Saturday 6/22/13

We got up this morning and headed out with some new Haitian friends Sc., M., and another one of their friends to a YMCA in Port-au-Prince to attend a hip hop dance class.  This was one of those “why wouldn’t I” moments where life is so bizarre that you just have to go with it.  Why wouldn’t I spend a Saturday morning in Haiti dancing with 12-year-old girls?  C., L., and I were the only blans, so we definitely attracted an audience as we learned our new dance moves.  Another highlight was watching the annoyed looks from everyone on the crowded taptaps as the boys sang American pop and Christian praise songs all the way down the mountain to Port-au-Prince.

            On the way back from the dance class, we stopped at a couple of small grocery stores (this is the first and much-needed groceries stop-a girl can only eat so many granola bars a day) and a bakery in P.V. so C. could get some croissants.One of my favorite “lost in translation” moments happened when C. asked Sc. to help her order the croissants.  He kept hearing “pwason” (fish in Creole).  C. was confused why he wasn’t understanding, and he was probably just as confused why she wanted to buy fish from a bakery.  He comes from a very poor family and had probably never heard of a croissant, let alone been in a bakery.  Sorry Sc.

            We were pretty exhausted after the heat and business of Port-au-Prince and then the hike down the hill with all of our groceries, so we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening relaxing at home.