was starring at us?? Two white girls on the back of a motorcycle holding hula hoops – what’s weird about that? Then, low and behold, who do we pass on our wild ride? But Ajax, of course.  We gave a smile and wave and knew we would certainly be receiving a lecture that evening.

As we chatted away, the driver eventually turned to us and asked if we were aware that we had long since passed our destination.  He had continued driving, assuming we would inform him of where exactly we needed to be dropped off.  Fortunately our friends were just shortly behind, and they were able to rescue us from being stranded.  In the meantime we found a cozy spot on the side of the road with some vegetable vendors.  We told the kind ladies our story of passing our intended stop and they laughed pulling up stools for us.  Soon our ride arrived and we kissed the friendly women goodbye.

Once again squeezed in the truck with good tunes, we agreed what a good day it would be even if we did nothing else but ride.

Alas, the brief road trip came to an end at the beautiful waters of the Caribbean Sea.  A beach vendor brought a table and chairs to our shady spot in the sand where our truck was still cranking out music, the leader of our group ordered a bottle of barbancourt, and there we had it, the perfect day.

In between swimming, hula hooping and lounging a stumbling man covered in sand paid us a visit.  His blank blood shot eyes revealed that he was taking his day of the dead celebration very very seriously!  He simply held out his empty sprite bottle for bit of our rum. To show his appreciation he placed the bottle on the ground and proceeded to do a pretty dramatic front roll in the sand.  He walked away without a word, but periodically throughout the day I was caught a glimpse of him on the beach doing front rolls.  Hundreds of them…

Sadly the day could not go on forever so eventually we headed to the house of one of our friends.  His mother had been expecting us and prepared an absolutely huge and amazing dinner!

And though our beach day ultimately ended at the office, putting in a couple hours of work before bed, the two day GHEDE celebration made it all worth while!

Thank you Ghede.

And Thank you Mister Kingston.

Letting Go (Dutty Love) [feat. Nicki Minaj] by user2355813

by: Sean Kingston