That Dense Acrid Stink of Urine
Ma Lou remembers the initial days after the earthquake, how everyone worked together to dig through the rubble for survivors. She and the other market women provided food for everyone. Ma Lou tries to let go of those memories but she cannot get the horrible smells out of her nostrils. She finds this surprising given that as a market woman she is surrounded by strong and often unpleasant smells everyday. Using detailed imagery, Ma Lou describes the smells of the market: “Look what surrounds us every day: the mounds of smoldering garbage, the spoiling fruits with skins speckled with loitering flies, the leavings of dogs, the runoff of dirty water weaving its way through the alleyways, that dense acrid stink of urine.” Chancy describes a potent, chaotic mix of strong smells that provide a unique sensory profile of the market for the reader.
With Eyes Made of Red Stones
Sonia and Dieudonné experience a feeling of unease the day of the earthquake. Adding to the feeling is a man at the hotel who eyes Sonia voraciously from the hotel bar. She describes how his hand, “rested ceremoniously on the head of a cane shaped to resemble a duck, or a swan, with two eyes made of red stones, one on either side of the head. The animal head of the cane peered through the gaps between the man’s plump fingers. The sight of it was chilling, as if it might turn into a snake at any moment and strike us dead.” Both the man and his cane seem to be staring at Sonia; the red stone eyes peer out at her through his hand. Her description adds to the unease and tension of the moment, further deepening the foreboding mood before the earthquake.
A Throng of Bodies Moved Through the Unnatural Snow
The scene Taffia describes in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake at first seems similar to Carnival, a celebratory festival. There are masses of people in the street and everyone is covered in white as if they were wearing masks or costumes. She narrates, “it could have been Carnival. A throng of bodies moved through the unnatural snow, their faces frozen in grimaces, lips and eyes encrusted with the white flakes, some gesticulating, looking like chickens after the slaughter, white plumage smeared with red. They carried the remains of neighbors, of kin, on their clothes, like tattoos on their skin. The dust covered over the red with white absolution. Only the screams remained, piercing the whiteness, followed by the gloom as night fell, suddenly, blanketing pallor with darkness.” However, closer inspection reveals the true horror of what is unfolding before her. The white powder blanketing everyone and everything is the result of thousands of buildings crumbling within seconds, converting faces into mask-like grimaces. The only other color is red, as people are smeared in their own blood or that of their loved ones. Her vivid description captures the absolute chaos and horror of the moment.
Pink-Fleshed Jesus Hanging Limply
When Anne returns to Port-au-Prince, all of the places in her memories of home are gone or destroyed. Anne cannot return to the places she spent time with her late mother because they too are gone. The church where Anne and her mother were baptized is now rubble. Anne describes how the church had been reduced to “the pink-fleshed Jesus hanging limply, desolate, from a cross in the front courtyard, as he always had, more mournful now for his loss of a gathering place for the followers of his kingdom.” Here imagery captures a mournful snapshot of the devastation: Jesus hangs from his cross seeming to lament the church which has crumbled around him. His limp pose on the cross captures the exhaustion, pain, and suffering that many Haitians feel at this moment.
