Hang time

I was playing basketball one Tuesday afternoon with some sixth and seventh grade boys, wearing my jean skirt which does not have the best mobility for jump shots. Carl, one of the seventh grade boys, has started to say s— every time he missed the ball. I gave him a talking to and explained that it is not a polite word to use. After our little talk, I was going in for a drive and tripped, scartching up my knee and hand pretty badly. As I was hunching over, I was mumbling sh. Carl asks me “Quoi Madame, qu’est-ce que tu veux dire, sh–?” (What Madame, what do you want to say sh– ?) No Carl, you already said it enough today for the both of us. Walking back to the school office, all the kids were running up asking “Let me look, let me look”. One little fourth grade boy slightly lifted up my jean skirt to take a peak at my knee. But fortunately now it’s all healed up and I’m back on the court. If you hear Haitians play basketball, you’ll hear oh mon cheri, Out! Out!, Walking, Walking and now they have picked up double dribbling which they pronounce, doorbell- I was a little bit confused the first time I heard it.

About biffy317

This blog is about my year in Haiti. I came here not speaking the language, not having a clear idea of what I will be doing to a small, impoverished country in the middle of a crisis. Haitians have A LOT of sayings and one of them is Piti gren fe gro pie bwa, which means a little seed makes a big tree. I hope that my time here will be fruitful and also to participate and observe as Haiti grows and flourishes as well. Seeds need a lot of time, a good foundation, and help from others to grow.
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