Intro. Vert.

I’m not sure why. I felt the need. To take a 10-question introvert-extrovert test. I already know. I am an introvert. I’d estimate. If the test gave a percentage. I’d be about 85% introvert.

I need time alone. I like quiet conversations with just a few good friends. I’m never bored by myself, but can be genuinely numbed of mind by party banter.

The extroverts of the world set the agenda for social norms. It’s time for a revolution, my friends. As Jonathan Raush said, “We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush.’”

Haitian Art

Some of you. Have been asking. To see some art I bought in Haiti. So I took photos. Of my two favorite pieces. I’m a great lover of recycled drum art. Cut metal mermaids and fish. Starfish and seaweed. I bought a lot of drum art. But these pieces are special to me. Both infused with Haitian voudou. The photos don’t do them justice. Since spirits avoid capture.



The first is a voudou ritual flag deluged with sequins. A drapo. To honor the spirit and inspire devotees




The second is assemblage art. When I bought the piece, the gallery owner asked if I wanted to meet the artist who was out back. He said that his work wasn’t as good since he “repented” from voudou. But this piece, which the artist called the butterfly angel, was imbued with some of the milder gentler benevolent spirits. Who bring lightness. (It’s too bad the photo doesn’t show the wonderful rusty bent nails congregated on the top and bottom.)


Need a really good laugh? Read the customer reviews for the Playmobil Security Check Point on Amazon.com.

Swept

I am swept by the tide. Island to island. From Port-au-Prince to Whidbey Island, between Seattle and Vancouver. This sounds more idyllic than the reality of airports and a stop in frigid Wisconsin. To exchange summer clothes for winter. To perform between-trip banalities.

The rest of the week will be spent with friends from Weave A Real Peace. People with whom I can be my authentic self. Instead of my representative self. Of an organization. Or a movement. Or a group. Just me.

I had hoped to write more. About Haiti. But life. Keeps moving.

Currently reading: Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat

Haiti: Road Trip!

Haiti: The U.N.

Port-au-Prince is a city sprinkled with white U.N. and NGO 4x4s. The U.N. is everywhere. On the streets. In restaurants. We even passed a white tank with U.N. peacekeepers, guns at the ready, at a busy intersection. Right now, there are peacekeepers across the street and down the block for night. Just this weekend, 3 people were kidnapped in Peiton-Ville where I’m staying.

At a seafood restaurant tonight, I speculated that the tables around us were full of aid workers. My Haitian friend knows everyone and was able to deduce from who they were with who they were. One table was from the American embassy. Another was an airline pilot with friends. And yet another table was a government ministry with an Asian delegation. I guess I was the "aid" worker, as it were.