22333: Kathleen: walking across the bridge; la vie continue (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: kathleen burke <kathleenburke704@hotmail.com>

The last time I was here, Tuesday, was a beautiful, calm day in Hinche. The
cybercafe I use is just at the base of the bridge entering hinche; there are
no Brazillians up here yet.  I hope to see  some when I go down to Port au
Prince on Sunday/Monday.

I went into town to replenish my film supply, and encountered Fre  Lama, on
his way to visit someone at the hospital.  He dropped me off at the store
and then later at the cybercafe.  I had given him some cds and videos of
Haitian musicians in action and he like them very much.  He also asked me to
translate a paragraph I had missed completely in my first draft of his
proposal to Farmer to Farmer in Washington DC for help with honey projects.
Then, after I had put in another hour at the cafe (the young Haitians here
and  at the English class Saturday give me such hope for Haiti!  If only
....) I walked slowly across the bridge, trying to absorb as much Haitiana
as I could against the jinglejangle awaiting me in the States. There were
people, mainly kids, swimming as usual in the earthen brown water of the
river Hinche.

Halfway across the bridge, I heard a little voice call, "Blan! blan!"  To my
side, a little girl in a blue uniform raced up:   "Bon Soir!"  with a big
smile.   I bent down and hugged her, and kissed her cheek to Multiple
Chuckes and Giggles. Then I stood in the shade at the bend of the road until
a motorized vehicle willing to transport me passed by (the time before last,
it was Ernest of MPP on his motorcycle).   This time,  it was Rony's cousin,
transporting a sister I had not met before.  They dropped me off as
requested at the diocesan center; i had photos I wanted to leave for Souer
Victoire, who is on vacation (no jam for Americans this return trip!).  The
brother who gave me plant shoots years ago took them for her.

Then I ambled up to the "bus stop" bench across from Radio Vwa Peyzan to
publicize my plight to the guys I knew there:  Both Dieugrand (who eats 12
mangoes a day to "profite" from the short season of plenty) and I had
forgotten how fast time flies - it seems too soon for nearly a month to have
passed, and I must arrange for a ride by Sunday, Monday the latest to be
sure  to get my early Wednesday a. m. flight.  no fear, though -- I'll be
taken down the mountain in good time.  i just don't know by whom yet.

I'll miss the little girls who come by to coiff my hair (it's their idea,
I'm no child exploiter) and do such a good job I want to take one under each
arm and carry them back to Gloucester with me.   Frankiwhitesox too, while
I'm at it.  Tuesday afternoon, one of them noticed the blue vein in my foot
and traced it with her finger.  I extended my hands to show them the same on
the backs of my hands and then *gasp* on the underside of my wrists.  They
kept looking in vain (vein) for the same on their bodies.  I explained that
their skin was less fragile but still the veins were there, with RED blood
in both cases.

Life goes on; despite all the bad and political news, there are still
artistic events "livres en folie" and a dance/choreography event involving
the music of several nations at the Rex theatre in Port au Prince.  Here the
milklady comes (nearly) every morning and the cats are causing such rampant
"desordre", including Mama Cat, that I left with "Vend tous!!" to Dyamen and
TiBoss.
Let  them pester  someone else and fe ca ca in someone else's dining room!!!
  Mama cat too!!

This morning was a holy day; there were not so many cars and motos on the
road as usual.   I hitched a ride on a John  Deere tractor.  Honestly, I'll
never  do it again (that's 3 things in the past 30 days).  As a friend in
Paris used to say, "You're only young once, but you can be immature
forever."  My poor back.  My ever-generous friends and neighbors in Papay.

Fortunately, the cybercafe was  open.  George came in with a handful of
mangoes; I told him my theory that mangoes, while beloved by everyone, were
especially a haitian man  thing.  Bazelais, for example, used to swim across
the Bassin (Zim) with a dozen or so mangoes, eat them all, then wash off
under the falls.

I've learned how to save/copy messages send.  Thanks for helping me out
before, Dan.  I've learned that my box in U.S.A. is filled to capacity.
Lots of work awaiting me!!!

Kathleen

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