Friday, August 26, 2011


In an effort to save my house from certain destruction from too many eager neighborhood kids, I occasionally propose "flane" as an alternative to playing in the Teacup. Flane is a Creole word that translates to...actually, I don't really know how to say it in English. A combination of stroll, explore, wander, meander, and hang out in the streets.

We walk down dirt roads with streams of dirty water draining down the middle and we walk down neatly cobblestoned lanes with flowers hanging over the walls on either side. We pass piles of earthquake rubble and collapsed houses that stand next to the pristine mansions of the bourgeoisie (Haitian upper class). We buy bags of water at little stands and when we're done, we toss the empty bags into the giant dumpsters on Delmas. From the 4 lane main road, we weave our way through the labyrinth of passageways and stairs back towards my house.

The best afternoons of flane end with a fresko. Fresko is like a snow cone but with Caribbean flavors such as coconut, passion fruit, and corrosol, not to mention all the other flavors that don't have names and are simply identified by their color: red, green, yellow, pink, etc. It's the perfect way to cool down after a stroll around town.

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