Of Haiti, more to the point of when I was in Bercy and trying to fall asleep. I am not sure I can put into words what it was like at night in Bercy, but just for you I am willing to try.
It is very dark, people do not have electricity in their home and they do not waste there gas for the generator or their car battery and inverter to keeps lights on very late. They just go to bed because they wake at the crack of dawn to try and work while it is still cool. Anyway I lay in the foreign country in a strange bed surrounded by strange noises, all except one noise. The cock-a-doodle-do of roosters crowing. Now we raise chickens and have a couple roosters so this is not a new noise to me. Though I will say my rooster does not crow all night long, like the roosters in Haiti feel they must do. To the east of the house one hears a dozen or so roosters crowing at once, then to the North of the house another group of roosters and then to the west of the house more roosters and then to the south of the house even more crowing. All night long it seemed to be a gang war between rival gangs of roosters. Who had the most roosters in its gang, which gang could crow the loudest, and who could go on the longest seemed to be the questions that needed to be answered. Every now and then lone rooster would crow out of sink with any of the rooster gangs, maybe he hadn’t join one yet, or maybe he had to prove him self first, maybe he was just simply a rebel.
So the one sound that was not foreign to me was the one sound that kept me awake night after night. So last night when I dreamed of trying to fall asleep in Bercy, Haiti you can imagine I was not sleeping very well.