Haiti - Saturday Continued

Ok, so...Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  On my first ride in the tap-tap....

We pulled away from the puny airport and onto the packed streets of Cap Haitian.  There are no lanes in Haitian roads.  There's not much pavement, for that matter.  Mostly dirt, which is mud when it rains.  Lots of honking and the biggest potholes I've ever seen.  I will never complain about American potholes again.  Little boys and girls on the street waved and smiled.  A van ahead of us was transporting fowl - ducks, hens, roosters and doves.  They were tied upside down on the top of the van.  At first, I thought the animals were dead, but I soon realized they were alive.  Very alive--flapping, squaking and looking around.  For a moment, I questioned the humane-ness of the situation, but decided in the end that it was ok.  They were animals, not people.  They were about to be dinner for some hungry Haitian family.  After all, at that moment, I was feeling rather like a farm dog, standing in the back of a truck.  Many Haitians don't have ready access to a refrigerator for food storage, so they keep the birds live until it's time to cook and eat.  I know I risk offending my dog-loving friends here, but I'll say it anyway.  I think Americans (in general) spend way too much money on pets.  Do we really need doggie daycare, gourmet doggie treats and designer doggie clothes for our pets when people in Haiti and other places in the world (even the USA) don't have homes, clothes or food?  I guess maybe that's an issue to blog about some other time...

After 10 minutes or so of battling traffic and dodging potholes, it began to rain.  Haitians standing in store doorways laughed at us - drenched and on display.  We arrived at Manno & Prisca's home thoroughly soaked.  Their home is set off an alley that connects to a main road.  They live in a very nice part of town.  Their house has a lovely courtyard and several rooms with balconies.  The windows have glass, but it's slotted and never closes completely, so there's always a breeze and sounds of Haiti floating through.  Gauzy drapes, tiled floors, tall ceilings.  Tropical and inviting...

We quickly changed into dry clothes and ate lunch that was prepared by 5 or so Haitian women in the kitchen.  Fruit salad, spaghetti with chicken and carrots.  There is always water and tea to drink.  The women wait while we eat and then we take our dishes in and say, "Merci!"  I am not used to being waited on and it makes me feel... weird.  The children who belong to these women stay here, too.  One boy and two girls.  One girl is 8 and the other is 2 or 3 and makes me think of Elli.  The boy is 10 or 12, I think.  The 8 year old girl spoke to me today and told me her name is Amelie--or at least, that's what I heard...

We then had time to unpack some of our suitcases and put all of our wet stuff up to dry out.  Some took naps, some watched TV.  Yes!  TV.  I was so surprised.  They have satellite.  Later, we had dinner - BBQ sandwiches.  I had time to explore after the rain stopped and took some photos.  I also met Fluffy the dog.  He is Manno & Prisca's pet, I guess.  He is kind of stinky and mangy, but loves a good back scratch.  He is not allowed in the house, but has free reign of the grounds all day.  I soon found out that while Fluffy is king during the day, he cowers during the night.  Here's what happens here starting at dusk...

First, all power in Haiti (at least in Cap Haitian) is turned off about the time the sun sets.  At that time, Manno's house runs off of a closet full of car batteries.  Around 9 pm, someone releases the hounds that are kept in cages all day - there are 4 of them.  They're guard dogs, not the kind of dogs you want to cozy up to.  The whine and cry in anticipation of being let out, and then bark wildly as they get their first taste of freedom.  They bark and bark as they hunt down Fluffy, and then they get revenge for his taunting them all day.  When he finally yelps "uncle" and slinks off to a hiding spot, they run around the grounds and bark some more.  After a while, they quiet down a little.  When the batteries begin to run down, the generator kicks on - which is usually around 3 am.  The hum of the generator drowns out the dog noises and if you're still awake then, you might finally be able to drift off.

...to be continued.  (Yes, there's more.  I had a lot to absorb on my first full day.)