Eaten by sharks

I haven’t been going to the beach every day. With the visitors we go to Caye Jacmel. It is farther than the beach that is walking distance from the home. We take the back of a pickup truck. We sit along the beach on plastic tables and chairs. I walk across, I take pictures. We bump into other people we know. I only know the boys and staff at the home and the teachers from the school and a small handful of neighbor boys who live in a tent. Yet everywhere I go we still run into somebody somewhere. I always hear my name. I love the small town feel, I didn’t think 20,000 was small but here everyone knows everyone. I’m always surprised to hear my name. Nobody seems to stay at home in the city. We bump into half the boys from the home and everyone else we know at the beach on the weekend. Small town love it is.

While visitors are in we get 3 meals a day. I’m happy for non Haitan meal and a third meal even, it’s a good change. We hear a local artist at dinner. He plays his guitar and has a folksy voice. His first song is about getting to Florida. He says they’d rather be eaten by the sharks if they get kicked out then return here to Haiti. he says he is not like them, he will never leave beautiful Jacmel. I wonder how many people are like him. I buy his CD.