Out and Aboot

This weekend I went to the 6th International Jazz Festival of Port-au-Prince at the Karibe Hotel and a mixer at the Canadian Embassy to raise money for a local school.

rear of the Hotel Karibe

The concert was a great time.  I met Ambassador Merten and his lovely wife, Susan.  Both of them really seem to love Haiti, despite the daunting problems the country faces.  After the Ambassador said a few remarks, I saw a couple of bands play, Jed Levy Quartet and a Mexican jazz band called Aguamala.  You can see a sample of what JLQ played below

The music was great and a welcome relief from the tumult of traveling, but I spent most of my time trying to meet people and make friends from the Embassy and the NGO community.  I am always amazed to find oases of luxury and comfort that almost whisk me back to America where cocktails, appetizers, dollars, and electricity are all plentiful.

In order to get to the mixer at the Canadian Embassy, I had to take a shuttle from our embassy to a neighborhood in Petionville called Morency.  Even though the distance could not be more than 15 miles, it took over an hour to get there because the one improved road is in abysmal condition and the dirt roads are covered in rocks, potholes, and at steep inclines.  Since we weren't on the list and my colleague who was driving me is black (black Americans are often mistaken for Haitians in Haiti and are not afforded many of the same privileges as whites here), we had to get special permission from our northern neighbors to enter even though we had our badges with us.  I still had loonies from my trip to Canada and I tried to exchange those for drink tickets, but was initially denied.  "You're telling me I can American dollars or Haitian Gourdes here, but not the Canadian dollar at the Canadian embassy?" And with that her resistance collapsed under the intensity of my penetrating logic.

Strangely but unsurprisingly, the Americans outnumbered the Canadians at their own event by a two-to-one ratio and consequently English predominated, but it didn't diminish the pleasantness of the event even though there were two too many speeches.  Since there was another party to go to, we couldn't linger and drove back down to the embassy for another slice of Americana: beer pong.  The only difference is we play with Presidente (Dominican) or Prestige (Haitian and my preference) beer.  Everyone had fun, but since our curfew is midnight and I shouldn't be breaking or bending rules until I have a clear idea of what they are, I decided to go back home by 11:45.