Haiti - Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Three more days of Haiti.  Then, I will be heading home to my family.  I can't wait to see them.  I woke up this morning missing them.  I realized today that this is the longest amount of time I've gone without talking to Mark in the nearly 10 years we've been married.  I wonder how he is and if he misses me...

It rained all night again, but we woke up to clouds.  The soccer field was a swamp and it was almost comedic to see the kids slipping and sliding around, splashing in the puddles.  They/we were so dirty!  

It was a rough day with the kids today.  The problem was that the middle-grade kids were not in testing or class this morning when the littlest ones were having their soccer camp at 8:30 am.  So, while we tried to get the little ones playing, the middle ones were stealing the balls and running off.  We tried to chase them down and keep them off the field, but it was futile.  We were all so frustrated and disappointed for the little ones.  

What made it all worse was that the children were very irritating.  "Give me my shoes."  "Give me a dolla."  "I am hungry."  "Give me my cap."  Grrr....They were relentless.  I was reading last night about Jesus spending time with even the dirtiest, most diseased sinners.  If he could do that, surely I can be patient with these children.

We talked to Prisca and she decided to cancel the 10:30 camp for the middle grade students.  She called them all into the church--all 300 or so--and yelled at them.  I couldn't understand all that she was saying, but I'm pretty sure she said that she was very disappointed in their behavior because it ruined the camp for the younger children and because it was disrespectful to us.  She told them not to come tomorrow until 10:30 or, if they came earlier, to stay off the field.  If they disobey again tomorrow, the camp will be cancelled again.  But, if they behave better, they can play.  After she was done, she came over and told us, "I told them you all were REALLY mad!"  That wasn't quite what we were trying to convey.  So, Kim asked if she could say something to the group.  Prisca translated as Kim told the children that we would pray for them to be forgiven for their bad choices and for them to do better the next day.

They all filed out of the church somberly.  I was feeling the same way.  Their punishment was punishment for me, too.  I felt bad for the ones who did behave well.  

So, after lunch, I went "calling."  We walked with our interpreter, Parice, in the streets of Pillatre.  He took us into people's houses and I finally got to see firsthand the extreme poverty of the majority of people of Haiti.  Manno's house is very different from the houses I saw today.  His house is big and modern and in a nice neighborhood.  (He said his neighbors are doctors, engineers and drug dealers.)  

The first house was a one-room box with walls of concrete bricks.  There was a big opening in the brick for a door and other smaller opening for a window.  There were strips of cloth hung over the door and window as curtains.  There was no bathroom, no kitchen.  Just a small bed and a couple of chairs and shelves.  10 people lived there, including a 2 week old baby.

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Side note: I just heard Talia call out, "Maman!" and it made my heart ache to hear someone calling that name for me.

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There are always dogs at every house.  It's their security system.  The dogs are locked up all day, just like Manno's dogs.  Then, they're let out to be guard dogs at night.  The next house we stopped at was also full of people.  The elderly man who greeted us explained that one house was his first house with his wife.  Then, as their children grew and married and grandchildren were born, they built houses up around that first house.  They were clustered together, but not quite touching.  A young girl was sitting outside washing dishes.  She was beautiful. (Don't you think?  See her photo above.) 

They were a very welcoming, very happy family.  His wife hugged me and touched my face, saying something sweet in Creole.  She made me think instantly of my grandma at home.  Several grandchildren loitered around, examining us and playing, so I photographed grandma with all of them.  One of the women had a 2 month old baby boy.  Megan held him and I took pictures.  The grandfather asked us to pray with the family before we left, so we did with help from Parice.  We prayed for the baby and for the family and their homes.  

We then went on to meet a witch doctor.  While some folks in Haiti are Christian, most of them practice voodoo.  The witch doctor showed us candles he was making for a voodoo ceremony.  People come to him with problems or tragic situations to be cleansed.  At the end of the ceremony, the witch doctor eats the remainder of the candle.  Yes, you read that correctly.  He eats the candle.  Mmmmm...!

Next, we met a woman who thought we were rich and wanted money to buy a new dress.  Then, we saw a man who was making a big round flatbread over an open fire.  He coated it with coconut and sugar and then flipped the whole thing over like a pancake.  I wanted to taste it, but we have been advised not to eat food on the street.  I decided not to take any chances.  

Now, the day is almost over.  I'm praying the next few days are not as long as this one.  I need some rest.

Haiti - Monday, March 23, 2009

Today was the first day of the soccer camp in Pillatre.  Now I know why my fellow missionaries were laughing at me when I described my ideas about soccer drills and games. (I mentioned that maybe a white board with Xs and Os would help them understand since I couldn't explain in Creole.)  

Here's what the layout for the day looked like:

7 am breakfast

7:30  load up on the tap-tap

8 am arrive at Pillatre, set up soccer goals, tools, T-shirts and food

9 am Group 1 Soccer Camp - preschool through 1st grade

10:30 dismiss Group 1

11 am Group 2 Soccer Camp - 2nd-6th grades

12:30  dismiss Group 2

12:40  lunch

2:30  Group 3 Soccer Camp - 7th-12th grades (plus a few even older students)

4:30 load up on the tap-tap

5 pm arrive back at Cap Haitian for clean up and dinner

7 pm  devotions, team meeting

9 pm collapse exhausted after the dogs are released for the night

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When we got to Pillatre around 8 am this morning, a huge swarm of children came running out of buildings to greet us.  They were shouting and waving--they were so excited!  They had the biggest smiles...I took a photo of the crowd from the tap-tap (see above).  It was probably the closest feeling I've had to what a celebrity must feel like.  As teachers corralled the children back into their classrooms, we got out of the truck and began setting up.  I examined the soccer field.  

My assessment?  Not good.  There was a huge dirt pile at one end, and big puddles at the other.  There were no out-of-bounds lines drawn.  There were huge rocks scattered all over the field, and finally, the 6 inch tall weeds needed to be mowed down.  "You get what you get and you don't get upset" is what I always tell my kids.  So, I said that to myself and moved on.  We set up the goals and nets.  We used some string and stakes to mark off one large field that we would split into two halves to have two games going at once.  Then, we used white spray paint to mark the lines.  There were small clusters of boys following me around the field.  They thought I was crazy, picking up stones and pitching them off the field.  But, some of them joined in and helped.  

The first group of kids assembled in the new church (Quick side story - there is a church currently in use in Pillatre, but the congregation has grown so much that a larger church is being built.  It's MUCH bigger.  So far, just the shell of the building is there.  Everything inside still needs to be finished.  Manno anticipates that it will be next January before the new church will open.).  We were expecting 200 children in that first group, but there were nearly 400.  Wow!  I heard them singing songs and after a little while, some of them--maybe 60--emerged onto the field in their new camp T-shirts.   The littlest ones were very little.  I was expecting preschoolers, but not toddlers.  Apparently, some younger siblings had tagged along. 

I had no idea how to get soccer drills going with kids ranging from age 1 to 7.  We set up large circles of kids, and had them pass soccer balls back and forth as best as we could.  We realized then that we needed to separate the very little children the next day at camp.  But today, we muddled through chaos until 10:30 when we dismissed them.  At 11 am, Group 2 assembled in the church.  They got their T-shirts, food, and sang songs.  And, did I mention that at the start of each camp, someone from our group gave a brief testimony with the aid of a translator? It was so awesome to hear their child voices singing, the sound ricocheting off of the walls and carrying out the windows...I didn't recognize many of the songs they sang, but I did hear the Creole version of "Deep and Wide" and "Father Abraham."  

The soccer set up for Group 2 was much more organized.  We set up two fields and had the boys play a game on one and the girls on the other.  It took a while for this concept to catch on. Fortunately, there was a Haitian woman who worked with me to help get the children divided into teams.  One team tied their T-shirts around their waists and the other team kept their shirts on.  And, they played in their school uniforms!  Many of the kids wore sandals to school, but sandals don't work well for soccer.  So, they just played barefoot--ouch. Well, ouch for me, but they must be used to it.  

The girls were shocked by the fact that they had their own field and their own ball.  Their shock quickly gave way to excitement.  I have thought a lot about why the girls seemed so surprised.  I don't think they get to play very often.  I don't think the boys get to play very often either, but I think the girls play even less.  So, when you hardly ever have a place to play soccer, much less a ball, competition gets pretty fierce.  I'm guessing that the boys don't often let the girls play... Anyway, they had a ball (pun intended).

Group 2 dismissed at about 12:30.  A few ladies from  the house in Cap Haitian arrived with sack lunches for us.  I was tired, but on a high from the first two camps.  Around 2 pm, a group of about 20 high school boys showed up for the last soccer camp of the day.  I could tell they were serious.  A few of them even had cleats.  They were ready to play.  They gathered in the church and with the help of a translator, I introduced myself and prayed with them, and we headed out to the field.  I decided to play the role of referee for their game, keeping time on my watch and calling fouls as needed.  They called most of their own fouls and worked out the penalties themselves.  They played shirts vs. skins and they were good.  Very fast.  It was fun just to watch.  By the end of the game, they were referring to me as "coach."  See above for a photo of the winning team.

It was so exciting to see all the children today.  They didn't hold their distance like most of the adult Haitians I've met so far.  They got up close.  They talked to me (and they didn't care about our language barrier), touched me, held my hands, hugged me, and taught me clapping games like I used to do at recess in 6th grade.  As I expected, they were fascinated by my blonde hair and fair skin and light eyes.  They touched all of my freckles on my arms...ran their hands through my ponytail...and examined my sunburned shoulders.  

The other thing I experienced that I hadn't expected was that the children wanted me to give them everything.  "Give me my shoes," they'd say.  Of course, they really meant to say, "give me your shoes." Or, "Give me my cap."  "Give me my watch."  They'd ask over and over again.  I learned quickly to just say no.  I had so much to give!  But, not my watch, shoes, or hat.  They also wanted me to take their picture.  "Photograph," they'd say, and then they'd strike a pose.  I'd take their photo and then, just like American kids, they'd want to see themselves on the review screen.

It rained on us yet again during our ride back to Cap Haitian in the tap-tap.  We cleaned up and had a dinner of cooked cabbage and mushroom casserole and creamed corn, with pudding for dessert.  What?  That doesn't sound appealing?  Well, let me just say that when you're tired and hungry, you eat.  We had devotions and our team meeting and a big laugh when Deb said, "So, Sarah, now you understand why we thought your Xs and Os were so funny?"  I am exhausted and yet already excited about another day of camp tomorrow.  I love soccer.  I am so thankful for this opportunity to connect with these Haitian children through our shared love of this sport.  Even if they can't understand what I'm saying, they understand that I'm passionate about soccer.  And, they understand that I'm here because I love them and care about them.

Haiti - Sunday, March 21, 2009

Only once last night did I wake up to the barking dogs.  Otherwise, I slept until I heard women working outside my window around 6 am.  Most people here in Haiti get going early in the morning.  I'm guessing it's mainly because they have to walk to get where they're going--they don't hop on a train or in their car.  Well, some people here do have cars, but given the state of the roadways, it's not much quicker than walking.  

I am so proud of myself for being able to sleep well last night.  I'm surprised, really.  At home, I cannot sleep with windows open.  But here, the windows, doors...everything is wide open.  It rained all night, but somehow the sound was soothing to me.

It rained hard all through breakfast: toast & jelly, eggs with bacon mixed in, and fresh bananas and pineapple.  They are the tastiest bananas and pineapples I have ever had.  Mmmmm. 

We all got ready and dressed.  We went to church in Pillatre, which is a small town near Cap Haitian where Manno is the pastor.  The church campus also has a school and it's where we'll be doing the soccer camp this week.  Manno and Prisca, our hosts, have two vehicles and the tap-tap.  Since it was raining so hard, we had to get to Pillatre in the two vehicles.  We asked Prisca, "How many can fit in your Jeep?"  "Hmmm," she responded, "American style or Haitian style?" We all laughed and assured her that we were up for riding Haitian style.  Haitian style is people crammed in on top of one another--maybe even a few on top or hanging off the sides.  For real!  We saw a truck just today where a guy was driving--DRIVING--with half of his body hanging out the window.  A car that fits 6 people in America fits 12 in Haiti...maybe 15 if they're smaller-sized people.  

So, we packed 10 people into the Jeep.  We began to pile in and Manno said I should sit up front in the middle ("the tiny one" he called me - I love him for that). "Wait," he said as I began to climb in.  He ran back into the house and came back with two pillows.  That's when I knew it was going to be a rough ride.  I have never seen potholes like I saw today.  They weren't even potholes.  They were craters.  I was so thankful for those two pillows.  I don't think we ever got over 30 mph.  And, all the craters were filled with water and mud, thanks to the last 12 hours of rain.  

We saw some strange sights on the road to Pillatre.  People walking, people on motorbikes, people in trucks.  Some trucks stuck.  There are animals that root through the garbage piles on the sides of the roads--pigs, goats, cows.  I think I saw a pony and a donkey, too.  And there are rusting-out vehicles scattered here and their on the shoulder of the road.  I imagine they are vehicles that got stuck or broke down right there in that spot and were simply abandoned. Many men walking on the road carry machetes.  I wonder why...

The drive to Pillatre took about 35 minutes.  When we got to church, we went straight in.  I don't know what time church usually starts, but today it started when Pastor Manno arrived.  I have been told that on a typical Sunday, there are hundreds of people who worship here.  But, with all the rain, many people can't make the trip.  There were about 50 people there, plus the 15 on my team.  There was singing, preaching, more singing, more preaching, and looooooong prayers.  The music was beautiful, even though I didn't understand the words.  I met a few children who let me take their pictures.  The whole congregation was dressed up in their best clothes, despite the fact that they had to walk a long way on muddy roads.  Some of them walked all that way barefoot--carrying their shoes, so that they were clean when they put them on at church. The little girls have their hair all done, with lots of bows.  Danielle would have loved to see it.

I watched out the windows during the service as the rain stopped and the sky began to clear. By the time we left church to head back to Cap Haitian, the sun was out.  I noticed as we left that a hearse was parked near the church.  Manno said that there was a funeral this afternoon.  I wonder who has died, but have decided not to ask.  

After church, we hung out back at the house in Cap and had a simple lunch.  Haitians don't do any work on Sundays, including cooking.  Later in the day, we went for a walk on the main road to the "car wash." I have never felt so vulnerable and uncomfortable in my life.  We were 13 white people on parade (yes, 13 - Arizona was napping and Kevin?  Well, they think he's Haitian.  People in the airport gave him very strange looks when they realized he didn't speak Creole).  It occurred to me that I was feeling, perhaps, what black people in the American South may have felt a few decades ago... I could see some people carrying machetes, and I didn't know how many others may have had concealed weapons.  Some people we encountered were friendly, some ignored us, and others were pretty open about the fact that they didn't like us.  There's a lot you can understand through facial expressions, tone of voice, and body language. I was glad we were there in daylight, and not in the dark of night.

The "car wash" is a broad stretch of a stream in Cap Haitian, where there is enough shore for people to drive their cars up, so that the wheels are immersed, and wash their cars off.  It's the same stream where you can also see animals drinking (and I would assume, defecating), people bathing, and others collecting water to take home for cooking and drinking.  Oh, and the stream is also used as a garbage dump.  Garbage, garbage, garbage.  It's everywhere.  The smell is overpowering.  It's the smell of decay.  I began to wonder if improvements could be made simply by educating people about the basics of sanitation and waste disposal, but I think there are many things I don't know or understand about the complexities of life and politics in Haiti. 

On the way back to the house, I observed a second common form of security around here (the first being guard dogs).  Broken glass bottles cemented on top of the walls around the property, sharp ends up.  Clever.  Nice reuse of material!  It's even kind of colorful and pretty...  

I miss my family tonight.  I long to hold and love on my children and sing them a song at bedtime.  I have felt very strange today about having some "down time." Almost guilty, I think. So much time to myself today.  Usually, at home, I have cooking, cleaning, laundry or childcare to do.  There's always SOMETHING that needs to be done! But here, after dinner is prepared for me, I eat and put my dishes in the kitchen and then....DO WHATEVER I WANT.  

I don't know what to do with myself.  I stood on the balcony and listened for a while to some children nearby who were singing, their voices carrying on the breeze.  So sweet.  Birds calls... A little lizard scampered across some tiles on the roof.  I think I surprised a neighbor girl when she realized I was watching her.  She began to dash inside her house and fell down.  I'm guessing it's not everyday that she sees a strange white lady watching her from up here.  She must have gone inside and told her mother she saw me, because her mother came out to see me for herself.  I smiled and waved and called, "Bonswa!"  And she smiled and waved back.  My first successful exchange in Creole!

Baby B

I interrupt my Haiti journal to bring you Baby B.  I just can't wait to share a few of these photos with you.  This little boy is so precious and his arrival is a long-awaited promise from the Lord. Showers of blessings on you, sweet one!

Haiti - Saturday Conclusion

I am so tired tonight that I think I'll be able to sleep ok, despite the dogs outside and the rain falling.  There are three women here in my room.  Liz, Alyssa, and me.  Alyssa and I are sharing the double bed and Liz is sleeping on a mattress on the floor.  I think we have the best room in the house.  We have our own balcony (which is great for hanging up wet clothes, except that they never seem to completely dry...mainly because it keeps raining) AND we have our own bathroom. The bathroom looks like a pretty typical bathroom.  There are a few differences in how you use it here, though.  There is TP in the bathroom, but it can't go in the stool.  No flushing TP.  Use it, and then throw it in the trash.  Oh, and use it sparingly because the roll you brought from home has to last all week.  It's a surprisingly hard habit to break.  

I also learned how to take a "Navy style" shower.  They do a lot of things here to conserve water, and this type of shower is one of them.  You turn on the shower and get yourself wet--oh, and btw, the water is cold.  Turn off the water and then soap up, wash hair and shave.  Then, turn the water on again and rinse off.  The water from the tap is not filtered, either, so you have to be careful not to get it in your mouth.  

Finally, you must remember to use your bottle of water to brush your teeth and rinse your toothbrush.  

As I sit here in bed with my ipod on, I'm getting pretty sleepy.  Back at home, my two girls have been fast asleep for hours... I hope.  I wonder what Mark is doing.  I realized today that this trip will be the longest time that I will have not spoken to Mark in 10+ years.  While there have been other times that we've been apart, we've always had email or cell phones to talk on.  This time is different.  My cell says there's no service.  I've turned it off and put it downstairs in Manno's office, which is locked.  No computer here, either.  Completely out of touch for the next 6 days.  It's going to go by fast...right?  G'night!

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.)

Haiti - Saturday, March 21, 2009

Wondering who is on my mission trip team?  Kim and Mike Hatfield are our team leaders.  Their son, Johnmark, who lives in Chicago, is on the team, too.  There is one more Hatfield on the team - Elizabeth Hatfield, aka Liz.  She's a teacher in Pontiac, but is not related to Kim, Mike or Johnmark.  Then, there is the Wilcox family - Todd, Deb, and their son, Jared.  Tim Thul, Kevin Jones, and Alyssa Garvin are also on the team.  Tim Miller, who we call Arizona, is on our team. Can you guess where he's from?  Meghan and Brian Ernst are on the team and Meghan's dad, Paul.  And me.  That makes 15. 

Our team's motto for this trip = "Be Flexible."

It's about 5 pm here in Cap Haitian, Haiti.  I think.  Things here don't seem to run according to clocks.  We were up early at the hotel in Miami for breakfast.  I don't think I slept more than an hour or two.  Mainly, I think, because of the Dr. Pepper I drank on the flight from Chicago to Miami.  Also, because of all the noises, an uncomfortable pillow, and anxiety.  Well, maybe not anxiety--maybe anticipation is the better word.  

We had breakfast and got to the airport.  The flight to Port-au-Prince left at 10:10 am, and it was about a 2 hour flight.  Uneventful.  I listened to Haitian people sitting nearby.  The airport in Port-au-Prince was different than any I'd seen.  Straight out of the plane, off of a ladder and onto the tarmac.  I felt like a President.  A Haitian band was playing just inside the airport doors.  We went through customs and had to fight for our 34 bags of luggage.  Many adult men wanted to "help" us load up.  They'd grab a bag from my hands and say "no problem, no problem."  I had to hold on tight and continue to refuse.  Otherwise, we would have had to pay all of them.

We got everything loaded and onto a small shuttle that took us from one part of the airport to the other.  There was a large crowd of Haitian people standing behind a rail watching us.  The called me "missus" or "blanc" (white).  So, the bus took us to the other side and we stood around while security people poked through our bags.  In the end, they decided they couldn't fit all of us AND our 34 bags onto the small prop plane we were taking from Port-au-Prince to Cap Haitian.  So, we boarded and most of the bags stayed.  They'll be brought to us in Cap in a day or so.  Too bad I left my bug spray in one of those bags.

The plane was the smallest one I've been on and we didn't fly very high.  Just enough altitude to get over the mountains.  The view was beautiful and the ride was bumpy.  When we went through the clouds, my stomach would flip as the plane pitched up, down, and side-to-side.  At one point, I thought I was going to throw up, but it passed quickly.  I sat by the window and watched the big city of Port-au-Prince disappear.  Slums and tightly packed streets gave way to countryside, rolling hills, and then mountains.  Patchwork quilts of fields and meadows where goats and cows and pigs grazed.  Not big herds as one might drive past on country roads in Illinois, but half a dozen or so animals dotting the landscape here and there.

We landed on an airstrip that looked like it ended in the ocean.  There were Haitians standing around watching us again.  A group of three boys offered to let me take their "foto" for "one dolla."  I passed, and then they asked for food.  A bony, three-legged, mangy dog hobbled by.  I think he must have lost that leg pretty recently.  We immediately boarded a "tap tap."  It was a truck with benches and rails to stand and hold onto.  I found out why it's called a tap tap.  Because if you want the driver to stop the truck to let people get on or off, you tap on the top of the cab.  I was glad to be standing in the truck - the ride sitting would have left me with a sore backside.

...to be continued...