To watch a Haitian, man, woman, or child, was to watch art personified. They were artists as well as artisans. Without the pollution of television, electricity, internet, local Wal-Marts, and even air conditioning, the people of Haiti skillfully construct masterpieces out of their work, play, rest, and conversations.

Observing the men work at building houses, drilling wells, or mixing cement with extraordinary ease and rhythym, I got the perception that those arduous and complex tasks were merely hobbies.

Watching the children play marbles or soccer convinced me that they had to have invented these past-times and were perfecting them right there on the spot.

Getting lost in the diverse expressions, tones, and flows of their every conversation was as if I were sitting next to artists constructing a beautiful tapestry right before me.

The following photos are of Haitian hands and feet at work and at play. My hope is that your imagination instantly takes you down to Ferrier to recreate and meet these artists and artisans at work.


Can you guess what game this is?


Here's another trivia-photo: If you can tell me what Conel is doing in these two photos with his hands, I'll send you some of this flu that I have.








This scene immediately caught my eye at a local soccer match. These were teammates waiting to play, but, without proper equipment, were looking for comfortable footwear to wear onto the field.


This was a typical scene throughout the country. I would say three-fourth's of the people in the region where we stayed went barefoot most of the time. They would walk through thorn and across gravel, play soccer, construct buildings, dig wells, and even crush tarantulas with their bare feet. However, over the years they've heard that white Americans go back to the U.S. and tell everyone that Haitians all go around barefoot (not unlike what I'm doing now I suppose), so whenever we'd walk down the street we'd witness mothers calling their naked children back indoors so they could put some makeshift sandals on them.


One of our companions, Analis, making bread for us on our last night by candlelight.


This was a comforting scene. As it turns out, public displays of affection between man and wife is never shown in Haiti. So as we walked home from church, it was nice to see the elderly-est of couples breaking the social norm.


One of my favorite pictures of all the trip. The color of a beautiful people against the color of a beautiful country.


Mmmmm, sugar cane!!! In the states, my weakness...my kryptonite...my achilles heel is sweet tea. I go through 1-2 gallons each week! (So much so, that my dentist told me I need to ease up on the tea or else my teeth are gonna' stain permanently.) Anyways, in Haiti, I found my equivalent to sweet tea. Sugar cane. Gosh that stuff's good. You just chew on it like cud and it releases all these sweet watermelon-like juices in your mouth.