On Sushi and Foosball

Last Friday, our deputy country rep surprised me by inviting me to go out for a drink with her husband and her.  She is a smart, friendly person but she comes from the Haitian aristocracy, has two kids, and seems very proper: what on earth were we going to talk about?  I knew she invited me out because of my limited social life and, grateful, I resolved to be charming and entertaining.  Or, if nothing else, not utterly embarrass myself.

They picked me up at around 7:30 and we drove to an old hotel at the top of the hill that survived the earthquake unscathed.  It had an air of [modest] former glory.  You might not even know it was a hotel when you pull up.  The lobby was a small alcove with an unattended desk.  Black and white photos of movie stars and politicians I didn't recognize haphazardly adorned the walls.  No staff were visible.  We made our way through the building and came out onto a huge terrace overlooking all of Port-au-Prince.  The view was amazing.  This was undoubtedly where the movie stars and politicians sipped their gimlets and chatted with aspiring dictators!

The hotel was a maze of tiled stairways leading to various levels of the terrace.  I followed my hosts down a few stairs, wondering what glamorous site awaited me next, to find myself.....in an open air sports bar.  A sports bar!  Complete with flat screen TVs showing American football, pool tables, loud music, and raucous groups of friends letting loose on a Friday night.  I was stunned.

I recovered enough to scrap my plans to behave like a lady, ordered a beer, and proceeded to gape.

At one point, after we had met up with a friend of theirs, my deputy country rep's husband, a mild-mannered be-speckled man, turned to me with ill-suppressed eagerness and asked if I played foosball.  We ended up playing several heated rounds with all the trimmings: bravado, dramatic wins, miraculous recoveries, and high fives.  Then our food arrived: sushi!  Sushi, I was told with a wink and, I'm sure, to the surprise of most Haitians, was invented by Haitians!  A few of the rolls we ordered came wrapped not in seaweed, but in fried banana.  The resulting sweetness was a lovely compliment to spicy tuna and salty prawn.

I had such effortless fun that I forgot where I was entirely.  It was only when my hosts wistfully spoke of the days when it was possible to [safely] go dancing at a club that the illusion of normalcy wavered for a minute.