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Saturday, March 15, Fondwa, Haiti
Arrival and exciting trip to Fondwa. I left extra early on the first flight to PAP from Miami this time because I had agreed to add a Saturday afternoon class for the directors of APF to teach them basic report writing and managerial skills. However, when I arrived in Port-au –Prince, one of my suitcases was missing. I had extra luggage because I was bringing a desktop PC donated by some good friends in Miami. So I spent six hours waiting for the next plane from Miami to arrive. Finally my luggage arrived and we were off. After picking up a sister of the APF order, we drove on to Fondwa. About halfway up the mountains we decided to pass a bus and suddenly a huge semi truck came around the corner about 100 feet ahead of us, bearing straight at us. Amenold tried to slow down to get behind the bus while the bus slowed down to let us pass. I decided that this was finally it, we all had to die some day. Then, at the last minute, reminiscent of Moses opening the floods, the bus went all the way to the right, almost falling off the cliff and the semi hugged the mountain and we went in between them, bouncing off the side of the semi and suddenly we came out at the other side, without mirrors, but still alive.
I was supposed to teach a class to the APF directors that afternoon, but we arrived too late and I was too shook up to do anything but have a few large Barbancourt and coke.
Jacmel.
I forgot that this Sunday was Palm Sunday and I had only three of thirteen students show up for the morning class. We called it a day early and I decided to go to Jacmel instead. On a good day there would be three cars in Fondwa, Amenold’s, Vital’s and Max’s. However, this was not a good day. Max’s Jeep was standing in front of the school with carburetor trouble, Vital’s was in the shop in Port au Prince and Max had taken Amenold’s car to go to PaP. So I took a Tap Tap, which meant waiting at the street for about half an hour and then standing in the back of a converted truck, holding on to the rafters for dear life as the truck careened around the many curves down to Jacmel. My sailing experience helped me adjust and after a while I started leaning into the curves and it was getting more comfortable. Once in Jacmel I walked through town, went back to the art shop where we had bought some paintings before but couldn’t make up my mind and had lunch at the Jacmel Hotel at the town’s beach. After it got dark I took a moped taxi back to Fondwa. I decided later not to do that again at night. When you see a single headlight coming at you, you never know whether it is another moped, or a car with either the left or the right light out. I made it back in one piece and the rest of the stay was uneventful.
Peasant customs.
On Monday morning, as Max and I started walking from his house to the school, he stopped at small peasant shack just up the hill from us. There was a group of about ten peasants sitting outside the house, most of them playing domino. Max talked to them for a little while and we were on our way. He then explained that the man of the house had just died and that it was the custom that neighbors and friends would come for about two weeks after the funeral and keep the surviving family company. They would stay all day and the family had to feed them and provide drinks. Then Max went on to explain that exactly a year after a person had died the Voodoo priest will come and perform a ceremony, which will put the soul of the departed at rest. Now the person is really gone and at peace.
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