In Haiti, anything that differs from the ordinary is cause for excitement.
As such, every work project draws spectators, often including a large number of kids. Since many Haitians can’t afford to send their children to school — almost every school in this country is private — a lot of kiddos run around unsupervised. A lot of them are drawn to our (noisy) work sites in impressive speeds.
At School 18 Monday morning, a mild-mannered grade-school aged boy showed up, alone. He lingered outside the school for quite a while, peering in through the open door at the crew working inside. He eventually worked up the courage to walk inside — something that would seem totally inappropriate in America but doesn’t seem rude here — and check things out up close.
I was working on painting a section of the classroom that was close to the door and so became the object of his attention. I tried to chat with him a little, asking the usual questions including his name, age, that sort of thing, but he was not interested in responding.
Finally I gestured toward him with my paintbrush to inquire if he wanted to give it a shot. He nodded and smiled. I handed him the paintbrush and demonstrated how to dip it into the tray, knock off excess paint, and then run it up and down the wall in smooth lines.
I figure it had to have been this little man’s first time painting — and by painting, I mean painting anything. Children’s toys are a rare sight here; they’re expensive and unnecessary. I can’t imagine this little guy’s family, which probably did not have money to send him to school (since he wasn’t in class and wasn’t wearing a uniform), ever had resources or access to things like fingerpaints, let alone paint for their home, if they even had a home with walls that could be painted.
After handing off my brush to him, I was reminded of that scene where Tom Sawyer tricks a boy into whitewashing a fence. In Twain’s book, Tom was trying to get out of doing his chore, and did so by making the task seem like a special activity.
It’s kind of similar to what happened to me although I wasn’t trying to get out of work (promise!).
For this boy, painting the school wall wasn’t “work” at all, but a new, special experience for him.