So . . . for a change of pace this weekend, I went with Carine
to Port Au Prince. I enjoy the
mountains and the little village I’ve been living in, but I think it was a much
needed change of pace. In case if
my writing had not conveyed . . . the combination of the heat, and bats, and
shatty, unpredictable internet were really starting to get to me.
This is a whole different world . . . very compact crowds of
people, the traffic, the extremes of poverty and wealth, just baffling. It seems as if every place you walk
into has a guard with a machine gun.
Fears of bats, lack of anesthesia, inability to get equipment to
function properly, 30 week premis . . . have all been exchanged with fears of
shootings, theft, and kidnappings.
Every time we get in the car with Carine’s 13 year old daughter, the
first thing she says is ‘Lock the doors, momma.’ Houses are all surrounded by concrete walls lined with
barbed wire, and the windows are barred up.
I am currently staying at one of the three houses that
Carine has (she said this one is usually rented out). She very kindly arranged for her family to switch houses for
the weekend in order to accommodate me (even though I’ve said I’d be more than
fine sleeping on the sofa). Last
night, Carine told me that she had been very suspicious of the previous tenants
of the house . . . three guys, one from Columbia who’s only form of
identification was a phony Haitian driver’s license. She said that her husband rented it out [after receiving
$18,000 USD for the entire year] while she was still living in New York. She said that they were gone at least
three months before the lease was up, but there had not been any communication
with the tenants for almost a year.
She and her husband re-entered the house with the police as she did not
know what they would find . . . dead bodies . . . drugs . . . weapons. She said that there was not a trace of
them being here, just many old egg crates, and most of the linens were
missing. All of the locks have
been changed since, but it brings a harsh reality to the world we live in. It’s like hearing stories from ‘Weeds’
but without the comedy.
Today, Carine took me further up into the mountains into the
Kenscoff area. The weather was a
bit cooler than I’m used to experiencing here (and I LOVED IT). We went to a Haitian museum, which
discussed their history, voodoo, politics, etc. . . . I had the opportunity to
barter for some art work, and to see a different side of the city. I will say there are many more white
folks here than in Roussou!
On our way back, Carine we had a discussion regarding
certain relationships. Without
being too specific, or being a gossip myself . . . I will say my morals or
beliefs of what a relationship should be is very different than here. I think the concept of sexual abuse and
cheating are just accepted as a way of life. The first time I came here, there was a young girl who came
to be seen for bleeding. Sandra
said she looked like she was going to pass out, thought she was having a
miscarriage. When I did her exam,
everything was bruised and swollen.
When I inquired more, the young girl said her boyfriend rapes and beats
her almost every day. There was
basically nothing I could do for her.
The police don’t care, there are no shelters for battered women, there
is no escaping . . . it is what is is.
Today, Carine was telling me about how someone (let’s call
him George), living in two places, has a fiancé (Let’s call her Michelle) in
one area, and is seeing someone else in another area (let’s call her
Betty). She said that ‘Betty’
knows about ‘Michelle’ . . . and ‘George’ and ‘Betty’ were supposed to just
have a casual relationship, but ‘Betty’ is in love with ‘George.’ Carine seems to feel that ‘George’
really isn’t doing anything wrong, and he was upfront with ‘Betty’ from the
start. My question . . . what
about Michelle? Carine’s response
. . . well, ‘George’ is in 2 different places, so, it really doesn’t
matter. It’s CHEATING! I’ve gotten the impression that this
kind of thing is very common here . . . and I just don’t get it (I guess I
don’t have to . . . I just refuse to be any part of it . . . very much don’t
ask, don’t tell kind of scenario).
So . . . I shall continue this little side adventure, head
back to my ‘Kansas’ of Haiti at the ass crack of dawn Monday morning, and in a
little over three weeks, head back to real Missouri (Just in time to see the
cards start another post season victory!).
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