A bit of an episode that happened to me Friday.
After work, we decided to go for a drink with a colleague, I want to learn some créole and he wants to learn some Portuguese so we could exchange informal classes.
Something that simple actually ended up being pretty complex stuff in this new lifestyle.
You should know that us, part of this organisation, have certain security rules for moving around and one of them is that we need to have one car from the org dropping us and picking us back up - so, in conclusion, with very few exceptions and also certain limitations, we have a driver and a car at our disposal for work and leisure time.
My colleague had in mind a bar which was new to me and so he told my driver the name and address of the place. He would meet me there as he had to take his car, and given the rules I should not board any car that is private. So this meant that us 2, we took 2 cars to get to the same bar.
After just a few minutes, the driver tells me we arrived and he drops me in front of a green and orange wall, a guard from the other side. The place is called 'Concern', green letters. I get to the door and the guard opens the door to me, he looks inquisitive so I explain that I'm coming for a drink and that a colleague of mine is just on the way to join. He gives me a chair to sit outside, just inside the wall but outside the house and goes to find someone.
Someone else comes from inside and I explain the same again, it could be that the first guy didn't speak fluent French (not all Haitians do, créole is the dominant language). He asks me the name of my colleague, I tell him and it doesn't ring a bell. Weird. Awkward. I ask him if the place is closed, that I don't mean to disturb and we can go somewhere else. But he says that I can stay there or come inside, no worries. I stay put. I start wondering where did I get myself into, what kind of café this is, just one week after arriving to Port-au-Prince could I already be putting myself into trouble. And I don't have my colleague's number.
But my colleague calls soon after luckily. He wonders where I am. I thought I was in the bar we were supposed to meet in. I explain him the location based on a store across the street, the guard also gives me the full address and after some minutes he finally gets there.
So apparently I went to the wrong place. I decide to be more specific and ask the guard if this is a bar... to which I finally get the answer I was looking for: this is not a bar. This is the office of an NGO, a private building I had just so elegantly trespassed without anyone telling me so.
We call back my driver, go again in 2 separate cars with my driver following my colleague's car, and we get to the proper bar we were supposed to go to in the first place. All within 1km radius or so it seemed.
This showed me a bit of what local culture seems to be like, how welcoming and polite they can be to the point that they won't stop you entering a private house, they won't kick you out when they see you must be clearly mistaken and they won't even pressure you to figure it out. They give you a chair to sit in instead :)
Of course it makes a difference that I am a white girl, carrying a backpack and being dropped by an NGO jeep, but this delicate approach would probably not be the approach in many other parts of the world.
And I did learn some new words! 'Bonswe, mwen relé Claudia. Mwen sotie Portugal.' (Good evening, my name is Claudia. I come from Portugal)
PS: this weekend I also went to the beach - photos on the next post!
After work, we decided to go for a drink with a colleague, I want to learn some créole and he wants to learn some Portuguese so we could exchange informal classes.
Something that simple actually ended up being pretty complex stuff in this new lifestyle.
You should know that us, part of this organisation, have certain security rules for moving around and one of them is that we need to have one car from the org dropping us and picking us back up - so, in conclusion, with very few exceptions and also certain limitations, we have a driver and a car at our disposal for work and leisure time.
My colleague had in mind a bar which was new to me and so he told my driver the name and address of the place. He would meet me there as he had to take his car, and given the rules I should not board any car that is private. So this meant that us 2, we took 2 cars to get to the same bar.
After just a few minutes, the driver tells me we arrived and he drops me in front of a green and orange wall, a guard from the other side. The place is called 'Concern', green letters. I get to the door and the guard opens the door to me, he looks inquisitive so I explain that I'm coming for a drink and that a colleague of mine is just on the way to join. He gives me a chair to sit outside, just inside the wall but outside the house and goes to find someone.
Someone else comes from inside and I explain the same again, it could be that the first guy didn't speak fluent French (not all Haitians do, créole is the dominant language). He asks me the name of my colleague, I tell him and it doesn't ring a bell. Weird. Awkward. I ask him if the place is closed, that I don't mean to disturb and we can go somewhere else. But he says that I can stay there or come inside, no worries. I stay put. I start wondering where did I get myself into, what kind of café this is, just one week after arriving to Port-au-Prince could I already be putting myself into trouble. And I don't have my colleague's number.
But my colleague calls soon after luckily. He wonders where I am. I thought I was in the bar we were supposed to meet in. I explain him the location based on a store across the street, the guard also gives me the full address and after some minutes he finally gets there.
So apparently I went to the wrong place. I decide to be more specific and ask the guard if this is a bar... to which I finally get the answer I was looking for: this is not a bar. This is the office of an NGO, a private building I had just so elegantly trespassed without anyone telling me so.
We call back my driver, go again in 2 separate cars with my driver following my colleague's car, and we get to the proper bar we were supposed to go to in the first place. All within 1km radius or so it seemed.
This showed me a bit of what local culture seems to be like, how welcoming and polite they can be to the point that they won't stop you entering a private house, they won't kick you out when they see you must be clearly mistaken and they won't even pressure you to figure it out. They give you a chair to sit in instead :)
Of course it makes a difference that I am a white girl, carrying a backpack and being dropped by an NGO jeep, but this delicate approach would probably not be the approach in many other parts of the world.
And I did learn some new words! 'Bonswe, mwen relé Claudia. Mwen sotie Portugal.' (Good evening, my name is Claudia. I come from Portugal)
PS: this weekend I also went to the beach - photos on the next post!
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