Falling Mangos

I had plan to have more time for this post than I currently have, therefore, I apologize in advance if I don't go into all the details of my first week. First of all, thanks to all for comments and encouragement and for those of you that continue to want to know more of my involvement and my "on goings" in Haiti. I am very fortunate to have such great friends to support me and my journey here.

 

The smells of the burning trash quickly swept into and around the grounds of the hospital instantly bringing back those nostalgic thoughts when I arrived. We are fortunate at the hospital to have one rather large mango tree that drops it's fruit, without warning, like rain from the sky. The fruit is great for the employees of the hospital and a day doesn't past when someone is slurping the fruit from the skin while resting in the shade. The problem for us "blan" (literally means white, but is how Haitians refer to foreigners) is that we, or at least I, haven't acquired an ear for the snapping of the mango before gravity brings it quickly to the ground landing in a splat/thud. Therefore, the problem lies in the fact that one of these days I am gonna be knocked out from a falling mango if I don't learn quickly to hear the "sound". I have been fortunate thus far that the closes case of a falling mango has only been arms length and not on my head, and for those of you that aren't familiar with the fruit, a ripe mango can way 2 to 3 pounds and most of the time will fall from distances in the upwards of 40 feet!! Believe me, you don't want to get hit.

 

Life outside the hospital, unfortunately, is much the same as I remember it. Most days begin when the sun rises at approximately 5 am and continues, for those of us at the compound, until the bar closes across the street from the hospital. Island music fills the air every night and the streets are crowded with few cars, several motorcycles, and lots of people. Those that can afford it are sipping rhum and beer while others just seem to be catching up on the events of each others day. Some Haitians work the evening hours roaming the streets selling anything they can get their hands on. From bags of water to belts they hover the streets intruding on conversations and socialization trying to earn some money, which I am sure they need to feed their families and themselves. 

 

I ran into two particular ladies whom which you see in the picture above that were selling grilled corn. They were the sweetest ladies and it was then in that moment that I wished I knew their language more fluently, but I mustered enough Creole to ask them if I could take a picture and they kindly suggested it would be fine. Afterwards I showed them the picture and they laughed hysterically and found themselves almost hypnotized as they took the camera from my hands and stared for a few minutes. My thoughts quickly ventured to what their living situation must be like and how, if no one buys any corn that day what would they do for money? This roaming of the mind is a frequent occurrence for me as I wonder the streets of Leogane: 

 

I can't believe people really live like this? What are they eating? What is that smell? I can't believe the amounts of trash everywhere? 

 

It stems from there and roams wildly into more detailed thoughts of their life, just like our lives, and what they consist of daily. The obstacles they face daily that are as simple as clean water from which to take a drink or wash their face. It will send your thoughts spiraling into a corner of your mind that you don't frequent and you find yourself hurting for them. It is hard for me, but for the people here it is all they know. They are strong and somehow they keep hope close by. It is truly amazing!!

 

Of course, I want to include more personal experiences but they tend to get a bit wordy and with my novice writing skills I tend to not stay on track. I appreciate the patience's and I hope to have more soon.

Na we toutale m' fanmi ak bon zanmi!!!