Grocery Shopping in Haiti

One of the things I get to do here on the NVM campus is to manage the kitchen. This week we have been feeding about 130 people a day, so it can be quite a task especially since there is no Sams Club or Costco to run to and buy bulk items. The other night for dinner, 96 cans of tuna were opened. Too bad there is no bulk food to be purchased here. I also get to decide our menu and do the grocery shopping. I really enjoy the grocery shopping. It gives me a chance to leave the "island", as some of us have dubbed the NVM campus, once a week. Sometimes Aaron comes along and we have a "date" of sorts. Other times I drive a few others along. Although the nearest grocery store is only 13 miles, the trip takes at least an hour each way over dirt, gravel, and paved roads. I really enjoy the trip even though it is about a 4 hour ordeal. When I drive to the store I feel like I am on a little adventure. Driving in Haiti is fun! Cars, people and animals all converge upon any and all available road space with what seems like mass chaos but in reality is like an unspoken organically flowing dance. The speeds are much slower and the scenery always vivid and exciting. I guess I would say driving in one of my guilty pleasures here in Haiti. 

Typical traffic on the roads

Driving behind a UN tank... a pretty common site around here

With all the groceries we buy, we spend a lot of money at Belmart. In fact, one time the manager took a photo of our total amount spent on the register to send to his boss. Belmart is run by two Dominican brothers and they like to make us speak in Spanish when we go in, which is getting harder with each day I learn Creole. Its like the Creole goes in my brain and replaces the Spanish. 

Belmart!

Painted advertisements in the parking lot

Some of our groceries

Our baggers

Loading our 5 carts full of groceries into the truck

 I have only seen a handful of Haitian women ever drive here- and I have never seen another white woman drive. A week ago I drove to the grocery with a truck full of ladies... not a single guy among us. As I exited the store I noticed our front tire was very low... nearly flat. I knew we wouldn't make it the whole way back and I remembered a place nearby that I could get air. Not like at home where there is a gas station on every corner with air machines. No, this is just a guy on the side of the road with a air compressor and hose. So I drove up to the guy, got out and asked in Creole if he could please fill my tire with air. The guy first looked at me stupified, then at the truck full of blan women. After a few moments of silence I repeated my question and he finally spoke, "YOU speak Creole?" I told him I did, a little, and really needed air in my tire. He turned to the other guys all sitting around the air compressor and told them that all these white women speak Creole. I guess we were an anomoly. They all stared. I turned and walked back to the truck and waited for the shock to wear off and the guy to fill our tire. I think he was still so shocked that he forgot to overcharge me for being blan. 

 We drove back to Chambrun playing "name the artist" to the 80's songs on the one station (98.1 in case you ever get to Haiti) that plays American music. One of the songs was a Milli Vanilli song... and I was the only one in the car who knew it... wow am I getting old!