je t'aime haiti

Port au Prince

The first days here have been amazing.  Even getting around is a challenge, which I seem to thrive on. I found the most inspiration in my long walks around Delmas; studying the beautiful African faces, women toting bins and baskets on their heads. I blend here (at least until I speak). The only functioning cafe is Epi d'Or, a casual sandwich cafe and bakery chain. I tried the macepi today, which reminded me of the cafeteria hamburgers in 5th grade.

After I walked down to an intersection of Rue Delmas, I turned into a long market of street vendors, mostly women. They were selling everything from soap to onions and bananas. I passed a few slums along the way. The poverty here is deep and overwhelming. My host in Delmas, Madame Marie, and her husband are more middle class. If I walk just a few blocks, conditions get worse.  The streets are gapped and rubbled, broken houses and still in disrepair since the earthquake.

My favorite moment today as I turned back onto Autoroute Delmas, I stopped and chilled outside the parking lot of the Delimart. I watched as a woman pay a young man 100 goude for toting a big bin of shoes to sell. He haggled with her as sweat trickled down his face. She refused to give him more. After he left, she spit shine the shoes and hung several pairs up by their heels on the fence behind her. I realized I blended in and my Americaness was invisible to them. Freedom! 

Tuesday, Gonaives

At the rest stop. It is insanely hot here. There's a cafe which seems like a long process of nothing. People pay, take their ticket, and crowd around the lunch counter trying to get their order in. With all that going on, I decided to take a pass and ate the banana I had saved from breakfast.

Haitians are much more polite than Black Americans. We must be more stressed out and impatient with one another.  It seems as though Haitians are forever waiting, while we're forever rushing around.  An old woman was getting on the wrong bus. ' Madame!' I said. 'L'autobus est la!' pointing to our coach. I took her hand to help her step down and she thanked me in kreyol. 

I never just take anyone's photo without asking and I will usually give a bit of cash. Black folks everywhere are private, except maybe thugs and heaux. 

Cap Haitien

Sressed out, but exciting not knowing what the fuck or where. i arrived in cap haitien around 2:30pm and starving. i met a young man on the bus who recommended Tibukan cafe next to the sans souci bus station. there was a lot of activity and hustle getting off the bus. a handsome taxi driver and i bantered briefly, but he wanted to too much to get to Ruelle Nazon.

i had a nice lunch at tibukan with rum punch. by then it was getting close to 4:30pm and i still had to figure out where rouelle nazon was. i hopped a tap tap, which seemed to go quite a way into town. everyone was so cool, even with my basic french. i got off and the street wasn't marked with signs or numbers, i walked up, realizing that the neighborhood was a favela that spiraled up into the hillside. i stopped at N226 (a building with a number) and messaged my host sherry.

sherry was an iranina-medical student, i learned. who had lived in cap haitient for a year working as a midwife. she was engaged to a young haitian, joz. they rented out his small flat in nazon to tourists. this gave travellers cheap accomodation and joz a source of income. the thing was. nazon was a ghetto. 

that explained why sherry was a bit earnest in her communication. sherry was preparing white travellers

for a haitian ghetto experience. 

by 6pm was getting into twilight. i was getting agita that if i was lost i needed to figure out a plan b. think in french! find a hotel? fuck! i sat there wringing my hands as i heard a motorcycle approach. a strikingly handsome young man stopped in front of me. 

he held out a piece of paper with my name on it, 'mslisa?' he asked,

'what the fuck?!' i responded, with my american coming out. i was so relieved. ' joz?'

' no, je suis johny.' he said.

' man, black people.' i shook my head. 

' uh,...no english.' he said.

' 'd'accord, mon cher. je parle un peu francais,' i said. 

we rode up into the favela and he carried my suitcase. we walked up to the little flat and edelin, another host and local guide, was sitting outside on the balcony. he was a bit struck when he saw me. joz showed up shortly thereafter.

' we didn't know you were a black woman!' joz said. ' we are so happy to see you!'

we are so happy to see you. 

by now was a hot sweaty mess, but we hung out for awhile talking and made plans for edelin to take me to the citadelle the next day, i kept calling him izzy and he never corrected me. johny eventually had to leave. they said he's also a moto driver and guide if i need one.

awake! i can't sleep, but i'm tired. the people here are lovely, but it is a rough place, especially the mosquitoes. zika mosquitoes! i don't see them, but they see me. i'm probably wound up from the long bus ride, trying to connect with jose, and being a stranger here. my mind is spinning with thoughts and impressions of the day of how to make my money stretch or something i may have missed in port au prince. i think part of why benito was anxious to head back to delmas that afternoon making an excursion to the palace was that we were in the area of cite soleil, the largest and most violent ghetto in haiti. (i came to figure this out later). 

sometimes i feel like i'm navigating a dream in a black universe. 

citadelle
i woke up with a better attitude. the electricity was out. i learned that poor people don't have to pay for electricity, so the government conserves energy with rolling blackouts in the morning and evening.

edelin came by around 6:30am and we rode a moto off to breakfast. i had chicken with red sauce which was the best dish i've had here yet. from the restaurant we took a tap tap to milot about 30 minutes away. once there were got mobbed by a group young moto drivers, all jockeying for a customer. the amusing part was how they responded to me. 

' they think you're a beautiful woman. they all want to take you,' edelin said with a laugh.

' that's cute.' i said. ' i'm old enough to be their mother.'

i took a bathroom break. as my luck would have it my period had started. edelin worked it out with a good looking kid who smelled really nice. we rode 3 up on the moto, 30 minutes up to the visitor center. it was a stunning landscape of hillside jungle, coconut trees, the road dotted with shantys and small villages. from the visitor center we were greeted by more young men offering donkey rides, vendors (mostly women) selling handmade mortar and pestles and souvenirs. edelin worked it out with two young boys with a donkey, one to guide and one to lead. i rode while edelin followed behind on foot.

it was hot and i offered water to the boys guiding the donkey. the ride was cool, but i have a hard time being served when i travel. there is a kind of colonial mentality here of catering to anyone with a bit of money. i could have any child fetch me this or that for a dollar.

once to the top, i was hustled by the guides, a friend of edelin's, and the young boy who guided us through the citadelle. his english was modest, but i got the gist. he explained to edelin in kreyol that bricks used to build the structure were stained with cow's blood. the boy had the most stunning african face, but seemed profoundly sad and burdened. i asked edelin about that.

' poverty.' he said, a bit annoyed. ' struggle.' as if, you know in your heart what that is and how to endure it. 

the citadelle was vast with spiraling levels, an underground jail, canon rooms, and catacombs. other than  tikal it was one of the most extraordinary places i've ever seen. we were 900 meters up with spectacular views of the mountains and countryside. i could have stayed longer in wonder and meditation of the place, but it felt like i wasn't alone for a moment.

i decided to walk down and encouraged edelin to ride the donkey. he had a bit of a challenge trying to mount him, but he seemed to enjoy himself. the boys kept close to me; constantly watching my bag or my hands. (i realized that my day pack was conspicuous after that  and i've never used it again). they're hovering became tedious until i told them to move ahead of me.

 it would have been nice to walk alone in silence for awhile.

last night rosita plaited my hair. she had to comb my naps out, which are a problem because my hair is so long now. she took her time and i felt quite relaxed until a roach came flying at my face before disappearing into the sewer. i freaked out, although more surprise than fear. cholera! vermin death! i ran into the flat and put alcohol on a tissue and wiped my face. i sat back down and jokingly looked up as if to check for other flying vermin. rosita and i had a good laugh. haiti is exquisite, but i am fucking cool with the roaches.

johny walter

i hired johny, jose's neighbor, as my moto rider to cormier. it was a bout 30 minutes away over the hills of cap haitien. we hung out for a good while. talking in my broken french and he in his broken english. he needed to text his wife that he would be home soon, but his phone was dead. i offered to text her for him.

' j'taime!' i showed him.

he laughed awkwardly and shook his head. i asked him if everything was okay.

'it...it is difficult.' he said. i thought maybe he's alluding to the poverty they live in with four children. he told me a sad story about how his wife got pregnant with their first child when he was 24 and he didn't want the child in the streets without a father. so they got married, they stayed, and they had deborah and the twins. his parents didn't approve of his wife and rejected him for a long time.

' i needed the patience,' he said.

i went to the beach for a bit and when i came back he was gone. this concerned me a bit because jose mentioned he had done that to tourists before. so, i went looking for him and found him talking to a man that worked security. (in haiti security usually carry a rifle - in hotels, markets, and digicel shops).

' always tell a woman where you're going,' i said. 'i'm a foreigner here, yes but you must have  consideration.'

' i am sorry,' he said. ' this will not happen again.'

later i got him lunch and we left around 4:00pm and headed back to cap haitien. i paid him $20.00 for the day when we got back to nazon. i went into the courtyard of his house down the street, we were greeted by the children who by their reaction one would think i was michael jackson. i was  such a fascination to them. his wife said in kreyol that i looked tired and hungry. she was right. she was fussing at johny about his phone not working. he was holding one of the twins, gael, and for a moment he looked quite troubled; as though he was trying to figure something out. i took a beautiful shot of him and gael in that moment.

don't forget me.

at dinner he said he found me so interesting and thought of me all the time.

' do you think of me?'

'yes,' i said. ' i think you're interesting.'

'i knew that.'  he said. ' me too.'

' but you have a wife and children.'  i said.

we came back to rouelle nazon and we planned to go back to cormier. that's all i wanted to do - be in solitude and contemplation by the sea. in the morning i would get up early and sit on the platform of the house across the street. it was cooler there and i could see out onto nazon; houses and shantys stacked up into the hill. i would listen to the language and the women and occasionally someone would pass, 'bonjou.' they would say. one morning a couple was on their way to the church across from jose's place.

' bonjou, blanc. dominicaine?' the man asked.

'non,' i said. ' ma maman est blanc, je suis mulatte.'

johny and i did another excursion to cormier then another to san michel, which the boys told me about. that was an hour from cap haitien; a breathtaking ride through the valley surrounded by hills and through small \villages. we kissed for the first time there.  it was terribly sweet and awkward. we had to pay a small entrance fee and then went to look for a snack or drinks in the cafe near the beach. the man behind the counter had fruit juice which i sampled and could tell it had turned bad.

i gave johny some cash and he went to the street vendors. i sat and watched and listened for awhile. i saw him walking back; so tall and a bit awkward. he seems so gentle to me even from a distance. we sat and talked for hours as he ate a small container of lamdie.

' dave is cool.' he said, referring to his oldest son. ' sweet boy.'

he never spoke much about deborah; mostly the boys. that must be a cultural thing; that he knows what her fate will be in haiti.

' you have amazing eyes. light brown like mine.' i said. ' extraordinare.'

 it was getting close to 5:00pm when we left and we went back to rouelle nazon. i showered and chilled out on the balcony with rosita and the baby for awhile.  jose and edelin came by that evening as i had to pay jose for another few nights.

' so what is going with you and johny?' jose asked.

' yeah!' edelin said with a smile. ' you spend lot of time.'

'mmm, well he is a handsome man, very sweet...maybe in the next life. he has a wife.'

'maybe she is so not good for him,' edelin said. ' you are better.'

' i don't know about that, edelin. i'm different, just not haitian. i said i would help with the school fee for the babies because i can't pay him every day for the transport.'

' you would do that?' jose asked. ' that is so nice of you, lisa. wow.'

' i can try. he's a good man.'

'  i think maybe he is for you.'

i think maybe he is for you?  haitians make these allusions in their speech that sound poetic and almost like proverbs.  as i learn kreyol statements are full of aliterations : si m ta di kijan m santi m chak fwa m konnen m pral rankontre w. if i say how i feel every time, i know i'll meet you again.


johny + lisa (bonbagay)

one night after dinner at hotel picoulet, johny came back to the tiny flat with me. i was reluctant. then at one point he said to me, ' i am here.'  he was incredibly vulnerable and open in that moment. i closed the front door.

we went in the shower together. it was sweet and sensual. then just as we went for the bed, i heard his wife hollering outside the bathroom window in the alley adjacent to jose's place. all i heard was johny this and johny that and the hand-clapping of a black woman scorned.

we stopped. i scrambled to get my clothes on. ' you have to leave!' i said. 'go!'

' don't be afraid,' he said. 'she don't mean nothing.'

' no. you have to go!'

he got dressed and i scrambled to get my things together. as he went out, neighbors were already in the street and harriet, his wife was right outside the flat at the little gate, looking enraged and stressed out. rosita had by now posted up out on the balcony gate. she gestured for me to go inside and lock the door.

i stood there in the front room alone and for a moment very scared. i calmed myself down to get it together and think straight : the embassy is not in cap haitien. tell rosita to call jose and edelin right now. 

i opened the door. 'rosita!' i gasped. 'edelin and jose! telefon!' 

rosita sent each of them a text. she came inside and closed the door, ' c'est finis pour toi ici.' she said with a sigh.

i started to cry, but she calmed me down and told me not to worry, that there had been problems between them for a long time. (i could determine this by her tone and gesture).

jose and edelin arrived shortly after they got the call, they ran over from edelin's place. i was still rattled, but relieved they came.  even as they sat with me,  harriet continued carrying on down the street.

'she is a stupid woman.' edelin said. ' he took her because she got the baby. she was girl from the street. his parents did not approve of this thing. they say he can have the house, but they are finish with him.'

'yeah,' i said. ' he told me about that, but she's still his wife.'

' don't worry, lisa.' jose said. ' she always cause problem for him.'

edelin left to check on johny. i went outside and sat down. when he came back, he sat up on the balcony railing and chatted with rosita for awhile, listening to her retell what happened. 

' lisa, what go with you?' he asked finally. ' you are so quiet?'

' because i feel very bad.'

' don't worry, cherie.' he said. ' johny said to tell you he not himself right now. he so sad. he say to me he's going to stay with his neighbor and get drunk.'

i looked down the way and saw johny fussing with the gate to his neighbor's house. he looked beautiful in the dim light of the street. he said nothing and i said nothing.  at that point, i only wanted to be near jose and edelin.

it occurred to me later that in the chaos of that night the trajectory of my life had shifted.

i'm just getting this out in order to figure my shit out. today i was in love and feeling connected to johny. after having brunch with kamala i went to the market and got some insense. still high! at one point i sat in the car listening to ho hay. i belong to you, you belong to me my sweetheart...

when i got home i had a message from johny. we texted in french and he was having a problem with his voicemail not downloading. he mentioned recet and i told him to turn his phone and back on.

did he not understand reset?

at one point he went into a diabtribe that friends ask him when he will join me in the US. he doesn't brag, he said, but what should he tell them? he's only told jose and edelin.

this gave me pause. it's not up to me, i said. it depends on when you get your his visa and come here. i can't control the process in haiti or his own determination. i also think this was an indirect way of asking me when i'll bring him to the states. it was a bit strange; almost like a manipulation.

when i said it's up to him and his choice, he changed the subject.

what are you doing right now? 

at times i get this sense that he knows how to work me; that i like to talk and express feeling. i asked about the beautiful nadege story. he was with her for several years and before met harriet (he never mentioned harriet by name, only as the wife).  nadege was young, but harriet had the capacity for caring for the children. so he chose.

 i felt like i was hearing part of a story, not its entirety.

later during an exchange with edelin he said johny sometimes forwards my messages to either him or jose to help translate what i'm saying. the cat was out of the bag with that. first of all, i could be saying something private, that also feels like some corny haitian conspiracy to help johny keep me entangled. after learning about this, my love mania took a dip.

i found this out after telling edelin if johny isn't in miami by december i'll come back to cap haitien during my holiday break.

he said once that he watched me sleep at laurier one night. i was struck because i had watched him sleep. i wonder if he knew i did that and spun it to appeal to me? again to manipulate my affection for him? he is very sharp.

when i ask about lauren, he said simply 'i forget lauren'. which in his english means, ' i don't remember lauren.'

last sunday i heard him in my dream; running out of patience and asking for money. i also heard him with his wife; scheming ways to hustle the tourist women who find him attractive. i had two moments where i thought this was all bullshit : that the night of harriet's freak-out was a set-up and another at laurier, i felt my stomach turn as if to warn me about something.

but i went on, even with some degree of detachment. i wanted him. i had been on a high for days until sunday; everything came to a halt. some things he said didn't add up or i caught things in his messages.

' i understand you, fuck.....,' (running out of patience).

(translated from french). ' the young boys at picoulet ask me where is your wife? i say you went back to US. they said i should be with you, but i don't want to brag. what should i tell them?'

' what do you think?'

' lisa, i told you i don't want to brag. i haven't said anything to anyone except edelin and joz.'

'well, i hope you get your visa and get to miami by december. but anything you say is your choice.'

pause.

'what are you doing right now?'

it felt like a game, a manipulation. what was he trying to get at? i wonder if he's just desperate on some level.

but the dream revealed what i have been resistant to accept. it's all been a scam to help his family survive. there was a moment at laurier where i referred to harriet as the big woman, 

' who said that?' he asked.

'can you give me the 250 for the children? he asked as we laid in bed one night.  'this is important.'

'no i can't, mon cher. i have to things to take care of. i need a new car.'

maybe he prostitutes himself out when he can other than being a moto driver, to help support the family. from what edelin told me harriet was a prostitute herself at one time and he often uses the word 'bitch'. which in kreyol means woman.

'i've had many bitch here,.' then he catches himself. ' you too...many, many, but now only one.' ( so what are you saying? i'm a bitch as well?').

' you be a bitch for me....me too, for you.' (what the fuck is talking about? submission? who wants that?) 

i came to realise his statements were a mix of immaturity and street life filtered through broken english. he he couldn't express himself in a more articulate way. 

the haitian continues. he never gives up, he never backs down. we are destiny. we are the same. we are like a garden and our communication is like the rain. dude, what? who even talks like that?

i had a very hard day at work yesterday. i was so stressed out. i got home and chatted with edelin, then copied my messages to johny.

hello, ma belle. i was happy to get news from you, but stressed that you cry about job. 

mesi anpil, mon amour. don't worry. je suis une fanm tres forte. how are you?

i'm good, but i miss you alot. please don't cry. 

he can be sweet and compassionate of me. there are moments when i feel he is absolutely my person in the world. then i step back. it's a continuum. i am curious to go back during winter break and see what's up.

today edelin told me he spent most of the day with johny. he said he laments for me all the time. edelin drank with him a bit, but johny got a bit fucked up. where is my lisa?

i tell johny, just be cool man. she's coming back december for holidays. it's only a few months.

wednesday

at times i feel as if things are fucked. i meet this lovely man who understands me, but he's in haiti and i'm here in cali; a shithole of stress, privilege, and hypocrisy.  i get so bored with nichols, particularly busy-body lynn, and emails targeting those of us who smoke. go here, no go there, no go here. really what they want is for us to not smoke anywhere around the building.

lynn is a drag. she's asked me twice now about when julie is coming back; fishing to see if there's some conspiracy we're up to. i jokingly call her the nichols police. she seems to have two switches : her health or in other people's business. her second query today about julie i ignored and went on chatting with sarah.

then there's stress around work, particularly working with christopher.  i  can't get anything done and he volleys everything back to me - even my words. in the time he wastes with his nit-pickery, he should just do the shit himself. it's becoming tedious to me and i doubt i can continue on like this.

alas, i need my fucking job to live. i have to save money to go back to haiti over winter break. that's my biggest goal right now.

i finally connected with sherry. jose was stressed out and missing her. i think, some days are overwhelmingly hard and he wonders if it will work, if he will be with her again. she's a medical student without a steady income so this makes petitioning for him difficult. she mentioned she's not in the best living situation but has to stay so that she has a fixed address.

she said airbnb has suspended them hosting travelers.  she wasn't suprised really; she received complaints about the water situation and communication issues with edelin and his english. she said he was stubborn and not open to learning to improve it (true).  sherry was sad about the whole thing because this allowed jose to make some money.

' americans are so high maintenance,' she said.

' i know. i could tell by how you wrote to me.'

' i love jose, but there are moments when i think the whole thing is a scam. you know, logic is rational. love is irrational.'

' girl, i've had the same thought about johny.'

' this whole thing has made my life harder, but also better.'

'yes!'

les raisins de la raison

johny and i continue, through fits and starts, unstable wifi connection, and blackouts. we chat every morning and evening during the week. weekends as well, if his phone is charged and when he has downtime from running the moto taxi.

at this point the plan is for his sister milande to petition for his visa. i had been anxious to start looking for a job in miami after j-term, but realized this was impetuous. i have no idea how long his visa process will take. there are many variables to consider and i need to maintain my stability. i want to stay with PLTS through one more academic year.

i've been also struggling with the black dog. some days are better than others. i think it's a combination of stress around work, the uncertainty of what lay ahead - with the seminary, with johny. i panicked a bit last week because i was getting less email than usual.  i'm feeling quite vulnerable these days.

i didn't have a good  session last week. a new clinical student kept bringing up my fee, when i needed to sort things out. she added to my stress. i wrote to the clinic about the issue, but haven't heard back. do i go to session tomorrow? i need to maintain therapy for my own well-being, it's been hard reconciling ma's death, demands around work, and the situation with johny.  i always seem to choose the hard way through and to things.

of course i get a message from carl on fB. i messaged him that i met a man in haiti. i don't know why he still pops up - 12 years later. i suspect with his hand out, which was usually the case. maybe he senses something. when i see pictures of him now he looks small, tattered, and beat. as though in all these years he has not grown at all.

tired. sometimes i feel like i can't catch up. work is one continuous, fascinating process of figuring shit out and making it happen either on my own or helping someone else.  today i was in a meeting and caught myself deep in thought about johny and smiled. it was as though my spirit was someplace else.

' last tuesday....a woman call me for moto taxi. after, she say me -' johny i love you'. i do nothing. no! baton chocolat dead because i only see you. your spirit like the police with the control. only for you, bb. mwen renmen ou.' 

he cracked me up with that. i mean, okay - sure.  i'm not there, his actions are his decision. maybe he's all for real? it could be.

i don't want you bring the big bag - no. come back, please. i need your presense. to see you, to touch you, spend all time. just to come back, bb. 


i'm feeling burned out and hope i can make it to winter break. my work seems like all the endless catching up to people who constantly change shit up then being held accountable to catching each change trying to make everyone happy. never let a detail fall through the crack, even when i don't know what that detail is.  wait...what?  i suppose it's the nature of academic administration.

i sleep alright these days. i still wake up in the middle of the night with dust allergies. grrr! but i solider on. this weekend was hard because i was feeling mad stress around work, planning this trip to haiti (cost, flights, otome), getting my errands done, and cleaning the apt (julie doesn't do this because she can't manage to get off her ass and clean the kitchen and bath and yet she's home all the time. i'm starting to resent this paying her equal rent, but in the end got over it. a clean space trumps equity).  i was also feeling anxious about johny and the wife. eek! everything it seems is on me and i don't have the capacity for it.

it's clear to me something is underlying their ridiculous pandering to CLU. i suspect they're probably insecure about their own positions. 30 days to improve when I'm doing a kick-ass job? i wanted to leave well; to stay consistent and stable into the move and complete another academic year. i've been giving consideration to those where none is given in return.

it's really a no-win situation. going on and on about 2s when i go above and beyond to bring order to chaos and make them look good to CLU.  the timing is perfect after planning my trip back to haiti over winter break. great! well, it is what it is.  my disposition will now change.

i got home and chatted with julie, but she has little capacity for real-life, work-related stress. she was as supportive as she could be. she lapsed into her own frustrations about school and switching majors, which at times she appears almost on the verge of tears. i try to listen and support, but she gets stuck in her loop. everyone is in collusion against her to make her own decisions, which have no guarantees. sooner or later this all ends and she has to get a job.

she mentioned taking a holiday job at the lego store in SF, but i highly doubt she'll follow-through. still, i offered to help with her CV and resume if she needed.

i was feeling uncertain about johny cakes after sending him money to help with moto taxi maintenance.  i've sent him $ 200.00 within 4 months. the back-up was supposed to help with the phone situation, which is somewhat better. i told him i was counting on him to find a good price on a guesthouse. he messaged me today that the owner of one place told him to wait and that he knows the haitian system and doesn't want him to ask for more.

yeah, well. she didn't respond to my last message. i'll try to book with her later, but i doubt she'll accept it because of johny being haitian.  as always it's all on me to make shit happen. i'm burned out with that, but i made a choice to go back.

i've been having weird dreams. i had one where i was back at laurier with johny and i felt that same sinking sense in the pit of my stomach i had one night. i was baffled as to what that was about. i was safe and he was sweet. i had another where my face was covered with what looked like bruises.

maximum bad, some well

i haven't written here in a long time. i've been putting maximum energy into work, to improve the situation with christopher only to have leslie flip and nick-pick. i've come to see the bigger picture that i'm simply caught in the cross-hairs of behind-the-scenes corporate institutional politics and uncertainties about the seminary move to downtown berkeley.

things just don't jive despite my best efforts and good works; going above and beyond to transition to webex, to improve processes. i come out of one meeting, beat down by christopher or another only to be blind-sided by leslie. it's a no-win situation. after that i decided i can only control my attitude and how i deal with it. that was it. i started applying to positions in the southeast. what am i fighting for?
i don't want to stay at PLTS through this move or even in the bay area with its soul-crushing cost of living. for what?

sunday

well, monday evening and i'm off. i'm feeling alright, if at times mad doubt crowds my mind. what am i doing? what am i going into? is this relationship even sustainable? senay contacted me to hang out and i obliged. he's cool people. be social, i thought. keep connections. we went to an arcade in alameda then talked over margaritas and tortilla chips.

i told him about johny. i need to go back and find out more about this man. senay was cool and respectful. a grown ass dude.

then today, after not hearing from johny for a few days he messaged me, please love tell me only you and i. whaaaat? extraordinary. he must have sensed another man had appeared. the dude is connected in some way.

i still experience doubts and apprehension. the asking for money during sexy time, the next morning i ventured out on my own headed to picoulet and he came up on the road on his moto. he had a look on his face: less an expression of affection than concern i had figured him out. then at picoulet he wanted to have a important conversation.

i think you question to continue with me. he said,

how do you know that? i asked. well, that was wrong what you did. i think this is all a line.

he rubbed his face, it seemed out of frustration. ' forgive me.' he said finally.

later he messaged me to forget about money and only focus on the love.

then another time, when talking about his children and the possibility of bringing them to the states when they are older. he gave me a vauge response; his english wavering about how they have an advantage in haiti. i think about that conversation and how much time he hangs out in the street away from home. then i reflect on the night precious tripped out, carrying on about he's never home or doesn't spend time with her anymore (as edelin translated for me). this gives me pause that he simply is looking for a way out and to find a black american woman like me is a rare chance.

i care for him and i'm deeply attracted to him, but i'm cautious. i expressed my doubts in therapy and that i approach the move to florida as a change primarily for myself. a new chapter. whether johny gets his visa together, has the support of his father and sister, i have no control over the outcome of that. if he makes it, we'll figure it out. if not, i go on.

i'm always looking for clues it seems, i told sandra in session, to confirm my doubts. i came across a forum on marriage fraud. an american woman had married a haitian in haiti. his papers were sent to her sister in chicago. when they reached miami, he flipped. it was all a scam to be reunited with his girlfriend there. the wife was devastated, then it got worse. he got arrested on a misdemeanor and still she bailed him out. he's been trying to fight being deported saying that his wife has his papers. it was a sad story.

i haven't spoken to sherry in a month. i don't want to stress her out after the fiasco with jose's visa interview (all the bureaucracy and planning and the young dude forgot his passport). her flight wasted, his time wasted. they have to start over and wait for another interview between march - may. he was upset with himself, but i thought really mature. i know sherry struggles with her own doubts and that probably shook her resolve. i have a soft spot for young love. in some ways i'm more optimistic about them than my situation with johny. they're young, they have time. i'm going to be 50 and johny has four children.


i hink perhaps i've cracked the puzzle. johny said, after my visit, that his father was going to FL first to visit murlande, then he would come maybe september. when i  asked about this recently his voice went up and i heard the ' i only have one way. i don't give people the line.'

he plans to stay in haiti and have access to his father's land and property for financial gain and for hid children. this is likely why he never pursued coming to the US before. i suppose i was the perfect ploy to get back into his father's good graces - an educated, american sister.