from June 20

Dear everybody everywhere,
Hi again from Ecole Shalom, where the rumble of the generator is lulling me into a sleepy, over-sunshined, semi-dehydrated trance. Shit, man, you have to drink water constantly here. I never drink enough water at the best of times – and I’ve been really good about forcing liters of it down my throat every day – but I slacked off today, and I’m paying for it. Bad Jessie.

Today we spent our Sunday as we should – at rest. Except we decided to rest at Wahoo Bay Beach. Yes, Wahoo Bay. Nothing you can do, with a name like that you know it’s going to be a riot. Actually, it was a pretty artificial space – a private beach with waiters, a bar, a select few vendors with souvenirs and artwork, lounge chairs in the sand. It was insulated enough that I could just retreat into myself for a bit, though. And the water was just gorgeous. Nothing needs to be said about the resort space – it wasn’t outstanding, but it was nice. I will say, though, that this rotation of volunteers knows how to have a good time.

Highlight of the day: a handful of us hopped in a rowboat and decided to seek out something a little more rooted in reality. So, we paddled around the barrier – yes, the barrier – and along the shore to a public beach where tons of locals were hanging out. It was so much nicer and more real than the bizarre NGO crowd at the resort. Whole families in the water, people cuddling and sleeping in the sun, tons of food and conversation. A group of people were improvising music with amazing instruments – a stick against an empty bottle, two rocks together, a metal grate – and singing in Creole. It was totally amazing. I’d admittedly been imbibing a little, which made it even more relaxing and fun. (Haitian rum is nice, and that’s coming from someone who normally hates rum).

Anyway, lots of dancing! Hymns, love songs, songs about the earthquake, songs about the soccer game – one of the Haitian boys who spoke good English translated lyrics for me as the musicians played. The non-Haitian crowd at the beach was kind of bizarre, though – they were mostly South American, or from Southeast Asia, all men, and all with absolutely no sense of boundaries or personal space. See, local people were grabbing my hand when I walked by and pulling me up to dance and telling me I was beautiful, and that was fine! I like expressive people, so no big deal.

But when the bloated Argentinean men hit me with that disturbing, acquisitive gaze and propositioned me or asked me to become their mistress? Slightly less cool with that. And all the non-Haitian men, most of whom spoke little English, were obsessed with pictures. I’d been warned about that, so it wasn’t unexpected, but every single one of them wanted to pose for a picture with me, or with the other people from my group who came across to the public beach. Anyway, weird.

On the plus side, I discovered two amazing things: this sort of a peanut brittle thing – nuts, and sugarcane, and I think ginger? Which is unbearably sweet and delicious! And conch. Shit, I felt guilty eating it, because it’s probably hideously unsustainable, but it reminded me of abalone. It was pickled in something spicy and intoxicatingly flavourful.

After we decided to retire from the beach, we all got caught up in the open-air bar where they were broadcasting the Brazil soccer game. Now, don’t mistake me, I don’t care a whit for soccer, or any other sport – in fact, I don’t even know who Brazil was playing against. But the spirit of it was totally fun. The whole bar would erupt whenever Brazil scored a goal (they won 3-1). When the game was over, everyone leapt out of their chairs and broke out into this totally hilarious and amazing song and dance. It was unreal. I have pictures that I’ll post when I get home, but trust me...soccer fans are utterly crazy. I love it.

I am developing a secret fondness for long tap-tap rides, especially along the coast and in the rural areas. Today our ride was about an hour and a half each way, heading north through and past Cabaret. I don’t mind the bouncing and jostling so much – maybe it’s the experience on boats in rough weather, and on logging roads. I don’t know how I’d feel about it in one of the small public tap-taps, either – we have a large one, which we cram to capacity, that we hire just for our group. But it’s a really neat experience. The urban spaces are a pretty crazy visual to confront, but the rural areas are breathtakingly beautiful.

Okay, this feels totally disjointed and uninteresting. I am so tired, even I’m not interested in my day right now. Time to sleep off my overdose of sunshine. In fact, I think I’m going to break out my oral rehydration salts, because I know I’m dehydrated and I’m not willing to deal with that horrible, dangerous hangover feeling. Hopefully tomorrow I will have a little more spunk. It’s been a long week – I can’t believe it’s been a week since I arrived. In some moments, it feels like the time has soared by. In others, it feels like I’ve lived my whole life in this space. Ten more days – just ten more days. I can’t even believe it.

Alright folks, I’m going to bed. I’m sending my love to all of you.
Jess