The first sounds you hear in Haiti are the sounds of the Haitian language, kreyol, a creole (as the name suggests) of French, West African languages and English, Spanish and aboriginal words and phrases, whirled together in a great linguistic blender until a separate language was created, with completely different grammar, only partially mutually intelligible with French.
One of the French features that was lost was the barrier between “tu” and “vous”, the formal and informal “you”– the blending of the two pronouns into the one pronoun “ou”.
Blending, breaking down barriers…a good way to describe the Haiti that I have seen. Night is day, red is blue, up is down, death is life.
Pigs ride motorcycles, goats and chickens wander calmly through the city’s largest cemetery.
During a Friday night concert, two dancers simulating sex have stopped simulating, others (touched on some strange inner level by the American lead singer who is also a vodou priest) have gone into a shrieking religious ecstasy. Through it all– cheering, cocktail-sipping young people and nonplussed dogs.
And the dead do not die, they are merely recycled.
More to come tomorrow evening with pictures. 😉