The construction of the Massabiel school garden is a tri-lingual affair. Kelda and Tobias are getting confident enough with their Kreyol to initiate the first doings on the designated spot -- the clearing of rocks and breaking of earth. I am pitifully aware now of the need to speak Kreyol, and i try in haste to double remember the words i've learned on the trip up the mountain. Mwen gen parle Kreyol... I want to speak Kreyol. My self-admonishment is abated a bit by the coming of a man who lived in the Dominican Republic as a youth, and thus speaks Spanish. He skirts around my asking his name, but our mutual language allows us to share a lot. He tells me how hard it was for a young Haitian man to find work in the Dominican Republic, and how much hate he encountered from his fellow islanders. So he came home to Ayiti be with his people, at the expense of even less work to be had.
"Y el gobierno hace nada..." The government does nothing to help the people, he says, a sentiment i will hear echoed at least twice daily from then on.
Story continues here.