Cap Haitian

Back in Port-au-Prince tonight after a weekend away. Funny that coming home this afternoon felt welcoming and familiar.

We've just returned from a well-spent weekend in Cap Haitian. After leaving Milot Saturday morning, we met up with some new acquaintances and friends at a hotel on the bay. Saturday we spent time walking the streets of Cap, appreciating the architecture and lack of imposing walls surrounding every city block. We toured an art market where we were obliged to enter each and every stall so as not to offend a shop keeper, but were rewarded with funny interactions and conversations. We let our eyes drift out to the watery horizon, and tried to ignore the incredibly polluted beach scene at our feet. A swim in the ocean was not a desirable (or health-conscious) option, nor was eating anything caught from the bay. We passed canals lined with fishing boats whose sides were painted as brightly as the tap-taps on the street, and whose sails were often patchwork recycled sheets. We enjoyed sharing meals and conversation with our new friends who are currently in Haiti working on a Public Health research project.

One incredible part of living in a place like Haiti is the paths of people you have the good fortune to cross. Haiti attracts a variety of people, but most that we've met are kind, compassionate, adventure-loving, spiritual, inspired, social justice-driven people with incredible life stories. We came across such people this weekend, and the conversations were rich for it.

This morning we visited a CONASPEH member church which happened to have a big celebration in honor of the birthday of its pastor. The pastor was dressed head-to-toe in a white suit, white leather shoes, and was proud as a peacock. Church commenced at 8:30, and the last of the final songs and prayers and speeches and songs and prayers ended at 12:30. It was a marathon of a church service, but full of entertainment in the faces of the young and old that filled its seats. This was also the first Sunday that Patrick and I gave our introductions completely without the assistance of anyone familiar with English. Patrick, although not asked to give the sermon, kept having to add sentences to his ever elongating introduction at the request of the pastor who prompted, "say more" after Patrick's meager attempts to sign off. It was Creole speaking torture, but he faired well. Who's to know what thoughts were passing through the congregations heads... I pray we'll never know.

We were invited into the pastor's home after church, and shared a generous meal with he and his wife. He gave us a tour of his land, showed us the trees he was planting, his chickens and his turkeys, talked about his plans for his garden and the children he hoped to fill his home with. A young pastor recently married, his eyes were full of hope and excitement for the dream he was working diligently to reveal.

Catching the plane back home to Port-au-Prince was happily uneventful. Flying small in-country airlines is much less of a hassle than any American and/or international flight. There is not much of a security maze to weave through either. Today I had a man lazily unzip all the pockets of my book bag and scan the pockets with an uninspired eye. He did pick up and consider my completely full water bottle only to replace it snugly in my bag, and disregard the pair of scissors, the bug spray, and other mysterious items in the depths of the pockets. This was significant more security than our outgoing flight. We did put our bags through a "scanner," but discovered after passing quickly through that the x-ray TV wasn't working, and we caught the "scanner police" sleeping against the side of the machine as our bags ran through uninspected, potentially full of bottles of liquids, bombs, guns and the like. I have to say, I found it refreshing to be a place currently un-terrorized by air travel, unparanoid. No shucking off shoes, emptying briefcases, de-robing accessories, praying to make it through the scanner door without a beep. Made me like flying again. We also observed today that flying first thing in the morning is preferable to late afternoon. Late afternoon is hot. And so are all the people jammed into the tiny space of the propeller plane. Thank goodness for the incredible view.

So back home, we are anticipating a busy week back at school, that is if the children are finished with their holiday play. Happy for a good weekend full of discovery, exploration, conversation and glimpses of Haiti.