Marine Ball

Last Saturday (Nov. 10) I was invited to the Marine Ball, in celebration of their 237th birthday. To say this was an event, is an understatement! While I was incredibly excited to attend, I had neither dress nor shoes, appropriate for a black tie affair, nor did I have the foggiest clue of where I might purchase such items. Port-au-Prince is the antithesis of Rodeo Drive. From the streets, all one sees are the crumbling concrete walls and forbidding iron gates. Occasionally, if you know where to look, you might spot a colourfully-dressed mannequin, but window shopping here is like playing Where's Waldo or I Spy. Not an avid shopper to begin with, I quickly realized that my hastiness is accepting the invitation to a ball was ill-advised (I am always complaining that you can never be spontaneous in Haiti). What I needed was a fairy godmother!

She ended up manifesting in a multitude of forms: I got advice on where to shop from several of the local teachers, my apartment-mates were very gracious about letting me steal the car repeatedly, and my hair and make-up on the day of were courtesy of Ashley and Carrie.

The ball was being held at the historic Parc Canne a Sucre, a beautiful outdoor venue, near the U.S. Embassy. I was happy to have found a full-length dress when I arrived, as the women were decked out in some of the finest gowns I've ever seen. The men wore tuxedos and dress-blues. I was fascinated by the different adornments on the Marines's uniforms, and regret that I didn't get much of a chance to discover what they meant.

The U.S. embassador to Haiti was the guest of honour, and she read Hilary Clinton's statement from her recent visit to the country. It was interesting to hear about the role the Marine Corps plays in the security of U.S. personel and interests abroad. There was also a video presentation and the usual pomp and circumstance of the raising of the colours (some of this stuff should probably be capitalized). It made me think about Rob and his tours, the commaraderie that he has spoken of that comes with the dedication and unique circumstances of being a Marine.

There was cake, and dancing, and of the course the open bar, which proved to be my demise (and gives a whole new meaning to drinking the Kool-Aid). Despite the over-indulgence, the evening was a great success and a chance for me to get yet another glimpse of the glammour and glitz that the ex-pat lifestyle can entail.

My advice? If you ever get the opportunity to attend one of these events, don't turn it down!