sounds of haiti

Disclaimer: This post is not so much a typical update as it is a random observation.

It is never completely silent here in Haiti.

I woke up early this morning and thought about the fact that now that I’ve really adjusted here, there’s sort of a rhythm to this place. Perhaps it’s cheesy, but in my mind it’s almost like there’s a constant soundtrack playing on repeat…I’ll try and explain.

It begins each morning, oh let’s say around 5:30 when the noises trigger my tossing and turning in my bunk bed. Outside my window there’s a constant chirping of birds and bugs of different sorts, but around this time is when the roosters apparently come to life. The play button has been pressed. From here it progresses, and sometime within the next hour you can expect to hear the toddlers and older kids wake up. You never know exactly what that sound will be; sometimes the kids are crying (about who knows what at 6:30 in the morning) and other times they wake up with an energy and enthusiasm that I’m not sure I have ever personally experienced so early. On a good morning the kids are singing, chanting, or spurting our random bits of Creole that I unfortunately cannot translate. The neighborhood seems to come to life with the banging and clanging of people cooking, cleaning, and preparing for the day ahead.

The next predictable sounds follow when we make our daily walk from the house we sleep at to the main house. This is when you hear the sounds of cautious steps and slipping gravel, indicating the inexperience of American girls in flip flops trekking down steep slopes also known as Haitian roads (accompanied by occasional laughter at near wipeouts and close calls). Cars and motorcycles honk and politely toot their horns to let you know they’re coming, and in this country pedestrians yield to vehicles. They don’t have the triangle signs like we do…you just quickly learn. And most of all, you hear the sounds of greeting and good mornings in Creole from just about everyone you pass. It’s an enjoyable little hike.

At the main house, we joke about how we hardly notice the perpetual sound of crying babies anymore. It’s actually more noticeable if we come to the house and it’s quiet, and only then do we wonder if something is wrong. On the second floor behind every door you hear kids wailing, screaming, throwing tantrums of various sorts, and just being kids. We take a kid every hour to the third floor where the balcony is, and on the balcony you hear just about anything. Sometimes it’s volunteers “oohing” and “aahing” over their babies, laughing as they tickle their bellies, and praising their attempts at standing or walking. Other moments you’ll hear the voice of volunteers scolding their children and reminding them not to fling large objects at other babies or eat smashed particles of raisins and other unidentified foods off the ground.

The ringing of the bell always indicates a meal, and mealtimes are surprisingly sometimes the quietest parts of the day. It’s around the table that we rejuvenate and rest from the constant attention it takes to care for children. You can still hear the kids on the floor above us, but like I said…we hardly notice it anymore.

At the end of the day, it’s chaotic commotion on the second floor. You can tell from the noise that there’s something about getting ready for bed that makes the babies go crazy. We walk into the babies’ room after dinner to grab a kid and watch the sunset, and it’s one of the most rowdy places I’ve ever encountered. Nannies are snatching up toddlers every which way as they change their diapers, powder their little bodies, and throw them into some jammies. The other toddlers are running around and fighting for their lives in there. It’s pretty comical.

As the night winds down, we’re driven back to our house and always greeted by the excited sounds of jovial kids in the playground. It’s a different noise being around kids who are actually old enough to talk back to you and say hello or ask you what your name is. It’s a warm, sweet ending to the day being welcomed by such bright and cheerful faces.

Now I sit on my bed, and again we’re back to the beginning…the constant chirping of birds and bugs of various sorts outside my window. We’ll turn on the box fan in here to muffle out some of the noise, and I’ll fall asleep to its familiar hum. Day in and day out, with some exceptions and additions of course, it sounds just about the same. And that is the best that I can describe the unique and delightful soundtrack of Haiti.

We’ll end with a bonus track:

It started pouring down rain again this afternoon, and I mean it poured hard. It creates a different mood on the balcony, and the sound of the downpour is actually kind of powerful. It was ironic because I read a part in Job this morning that related perfectly:

“At this my heart pounds and leaps from its place. Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice, to the rumbling that comes from his mouth. He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven and sends it to the ends of the earth. After that comes the sound of his roar; He thunders with his majestic voice. When his voice resounds back, he holds nothing back. God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding.”

–Job 37:1-5

On that note, good night everyone! Love you all..