Haiti:   Encountering Reality at Its Best and Worst!

Why Haiti? Looking vs. Seeing The Purpose The Experience The Memories
How It Began The First Look      
The Purpose Perception of City 
The Process Perception of Country      

 

The First Look at Haiti

One begins the descent onto Haitian soil wondering: Will there be a horrible smell, how do the people feel right now about Americans?  Thoughts can run the gamut. Personnel at the airport quickly point you to security.  Passports are checked, question asked and answered.  Everyone makes it through, and you're told: "Don't lose the exit visa, that little piece of colored paper."  Through security, to the baggage claim section and then one begins to experience Haiti.  Haiti is people -- lots of people in a relatively small area.  And each of them seems intent on doing something to help you -- for a fee, of course.  You've been warned: Don't let anyone touch your bags.  Arrangements have been made. It isn't easy. Baggage is checked and you are outside, going to the van provided by ICC.

There is no way an American who has never been outside the States can expect the introduction to a Third World Country.  The sheer number of people -- children four and five and adults in their 60s and 70s -- beg for money.  They want to carry your bags.  They ask outright for money.  There are so many, and you have been warned: "Don't give anything, or you'll get more on you than you can handle.  Don't encourage this unaccepted part of Haitian life by giving in to it.  They will look at you with sad eyes.  They will rub their stomachs and tell you they're hungry and you hurt inside, wanting to give but you have been told: "Don't."  You walk through the line, hearing the pleas, feeling hands touch you, and you hang on tightly to your luggage.  And, Keith has told you, "Don't give, but show respect.  Give them dignity."  You try to smile, you try to say "bonswa" --Creole for "good afternoon." They reply in kind, except they have an accent -- that or  you didn't say it properly.  You don't worry about it.  You just are glad to now be in the van, even though hands claw at the windows, and voices still cry out of a handout.

They aren't at the airport only, but everywhere, trying to survive the best they know how.  They stand in the middle of busy streets, come up to you on the sidewalk, boys and girls looking  oh so innocent that you feel guilty being afraid that they are going to steal something by force.  Sometimes you feel anger, that they have invaded your space -- and your mind.

Tip of the Hat to TapTap

If you think a rollercoaster ride is exciting, have you got something to learn. Nothing compares to a ride down the streets of Port au Prince.  At least on a rollercoaster you know there are supposed to be safety devices.  No such thing in Haiti -- no stop signs, no traffic lights (well I saw one in 10 days), no traffic cops (they aren't foolish) and no method to decide who has the right-of-way.  The race for tiny oppenings, on the main street and in side streets.  They all get there at the same time, and beep their horns, and ease forward, and back up, and get through it somehow.  Sometimes, you  just close your eyes, pray and hold on.  Whew!  I was told that if a pedestrian was struck by a car, you are expected to take them to the hospital.  If a pedestrian is killed, the driver had better not stop, because it is an unwritten law that any driver who kills a person will also be killed by the people on the street immediately.  It would, one must surmise, make you more careful.

 

At left are three pictures of the traffic.  Above is an intersection where "TapTaps" meet.  Below is a rather elaborately-decorated  TapTap.  It is the normal way of transportation in Haiti.  Most of these "taxis" are converted pickup trucks, with a top over the bed and wooden benches built for seats.  The drivers will crowd 13 to 15 people in a small TapTap.  Average cost is 5 gourdes (goodes) -- about 12 1/2 cents.

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