[Exerpt from journal May 15, 2013.]
It's now Wednesday and I've been in Haiti since Monday and I'm already partially numb at the way of life here. I noticed that today I only cried twice at the heart break of the poverty levels, awful living conditions, horrendous looking "schools", and the roaming animals that don't have a chance at all.
Backing up landing in Port-au-Prince the mob of people coming at us to simply push our luggage carts across the parking lot was CRAZY. Probably 20-30 deep surrounding each one of us. The men in their "official' red shirts with name tags around their necks, targeting the only two blond haired, blue eyes in the room- me and Catherine. I fell for it. She fell for it. This one man in particular was very pushy and manipulative for sure- "I need your luggage ticket"... so I immediately hand it to him- nervous that I don't know the way things happen in the Haiti airport. "Why exactly?" I ask? "It is better if I do it." He said with his french/creole accent. Then I caught on. "I need to see that again- I don't think I have another one"... as I grabbed it back from him. This went on for a while back and forth and I could feel my insides starting to shake from the nerves. Then he started to just hover and get frustrated when he realized I was not letting him get my bags for me. Standing uncomfortably close to our cart, our luggage, just waiting for us to make a move outside. But then we had a moment of smiles and "humanness"- when Emily offered him some wasabi peas. All of the sudden it switched from him trying to scam our money by taking stake on our luggage- to him and his buddy laughing with us about trying this new odd looking food being offered by the "white girls". We tried to explain 'HOT' 'SPICY' by yelling it louder and making hand gestures. Why is that always the way we think others will understand English?
The crazy ride 2.5 hours to Cayes Jacmel- tinted windows through Port-au-Prince, advice to lock the doors, so much garbage- everywhere, dirty streets is an understatement, poverty everywhere, smells I can't describe, people carrying all sorts of interesting things on top of their heads. I think I held my breath leaving the airport when my nerves were running especially high. Came up for air when I would gasp at what I was seeing out the window. We went past a funeral procession- all dressed in either all white or all black. There was a trombone player at the front of the line, right behind him they were carrying the coffin. My heart. A few minutes later- Oh boy- what's that smell? Awful- omg hold my breath... Francois told us it was a dead dog in the street. Out the window of my air-conditioned, safe and tinted view I saw dirty children dressed in rags, toddlers standing in the filth in the street amongst plastic bottles, people all smooshed into the back of a 'tap-tap' like 25 people sitting on top of sacks, legs crossing over eachother, hanging on to the very edge just to hitch a ride. Deep breath. This week is going to rock my world. Whoa. Guilt, embarrassment, shock, empathy, heart break, nervousness.
Curvy twisty roads over the mountain, finally the a/c is turned off and we can open the windows for some fresh mountain air. I had no idea Haiti was so mountainous. Reminds me of parts of Costa Rica. I start to chill out a bit.
The hotel feels like an oasis compared to what is "outside the walls". Here it is Day 3 and it feels so complex and overwhelming to process trying to not feel guilty, to have unconditional love for all, and how we can help more. All of the ideas of what, why and how it got this way here... It's so wrong that there are people living in such filth, waste, disease and poverty. And where did the Hope for Haiti millions of dollars in fundraising go? Must research that when I get home... It's 2013. Why is this country still in such awful shape?
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