Roosters and Coconuts

Friday, September 14, 2012

Roosters do not crow simply to verify the break of dawn. They call at all hours of the day and mix in with the sounds of noisy crows picking berries off the shade tree to the left of the porch, and the oriels that swoop and sing. They blend with the neighborhood children laughing at their own cleverness as they stretch garbage bags over bamboo, and attach strands of t-shirts, too tattered to wear, to make kites that bob and dive in the air above the dusty road. Roaming chickens cock their heads to take note of the call, then continue their pecking at fallen mangoes beneath a canopy of leaves, filtering the mid-day sun. Before living in Haiti I thought of roosters as only the mythical herald's of the morn, but they already are blending into the commonplace of the rural Haitian landscape.

I have lived without my watch since coming to Haiti. I will need to observe time again, soon enough, but for now I am pleased to bed after a few hours of dark and to rise with the brightness of day. I am beginning to fall into the rhythm of life here at COTP.

After getting up this morning I washed a few items of clothes in the kitchen sink and walked from our apartment at Manna to COTP. I saw the girls for a few minutes before breakfast. Today was french toast day and I found my appetite had returned some with the smell of warm cinnamon. Fresh pineapple, avocado, and tomatoes were also set out. Not my usual breakfast combo, but ok.

After returning from breakfast, neighborhood friends showed up at the gate asking for Noah and Elijah -- McKenzie and his older brother Tony. They introduced us to the many fruits on the trees of this compound, eager for us to sample, and ready to laugh at our varied responses to the unfamiliar textures and flavors.

Gracie, Karys, and Elijah standing in our front yard
 with a prize coconut.

Locals eat the coconuts when they are green on the outside. The coconut “water” is clear and sweet, and the pulp thin and slippery. The boys laughed and pulled faces when I told them I like my coconut “old and brown”! Crazy “blan”! I took the coconut water, some grapefruit, sour orange, and mango and squeezed it into juice mixed with 7-Up and shared it with the boys. It seemed to be a hit. Elijah and Noah loved it!

Knowing what to share and not to share is a major dilemma. McKenzie wants Noah to bring out his DSi and give it to him, which I said “no” to. But sharing our delicious fruit punch was an easy yes. Then there is the whole spectrum of yes and no in between. What is going to bless our relationship with new friends? We know they sometimes do not have enough to eat and that a few days a week they pick up the large empty milk cans which have been filled with our leftovers from brunch and mid-day meals. They eat our scraps so their stomachs do not go hungry in the evening. These same children then come over the next day to play ladder ball and have nut wars from the roof of the volunteer center with the boys, while the girls jump rope, giggling when I get in and jump before declaring I am too “fatigue” (tired) and “cho” (hot) to continue. Just some normal malnourished children..... there are some realities and discrepancies here almost too big to think about. It's no wonder that as infants sometimes their mothers would rather give their infant to a stranger than watch them hunger and thirst through years of childhood. It's a thought too hard to contemplate. Can I blame a child for becoming so bold as to ask for a DSi or bread? God give me wisdom to find the right balance in a place where creation and stomachs groan for Maranatha (Christ come quickly).