Journal Transcript: Arrival in Haiti

11:00 a.m., having just left Kingston, Jamaica.
And we’re off! In a little Jetstream 18 seater, all 12 of us. We didn’t have to remove our shoes for security, which was just a metal detector and an xray machine. Jamaica is receding into the distance as we fly eastward to haiti. It’s a short flight, and so I guess won’t write mich. Still feeling quite nervous but looking foward to seeing Haiti and getting in Jacmel. The drive is supposed to be quite harrowing, more so than to Kingston from Tower Isle, which was stressful in some places because of other drivers’ insistence on passing on narrow mountain roads with no visibility around the curve. It was pretty though, so I am glad we went through the mountains, instead of the longer way around the island, which is how Richard, our driver, may return us “home”. I tried washing my hair with Dr. Bronner’s this mornng. It didn’t work at all; I don’t know why I keep trying that when it never works for me. Maybe I can find some shampoo in Haiti. Still not sleeping right, either, and woke up with giant bags under my eyes. Those dorms are miserably hot without fans- maybe I will just sleep in the walkway when we return there. It stormed last night and the sound of thunder and rain woke me. It cooled off a lot, thank goodness.
Oh, here’s a weird thing: before bed, the other girls’ dorm found a crab behind the door. He was about five inches long, maybe six, and his claw was wedged between wall and door. Who knows how long he’d been there. Lisa took him to the fence and dropped him over; Madge Saunders isn’t close to the water. He either found his way to water or made a meal for one of the many malnourished dogs roaming around Tower Isle.
8:20 p.m., Jacmel, Haiti
Holy shit, we’re here. Landed at Toussaint Louverture Airport in Port au Prince and were imediately mobbed by Haitians trying to sell us stuff and take our bags for us. Seven of us piled into a van with Larry, freaking out because there wasn’t enough space for all twelve of us. Drove through PaP, seeing all the devastation, all the trash, all the rubble, and all the tents. It was incomprehensible. But life goes on here: people go about their business, even when everything is in pieces, literally.

The ride through the mountains, though, was gorgeous- this is such a beautiful place, I had no idea. The compound is in an unfinished house. We have a basement and I climbed up on our roof too, which has a lovely view of the mountains and of an IDP camp, Tets Ansam (Creole for Heads Together). I’m sharing a tent with Ali but am pretty sure I will be in my mosquito net- it’s a lot cooler than a tent. Andrew, Joy, Jill, Grace, and Rod were already here, and I like them. Jill is from Newfoundland, Joy from Taiwan and living in NY, Andrew from NZ and living in LA, Rod from Devon, UK, and Grace who lives in Brussels. Let’s see... what else? We have a gorgeous compound with running water. We met our community liason, Mika, who speaks Kreyold and French. We learned that “bobo” is the word for vagina in Creole, and that Prestige is pretty good beer, which is good because it’s the only one here. Gill introduced Bobo to children as “Papa Bobo” and our Creole teacher Fanel told us it means, “you know... the pussy!” I laughed until I cried, my god. I feel so much better just being here! I am told by Larry I will meet the organization that does maternal-child health tomorrow, but that is sort of up in the air. We have a camp dog as well. She’s so sweet, but a bit skittish. The new electricity isn’t quite working right tonight, I guess, because our power keeps going off and on. We are probably going to church tomorrow morning.