The plane landed and we were met just past the gangway with damp, musty air conditioning and a band playing Haitian Jazz. Got on a packed bus to circumvent the earthquake-cracked edifice of the terminal and unloaded to go through customs. Here I felt the six weeks in front of me - everything a complete hot, chaotic unknown.
A tall elegant man took my passport and entry form wordlessly, I heard "stamp - stamp" and on I went. Set upon by airport helpers that Shane told me to ignore and after a moment of uncertainty, one person handed me a phone to call Shane and the other grabbed my bag securing their employment. It was suggested that $20 was fair compensation for their unpleasantly aggressive portering - $3 was grudgingly accepted. Our driver Samuel would not move until our seat belts were fastened and our doors locked. Samuel is tall, stoic and like just about every Haitian I've seen thus far - incredibly good-looking.
We then drove trhough Port-au-Prince. The word is sublime. We were immediately confronted with a tent city just outside the airport where media pictures came to life with a wrenching feeling of lack that accompanied my impression of life going on in and around the suggestion of shelter and security.
I am extremely happy that I was warned about the sport of travel by vehicle in Haiti and relaxed into the daring game of brinksmanship where respect is given to (in descending order) potholes, other trucks, other cars, motorcycles, goats, dogs, chickens and finally human pedestrians who it seemed Samuel was tending to miss by a hair - no matter how much open road we had - to punctuate their status.
A tall elegant man took my passport and entry form wordlessly, I heard "stamp - stamp" and on I went. Set upon by airport helpers that Shane told me to ignore and after a moment of uncertainty, one person handed me a phone to call Shane and the other grabbed my bag securing their employment. It was suggested that $20 was fair compensation for their unpleasantly aggressive portering - $3 was grudgingly accepted. Our driver Samuel would not move until our seat belts were fastened and our doors locked. Samuel is tall, stoic and like just about every Haitian I've seen thus far - incredibly good-looking.
We then drove trhough Port-au-Prince. The word is sublime. We were immediately confronted with a tent city just outside the airport where media pictures came to life with a wrenching feeling of lack that accompanied my impression of life going on in and around the suggestion of shelter and security.
I am extremely happy that I was warned about the sport of travel by vehicle in Haiti and relaxed into the daring game of brinksmanship where respect is given to (in descending order) potholes, other trucks, other cars, motorcycles, goats, dogs, chickens and finally human pedestrians who it seemed Samuel was tending to miss by a hair - no matter how much open road we had - to punctuate their status.
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Lots. Lots more to come...
1 comment:
Beautiful intro to your adventure. Can't wait to read more. Poppy too! Love ya.
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