Creole for Dummies

I basically spent this whole week working on my Creole.  I will be fluent.  I will.  Life goal.  It’s not on my Truck-It List because I don’t think it will happen this summer, but it will happen.  Anyway, I’ve had teachers of all different shapes and sizes this week:

-The kids are usually my favorite to learn from.  Partly because they’re so dang cute, and I just like hanging out with them (surprise, surprise), and partly because they’re easier to understand.  They usually speak slower and have smaller vocabularies, so I can keep up with what they’re saying.

-Then you have Ruth and her cousins… little punks.  Okay, just kidding.  I love them to death.  Ruth is about ten and was staying out at La Baie with us to visit her aunt.  They found out I spoke some Creole and decided to only talk to me in it one night when we were hanging out—even though almost all of them spoke English, too.  Whenever they say something too fast, I always say “Two vit!”  “Too fast!”  So Ruth though it’d be funny to make fun of me by saying the sentence one syllable at a time as if I were dumb.  I hit her in the head.  She laughed.  Little punk.

-My interpreters and the driver this week also tried to only talk to me in Creole.  They definitely speak too fast… But I got used to it a little bit.  Sometimes I would say something like, “Hey, Amos, can you help me put this kite together?”  And he would answer, “Can you ask me in Creole?”

Hedwing, the other interpreter, decided he would teach me through songs.  I learned a Haitian dance called Kompa, which is kind of a slow dance--really easy.  He taught me a couple of other reggae-ish type dances and in return I showed him the basic swing dance moves and a salsa-ish dance step.  (The latter worked much better with Puerto Rican music than the former, FYI…) He wrote down the names of some of the Haitian artists we listened to so I can iTunes it up.  Seriously good music.

-But the prize for the best teacher of the week goes to Maxem, the headmaster at the school in Augustine.  First of all, he doesn’t know any English, so he couldn’t cheat and tell me what he said.  Instead, he would slow down (not making fun, like Ruth) or he would write it down for me.  I learned a ton.  I also gave him my email address, so I could have a Haitian penpal to practice with!

Usually, I do a single Creole lesson, but seeing as I've been learning so much, I'll throw a couple at you this time.

I picked my Neighbors Project group up from the airport last week.  While I was waiting for the plane to come in, I met a really nice Haitian guy who had a shoe-washing stool set-up.  He knew a little English and I know a little Creole, so we managed to have a nice conversation.  Somehow we ended up on the subject of my future in Haiti and how it's all still pretty blurry at this point.  His response:

“Bondye konn tout bagay.”

At first, I didn't understand... I asked him to repeat it for me.  And then I got it:

“God knows everything.”

Words of wisdom from a shoe-cleaner.  And some freshly-cleaned TOMS.

Last blog, I wrote about the proverb "There are mountains beyond mountains," but I forgot to say why.  I just finished a book called Mountains Beyond Mountains, an amazing non-fiction true story about a doctor in Haiti named Paul Farmer.  Here are some stories from the book:

When asked how a God who loves us could "permit such great misery," the Haitians answered: “Bondye konn bay, men li pa konn separe.”

“God gives but doesn't share."

Farmer translated this as "God gives us humans everything we need to flourish, but he's not the one who's supposed to divvy up the loot."  That charge was laid on us."  Some of the things I've seen here... you have no idea.  I've had the same thoughts at times: Why, God?  Maybe the Haitians are right.  Maybe it's up to us to makes things right, to make God's Kingdom come.

One story told of a pregnant woman who came to a hospital (not Farmer's) with malaria.  The woman needed blood and couldn't afford it, so she was denied.  In tears, her sister cried out: “Tout moun se moun!”  Literally "All people are people” or as the author translated, “We’re all human beings."  A simple obvious statement, with great impact.

What people are we ignoring?  All people are people.

Haiti Truck-It List Cont.

-learn how to make a kite

-ride/drive a moto (Love you, Papa.  Being safe.)

-go to a Haitian dance club

-go to the movies

-watch a birth

buying something from market without help-check

carrying something on head without my hands-in progress

Prie

Please being praying for my future plans in Haiti.  Bondye konn tout bagay!

Loue

I've been learning so much about the Neighbors Project this week!  I will tell you about it on my blog on Saturday.   So many ideas swirling in my head!  Get ready for something huge, DeBary!

-Ti Blan