Heaven and Hell

Well again I am starting with the adult blog first.  I am having guilty feelings for not addressing the youth of today first.  I thought/needed to tell the tale of my trip today.  It’s a scary and violent tale and I am actually surprised I am alive to share my harrowing ordeal with you.

First the good stuff.  We went to church with the kids this morning.  It was a very exciting morning.  It was a Catholic service.  We went with a handful of the kids this morning, as they go every week.  When we arrived, there was no church.  It was what I would call a makeshift church.  When we got there, the service was already in session per se. It wasn’t bad manners to be a little late, it was just Haiti.   I was walking with Christina one of the little girls at St. Joseph’s.  I wanted to see what this was all about.  A scout looking guy grabbed my arm and took me inside the “church” 

The church is like a lean to; it has pretty nice/new metal roofing.    There are no sides and the pews are just wood planks…not comfortable.  There were a ton of people inside.  A boy who looks like a scout (he’s dressed in scout clothes) took me to a pew and pointed for me to sit down.  So I did.   Jamie and Susan were still back under the tent outside. I don’t have my interpreter with me so I will be winging it.   I was sweating up a storm and I realized it was because I had been in an all out sprint moments before because I brought my camera and forgot the card. 

 

I’d say about 20 minutes later, I realized they were sending a collection box around the church.  Well I didn’t have a purse so I gave it to Susan while we were walking.  Shortly before the collection box came to me, I had this “bad, very bad” feeling.  I must confess I brought some weaponry down here, again the trust thing.  I realize my knife I was wearing around my neck was now in my sweaty lap inside my dress.  If I got up, it would have fallen and I could have started mass chaos or pandemonium or whatever you call something bad as in riot.  I was thinking any moment I will stand up and the knife will fall to the ground and I will be taken down by the secret society church security guards.  Ok, Rhonda get it together I said,  I did what any other nut job would do,  I reached down inside my dress from the front and somehow grabbed the weapon  which was laying precariously on a sweaty thigh. I am sure someone witnessed this apparent lewd act I was performing on myself.  After I retrieved the knife, I put it back in the sheath and vowed to rubber band it the next time I run with a knife.   I made the exchange with Susan and told her to watch the knife since apparently I was having difficulties. I gave Christina $5 to put in….that’s a lot down here.   

I am sure I followed exactly 1 % of the mass today. I may have followed some of the Creole mass slang.  I felt rather stupid, the priest talking to the congregation, the congregation laughing and I make the attempt only to look stupid.  What are they laughing about?  I hate that!  Finally, I understand the Eucharistic part of the mass and I’m thinking, oh yeah, but then they lost me again.   We prepare, or I prepare for the “peace be with you”,   for a moment I was Lady Gaga or Madonna, everyone wanted to give me some "peace", a touch or a peck on the cheek.  It was freaky for a moment but everyone wanted to be my BFF for that 2 hour service.  It was kind of cool and I was flattered by the attention..  Next came the actually communion segment, I was kind of looking for some clue as to when I should get up and go.  The look of people gave us since I think we were the three “blanc’s” attending mass that morning.    I thought that would be a cool band name, instead of the one  named 4 non blondes, we could be the 3 blanc’s, well actually I am a non blonde but it just wouldn’t make sense down here. 

In a nut shell, mass was really interesting.  Here are all these very poor people, dressed up in their Sunday best.  I imagine it like church 50 years ago.  There are no name brands here

The men are wearing dress slacks, dress shoes and a button down shirt.    Shoes shined to a beautiful shine, women wearing no less than 2” heels.  Hell, I barely made it walking in my keens.  There are no tee shirts, shorts or short dresses here.  All the women are wearing dresses; every little girl has a dress that is no shorter than their knees.  It is America without name brands, because they really don’t care about the status of materialist things, they just want to survive.  They look like your regular run of the mill, middle class citizens.  It could have been any church anywhere in America.  The little kids have no Cheerios, toys, or phones to play with.  There are no booklets to help us along.  It wouldn't have mattered because I can't read Creole.  Everyone knows the mass by heart.  You would not know by sitting in here that these people are dirt poor.  I’m still trying to figure out how they get their clothes pressed.

Susan and I go up for Communion, everyone is staring at us, watching every move. It’s kind of funny.  When we get up to the Priest, he smiles at me. I think, yes, I scored! After church, we walk the kids back home and wait for our ride to show up.  An hour later he arrives.  He’s really a cautious person in general.  He does a complete safety check on the car but the point I become a little, I’m not sure if I want to say concerned.  I’m thinking maybe something more to the effect of, what is in store for the day.  Oriol asks Jamie if we are Christians and she says yes.  He says lets say a prayer before we leave on our way.  I should have been subliminally alerted to the fact that today will be no ordinary day.

I am anxiously awaiting our departure.  The kids are running amuck at the orphanage.  Again, half the staff decided not to show.  There are many meltdowns ensuing here.  I’m expecting to come back and find the staff that did stay, tied up and all my possessions remaining there to be sold on the black market.

Now from this point forward I will name this segment, “A Trip to Purgatory” or through Purgatory.  I think I could get it into a movie with a title like that.  I have seen a lot of Port au Prince except for the area we were now heading.  I would say in general its poor, run down, your run of the mill poverty at its best.  I was not prepared in any respect for the trip today.

Again, traffic moves at a snail's pace.  It makes any traffic jam in the U.S., look like a cakewalk.  I’m not kidding it took basically two hours to go just a few miles.  It doesn’t help that there is not one sign of a traffic control device except for the people who get so sick of sitting in traffic that they just get out and start directing on their own.  This area is the old downtown I guess where the Haiti Palace used to be.  There are about five lines of traffic in a two lane road.  You have the motorcycles going between the cars as well as people weaving in and out.  Some motorcycles must have got sick of the way traffic was going in the opposite direction, which they now decide to just drive up on the sidewalk coming at us.  It’s really really hot out and we are thankful for the air conditioning that manages to barely emanate out of the vents.  It’s not nearly enough.  At some point, the air just stops working.  I instantly know this when I realize I cannot breathe.    I feel like a bug trapped in a jar.  We have to roll down the windows which I am totally not digging.  Everyone is staring at us.  I shove   anything that looks like we have money down on the floor out of sight.

 

These are turning into some serious pissed of Haitians!  There are so many people everywhere, there’s no room to move.  I feel like I am suffocating.  Some people are looking at me like they would like to kill me.  I slid down into the seat in an attempt to blend in.  I don’t want to drink anything even though I have no spit in my mouth.  I know there is no bathroom in my horizon. In fact the only bathroom I will know will be the one at point A and the one at Point B.  

  .

 I’m preparing at any moment to people to flip our vehicle over, rip us out and tear us limb from limb as a punishment for adding more traffic to the mix here.  It didn’t happen.  I still try to smile and wave at some people.  Most do wave back.  There’s a lady in front of us sitting in a tap tap.  She’s pretty old, and she keeps patting her chest.  We all decide that if one of us unexpectedly dies, we will have to leave them behind.  Ambulances and police cars blare their sirens in an attempt to move.  It doesn’t   happen.  Nobody is going anywhere anytime soon.

I cannot believe the amount of garbage!  You can’t even begin to appreciate (or not appreciate) what a hell hole this place is.  It’s truly indescribable. Even with all the photos I took, you will not even understand what it is like at this moment in time.  I cannot find even an adjective that will do     

it justice.

Among all the trash, people are selling vegetables, clothes, TV remotes, sugar cane, water, pop, plantain chips, everything is sold here.  There is a strong flow of fifthly water coming down from the mountain.  It carry’s everything it comes in contact with. We saw a fat pig in a river of sludge, just having a hay day.  I can’t even imagine what it is eating nor do I want to.  There are kids in a concrete ditch area bathing.  I find it ironic that a boy is butt naked, totally lathered in soap, and rinsing in this black water.  How clean does really think he’s going to get?

One of the reasons we are not moving.

Where dust comes from

I’m getting agitated and claustrophobic and am realizing soon I will go stark raving mad!  I will jump out of the car and just run aimlessly down the street screaming at the top of my lungs until I am killed by someone who cannot take anymore of my antics. 

There’s a few feet of water in the roadway and some vehicles have stalled, other ones overheated and others simply gave up and died on the street.  This is what is compounding our lack of forward progress.  They have these big charter buses down here which in theory sound like a good idea but as far as a practical sense, totally too big and further tie up traffic simply because they cannot navigate.   I only caught the tail end of the conversation but the buses are called “Obama” because maybe he had them brought down or something.  Either way, it’s supposedly a   “positive” Obama thing.

I’m secretly thinking, “I can’t believe we have not had an accident since everything whizzes by us inches away”.  I don’t want to jinx us.  I mostly don’t want to crash because I don’t want to explain the whole car rental ordeal to my husband.  I’m hoping in my mind, that I will not have to max out the credit card on this car.

Before we left, we were told it would take about a few hours to get to Jacmel.  We are already 2 hrs. in and haven’t even left town.  Believe it or not, eventually we make it out of the blokes (like  blow-kees as in traffic jam).

Instantly, the noise level is taken down to levels I can began to use my brain again  Oriol says we should get gas, because the gas gauge doesn’t work and soon we will have to drive across the mountain to the other side.  The first gas station is closed and we make it to the second on.  I am pleading for Jamie to commandeer me a Prestige to take the edge off.  It didn’t happen and I think it was a good thing since there is no bathroom on the horizon.

Mountain House

I’d say within an hour after we left the gas station, I realize I’m a little woozy.  I eat a little snack.  It didn’t help.  Now I realize that I am woozy because I am smelling gas…quite strongly.  We asked Oriol to stop, one so Jamie could pee and to see why we are smelling gas.  The gas cap was on nice and tight, but about 5 minutes later, there is a nice big flowing puddle.  Finding out your vehicle is leaking gas in very rural area in the mountains is a bit unsettling.  Secretly I was wondering if they had any yurts for us to use up in dis dem parts of the hills. (bad attempt at some strange slang).  We would be crashing at someone’s house up here or taking refuge in a church.  We are in the middle of nowhere.

Mountains

Oriol is a cautious driver, very very cautious driver. So much so that he is white knuckling it the entire entire trip.  He won’t talk on his phone or eat while driving.  Unfortunately, he is driving so slow that even the most overloaded tap tap passes us.  It’s too slow and the gas is killing my brain cells by the minute.  We don’t know how badly the gas is leaking and have no choice but to drive. 

Overlooking Jacmel

Jamie had got the directions to the hotel from their website and once we finally made it into Jacmel it said it was about a 7 minute car ride.  They lie.  Time has no boundaries in Haiti.  In fact, I don’t believe they even use time in the sense we do.  It’s maddening!

We make out way down the little gravel road to the hotel.  It looks like we are at someone’s house.  No valet, no grand reception area, we have to be directed where to go because you don’t 

know.  I cannot wait to flee the highly gasoline scented vehicle. 

When you check in here, you have to show your passport and rooms are charged by the person not the room itself.  $55 a person for a sterile and sparsely decorated room.  It would be the equivalent of a 1-2 star back a home.  The beds are clean, there is liquor, and hot water and wi fi (the wi fi is like how it was back in the day when you plugged it into your phone line), we have a pool and the ocean at our disposal..  

We are living la Vida "loco"!  Beautiful beach and sunsets!  This could be anywhere in the Caribbean. We are sucked back into reality when we think about the car. 

 

In the morning (it is now Monday) we call the rental place and explain that gas is all over.  The interior stinks so bad its nauseating.  The car place says they don’t have an extra car in Jacmel to exchange.  They will drive one here from Port au Prince and assure us they will arrive in three hours.  Like that’s going to happen.  We were supposed to have the returned by 7pm but I think we will be ok.  I also know that we probably won’t be back until a lot later and will have to take a motorcycle back home once we drop the car off.  It should be interesting will all of our stuff.  We have to check out of our room in about an hour and we will be prisoners here until our new car comes.

I’m going to make the most of the day and drink heavily because I know something else will fall apart as far as plans.  Jamie just wanted to be mad.  I told her she was entitled to be mad.  Even the best laid out plans will inevitably fall apart  It’s just the way it goes..  I told her I am glad of that in a sense that they did, it would not make for an exciting story for this reporter.