No Hablo Creole

We arrived safely in Haiti this afternoon, as did all our luggage. Trying to keep our luggage in our possession until we found our driver was a bit more of a challenge. I more or less ended up fighting this man for my luggage cart, even though Leah kept telling him we weren't going to pay him. So we compromised and both pushed my cart at the same time. After our two hour drive along the coast to our house, Patrick, one of Leah's friends, came and picked us up and took us to the base where there was food waiting for us. I have met my match with hot sauce. The bottle says, "One drop does it" but I failed to read that until I'd drowned my fries in it. I met some more people at the base, and some of them find it particularly amusing that I don't speak a lick of Creole. So instead, they speak to me in Spanish. That way, I can verbalize how I don't understand them.
We're headed to the market in the morning since our cupboards and fridge are bare. And morning is going to come too soon for this night owl. But I don't anticipate having too much trouble sleeping despite the music, dogs, and goats outside my windows.