was a moment to remember, and to mark the moment the people came out in their finest clothes. Young girls and women dressed in beautiful pastel summer dresses, and more often in what looked to my eyes like First Communion dresses: white lace, ruffles, and veils.
Men, young and old, dressed in slacks or jeans with button-down shirts and ties. The children were fascinated with our cameras and came close for several pictures, which was very sweet. We all sort of hung around awkwardly staring at each other for a few minutes before we ventured toward them to say hello.
La Gonave is very remote, and relatively untouched by modernity. To get there we took a speed boat, dubbed "the yacht," with the bishop, some seminarians, and a well-known Haitian journalist. The bishop was fearless and stood at the front of the vessel as it jetted over waves, rising and falling with a thud against the water. We were soaked by the time we arrived, and grateful for it too since it was scorching hot outside.
Being on La Gonave felt a little like stepping into the Jurassic period. It's full of lush vegetation, patched-together huts in small villages, and perilous clay roads covered in rocks and boulders of various sizes. On the footpath we took to get to Platon Balai I noticed most rocks that were protruding from the clay ground were riddled with marine-like fossils so that I surmised the island must have been some kind of ancient sea bed millions of years before.