Act II

Sunday:

We decided to join the clinic crew at the local Baptist church, where we would be conducting a health clinic on Wednesday. Here we are, walking along the main road from Cap Haitien through Morne Rouge. I think, if you followed the road all the way, you would end up in Port-au-Prince, but I could be wrong. The cars and trucks in Haiti all honk as they pass pedestrians. I think it's their way of being considerate. 

As in Move it, or I'll mow you down!

Our favourite Haitian pig, in his favourite grazing spot. Note the muddy patch he created to the left of the photo. Haitian pigs know how to have a good time! 

See, cows everywhere. 

It's very sweet how the people dress up in their finest clothes for church, just like we do at home. And some of their clothes were very fine indeed, especially the little girls. Satiny dresses and matching socks, hair impeccably braided and tied off with barrettes. Even though their homes are probably impoverished with dirt floors, they have pride in their appearances and show respect to their Lord. They also dress up for health clinics.

The sermon was amplified to an ear-splitting degree. There is nothing like a fiery Baptist sermon delivered in Creole. Lisa and I both commented afterwards how we noticed a rhythm and melody to his speech. Check out the Christmas ornaments and flowers hanging from the ceiling. 

The gang, after the service. 

Me, with Santo, in front of a business. 

Love the murals on the storefronts. 

There was a birth clinic that had a sign out front showing a lady, lying on her back, with her feet up in stirrups. A little too descriptive, perhaps? Sadly, I missed the photo op. 

Rubbish, rubbish, everywhere. 

Pride in appearance does not extend to the neighbourhood. 

On our way home from church some locals asked the doctors to come and check out the new health clinic. It was owned, not surprisingly, by a Cuban. Many clinics in Haiti are owned by Cuban doctors. The problem for the people is not lack of clinics, it is being able to pay for the medical care, which is too expensive for people who don't have enough to eat. 

Inside the clinic. 

Tile set in concrete. A clever way to use up scraps of tile. 

Lori, take note of this. 

A cemetery, close to our clinic. 

I wanted to go in, because it looked well-kempt and interesting, but rumour has it that you have to be accompanied by the Haitian caretaker. Which probably means money. So I didn't. 

Home again, home again, jiggety jig. 

Washing drying on the hedge, a common practice.

Haitians are big on laundry, which is usually done by hand in a most scrupulous manner.

And then dried on the hedge.