Washed out....

Haitians depend on highway transportation. After Hurricane Ike, many parts of the country were separated from each other. Port-au-Prince is the hub, in the center of all routes. Massif de la Hotte (southwestern department) has been cut off from the capital when the bridge washed out just south of Miragoa`ne.

This past weekend, I was able to vist Les Cayes and Port Salut. However, it meant crossing this river each time in a small boat. My photo is from our boat looking south at the folks who want travel north. Taptaps, buses, and trucks line up on both sides of the crossing - dropping off or picking up passengers and their goods. The boats have no motors - they are poled, paddled, pushed, and pulled across. Porters work at the water's edge, fiercely bidding against each for the business of carrying customers and freight from dry land to a boat. Somehow, I had the privilege/coincidence of carrying me both on Friday, headed south-bound, and on Monday, going north to Port-au-Prince. I knew from the first time, this man would have no problem carrying me and backpack!

Yes, everything that is going to be sold must be carried. I saw: dozens of chickens and goats headed for market; entire boats filled with 100+ sacks of charcoal, bags of fruit, rice, sugar, and beans; large trays of freshly baked bread; dozens upon dozens of 5 gallon containers filled with gasoline or diesel; and people - hundreds of people! This past Monday, I watcher a cow-herd pull/drag his herd across the river. Things were going smoothly, until the largest bull broke away, swam to the closest hill side, and headed uphill at a full trot.

Every day in Haiti gives greater truth to the familiar maxim - Life is what happens between the plans!

To Photo or not To Photo

As a rule, Haitians do not want their photos taken. I have heard that it is feared it might take away a piece of your soul. Almost the same as Navajo beliefs! After talking with folks they are most inclined to say - "D'accord."
These two children were quite surprised when I appeared walking past their house. "Blan, blan" they shrieked with delight. They were amazed by my digital camera. For that matter, me too!

Sunday Dinner

There is very little refrigeration in Haiti. Public power is inconsistent and generators are out of financial reach for the vast majority. This young man was returning from the country with a special treat for Sunday dinner.

I Heard it on a Taptap

Public transportation – Marche taptap is the primary means of travel for most Haitian. Buses, flat-bed trucks, and pickups constantly circulate the main arteries of every city; others go in an out from city to town and back again. Shout out your destination in order to confirm the route, and then try to find a place to sit or to stand or at least, something to hold on to.

Read the stickers left over from Wicanoma School District – 48 PASSENGER LIMIT (I stopped counting at 100, only because I couldn’t see the front of the bus), DARE (I have seen no signs of substance abuse, public drinking and cigarette smoking is rare – perhaps there are a few benefits to abject poverty!)

Taptaps are always crowded; drivers do not leave until their vehicle is full and then stop along the ways cramming in more passengers who wave them down along the way. Expect your senses to working at a level equivalent to standing room only – touch, sound, smell, sight, and taste can all get an intense workout during every ride. Shoppers and merchants will be traveling with 50 lb. sacks of rice, cardboard trays stacked with eggs, plastic basins piled high with mangoes, avocadoes, or citrus; bag of charcoal; live chickens or ducks tethered with twine (fortunately goats banned to the roof); and of course many large plastic bags filled to the brim and carefully sealed to hide its contents from prying eyes.

All the machines are old, beat-up, and continually repaired. One school bus, leaned far to the left, at first I feared we were so top heavy that we would end up in the ditch; each time we hit a bump you could feel the frame hit the axle. Another bus, first stop for a flat tire; it was fixed on the spot, taking only 30 minutes. One kilometer later the front suspension collapsed, metal parts scattered on the ground. As we got out of the bus, a second bus pulled up and we all jumped in. The first driver lost all his fare paying passengers, but we were on our way again!

I have had one week of Kryeol lessons and not studied French in 35 years. Accordingly, my first-hand understanding of taptap conversations is visceral not intellectual. However, the dialogues are lengthy, the ride is long, and every word is spoken at full volume – for everyone’s sake. Upon translation, I am amazed! Is food obligatory or necessary? Is a woman’s place in the home or in the work place? Does sugar cane make you stupid and lazy? Will you be my best friend?

Monday, Monday

Friday was for flying. 6:30am from Ft. Lauderdale means leaving at 9:30am with arrival directly in Cap-Haitien. A 12 seat turbo-prop means passengers get to know each other quickly, if not already from the waiting in the airport. {As a "blan" I find that soon I have a "new best friend" and that most Haitians report being "related"}

Cap-Haitien has been cut-off from the south, all the bridges to Port-au-Prince, Gonaive, and Hinche were washed out by Ike. Fortunate for the north, there are ports and supplies come in.
Right now there is food, but no diesel or gasoline. All the gas stations are closed and the black-market price for gasoline is over $12.50 American/gallon or $80.00 Haitien/gallon. Consider the impact in a nation where the average income is under $400 American/year - about $3,000 Haitian/year. Hustlers sell "fuel" by the gallon alongside the road, waving a tea colored liquid while shouting the latest price at each passerby. Most often the fuel has been watered down, then colored, causing ruin to many engines. Even the mayor of Cap-Haitien lost his motor to bad gas!

On Sunday, the food boats arrived in the northern ports. It was a great feeling to see truck-after-truck, pilled high with 50lb bags or rice. They were lined up along the roads ready to head off for distribution in the town markets.

Yet, Gonaive sits waiting, the water slowly receding. 300,000 growing more hungry. We hear that there is food in there, in the warehouses, but no one distributes it. Some say "it is the water," others that "it is too dangerous," and most often I hear "it is the politics, always the politics."

All schools have been ordered not to open until Monday, 10/6, put off from 9/8. At first the delay was due to the "cyclone," now I suspect that it is the "finances." In either case, it is one more month with all the students waiting and precious little to do - there is simply no work.

As an educator, I know that this is month missed out which will not be made up.

La Famille

My Brothers Table

Was able to volunteer one last time time today at the soup kitchen in Frederiksted. After helping many times this summer when it was usually the "same old adults" and Officer Charles, Frederiksted's bike cop, it was great to see three students and a staff member from Country Day School there today.With each meal, I see how much I have learned by giving my respect and my attention to these folks. In real schooling, teachers and students often switch places. Today, Miss Rose cooked salt-fish and fungi, word spread quickly on the street, so there was a big turnout with very little thrown away.


The port city of Gonaives is forty miles north of Port-au-Prince. A natural harbor, built on a wide river delta, it has had sections of the town that are still flooded since 2002. This summer, Gonaives got deluged four times. All the roads leading to the city are closed by washed-out bridges, so no food or water can be trucked in. Here is a city that truly needs the world to step forward with My Brothers Table.

Ike grows to Category 4 - pounds Haiti

http://www.nytimes.com/imagepages/2008/09/08/world/20080908_Ike_map.html

Getting ready -

My first visit was all too quick. Just eight days, but who would have known that the Haitian hook had been set so deep. My family has returned from summer travels in the states, the school has started, and we have "official candidates" for president/vice president - so, now I can return to Haiti.

What have the hurricanes wrought? Will the boys return to their schools in Cap-Haitien, even though there has been so much turmoil in the program and their lives? Can I make a difference?

Much to do with only four days left until leaving. How do you get ready for what you don't really understand?