Jean Saint Louis, Fisherman at Ville de Dieu, with his son.
Port Au Prince, Haiti. December 18, 2010

I am about to leave for PAP, and hope to see Jean Saint Louis once again, almost a year later to the day. His relaxed attitude belies the tension we were all feeling after hearing gunshots a couple of blocks away. As we headed out of the neighborhood, guided by Jean, we drove  past a deserted street – its sole occupant a dead body, in a white shirt, dark pants and feet pointing our way. A gang killing. Like the sewage laden tidal back-flows on which much of the ‘ville’ teeters, darkness flows in, and then, after a momentary silence, back out.