Thursday, April 3, 1998

We woke, showered and dressed before enjoying a superb continental breakfast at the inn. We met several more of our group who had flown in from various parts of the country. We left in good time for the airport so that we would have plenty of time for check-in procedures for an international flight. We arrived and checked in uneventfully. It was intriguing watching elite Haitian people checking in their baggage crammed full of United States merchandise. One gentleman had to unload part of his suitcase into a box since it exceeded the allowed weight limit. Another had a suitcase, splitting at the seams, but being held together with duct tape. Bob told us the Haitian elite make numerous trips to the U.S. for shopping sprees due to high prices and unavailability of some goods in Haiti. Since we were told to pack minimally, our baggage was quite a contrast to this scene. We had approximately two hours to wait for our flight to this poorest country in the western hemisphere. The rest of our group finally arrived on the scene making our total number 14. Terry visited with a very enthusiastic youth group who were going into northern Haiti to run a Bible School for kids. We finally began boarding around 10:45 a.m. The flight was quite full as were the overhead storage compartments. We ate lunch enroute and Terry read some additional information about Haiti. We arrived on time at 1:30 p.m. We deplaned and waited until our group reassembled. A small band (Haitian airport employees in disguise) played music hoping for a small tip. We walked into the terminal and got in line to be processed through immigration. The gentleman checked our passports and then we proceeded on to baggage claim. The airport terminal was hot, run down and crowded. Only two of the overhead fans were working since the others had broken paddles. The floors were heavily worn and the whole building showed years of neglect. After all of us had claimed our baggage, we waited again in line to have our baggage checked. As we prepared to leave the terminal, we noticed a large crowd of men waiting outside the door. These guys were intent on selling their wares, begging for money or earning a dollar or two by helping get your baggage to your car. A security guard stood by the door to ensure they stayed outside. When one brave individual popped in, the security guard popped him continually with a club and pushed him back outside. It was with a certain amount of fear that we purposefully shuffled through this aggressive crowd of Haitians to our intended vehicles. These aggressive souls continued to reach inside our vehicles and ask for money even as we began driving out of the parking lot. Escaping the onslaught, we were driven about five miles down "airport row", gawking at the sights of Port-au-Prince. There were cows, goats and chickens roaming the fields and streets, Haitians selling their wares from little shacks, unpainted and sometimes roofless cinder block homes, pickup trucks with crowds of people crammed in the back, heaping piles of trash, tangled electrical wires some of which were hanging dangerously low to the ground and a general disarray and commotion everywhere. It was almost as if an earthquake had occurred several days before. We eventually arrived at our obvious oasis, the Coconut Villa Hotel. There were high walls surrounding the grounds which protected us from the world outside. A security guarded, armed with a black night stick, keeps an eye on the entrance way. The hotel itself has approximately 60 rooms, rustic dining area, swimming pool and bar. (For a more detailed description of the Coconut Villa click here). We were greeted very warmly by the employees who immediately recognized our leaders, Don and Bob. Don also explained that the electricity usually turned off sometime during the day. Fortunately, the villa had a generator which provided electricity for everything except the room's air conditioners. John later found out from a resident that the electrical company did not have enough output for the whole city so they gave each area an approximate 18 hour slice. Port-au-Prince gets its electricity from natural gas and a hydroelectric dam. During droughts you generally get less electricity and during heavy rains you get more. We were given keys to our rooms and then had free time until 6:00 p.m. John and Terry immediately chose to explore the streets of Port-au-Prince. Bob walked us to the corner of Delmas (the main drag) and Delmas 19, gave us a short orientation and we were on our way. Yes, we experienced culture shock. The entire area appeared to have suffered from an earthquake or had been hit by a bomb. The sidewalks and curbs (in some places almost nonexistent) suffered from years of lack of maintenance. This was also true for the roads with one person describing them as the diminishing space between potholes. It is not unusual to see a hugh hunk of metal or debris abandoned in the middle of the street. Due to these problems plus heavy traffic, speeds rarely exceed 15-25 mph. Vehicles on the road appear to be fairly old and have numerous dents and scraps. This is probably due to the fact that there are virtually no traffic lights or stop signs or street lines and vehicles pretty much travel wherever they want. The drivers are very assertive and the right-of-way seems to belong to the vehicle that gets there first. Oddly enough, we never witnessed a bad case of road rage and only saw one accident. The cars themselves are rarely made in the United States. Several Haitians we spoke with felt Toyotas, Hondas, Mitsubishis, Dathatsus and Mazdas hold up longer and better. It is not unusual to see missing windshields, taillights, doors, bumpers or windows. Diesel and charcoal fumes are everywhere. The sound of automobile horns are heard almost constantly as Haitians seem to use them to say, "Here I am. Don't run into me." Only rarely did we see a female driver. Brightly painted "tap-taps" (covered pickup trucks with bench seats in the back) are used to transport people through town. Most of the free space along the sidewalks are taken up by people (mostly women) selling cosmetics, kitchenware, food, fabric, days old dead fish, car supplies, baskets, clothing, shoes and other basic items of need. Virtually all packaged items appear to have come from the United States which means the average Haitian can't read all the English words on the package. It was not unusual to see butchered animals covered in flies sitting on table tops. There were also many banks (lotteries) where people bet on the outcome of the New York daily lottery. Although at first the Haitian people seemed unfriendly, a simple "Bonjour" or "Bonswa" brings a smile to their faces and a returned greeting to their lips. The people themselves take pride in their appearance. Even though they are living in poverty, their clothes are clean and mended. However, it was obvious that they had received their clothing from a multitude of resources. One boy wore a Hard Rock Cafe Tokoyo shirt. We did not bother to ask him what he thought of his "visit" to that country. Another lady wore a long sleeve, blue Cub Scout shirt with a denim jumper over top. Indeed, these people seemed more involved in surviving then making a fashion statement. Every now and then we would see a woman carrying a live chicken by its legs or balancing baskets or buckets full of things on their heads. Businesses and homes have iron grates covering their doorways and windows. Some are surrounded by high walls which are capped with iron spikes, razor wire or broken glass/bottles. A poor man's theft deterant system. We walked for almost two hours up and down Delmas, just taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the Haitian city.

We returned to the peace and quite of Coconut Villa for dinner. Our group sat together at a long table, covered with nice table cloths and giant flower place mats. The waiters brought us plates laden with an entire fish, rice and beans, fried bananas and beets. This was followed by delicious coconut ice cream for dessert. Several empty plates were also set on the tables. This was the best incentive to diet we've ever had - we could put food we didn't want or need on these plates and it would be taken home by the hotel employees to help feed their families. After dinner we had an overview of our schedule for the upcoming week and then a communion short service. We returned to our room and found the air conditioner was not working. This made for a very muggy night's sleep!