Deux pieds gauches (Two left feet)

Jacque Elie: Morgan, I got you a woman. Go dance with her!
Morgan: (reluctantly) Ok... sure.
Haitian female: Oh, is that how they dance in America?
Morgan: (bashfully) No, I was trying to do what you're doing.

Unfortunately my Haitian dancing debut did not live up to expectations. Although it wasn't as gory as the St. Valentine's Day Massacre of Capone fame, I think many hearts were broken on the dance floor last night. In order to remedy the situation, I am collecting donations for a trip to the Dominican to perfect my bachata. Contributions welcome.
Overall, the Valentine's Day celebration was a success. Attendants contributed $0.25 each so that we could have the privilege of hooking up some tattered appliances to a portable generator under a mango tree. In addition to the dancing, we watched a movie about a Haitian that moved to Port-au-Prince and made it rich but I could not concentrate on the Creole dialogue over the half dozen children that climbed on me once the film started.
Today we went to "local" market and bought some produce and bread. Quite different from the neighborhood Harris Teeter, the vibrant clothing of the merchants, the women carrying bushels of charcoal on their heads and the goats trying to evade their masters because of the inevitable fate that awaits them is a sight to see. I asked someone why we could not find any eggs, to which they responded that the merchants come from the mountains and that the eggs would be more like an omelet after the trek to market. We settled for the cassava, a baked grain that has the texture of a triscuit and the taste of cardboard.
This weekend we are attempting to hike to the "Fort de Bayonnais", a looming colonial citadel in the distant mountains. Next week, upon approval from Actionnel, I may try to accompany some students to a more suitable location for the Carnival festivities.