The transition into a developing country airport is generally an experience in itself. Watching the chaos of porters scrambling for a gig; waiting in a line for a stoic immigration officer to look over the papers crumbled between your passport pages; sweating profusely as your mind wraps around the sights and sounds that signal you are entering a completely different reality. The entry into Port-Au-Prince was no different. After grabbing my bags from a decaying conveyor belt, I stumbled out into the glaring sunshine, glad to see a man holding a manila envelope with my name scribbled on it. Outside the arrival gate, which spilled directly onto the street, people crammed together to greet passengers and offer rides. I followed the manila enveloped man, doled out a few dollars for his help with my bags and found myself sitting in the passenger’s seat of a minivan that would take me to my guest house.
The trip through Port-Au-Prince was intense. Chaotic daily life was in full swing – colorful tap-taps and 4 wheel vehicles dodged pedestrians, many of which carried loads on their heads. The city is hilly, with beautiful lush mountains as a backdrop. For me, it was a mishmash of Managua’s lushness with La Paz’s hilliness and Niamey’s congestion and color. What set it apart, of course, was the rubble that crowded the streets, the broken buildings and the groupings of tents at every turn.
I learned that buildings with poor cement crumbled, whereas buildings with good cement “pancaked”- literally crushing everything between each layer. A mixture of both abound. What seems just as widespread are buildings that are tilted, walls gone, entire floors hanging at weird angles in an impossible balancing act. Often you will see workers in those buildings, hammering away in demolition mode, standing awkwardly on a floor tilted at least 30 degrees.
I arrived at the St. Joseph’s guest house, which is also a school for orphaned boys, and was greeted by the director, Bill and many of the boys that live in the house. After being directed to my room, I went to dinner at one of the hotel’s in Petion Ville (the richer parts of town) with some of the people that work with the boys home. I learned about the difference in life before and after the earthquake and about the relief efforts that are taking place. Many of the hotels are full of non-profit workers, the rooms booked for months for the ongoing work. Most workers are not allowed to leave the hotel unaccompanied and many areas of Port Au-Prince are off limits to them. It seems these extreme measures are in place because organizations are responsible for so many people coming from all over the world. An incident could cause harm to the individual, but also to the organization, who might lose an entire program due to any sort of physical incident occurring to one of their staff. It makes sense, at the same time, it seems illogical to block people who, by job description, from the people they are here to help! I also question the ability to design an effective project without this sort of access.
In any case, after dinner, needless to say, I fell into a deep sleep and did not feel the tremor I was told occurred about 3 am.
Very bright, hot and early Monday, I returned to the airport to pick up my father, David, who will be assisting me as advisory board member to Scopa Group and seasoned development professional. His layover allowed me to overhear these words from a missionary in the car next to me– “do you know where you will spend eternity?” to a group of Haitians hanging outside his car window. To his credit, the rest of the conversation was supportive, one man was asking him for help and he was asking how he could help himself, an empowering talk and very honest sounding.
After hours waiting for David’s delayed plane (remember when you didn’t have that little handheld device that tells you the exact minute a plane is coming in?) we were off again. The traffic is really horrendous, never seen it before, okay, maybe Mexico City, but wow! Unbelievable. They say it’s gotten worse since the earthquake due to all the ngos in town and the destruction of the downtown, so more cars are concentrated in a smaller area.
After a brief reprieve, we met with Jacqui from Voyages Lumieres, a travel agency that has been in Haiti for 12 years now. She will be helping design the fun aspects for the volunteer trips in August and November. Essentially, the after hours and days off from volunteering. What I really liked about Jacqui was her commitment to rebuilding the Haitian economy - ensuring that visitors use local guides and buy local products. The "fun" part of the trip is just as important as the volunteering for this reason - it helps to provide people that have undergone a drastic hit to all their systems, to regain their footing.
More later. In closing - a shout out to bucket baths and Doctor Bronner's Soap in 95 degree weather. Exhilarating.
