Are We There Yet?

Tuesday, February 9th

6:30 a.m. (Ride to Haiti) It takes roughly six hours to drive to Haiti from the Dominican Republic so we needed to get an early start. The driver and I were accompanied by a Spanish-speaking American girl who served as our translator (the driver doesn’t speak English). I literally feared for my life during the drive to Haiti. I will admit that the driver is very skillful but he took too many chances by dodging in and out of traffic while trying to get around slow moving vehicles. But, the translator was feisty and made sure to keep him in check when he pushed the limit (which is what he did throughout most of the trip). At one point he decided to slow down. He told the translator that “losing five minutes is better than losing your life”. And I was sitting there trying to figure out why it took him 4 ½ hours to realize this!

10:30 a.m. (Border Patrol) We were stopped at the border and asked to go in to customs. I was told by the translator that this normally doesn’t happen. We were directed to pull into a dusty parking lot and escorted into a tiny building. There were so many Spanish and Creole speaking people in there and I was absolutely confused. The little Spanish that I know went completely out the window. I felt so intimidated to the point that I found myself searching for even the simplest words within my limited Spanish vocabulary. We were stuck at the border for about 30 minutes and it was hot as hell. I thought that I was going to pass out. The customs officer took our passports and I planted myself at the window to make sure no one walked off with our them. A line formed behind me and we were packed at the window like sardines in a can. I had to pay close attention to make sure that no one was trying to slip their hands into my pocket. The officer told us that we couldn’t cross the border because the translator had not paid her tourist fees in Santo Domingo (she has been living there for 1 ½). Finally the driver was able to privately speak with the female officer. I guessed he sweet talked her into letting us go because she started smiling and handed the passports back to me. I later found out that he asked her to show some compassion because we were only relief workers traveling to help the Haitian people.

12:00 p.m. (Blue Water) A guard finally opened the blue gate which divided Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The border sits in a city called Jimani on the D.R. side. Along the border lies a beautiful body of water that flows on both the D.R. and Haitian. Sadly, it's the only beauty that the two countries share. On the D.R. side you will see lush greenery, which is in sharp contrast to the Haitian side. Haiti looked like a different place and time. I couldn’t understand how two countries sharing the same island could be so extremely different in appearance. It was like night and day. The D.R. side of the border breath life, while the Haitian side sucked life away.

2:00 p.m. (To Pee, or Not to Pee) I met with my team member at the airport in Port-au-Prince. The translator and I had to use the bathroom and the Haitian guards there were trying to give us a hard time. As we walked away in search of another place to empty our bladder a guard called us back and pointed us in the direction of a portable restroom. I opened the door to be greeted by a sickening stench that made me want to puke. The toilet was filled with human waste and flies encircled the bowl. I told the translator that I couldn’t do it (although my bladder felt as if it was going to burst). She went in and thought the same but said that she just couldn’t hold it. I stood guard at the door as she went for it. It gave me enough time to talk myself into going in next. I thought about the poor people suffering in Haiti and tried to picture myself in their shoes. I went in and covered my face with my shirt and held my breath as long as possible until I couldn’t anymore. I then pulled my shirt over my head and breathed into it (I should have grabbed a face mask out of my bag). I prayed that this was the not the beginning of worse to come.

4:00 p.m. (Tent City) I spent a couple of hours at one of the “tent cities” in a place called "Dadado"( where some displaced Haitians are living.) This particular camp is set up on a soccer field. Although people lives have been disrupted by the earthquake they seem to remain in good spirits and are very resilient. I felt so guilty about the little things that I complain about back at home after seeing them smiling and going about as if nothing happened.

7:00 p.m. (Home Away From Home) After sitting in traffic for about an hour we made it to the house where I am staying. The house is huge and I am set up in a large room with three beds: one full size, and two twin size. I chose one of the twin size beds. The house is nice but there is no hot water for taking showers and the bathroom doors don’t have locks. I hate cold showers and it is a challenge for me to do so every night. It was my first night here and I didn’t sleep well. I jumped out of bed because something stuck me on my leg. I turned on the light and spotted a huge cockroach zip across the floor. I pulled the back the bed cover and expected to find a bug but instead I found a tiny piece of wood sticking out of the sheet. I settled back in bed but could barely sleep because the rooster outside was apparently confused and crowed throughout the night. Also, there was a lot of traffic that night and I jumped every time I heard a loud noise. I can admit the main reason for not being able to rest was because I feared there would be another earthquake.