My friend, Kevin, needed to buy 25 kites for the kids at the orphanage where he volunteers. He figured that as a brown person, I would be able to negotiate for a better price from the street vendors than he would. I tactfully did not mention that aside from being white, he does not speak any languages that the street vendors might know and despite his military appearance, is a big softie, liable to pay the first price demanded, without hesitation. I agreed to help him.
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| Kite buying on Rue Panamerican |
We drove to the corner with the chicken wire fence where the vendors display their kites. I told Kevin to stay put in the car and jumped out to start negotiations. I usually don't like negotiating, but it's different when it's someone else's money I'm playing with. And I usually don't hang out on the street corners of Port-au-Prince, surrounded by guys on the street, but it's different when there's a conspicuous security-type sitting in the car behind me.
I had fun! I negotiated with the kite guy, got some commentary from an old man with a smattering of teeth, then negotiated with the string man. I'm sure I was royally ripped off, but Kevin got his kites and these guys had a good weekend sale.
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| The only thing I can tell you is that the red pipes are horns. |
The next day, new boss (Martin), Kevin, and I drove up through the southern mountains to get out of the city and breathe some piney air. I love the twisty drive up there. We got out at treehouse-like bar/lounge place owned by an acquaintance. A RaRa band showed up out of nowhere for what I can only imagine is pre-Easter-voodoo thing.
After a while, we took a stroll along a ridge to have a look around. Life up in these mountains is agricultural. The produce is wonderful, but the land is not the easiest to cultivate.
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| See the person in the red shirt? We walked down there to check out the view and found some boys flying kites. |
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| Kevin, and the kid in charge of the kite. |
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