Ten years ago I ventured into Cap Haitien, Haiti to take my 3 “Haitian sons” out to eat.
Here we are on the Boulevard along the waterfront before dinner: Me, Mikken, Johnny, and Ruysdael.
The occasion was Johnny’s birthday.
I took the guys to Lakay, a sit down restaurant I had visited a couple of times with other missionaries.
It was about 9 months into my first year in Haiti and I still had a lot to learn about cultural differences and about extreme poverty.
After we had our fill of creole chicken and rice and beans, I asked the guys about their previous experience with eating out.
“So how often do you guys get to go out to a restaurant like this? Once a month? Less?”
One of them spoke up: “Once”.
“Once? Do you mean once a month?”
“No. Once… Tonight.”
And this was back when Haiti was relatively stable. And when Haitians knew a life which, if not prosperous, was at least peaceful.
Ten long years ago.
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