When I lived in Haiti, my sister and I went to school in Port au Prince, but we ached and longed for summer vacations in Mirebalais every year.
Ahh, summers of ripe mangos, chasing chickens in the farm, and eating all the candy before bed. Our grandparents spoiled us. We lived the good life.
Though my grandma spoiled us, she had limits. Every time I got in trouble, she wouldn't scream or shout, she would come over, get down to my level, and look at me and whisper "there's a good woman somewhere in there-- but it's gonna take some time."