Haiti: Reflections of my journey: September 2012

As we drove to the airport this morning, traffic was being redirected into our lane...what? Sounds of sirens and ambulances' coming down the proper lane. Oh so there must be an accident. Nope, but police posted at intersections and traffic still coming into our lane still did nothing to indicate the reason. Suddenly, we saw them- runners, mostly in red jerseys with white numbers across their belly. A marathon or run of some kind and we couldn't help but cheer for them. Being sunday the traffic wasn't bad despite the re-direction, but we decided we would return on a different route. No surprises along the way until....we met the runners. The lead runner, at least we assumed was being escorted despite not having a number. Others followed at a little distance behind.

There is always something to see when driving in Port au Prince, or the countryside for that matter. Something that captures your thoughts, makes you giggle -or swear. Its rarely boring except when stuck in a blockess that seemingly has no reason. With some of the schools opening, and with road work and demolition, that is enough in itself to create traffic jams. We did note that both routes to the airport had had road work done with potholes filled in- making a much smoother drive and quicker drive. The 10 mile round trip took about 40 minutes in spite of the marathon this morning. Despite dodging church-goers and their fancy clothes, the market people carrying baskets on their head, dogs and motos that cut in and out of traffic.

On one shortcut, we still see a small truck half buried in a collapsed house. We still see way too many temporary shelters- tents and tarps with the odd tin or plywood roof and doors. A few wooden t-shelters are interspersed among these. Political graffiti sprayed on to walls; ads pasted along side or over the words. Billboards old and new announcing which band is playing at which club- we get excited to see who is coming until we realize it was last weekend, or last year. We search the route looking for new Jerry art, wondering what his message will be. Beauty salons and lottos are on every block. Stacks of coke and big speakers blasting music sit along site tires, pepes (used clothing hanging on the walls), tv antenna's and mosquito nets, hardware and auto parts (Mapa), rice and little buildings selling clean bottled water, fruit and vegetables, paintings line the main streets; taking a shortcut has a few more potholes and bumps, fewer people and fewer markets but at about every corner someone has set up a stall to sell Barbincourt, Comme il Faut (cigerettes), maggi, canned milk and corn flakes. Perhaps a little charcoal grill will be burning with corn on the cob and chicken or hot dogs sitting on the grill.

Woman braiding a child's hair, a child braiding her sister's hair, men sitting at tables slapping dominos, the losers looking silly with clothes pins stuck to their face or arms. Children running along pushing metal hoops, flying little Seran wrap kites or kicking a doll head in lieu of a soccer ball.

Sunday mornings are quiet, the occasional beep of a horn interrupting the cricket and bird songs. As the day wears on the sounds of the football game or kompas from the bidonville will be our background music. Lately, every afternoon, we have thunder from the mountain. Last night, the lightning and thunder brought us a quick heavy rain. At least for us, just enough to cool the air before going to bed.

Last weekend we went up the mountain to Fort Jacques and Boutillier. Driving up the mountain is only different in that the higher you go, the more cooler the air. Refreshing...we had a guided tour of the old fort that sustained considerable damage from the earthquake but the rubble was cleared and there was still 'history' to see and our guide shared his knowledge in pretty decent english. He said he learned his english from listening to english speakers leading 'tourists' around the site. He had been giving tours for 6 years. Boutillier is a look out area from which you can see the city of Port au Prince. It is being fixed up with a bar and toilet; little shops have been built to replace the little rickety stalls that once housed the artists' work. The merchants want us to see everything and spend lots of money but weren't nearly as aggressive as they were the first time I visited this lovely vista. Its a very nice way to spend a few hours on saturday morning.

Yesterday we spent the day at the beach. We arrived to a parking lot full of cars, including President Martelly's entourage of black SUV's. With our somewhat late arrival, we fully expected the beach to be crowded but once inside (oh, the price for a day on the beach without buffet meal-$25 US.) Surprisingly, there weren't so many- it turns out that Martelly was in a meeting with the new CEP members, UN and other officials along with a corp of news people. Though there was security men posted throughout, they were unobtrusive and we wouldn't have even known anyone (official) was there. It takes just under two hours to get to this beach, going through a half dozen small towns along the way and seeing a lot of country side- open areas of land along with plots of banana trees. People again carrying baskets of products or leading donkeys loaded with food stuff going to the saturday markets. The road has been newly paved and except for one big bump makes for a fairly quick drive. Going to the beach (Indigo, anyway) is like going away on a mini vacation. Stress and work flow out with the tide. The warm salt water is like getting a massage, but considerably less expensive.

I think this is more of an out building thats sits above a second fort - Alexandre- which we did not go to. A variety of canons from the French and British.