Brother Edward Shows Us a Glimpse of the Abundant Plant Life on the Compound

Milkwood (Trabernemontana) - Often confused with gardenias, both the flowers and leaves, but they aren't in the same family.

Traveler's Palm: Ravanela. Comes from Madagascar. Traveler's palm is said to grow North/South. But in fact, this is not actually a palm and it doesn't guide anybody, it grows in any direction. It looks like a banana tree but is not in the banana family. The leaves tear easily to protect the integrity of the trunk during a strong storm.

Sour Orange Tree: Cross between a lime and a pomello. These fruits are used often for marinades and in cooking. Note the big sucker (not good for the tree) on the side with thorns.

Close up of the sucker with the starting of a wasp nest.

Antillean Cherry Tree: This is a native of the Carribean.

Banana tree with a bunch of bananas hanging down. The "stem" or "trunk" is made of only leave bases. If you were to cut it, you'd see just tightly packed leaves. The actual trunk is underground, like a potato.

Another view of the banana tree.

Papaya tree with two fruits. The sexes are separate with each tree.

Aki Tree: These fruits are highly poisonous. There is only a very narrow window when the covering of the seed is not dangerous. This tree is native to Africa.

Aki Tree

More Aki

Tiny guavas. Very green and young guava fruit.

Guanabana (Sour Sop): Very delicious for juice, milkshakes, and ice cream.

Genep/mamoncillo: Yummy fruit with a large seed that has pinkish pulp around it.

Ripe Genep: Be careful...these will seriously stain your clothes.

Madam Sara: This bird is an African native brought to Haiti in the 18th century (possibly with the African slaves?). Also known as a "village weaver" because it weaves a nest into a hollow ball and puts the babies inside.

Mango fruit with small flowers on the right-hand side of the picture.

Out of focus pic of Mango Flowers

Breadfruit Tree: Native of Polynesia. The Mutiny of the Bounty

Close up of the breadfruit.

Tamarind: A native of South Asia. You can crack open these pods and eat the soft flesh surrounding the seeds. You can also soak and strain the pulp to make a sour juice that is light brown and absolutely delicious. Clare is obsessed with this juice and is going to make her own soon.

The Inflorescence of the Fishtail Palm. This is a native of Indonesia. This plant dies after it finishes blooming from the top down (about 30-40 years).

Another view of the inflorescence (flower bloom) of the fishtail palm.

Close up of the fruit/seeds of the fishtail palm.

Staghorn Fern: This plant makes its own basket which traps humus (a dark fertile soil) inside, which allows the plant to keep humidity inside. The leaves grow outside from it and allow the plant to reproduce.

The Pandan or screw pine (not really a pine tree): Native of Polynesia. The leaves grow in a spiral shape and are used for leaving mats, baskets, skirts, and all kinds of things. These are prop roots.

Plumaria: Native of the Americas. One of the most common flowering garden trees. The flowers are the ones used to make lays in Hawaii...but they aren't native to Hawaii.

Ixora: Very common tropical shrub that comes in many colors. The tree on top is the Flamboyant tree, which comes from Madascar and is in the bean family and produces long pods.

A Weekend and a World Away in Jacmel

The Trek to Jacmel: Clare

For Aaron's birthday weekend we put our worries aside about the logistics of transportation and decided we would travel to Jacmel, one of the beautiful coastal cities in the southern part of Haiti that is home to Karnaval (Haiti's Mardi Gras) each year. The city is unique for its beautiful colonial architecture, art scene, beaches, and nearby waterfalls. Getting to Jacmel had been a dream of ours and we knew we'd need street smarts and an adequate amount of Creole to make it happen. We arranged to get dropped off at the bus station in Port Au Prince and were assured by the volunteer coordinator that we would have no problems getting on the right bus. Thankfully, when the time came, our friend and much trusted driver, Emson, was ready for us. Emson is one of the people we consider worthy of our Haitian Dream Team, our imagined group of Haitians we'd prefer to be by our side to handle any situation. He's a large guy with two distinct sides to him. Primarily, we know and love him as goofy, jolly, and sweet. But should the instance arise, the man is exceedingly tough and intimidating. I recall him guiding me through my first visit to a tent village in 2010 grabbing onto my elbow with the toughest "Don't mess with the blanc" look I've ever seen.When he looked back and asked, "You need help?" for getting on the right bus, we knew we'd make it okay.

Once we arrived to the bus station and were assured by Emson that we were on the correct bus (more accurately a large van with 4 or 5 rows of seats), we piled into the back next to a few other passengers. It was clear that we were the only foreigners on this bus or any of the others. Emson warned us to hold onto our bags and wished us a bon voyage. Immediately upon the door closing, at least 10 Haitians surrounded us - the only blancs in the van - and took advantage of our window being open (with my white arm hanging out to make room for the impossibly cramped bus) to try and sell us water, Tampico, bags of the delicious spicy candied peanuts called "pistach" and any other sundry items that can fit on a large flat basket tray. We came prepared with our own water and pistach tucked away in our bags to avoid the need to buy anything and more importantly, the mob of street vendors that would possibly engulf us if we pulled out any amount of cash. We've figured out that politely explaining we don't want anything doesn't deter anyone, and is more taken as an invitation for a more creative sales approach. On this trip, we may have cracked the code for declining a sale. A man had been trying hard to get this blanc chick waiting on the bus to buy some perfume and wasn't letting up. I was prepared to politely repeat "No mesi, mwen pa bezwen sa" or "No thanks, I don't need that" for the 5th or 6th time when Aaron shouted across the crowd at him "Santi bon koute che," a well-known Haitian proverb that means "smelling good is expensive." The tension lifted immediately as our salesman and everyone on the bus roared in laughter. Our sales man gave a smile and a nod at Aaron and made his way elsewhere. Someone pointed at us and yelled to the crowd of vendors in Creole, "They Haitian". It was clear to everyone that we hadn't just arrived and whatever measure of street cred we earned also afforded us a much a much calmer departure wait at the bus station. Once the sweltering hot bus started rolling, the man we had chatted with a bit to next to us next to us became worried over the lack of food and water we declined to purchase and offered us a sip of his Tampico. Interestingly, we feel Haitians are often looking out for us because we may at times seem unprepared or unsure - which is true sometimes.

After leaving the chaos of Port Au Prince, we drove along the coast and around the bay where we could watch the ocean pass us to a small city called Leogane where we turned south and started the steep climb up the mountains. From there the bus roared as we weaved over and around one of the highest mountain ranges in the country on the way to Jacmel, and we felt the grace of sweeping landscapes and cool breezes the whole way through. Though we didn't take any pictures on the bus (both hands being required for sitting balance), believe us when we say the views were breathtaking. A group of runners, mostly consisting of therapy volunteers like myself from Haiti Medical Missions of Memphis, had done a similar trek on foot the last two years during a 3 day, 59 mile ultra-marathon from downtown Port Au Prince ending in the beach in Jacmel. The landscape was as beautiful as I had imagined from the pictures of the ultra marathon and for the purpose of demonstrating the beauty of Haiti, as well as to place a shameless plug for fundraising, I encourage you to check out the website http://www.runhaiti.com/. The picture below is the banner from the website that is chalk full of amazing photos from one of my favorite photographers and Haiti bloggers Ben Depp.

The beautiful views of mountains stacked up like dominos helped to ease the discomfort of rattling and banging of the cramped bus. I made a mini yoga routine of adjusting my head, neck, hip, shoulder, and back position every few minutes to ward off injury or muscle strain in my lower back that kept trying to creep up on me. I think I'm going to teach this little yoga practice to my pain patients who have to travel under rough circumstances like this every day. The most incredible words spoken occurred when our buddy who offered us the sip of Tampico shouted "Mesi Chaufer!" at the driver signaling he was exiting the bus early. He patted us on the back and with an "Okay my whites, I'm out!" in Creole, he wiggled off the bus and I was able to move my left leg again.

With the little Creole we knew, we befriended a band of four brothers plus their one friend on the bus who were going to perform for a church service that weekend in Jacmel. Called Twobakapela, they are an a capella band inspired by the band Boyz II Men and other world musicians who use various types of vocal percussion. They gave us a free CD and played us a few songs off their phones during the ride. Their music is absolutely incredible and it was hard to believe they were able to make all of those harmonies and percussion with just 5 people!

Twobakapela: The band of brothers

Arriving at the Hotel Florita: Aaron

The two hour bus ride ended in downtown Jacmel, followed by a short moto ride to the Hotel Florita where we had reservations for the weekend. On the moto, we took in the small but colorful cityscape, which was much more relaxed than back in Port Au Prince. The Hotel Florita was by far the most lovely building in the area (the photos don't even do it justice). We walked into the spectacularly preserved building from 1888, which was apparently a private residence until the late 20th century. We had a balcony view of the street and although you could occasionally hear the dogs that roam around in packs in Jacmel at night (we are in Haiti after all), we really appreciated hanging out on the rocking chairs and watching the street life go by. Our room was absolutely beautiful and as soon as we unloaded our stuff we spent an hour or so relaxing on the porch overlooking the street. The details in the room were incredible: heavy painted metal storm-shutters as the only windows, tall old slatted wood doors leading out to the balcony, exposed thick brick walls, and beautiful carved wood furniture complete with a fitted mosquito net which meant freedom from getting tangled up in a bug net at night. Drinking Haitian rum on the balcony, we felt like a couple of late 19th century coffee barrens! At night we slept with the windows and doors open so we could feel the breeze coming off the ocean and it felt like we were camping outside under the stars, just amazing.

After getting settled into our room we wanted to grab some dinner, but were tired from our trip. We decided to head downstairs to the bar/restaurant for some food and drinks. The bar/restaurant was beautiful and funky as well and we enjoyed taking it easy there for an incredibly romantic dinner. The ambiance from the intoxicating music, food, funky decor and drinks had us feeling like we were on our second honeymoon (not to mention we were the only patrons in the place for dinner - it was surreal). The rum punch was killer and the food was absolutely delicious. The thing we miss most about living in Haiti is eating dark greens, and we both ordered the mango salad with dark leafy greens, and mangoes dripping with slightly spicy dressing served with pita wedges. We also ate some fresh cooked fish. The salad was so good we both ordered it again again the second day for lunch! I wish I would've taken a photo of how beautiful the food was. For my birthday breakfast the next morning we enjoyed what I'm sure must be some of the best coffee on the planet and delicious gourmet toast served with a dish of spicy peanut butter and beautiful cherry jam spiced with cinnamon and anise. 

Bienvini!

Welcome to Hotel Florita!

 

Awesome street view from our room's balcony

J'aime

Most luxurious bug net ever!

Bedroom window

Outside our balcony during the day

Outside our balcony at night

Best Rum Punch EVER!

Funky bar of Hotel Florita

Bar up close

Creepily awesome artwork

Outdoor Dining

Outdoor staircase to our second story room

Mardi Gras masks, old mail boxes and wood/iron staircase

Hotel Courtyard

Rear view of the hotel from the courtyard

 
Basin Bleu: Aaron

The manager helped us arrange a guide for seeing Basin Bleu, a spectacular 75 feet deep fresh water basin in the mountains overlooking Jacmel. Our guide was a Jacmel native named Babout with dreads and a large infectious smile. He arranged for some motos to take us up to the basin and we rode the 6 km up the mountainside. When we arrived to the Basin park, we were met by a guide who led us down into the actual Basin. He asked us if we were strong swimmers, and when I shrugged and said, "Not especially," he relegated me to the shallow end of the basin. He explained there is a strong current and people who drowned in the past, so as long as he was our guide there would be nobody meeting that fate today. Clare being a strong swimmer was granted permission to swim wherever. Okay, well at least I got to take pictures of Clare swimming in the deep waters. The Basin was stunningly beautiful. Fresh blue water fed by a waterfall and massive rock formations were well worth the journey. Our guide, knowing the shallow spots, held onto our camera and is ultimately responsible for all the pictures we have of the basin. We probably wouldn't have brought it so close to the water otherwise.

Small Basin on our way up to Basin Bleu

River crossing

Our fearless guide

Indoor rock climbing experience not required but useful

Basin Bleu

 

Hanging out in the shallow end - safety first!

WEEEE!

We walked the 6km back to Jacmel and caught some amazing views of the Bay of Jacmel and mountainside along the way. Our guide Babout knew pretty much everyone in the area and we appreciated his charm and wit throughout the journey. Before making it back to the hotel, he made sure to personally show us all the art studios and galleries (and there are lots of them). Jacmel is the town where Karnival is celebrated, and filled with paintings, paper mache masks, animals, and other Haitian Vodou accoutrements. So many colorful, crazy, and downright creepy stuff to explore! The art scene varied from beautiful galleries displaying professional artist quality (out of our budget) framed paintings, to street-side artist studios, to small shops selling handicrafts, to other shops invisible from the street through a busted metal fence inside a collective artist warehouse. It was here in the warehouse Babout took us where we found something we knew we needed to come back with: a near life-sized paper mache bull head painted wildly and with the Haitian flag emblem on the front. The artist wasn't there and the salesman wouldn't bargain with us without him, so we agreed to come back the following day.

Basin Bleu village

   

First glimpse of the bay on the way down

Mountain view of the Bay of Jacmel walking back to the town from Basin Bleu

Looking back up the mountain from the bottom

After some rest and relaxation, we wanted to eat at one of the local restaurants on the beach front. I had been really wanting to try some lambi (grilled conch meat) and we stopped at the first place we found that served it. Sitting outside and watching the sunset over the ocean, we drank our Prestige and reveled in our love and admiration for each other and the country we call home for the next few months. The lambi was delicious, marinated in some kind of brown curry sauce. Check that one off the list! We made it back toward our hotel and found our way to a French cultural center that was a regular hang out for ex-pats in the area where we heard there would be some music playing. We grabbed a seat, some more Prestige, and my Jacmel-made cigar and enjoyed a couple hours soaking it all in before heading back for the night.

Waterfront right in town.

Mosiac right next to the waterfront

Ready for birthday lambi!

Band of ex-pats

Birthday cigar

The street at night

Scoring the Tet Bef and returning to Port Au Prince: Aaron

The following morning we wanted to walk around and experience the town and see if we couldn't find a way to purchase our favorite cow head before heading home. On our way to the gallery, we heard a guy shouting at us from behind (a familiar experience), and we didn't respond. After the shouting continued we looked back to see it was Babout! We explained that we didn't turn around to address him because we always get shouted at, and then his feelings weren't hurt. "I got the tet bef (bull head) at the price you wanted! Let's go!" No coincidence no doubt. So we went and met the masterful artist of the tet bef and walked out of the store with our heads held high as if we had killed the bull ourselves before leaving back to Port Au Prince.

Happy Birthday!

We knew the ride back was going to be rough - not for us as much as for the fragile tet bef. We had no problem getting to the bus station and were told to get into the front seat of the van where we had more room. We aren't sure if it was because we were blancs or we had a giant paper mache cow head, but we didn't complain. Turned out it cost a little bit more to ride in the front but it was well worth the safety of our prized tet bef. We zipped through the countryside and the mountains just like on the way there and before we knew it, we landed back in Port Au Prince. Initially our concern was getting to Jacmel. Once we were standing in the middle of the crowded bus station, we realized for our next trick we'd have to connect with our driver somewhere in the middle of this madness. We couldn't stay at the bus station because it was way too crowded and hectic. So instead we walked a block or two to the nearest gas station and stayed as low key as possible in the corner behind a few vendors. We were impressed that not many people seemed to notice two blancs hanging out in the corner of the gas station with a giant tet bef, for about 10 minutes anyways. At that point, one of the attendants came out and started talking to us in Creole. We introduced ourselves and assured him we had a chauffeur but didn't know if he knew exactly where we were. He offered to use our phone and contact him, which he did. We were thankful to have him get our driver correct directions and in the mean time we quickly became encircled by curious Haitians wanting to know what a couple of blancs were doing just standing at the gas station with a giant bull head covered in news paper. We had fun with them and answered all the standard questions, asked to just about any foreigner in the same order:

1) Where you from? - Nou se American. Nou rete Detroit. Tupre Canada. Ou konen rapper Eminem? - Yes, most Haitian's know Eminem.
2) Why are you in Haiti? - (for lack of a clearer explanation) I'm a teacher, she's a doctor of physical therapy
3) Do you like Haiti? - Wi, nou renmen anpil!
4) Are you married - Wi
5) Do you have children? - No, nou pa genyen ti moun - This is usually a very disappointing answer which leads to the next question, asked in distress;
6) Why not?! - Because I need to finish school first
7) When will you have children? How many? - Very very soon and lots of them! - While this isn't exactly truthful either, this usually  puts a big smile on their face and calms their anxiety over our childless existence and is followed by a kind wish for us to have lots of children.

In a few minutes our driver showed up and we hopped in the car. We drove back to the compound laughing about the silliness and beauty of our adventure. Best birthday weekend ever!

Our prize: Tet Bef!