Pati pa rivé

Talk about an up and down day. This morning was fun. I spoke to an immigrant from Cuba for about 45 minutes right outside where I post these blog entries. I'm not sure if I've already said this, but at times I wish I was doing an anthropology thesis, because I have really great access to the Hispanophone community here. I'll probably try to get IRB approval (i.e. university approval) to study them for when I come back, just so I can ethically collect data and report on my conversations with them, assuming they don't mind.

I then went to a local high school to drop off a letter for the Creole teacher, explaining why I'm here and giving him my number so that he can contact me if he wants to help me in any way. I also met the principal, who wrote her dissertation on the language (which I had ordered on inter-library loan long before coming here). So there's some leads. Also, I was surprised to see so many students there, since school was out of session. But it turned out that today was the day that all over France, students were receiving the results of the bac, the college entrance exam that all graduating students take. After a brief stop at the supermarket (where I purchased comou and soursop ice cream, among other things), I went home. While home, I made a phone call to the linguist I talked about recently, and I got no further than 'I'm doing a study on Guianese French Creole' when the phone slammed onto the hook. I felt depressed and rejected by someone I was told would be open and helpful, and the snacks I'd bought for the next couple weeks are now half-gone.

In an effort to avoid being hung up on being hung up on, I went to take a hike to places where I was told I'd see great views of the city, but instead, all I found at the top of a very long, very steep climb were signs forbidding entry. But I felt better having exercised strenously, and I went home, where I relaxed with World Cup soccer. I then went to one of my informants' houses, and he told me that he'd set up another interview for this Saturday, when his friends wouldn't be tired from working all day. And then I came here to type this blog post, and on the way, I received a call from someone I'd given my number to, offering to get together to speak in the local creole within the next few days.

After two days of blog entries with the exact same title, I put a bit more thought into this entry's title. It's a creole dolo (roughly, 'proverb'), meaning 'leaving is not arriving'. It felt really appropriate for today, where I started a lot of things, or continued things, but still didn't feel like I'd reached the point I wanted to. But since the day ended well, it's nice to know I won't wake up angry tomorrow.