the journey in
- 10 Nov 20
- 17:04
- One Comment
So, I’m finally here; 6 airports, 4 flights and aeroplanes
that became smaller and smaller. And
luggage that became lighter and lighter.
Our last flight from the Haitian Capital of Port au Prince
to Cap Haitien in the north, where the hospital is, was a little six-seater
Cessna. We were a team of 4, although
the others are only here for a couple of weeks.
They had brought vital parts for the hospital’s generator and
incinerator (amongst other things), which obviously equalled weight. I am here for a year so had maxed out on my
luggage allowance. Now this is all very
well on your wide-bodied jet flying across the Atlantic. However, in an (ancient) little single engine
thing, it wasn’t going to work out – even removing(!) the empty (6th)
seat we would not need, we still had to shed weight. It would be flown up to us the following day,
so we all spent a fun 20 minutes at check-in deciding which items we could live
without for 24 hours (I’m thinking one of many ‘Firsties’ I will encounter).
The short flight was uneventful, save glimpses of the
beautiful scenery through the clouds and then before long we were being driven
back to the ‘Volunteer Village’. It may
only have been 15 or so minutes, but it was exhausting. Not the heat and humidity, though it was
fairly high on both counts, but the sensory barrage. The poverty was apparent immediately, but
there was also a vibrancy about the place too.
Bright colours everywhere; clothing, buildings, shopfront advertising (all
hand painted), and taxis (tap-taps) all of which had incredible artwork mostly glorifying
the Lord; be it a simple statement (Glwa a Jezu) or a verse from the bible. And of course the smell, born of a mixture of
rubbish, rotting food, animal dung (and probably worse), standing water (breeding
mozzies) and all baked in the heat and humidity. Pungent.
As you might imagine, the roads were in a pretty poor state;
rutted and pot-holed, but dealing with the traffic was far more of a challenge;
there seemed to be only two rules.
#1 drive on the right – but that
does not preclude one direction of traffic taking up the whole road,
#2 the locals always have
right of way.
It was hard seeing the people lining the roads trying to eke
out a living. Every sort of activity
seemed to be going on; some cooking street-food, others selling clothes, money
changers, beauty parlours, building materials, jewellery, phones, drinks,
furniture, mechanics…a million miles from home.
Strangely, it felt comfortable.
One thought on “the journey in”
Sounds like a bit of a journey, but you got there at last!
Hope the rest if your luggage found you eventually. Good luck with everything you’re up to out there Phil!