Adventures in marketing

This morning I went with Cawole to the “mache” (outdoor market) in Miragoane.  Our transportation to and from the market was on a motorcycle taxi, the most common way to get around.  (The parish has a very nice car but it is in Port au Prince with Pere Kesner.)  The road to Miragoane is all on a newly paved wide road and mostly a smooth ride.  But once into the city, the road turns into a giant pot hole, mud, stagnant water, lots of motor cycle traffic, goats in the street, people walking everywhere, road side stands selling food, clothes, auto parts, anything and everything!  All of the commerce is done outside along the street.  It reminds me of indoor flea markets where individual merchants sell their wares, except it not indoors.

I want to become more familiar with the price of food and other items that we need at Kay Timoun.  The only way to really do that is to go shopping and see how the local merchants do business.  Among many items, we bought a 55 lb bag of rice imported from the United States.  That’s a whole other story: why Haiti is buying imported rice when they were once the largest producer of rice.  Beans cost more than I had expected.    They are sold by the “mamit”, a measure taken with a large tin can.  Flour, cornmeal, pititi (millet), are all displayed in bulk and sold by the “mamit”.  Cawol and I went from one merchant to another, buying and bargaining for what we need.   We collected all the food in one place: eggs, butter, oil, bulk items, and then went on to shop for fresh vegetables and fruit. We bought a huge amount of bananas, my guess is 30 bananas.  The kids love them.  They are sweet and healthy.  We usually have them for breakfast or snack after school. 

When our shopping was completed, we hired a guy with a wheelbarrow, who loaded all the groceries and wheeled them out to the street where he then loaded them onto a motorcycle for the trip to Bondeau.  Cawol went with the groceries.  I went on a separate motorcycle.  I know the driver, Evan, who lives in Bondeau.  We were driving on the broken up street when suddenly Evan stopped the cycle and said to me, “desann”, so I got off and he drove away.  Oh, well!  I wonder what this is about.  I waited and waited a little longer, and waited some more, then started to walk.  Walking toward me was Evan.  He took me by the hand and led me to a shanty where a guy wearing a bright green “Emerald Flooring Hollywood, FL” tee shirt was repairing motorcycle tires.  The men respectfully led me to a bench in the back of the shanty.  (I call Junior to let him know where I am.)  Evan’s motorcycle tire had a large nail, which was removed and tire repaired as we waited.  Sitting there in the corrugated tin shanty, I wondered to myself, “What is a nice deacon from Boca Raton doing sitting on a bench in a shanty motorcycle repair shop?”  At that very moment, from the small radio tied with cord and hanging from a wood ceiling support I heard “Amazing Grace”.  I knew somehow that being in that repair shop was where I was supposed to be.  Looking around, I saw that the tire repair man has a small bedroom connected to his repair shop.  In the bedroom a small TV was perched on a larger TV, wires jerry-rigged all around.  The World Cup was blaring loud while the repairman did his work, every now and then taking a look at the TV.  I saw that he has a small metal frame cot raised from the floor by hubcaps and building blocks.  A “girly” poster was on the wall.  This shanty is home and work place for this young entrepreneur.  His tools of his trade are in a rusty metal box.  A rusty hand pump sits on the floor but he turned on a compressor to fill the tire with air when he finished the repair.

The repair completed, we were off again toward Bondeau and arrived home without further incident. Evan drove me right up to the back door of the house where I was greeted by happy faces and cheers.  It’s good to be home!