Am I a Tourist?

This post will just be an update, because it's been a while since I've done one of those and I've taken advantage of the downtime I've had to see some of Haiti. I love my job and Hinche, but I live at my workplace (as I've said a million times) and I never "get off work," so I really do need to take time away. I'm just going to talk. Here goes.

On Saturday, August 17th, Gladias left for the US. It was a busy enough day that I didn't feel overwhelmingly sad during the actual goodbye, but I'm definitely beginning to really miss having a best friend around. The disco just isn't the same without him and I feel much more lost not having him around. He really was my window into Haitian life -- answering whatever weird questions I asked and showing me how things work here. Sigh. We enjoyed his last few weeks as much as possible, though.

The view from inside the Tap Tap

A week before he left, Gladias and I made a pretty impromptu trip to Cap Haitian, or O-Cap. O-Cap is a city located on the northern coast of Haiti. The drive took about 2 1/2 to 3 hours in our beat-up Tap Tap, driven by Gladias's best friend, Eventz. Since we were driving a Tap Tap (Haiti's version of a bus service; you tap the vehicle to get on, tap when you want to get off), we picked up people on the way and dropped them off whenever they needed it. Since there are very few main roads here, everyone knew we were ultimately going to O-Cap. Most people didn't pay. Tap Taps are a good example of how Haitians share material items with each other like it's nothing. In the US we're pretty selfish with our material items, but in Haiti, you share what you have. Gladias and I paid for the gas to get to O-Cap, but all of these people we didn't know were driving along with us and not paying.

I look so pale standing next to Haitians...

Since Haiti is, well, Haiti, I frequently forget that I am in the middle of the Caribbean! The drive along the northern coast on our way to the specific beach we intended to go to was breathtaking. The water is beautiful and clear, the coast is rocky and lush, and the homes are more colorful than ever. We spent the day at a resort, paying only $5 to use their facilities and their section of beach. The place was full of foreigners, but very few other Americans. Gladias, Eventz and I immediately ran into the water, which was clear and the perfect temperature. I spent the whole day in the sun, and the Haitians couldn't understand why I didn't want to lay in the shade. For lunch, we all got the same thing -- spaghetti bolognaise with a side of French fries. I was giddy. I made friends with some Dominican UN people, drank a Prestige or two, and even saw some other friends from Hinche -- a huge coincidence. We went home that evening.

Gladias and I spent his last week enjoying each other's company. I tried to drive his motorcycle down the Hinche air strip (failed -- I was too scared and only made it a few feet), we spent a few nights at the disco and at The Place (the central plaza in town), and spent the very last night at his house talking in depth about the airport and his connecting flight to his new hometown. I met his mom and got to see where he lives. Though he was leaving the next day, his room wasn't prepared for him to be gone. It's interesting to me. When I left the US, my room was spotless -- partially because my mom wouldn't have it any other way, partially because I know she's using it as a hotel room, but also because that's just what we do in the US. But Gladias didn't prepare his room at all. He packed up his clothes and any necessary items, knowing that he can buy whatever he needs in the US. But everything else stayed -- from his stacks of textbooks on his dresser, to the knick knacks sitting by his bed. Something I also found interesting and really sad is that he didn't tell anyone. It's the Haitian way to not share every detail of your coming and going, especially if you're going somewhere like the US, so I get it. But even the next day when we picked him up in the jeep, loaded his suitcases in the back, and were driving away, we saw Eventz. Gladias spoke to him through the metal shell of the jeep, the two shook hands, and Eventz smiled like he'd see Gladias tomorrow. I realize Gladias isn't dying, but he's pretty much gone to these people, at least for a really long time. It was overwhelmingly upsetting for me to see his best friend smile like that and not know that he's leaving for a long time. Gladias had hinted to a few staff members that he was leaving "soon," but no one knew when for sure. I don't know why no one else was as shaken up as I was over this. I need to remember that he's in my country, and that I'll see him as soon as I get home. I guess I was just imagining how betrayed I'd feel if my best friend moved away and never said anything.

The day Gladias left, however, my first visitor came. Bobby, my boyfriend, exited the airport about 20 minutes before the jeep arrived at the airport, and we picked him up before we did anything else. The day was so bittersweet and it was really weird mentally preparing myself for a huge goodbye and a great hello. I was dreading losing my best friend, but so excited for Bobby to come. Talk about some major conflicting emotions!

We said goodbye to Gladias next. When we got out of the jeep at the drop-off area, the vendors tried getting me to buy their items and the airport staff tried to help me find my check-in area. It was odd to them that the white girl was staying but the Haitian was leaving, haha. Once we hugged goodbye, off we drove to a restaurant, where we would eat lunch in almost first-world luxury before seeing off our two volunteers whose flights were much later in the day. I got a burger and fries, obviously. Then we drove home, Emmanuel and his wife, Gaelle, in the middle of the jeep, Bobby and I in the back.

On the way back, I kept trying to feel something about my surroundings so I could explain Haiti to Bobby. But I couldn't. It's like I'm so used to my environment that I'm no longer emotionally connected to the suffering inevitably happening everywhere. I kept forgetting where I was, and I've recently realized that I think that's just what's happening. I'm living in Haiti and it's no big deal anymore. I spend so much time in my luxurious, comfortable home and talking to people from home, that I don't always realize where I am. At the same time, when I ride through town on a moto and see everything around me so clearly, I'm just used to it. I'm not sure if I'm just used to my surroundings or if I'm less conscious of where I actually am. I think that's just part of what I should be feeling after being here for three months. One semester of college is 3 months, so this marks the longest I've been away from home and familiarity. Interesting, eh?

Bobby and I attended Yvanèse's wedding the first night. It was held in Pandiassou, and we knew almost nobody there. We arrived an hour late after our arrival home from PAP, thinking we'd missed the mass but would be there for whatever followed. When Yvanèse arrived in her white UN jeep, she wanted picture after picture with me...and Bobby. Haitians lined up with their cell phones and cameras to get pictures of us with the couple. I don't get it. The mass didn't begin until 2 hours after it was planned to, and Bobby and I were stuck in this sticky back room with all the husbands and no view of the altar. I guess the women sit up front and men sit in the back? I didn't get that memo. Throughout the ceremony, people were in and out quite a bit, so once we'd had our fill of stifling heat and mosquitoes, we, too, stepped out. We left before the reception, because it was already dark and we'd been there for 3+ hours already. The jeep never got back until 11 that night!

The next day, we went to Bassin Zim, the waterfall. Monday was a day of errand-running. Tuesday, we hopped in the Jeep with the Mobile Clinic midwives and got out at Lascahobas, the town where Emmanuel, one of our translators, lives. Mobile Clinic continued on to a different town. We saw his house, met his 1 1/2 year old daughter, ate Paté (classic Haitian street food), walked around town, and visited a pool. Wednesday was more errand-running. With no volunteers around, there wasn't a ton to do. Thursday, we got up early and drove to Port-Au-Prince to the beach! Kaliko is a resort about an hour outside of the city. It's pretty luxurious, although still very "Haiti." There was no hot water, lizards in the bathroom, no shampoo or conditioner, and the TV barely worked. But the beach and pool -- and passionfruit vodkas -- were wonderful.

I should also mention that Bobby brought me a ukulele that I had shipped to my house in PA. I originally wanted to bring my guitar here, but it was just too big to bring with me. When a volunteer brought her ukulele a few weeks back, I realized that it's a much better option -- it's just a mini guitar! Duh. It's been great having it. I'm keeping up with music, learning a new instrument, and singing again.

Kitten update: they're back. They're monsters. I can't wait for them to leave. As I write this, I'm watching all three of them chase a huge moth together. They're cute as heck, but they've wreaked havoc on this otherwise calm and clean home, so they really need to go. Since Ina May kept them away from everything for several weeks, they've become terrified of humans and run away at the first sight of one. I needn't so much as look at them before they sprint away. Don't even get me started on their "messes." Let's just say it's a really good thing we have plastic covers on all unused beds and that a volunteer brought us some new plastic covers this week. What a mess. The only semi-good thing they did was kill a rat...but then the ginger kitten carried it around and got its blood all over the floor. Sorry, I really should spare you the details. Lesson learned: give Ina May Depoprovera. Anyone willing?