Yesterday, we all piled into Renate’s little SUV to go the 5:00 mass at the old cathedral in town. It turned out to be the law school graduation as well. Everyone here, including the poorest, are always very clean and neatly dressed in attractive clothing. I wore a sleeveless top and R. warned me that the priest might refuse me communion, as had once happened to her. However, there were a few women with bare arms and one even with a stunning yellow halter top chiffon type dress and very high heeled sandals to match. That is unusual, but I didn’t see any eyes askance. The Haitians may be too polite for that.
So cameras snapped, the graduates and ushers wore fancy little corsages, and the entrance procession with the professors and graduates in full academic regalia was solemn and proud. I must say dignified bearing seems innate. All the undergraduates, mostly men, wore suits. None of us had a camera, unfortunately. The bishop was there, the mass long and the singing divine. A chorus of boys and mostly girls had processed in, all in blue suits with bright chartreuse-yellow shirts, neatly pressed. The choir of about 30 or 40, from age 5 to mid-teens, sang beautifully and swayed rhythmically during each song. The beat was that of local music, their voices slightly less nasal than those I heard in Africa. The whole congregation sang lustily as well, including the men, in lovely harmony. I wondered if the row behind us were choir alumni.
The mass was in French, with a little Creole, and perhaps because many uneducated people don’t speak French, the words were clearly enunciated, so much was understandable. For the graduates, there are no jobs. But they like learning. A lawyer whom R. knows works as a receptionist. B&B Betty’s daughter went to school in the US at some point, perhaps high school, and was aghast at the students’ lack of respect for education and teachers. Here both are treasures.
I have often thought of writing an article for some newsletter (Maryknoll or high school) about why the US needs immigrants. Not to do them a favor, but to help return our society to a more respectful, appreciative level. In the high school where I worked, there were a few dozen immigrants and they were invariably polite, wore school clothes that different from play clothes, valued their education, and used good grammar. In fact, one student from Nigeria told me that in his school, if one did not use proper grammar, he or she had to kneel in front of the class. Not a practice I would endorse but it speaks to the importance of standards.
That is a downside of education here, where corporal punishment is still allowed and even encouraged by parents, some at least. At home, respect is also emphasized and a child who does not interrupt his activity, even if watching TV if he has one, when an adult enters the home to greet him or her is reprimanded. For elementary and high school, students wear uniforms, always clean and neat. Usually a plain colored skirt or jumper or pants for the boys and a brightly colored blouse or shirt, often yellow or lime green.  |
| Jianna with students from the on-campus elementary school |
In our college class one day, I was giving examples of embarrassment and they happened to involve girls. One of the women called out for some examples for boys. I asked the group and the guys came up with going to school in short pants or torn sneakers would be a cause for shame. In fact, in our class the women often wear dress or casual flats and the men dress shoes. I was surprised at how many do not wear jeans or sneakers.
People are also not left alone, much to R.’s consternation when she lived in Fondwa. An introvert and bibliophile, if she sat alone to read, soon someone would come and sit on the ground next to her, then another on the other side. If you sit apart, the assumption is that something is wrong. Once, during a raging hurricane when she lived alone, two people actually climbed the mountainous terrain to her house to bring her candles and water and see that she was ok.
Below is a typical scene on a beautiful day as well as some local color!
  | ||
| a nice view of the guest house where we live; clothes are drying on the 2nd floor porch
|
