Arrival, October 28, 2008

Hot muggy air riding on an ocean breeze greeted our faces as we stepped off the plane onto the tarmac.  The smell of woodsmoke road on the wind.  The breeze was welcome. On the plane toward Port-Au-Prince, anxiety rode high, butterflies doing dive-bombs in our bellies.  But the warm Haitian air seemed to calm the madness in our minds.  

Customs was easier than expected.  I almost had to laugh at the lazy approach the agents took to questioning our belongings or purpose.  "You have medications?" "Yes, they are for personal use." "OK"  No bags unzipped, no rifling through carefully packed items.  And we were done.

We loaded up our 7 huge 50lb bags and rolled them outside of the airport where we were met with a barrage of "bellmen" crowding around our bags.  Of course they were all working for tips, and it was never just one man per customer, but I had to admit I was glad for the help. The front wheel of the cart didn't roll well which set up a precarious situation with our mountain of stuff.  A momentary panic hit when we didn't immediately see Patrick Villier waiting for us. Should we get a taxi?  How do we ask for it?  Where do we tell it to go?  Do we have enough money?  Patrick and I exchanged worried glances through the crowd of bellmen.  But one helpful man offered his phone, and we called Patrick to find he was just on the other side of the waiting area.  Crisis averted.  So on we lumbered surrounded by our caravan of helpers. Once tipped, loaded and greeted heartily by Patrick Villier, we were on our way down the roads of Port-Au-Prince.

I was surprised to not feel as shocked by what I saw driving down the roads.  Immediately, I was grateful for our trip in March that allowed for all the shock and horror to happen in one intense week.  Instead, I recognized familiar routes, the sights and sounds seemed to welcome us, and a calm set in for the first time in days.  I found my resolve that we had made the right decision in coming.

Patrick took us to the hotel we stayed at on our first trip.  We'll stay here for a few nights until we find a guest house to move into for 3 months, and then on to our more permanent housing.  A couple of the hotel employees recognized us from our last visit and gave us warm greetings.  What a lovely welcome.  

We've spent the remainder of the evening in the room, diving hard into our Creole studies, organizing our bags, and letting the stress and worry of the last few months ebb out into the warm evening air.

I feel hopeful, inspired, ready to start learning and getting established.  I'm grateful that the fear and anxiety that we were wrapped in for so long seems to have let go.  Now the work begins. And it feels good.  Se bon.