Our 2 main running biodigesters are within the city. That means that getting the cow dung requires planning and logistics from a countryside farm into town. Luckily AIDG Haiti has made a few buddies with small dairy farms and the farms are pretty much in what you would call suburbia, though that description is a bit of a stretch in an informal urban sprawl.
The evening before we have to deliver about 8 buckets, with lids, for the farmer to load them up (with you know what) the following morning for us to pick them up. On one of the occasions that I tagged along we walked into an opening with a cluster of houses, a dairy farm in the back and an enormous US Army tent, apparently donated to a tailoring co-op. If that wasn't bizarre, as I was walking into the compound with Isnido, trying to be as cool and local as I can, I didn't realise that an old lady was trying to talk to me in Creole. My cover was blown, so to speak, and I had to unleash my broken and battered franco-creole.
The savvy granny had her radar on and knew when a potential sale was apparent. She decided that she wanted to sell me one of her chickens. I hesitated then I asked Isnido to open negotiations. She started at 75 Haitian dollars (H$) but Isnido skillfully brought it down to H$ 50. This is the equivalent of about US$6. Now at this point I have to warn you about the currency conversation smokescreen in Haiti, a joy to the street trader, a curse to the gullible foreigner. For starters, the Haitian dollar does not exist.
Before you start thinking about cowry shells and trading with salt, the H$ is a dead currency but a common point of reference, even on restaurant bills. The main currency is the Haitian Gourde, which is five times the value of the fictitious H$. Therefore the Gourde to US$ is 40:1. It takes a while to grasp 3 currency exchanges at once, whilst coming to terms with the value of things (and this varies a lot depending on whether the item is imported or made locally), and doing mental arithmetic at the same time.
So when Isnido told me the chicken costed H$50 I thought he meant 50 Gourdes which would be 5 times lower than the selling price. In my confusion I assumed that a chicken would be worth the value of a ball of chewing gum. To my embarassment as I whipped out just a 50 Gourde note, everybody looked at me funny. Isnido whispered to me that its in H$, as he returned the note. Doh!
So I removed a note that I thought was a 50 Gourde and continued to rummage for more but Isnido told me to stop. I had just handed him a 250 Gourde note. The colour and size of the 50 and 250 Gourde note are similar, and when they are marked (in Haiti, most marked notes are at the point of vapourisation, from overcirculation) even more so. More blushes.
To save face I insisted on examining the chicken, which was a spring chicken by the way. So in addition to handing over the shit buckets, half the village was chasing after the chicken for a whie. After it was caught, I gave it a good look over. Apart from some feathers missing, it was in good condition.
Now any village scene has a United Nations of domestic animals roaming around. Well this one had goats, chickens, dogs, cats, ducks, even guinea fowls (otherwise it was one hell of a wierd looking chicken). There was this really poorly looking puppy lying there. Miserable, drowsy, infested with sores and no doubt infections, and circled with flies. I started talking about it but savvy granny was already shoving the poor pup aside and wanted to sell me a healther looking but mangy dog. I'm not sure where my morbid expression was intepreted as another potential business opportunity. Non mesi (no thanks in Creole), madame!
K.
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