nice tan

Back in 2007, on my first trip to Chicago after spending several months Haiti, my grandfather saw my pasty-white complexion and questioned whether I had actually been living on a Caribbean island. Those days I pretty much worked non-stop – made only one trip to the beach in a 12 month period. Over the last month or two, I’ve managed to maintain a much better work/play balance that has included fairly regular trips to water or mountains. If he could see me now I think my grandfather would finally be satisfied that my tan is worthy of my Caribbean residency.

Yesterday I went on a snorkeling trip organized by some of my MCC friends. I love exploring Haiti with them as they are generally a locally-oriented, open-to-adventure, penny-pinching crew of faith-based social-justice types (as most days I aspire to be). While many other foreigners tend to stick to the small circle of more established hotels, beaches and restaurants, my MCC friends are more likely seek out and find the holes-in-the-wall. Yesterday’s outing was organized through “Rasta” - a late 40 early 50-something Haitian Rastafarian dude that our friend K met a couple months ago when he stopped at a random little side-of-the-road seafood shack on route to the beaches north of the city.

Our group of 15 blans drove an hour up the coast from Port-au-Prince and then took a 30 minute boat ride out to a small island surrounded by coral reefs. It was a characteristically Haitian experience - incredible beauty and amazing potential side-by-side with poverty and maddening neglect. The water was absolutely beautiful but the beachfront was cluttered with unbelievable amounts of trash that had washed ashore. There was gorgeous purple coral and sea plants but only a few not-super-impressive little fish – likely related to the over-fishing and environmental damage all along the coast. (One friend, a former-resident of Hawaii, ranked the snorkeling as a 6 out of 10). Our local seafood was excellent but it had been pre-cooked and carried to the island in disposable styrofoam containers. That said, the company, the swimming, and the sunshine were fantastic. Check out some photos of our trip here. You can see some underwater photos taken by K on a previous visit to the area here.

Saturday wasn’t so bad either. I had planned to get a haircut but ended up having a pedicure after I arrived at the salon only to discover that the Haitian beautician with a lot of experience cutting non-African hair was actually on vacation. (I guess I should have been more specific when I made my appointment given that it's a bit of a logistical drama trying to find a ride up to the place). Followed up the pedicure with brunch at a lovely hotel with co-worker/friends and a quick artisan shopping trip to buy a wedding gift. Between embassies, NGOs, missionaries and the United Nations (as well as visiting Haitian-American/Canadians) there is a sizeable population of foreigners with cash to spend in Port-au-Prince. Certain types of businesses– restaurants, artisans, beauticians – can do quite well by catering to them. Take the market for salon services catering to non-African hair. There are three women I know of who cut "blan" hair– one who caters to the North Americans (she speaks perfect English), another seemingly preferred by Europeans and a third who is Dominican. All they need is the word of mouth advertising through the expatriot networks and they can fill all their weekend slots. Personally, I’ve decided that my back-up career plan is to open a coffee shop with an American-style brunch menu someplace like Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso or Juba, Sudan.

I finally seem to be finding my way around these parts just as I am preparing to leave – better late then never. No beach trips for me the next three weekends – I leave on Friday for 2 weeks in the Southern African winter!