a brief (if vapid) interlude

"Inside the Frame" intends to shed a spotlight on and provide the occasional snap-shot of life in the region of the world where I experience it. This Friday I'll be back in Haiti and posting and observing from there. For the moment, however, I am in the United States of America. Some of my behavior and choices may seem superficial to the less-than-dedicated reader, but they serve to lend a stark contrast to my everyday life in the Les Cayes area. Forgive me if I offend.

California sunset

So pardon my long absence from the blog-o-sphere. It's not like interesting or remarkable things stop happening the second I land on U.S. soil. On the contrary.

The New York City bars, several weeks ago, were quite a trip (skinny drunk girls in $500 dresses, long flat hair swinging as they rocked to the rap music) after a 7 hour lay-over in the Port-au-Prince airport. In fact, now having traveled a bit more (but no where near as much as this guy), I agree that "Airports themselves are unexceptionally unexacting, unhappy, unsanitary, unpleasant places of waiting." Toussaint Louverture International is no different.

Unfortunately, I spent my first week back in the States battling a mean little Haitian germ. I guess it stowed away somewhere in my GI track for a while and reared its ugly head only when my immune system was debilitated from travel and irregularly late nights. This episode over-lapped with my eldest little brother's (take a minute to figure it out) graduation from Cornell. So instead of romping around campus and reliving the glory days, I lay in a hospital bed clutching my stomach and moaning in agony. I didn't even get to see Soledad speak. :-(

After New York City and Ithaca, I got to hang out in the Washington-Baltimore area for a few days where I marveled at my friend's close relationship with her huge Bengali-Tiger cat named "Baby Cat" (below). Baby-Cat is 4 times the size of my sweet little Teelees and I think they're the same age.

Tilees

Their markings are strangely similar despite obvious physical and temperamental differences. They both like to stalk though.

Then came a California voyage. I landed in Oakland, rented the ritziest SUV in the Enterprise lot, and drove south to Santa Cruz. In retrospect, I should have noted the warning label on the sun visor: "high roll-over risk. Avoid fast maneuvers and high speeds" given that a majority of my drive down the peninsula was on winding mountain roads. The purpose of my voyage? A wedding. Yes, the first of my good friends took the dive. It was a "do-it-yourself" wedding. All those present for the entire weekend stayed in cabins nestled in the redwoods. This select, cabin-bunking crowd, who participated in the bachelor/bachelorette parties, rehearsal dinners and Capitola Beach lunches, chipped in by flower arranging, giving facials, running errands and cooking late-night batches of macaroni.

I returned late last Monday to the District of Columbia with bright pink, California-esque nail polish on my toes and fingers. The Washington, DC area is so boringly conservative at times. At my regular DC-area spa, a manicurist looked down at my vibrant nails with a disapproving frown and said "ve-dy Cal-ee-fo-rrrr-nia."

Sound superficial yet? I even exchanged Brothers Karamazov for The Debutante Divorcée during my stay on the Left Coast. It was a delightfully vapid read.

Since returning to the capital area, I have made it my business to do all the things that are so very Washington: Drinks on the Georgetown waterfront, Latin dancing at Citrón and Rhumba, over-priced dinners comprised of "tasters" and tapas, shopping in Friendship Heights, trips to the Baltimore waterfront, backyard barbecues, and downtown lunches with folks of stature.

On the 14th, I head back to Haiti. Not sure if I am ready yet, but here I go! There are some cool projects coming up and I'll be doing most of the photography for Espwa now that Nick has left, so keep reading for more pics and more on the happenings of this volunteer in le Departement du Sud.

I am looking forward to a hot, sweaty summer in the Caribbean and to you living it vicariously through me via the blog.