Shaved Ice in Port-au-Prince
Grant Fuller
What would it take to make the Haitian people laugh in the midst of the disaster? Grant Fuller brings us a story from Port-au-Prince about a street vendor who brings joy to people, one cup of shaved ice at a time.
STORY TRANSCRIPT
In the street next to the national palace, a crowd closes in on Dieu ve Pierre at work. He's the eccentric star of this show, along with his colorful cart. Pierre sells cups of shaved ice, a sugary treat Haitians call "fresco." In the middle of the madness, Pierre uses a metal scoop with a blade on it to shave a large block of ice for his long line of anxious customers.
PIERRE: I'm surrounded everywhere I go. There's laughter and I feel awesome about it. I never thought I would have a crowd. I never thought that people would want to buy from me so much or that they'd laugh so much. It's really a weird feeling, but I like it.
The beauty of Pierre's business is not so much in what he sells – there are fresco vendors on every corner downtown – but it's the way he sells it. First of all, his cart is actually a 6-foot long wooden boat on wheels. And strangely enough, four old phones hang from the side of the boat. It's all part of the creative ordering process at Pierre's ice cart, which he's named "Fresco Katalina."
PIERRE: The first step? You look up at the boat and you see a phone assigned to each color of ice.
Frescos aren't ordered by flavor, but by color. Pierre offers green, white, yellow and red.
You pick up the phone for the color that you want. You hold it to your ear and say, "Hello Katalina, that's my fresco you're shaving."
That's where the laughter comes in. Customers get a kick out of listening to each other pick up the fake phone and recite the required phrase. And to top it all off, Pierre wears a ridiculous outfit. Blue hospital scrubs, rubber gloves, and the most bizarre part: a lacrosse helmet adorned with headphones that are attached to a baby monitor. The props help him pretend he's taking orders through the phones.
Watching him at work, you might think Pierre is a less than friendly vendor. He constantly snaps at customers who dare to ask for a fresco the wrong way – think the Soup Nazi on Seinfeld.
PIERRE: If you do not follow the rules, well it's over for you. You have to go back and do it over again. You just have to learn the system.
"That's my fresco you're shaving!" he barks at a rattled customer on the fake phone. But despite all this, it's hard to take Pierre's act seriously. And so the laughter continues. One first-time customer named Jordan thinks Pierre's schtick is just the kind of thing Haitians need right now.
"It's something that makes people laugh," he says. "And I think they're surrounding him like that just to kind of chase away some of the pain and sadness."
As he wheels his rickety boat down the street, the crowd follows, everyone jostling for a better view of Pierre's antics. Most people just call him "Katalina" and he gets recognized everywhere he goes.
PIERRE: You know how the president of Haiti is supposed to have connections with the people? Well, the way my business works, I think I have more of a connection with the people than the president of Haiti.
Like many Haitians right now, Pierre lives in a displacement camp, sleeping in a tiny tepee-like structure he built out of sheet metal. But despite his own struggle, he still helps out wherever he can. The day the quake struck, Pierre was selling fresco in the street. He normally charges 60 cents apiece, but the cups were free that day. He quenched thirst while also carting the wounded to the hospital. And even now, he finds little ways to make people feel better.
PIERRE: The kids, the ones without fathers and mothers, they sometimes come and say to me, "I'm thirsty, I want something but I don't have the money." Sometimes, without showing everyone what I'm doing, I give them a little shaved ice on the side. It may not be money, but it's all I have.
For the World Vision Report, I'm Grant Fuller in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
This story was produced for the World Vision Report.