First, I should explain why am so slow in posting. We have been without power for most of every day since I got here. And with no power, there is no internet. And when there is internet, 50 people are trying to share it. So, that is that. I will probably have much more time to post when the kids start school again, in a week, so don't worry, you'll get to hear everything eventually.
You're probably wondering about the title of this post. Well, hair is a good way go through my first day here.
- In the morning, I was pleased to find that it isn't actually that hard to wash my hair by scooping water from the five-gallon bucket in our shower with a plastic bowl. Sometimes water comes out of the faucet, sometimes not, so we keep two big buckets filled for when it doesn't. I was worried that my hair would be totally unmanageable here, and almost cut it really short, but I chickened out. And I'm glad I kept it longish, because...
- Haitian people, children especially, are fascinated by my hair. I was told that people here would "love my hair". I was not expecting to be stared at and constantly petted. The girls here at the orphanage have been brushing, braiding, and otherwise arranging my hair since about three hours after I got here. I end up with a lot of princess Leia buns, as well as some interesting braids.
- We walked up the hill to the tent city that is just a few hundred yards from our building, to bring people clothes Mark and Marsha collected from their church. As we walked back, Mark stopped to talk to someone he knew, and the small posse of 3, 4, and 5-year olds following us paused for a moment, and then sent their bravest member forward to touch my shirt before scampering back. He looked very pleased with myself, and when I turned around and smiled he came up, grabbed my hand, and motioned the rest of his little band to come closer. I bent down to ask his name, and suddenly found myself sitting on the ground, covered with eight kids who were each marveling at a handful of my hair. I vigorously employed the two creole phrases I had learned by that point, "How are you?" and "What's your name?", and I pretty quickly caught on that the word for hair is "cheve".
- Later that afternoon, I was up on the roof or the orphanage. I will post pictures when the internet is more reliable, but for now trust me that the mountains and the ocean are beautiful. It's incredibly hard to take in the sight of the whole city laid out over the valley and harbor, so I've been mostly looking down into the courtyards and alleys that are right below our walls. There are chickens everywhere, the occasional really cute goat, the dogs that all look alike, every once in a while a cat, doves, and one pig. Also, a lot of people. But there's one tiny yard in particular that is always bursting with kids. The first day they saw me watching them, they all turned to wave and shout 'bel cheve', pretty hair, at me. At some point I plan to go meet them and inform them that my name is actually Cecelia, but for now, bel cheve will work. Every time they see me on the roof they yell and wave, and one boy always holds up something for me to see - first a chicken, then a cat, then his baby brother. It always makes me think of the part in the Lion King where they hold up baby Simba.
- Lastly, I started to learn the girls names the first night, and was confused in the morning to find that not only had they changed their clothes (i was expecting that one), but their hair as well. The girls are constantly braiding and rebraiding their hair, it seems like they each have it a new way every three days or so. They haven't tried to put cornrows in my hair yet, but I think that's probably inevitable. Sometimes they braid each others' hair, but a lot of them do it themselves, which boggles my mind, as I can't even braid my own ponytail without getting really confused, much less braid zig-zag patterns into my head with no mirror.
Love, Cecelia
