One Day (Haiti part 2)

On our third day in Haiti we drove to a beach resort, Wahoo Bay. In the States, this drive would take about 45min. In Haiti, with traffic, it takes about 1.5h. On our day, it took 5h.

We packed up the car and hit the road at 7am 830am. Before we could make our way out of Port-Au-Prince, our car began to stall. Our intrepid driver, Angelo, blamed a faulty thermostat. He pulled into a "garage" to have the offender removed, so we could be on our way.

garage. (photo by Stepha)

bored at the garage (photo by Stepha)

protected from the searing sun by her curtain (Tatie's scarf) (photo by Stepha)

killing time with Tatie Steph (photo by Stepha)

Soon, our vehicle repaired, we were back on the road. By now the sweltering Haitian day was upon us. The skies were a clear and glorious blue. The neighborhoods beneath them the now familiar, but no less unsettling, portrait of extreme poverty, govenmental neglect, and sadness.

more tent cities outside of PAP. After the Earthquake, many decentralized to avoid the overcrowding in the displaced persons camps in the city. 

Our car soon began to putter, and we were unable to drive above 25 MPH (very very slow by Haitian highway standards). But then! We spotted the ocean!

Our puttering car, however, was not to take us there. We were forced to pull over. So we sat, by the side of the Haitian highway, temperatures soaring, waiting. Every few minutes, our dying vehicle let us push another few feet out of her, but it was apparent to all, this car was not taking us to the beach. As I have learned is so common in Haiti, a stranger on a motorcycle stopped to help us. He told us of a garage, just a mile ahead, and volunteered to go there and alert the mechanics of our arrival. Our Kia Sportage dying steed slooooooowly inched the mile, and we made it to the "garage".

garage

I have to note, I'm not sure how these places operate. We pulled in, and 4 men began to work on our car. They had some boxes of tools on the ground and a small shed in the background where I assume they can store supplies?

dead

thank goodness I brought snacks, and lots of them, as our 1.5h trek turned into 3h (photo by Stepha)

around hour 4, Tilly alerted us to her need for the "potty". We found some shade behind a train car, and set up her potty seat. Chickens walked past us. (photo by Stepha)

and then we saw this guy, just minding his own business

staying cool in the shade of the car, drinking a lot of water. Our kind stranger also took our driver Angelo to a  nearby market to buy us all water and juice (water + sugar).

Finally, after 5 hours, Manmie TeTe's business manager, David, came for us and took us the rest of the way to the resort. We gave all of the food to Mathilda, and because I tend to get car sick if I eat right before getting on the road, I had consumed little more than half a Cliff bar all day.  We were all ready for the beach, and a strong ice cold rum punch!

view from the restaurant to the beach 

view from our balcony

more from the balcony

sun setting over the pool

Deforested mountains. Over 98% of Haiti's forests have been cut down to sell, and for fuel for cooking and heating.  This deforestation has hurt more than the scenery, with common mudslides and a major disruption to the ecosystem. From the air, Haiti looks entirely brown.

(photo by Stepha)

our rooms

we might have lost almost a full day in transit, but we were not letting that stop us from some beach time (photo by Stepha)

really

salutations, friend!

sunset (and razor wire). (photo by Stepha)

fishing boats early in the morning (photo by Stepha)

(photo by Stepha)

before breakfast Daddy-Tilly swim

very tired

Lunch! fisherman caught these lobsters and crab, and left them in bags in the water. We bought them and they cooked them up. I don't know if there is a better meal than fresh crab and lobster cooked and eaten on the beach!

the only thing she wanted to do in Haiti was swim in the pool. Any pool. All pools.

my beautiful sister in law

(photo by Stepha)

yankees fan (photo by Stepha)

last shot before leaving Wahoo

The beauty of the beach stands in such stark contrast to the poverty of the cities and towns I saw in Haiti. As I've been talking with Haitians, and reading about this country, I've learned that Haitians survive not because of government or outside help, but often, in spite of. Though the disaster relief response to Haiti has been great, without coordinating with a central government, or local groups, aid agencies often operate in isolation. Relief is not the problem- recovery and rebuilding are. Why do we, the international traveler, not visit the beaches of Haiti, yet pay thousands to her neighbor, the Dominican Republic? The concern for safety is real, but so is the breath taking scenery, and the kind, helpfullness of the Haitian people. 

After snapping the photo of the sunset above, Mathilda became very sick*. It was sudden and terrifying. The fear made more so by our isolation. No car, no phone, miles from a city. However, we were not left on our own. We were able to easily find a hotel employee, who let us use his phone to call the US, and drove us to a local doctor. It was only 7pm, but already pitch dark without the street lights and store fronts illuminated as we are so used to in the US. We sped through the darkness past street side markets lit by taper candles and the glow of passing headlights, my baby hot and listless in my arms. The doctor had no overhead lighting, no instrumentation, no technology. His office lit only by a small corner television. He asked for no payment, but we gave him our remaining Haitian goudes, probably only worth about $5. Our hotel escort gave us the use of his phone for the rest of the evening, and the next morning. We paid him well in USD, to thank him for his effort. But I was left with the feeling he would have helped us no matter. By midnight that night, Tilly had recovered. Thanks to the advice of her US pediatrician who accepted my frantic calls (x 5) and our Haitian hotel employee, whose name I never learned.

Such is a great lesson of Haiti, learned in only a few days. Reggie's grandmother has raised orphaned children as her own, neighbors take in neighbors, share what they have. This kindness and generosity, however, is not enough. Millions are still homeless, living in tents. Community is more important than anything else. Community brings safety, security, love, and entertainment. We were never really alone, and never far from someone willing and able to help. I understand better now, what I couldn't understand before. Reggie's grandmother asked us one night, while sitting on her patio, enjoying the cool evening air, could we see now why she could never leave Haiti? This is her home. If she left, what would happen not only to her physical belongings, but to the people she lives and works with? She told us she is protected because of the community around her, and in turn, they are protected by her. Even if the Port-Au-Prince outside of her gate is a busy, dusty, sometimes sad and scary place. 

I hope I'm portraying how mentally, physically, and emotionally overwhelmed I am and was by just this one day in Haiti. We all joked that we were only in the country for a week, but felt we had been gone and had enough stories for months of vacations. 

I will end this post by promising the next will be lighter in sentiment and text, heavier in photos, and hopefully more entertaining and funnier than this one.

* I owe it to my Haitian family (and the entire country) to make it perfectly clear that Tilly getting sick had nothing to do with Haiti. She caught a virus. As our pediatrician in the US said, it could have happened to her in Pittsburgh, or Cleveland, or Paris. It just happened we were in Haiti. And, most importantly, she is totally and completely fine, and was by the next day.