Starting off..

Random acts of kindness from strangers that I experienced while travelling to Haiti. A rich (looking) older white man, who had been able to cut in front of me in the 40 minute security line, very kindly made me go ahead of him in line after they called final boarding for my flight to Fort Lauderdale. In FL, where I planned to stay from 12am-5am until I could check in for my flight to Cap, an older gentleman working in the airport refused to make me pay for a luggage cart ($4) - made my evening. 

Sleeping in the Ft. Lauderdale airport was not a far cry from the transient lifestyle I've led for the past several months. In fact, it was rather reassuring to see many others sleeping with their luggage in the terminal. To be alone but surrounded is a feeling I enjoy. 

I was thrown into Haitian time before I even landed in Cap. After checking in at 5:20am for my 7:30am flight, I went to another part of the terminal to grab a snack. I received a phone call at 6:20am that I needed to come board the flight because everyone had checked in so they decided to depart early. I arrived in Cap around 8:30am, about 45 minutes earlier than my scheduled arrival. In typical Maria style, I prepared for my trip ridiculously last minute and so I didn't even have a copy of the phone number to reach my ride. In the baggage claim/immigration/customs room I frantically tried to kill time until I saw a familiar face. Some men took my bags out of the airport thinking I was with another group of Americans.. a fair assumption.. but false. Luckily another American did help to convince the men I wasn't leaving yet and needed my bags. Another thing, one of the first things I noticed upon my arrival was that there were men everywhere. Men far outnumbered women everywhere and I instantly became nervous. I was pushed out of the airport, sticking as closely as possible to two other American girls who were headed to an orphanage and were also waiting for a ride. I saw a familiar car outside, but it was without the HOPE emblem, so I assumed my ride wasn't there yet. I waited. The man driving the familiar-seeming car approached me and asked if I was going to Borgne. Since I had mentioned i was going there to others and had already been offered taxi rides about a dozen times I politely but sternly shook my head and said my ride was coming.

About 10-15 minutes later, after the other girls left and I began to panic, Sergo approached me a second time, asking if I was with HOPE. I realized I recognized him this time around and breathed an insanely large sigh of relief. 

The ride to Borgne was an adventure. Sergo and I managed to communicate through a mixture of broken Creole, French, and a little English. He insisted on buying me lunch at a gas station on the outskirts of Cap, which is about an hour and a half drive from Borgne. Paranoid about food poisoning from the hot food, but not wanting to deny his hospitality, I settled for a Diet Coke (there was no regular in sight) and some delicious local nuts. Nothing could have made me feel more comfortable than that sweet sweet sound of a soda can opening. The drive to Borgne was the best part of the day, Sergo was more than happy to help me work on my Creole, and eager to tell me the names of everywhere we passed. 

As it did last time I was here, the contrast between the immense poverty and the unimaginable beauty of this country blew me away. 

I'm not sure what I expected of my arrival in Borgne, but it wasn't this. There are several other Americans here, all exciting people, obviously linked by a passion for social justice. However, since they've been here for a few weeks and are mostly medical interns, I've felt a little left out for the day. I primarily spent the afternoon shadowing people (and feeling annoying about doing so). I know that this current frustration is one that will pass, I just need to get some rest and get started with my work and find my place.

A highlight of the afternoon was collecting an entourage of little kids. The whole time all I could think about was a quote from a book I just started, recommended to me by the wonderful Kristen Jensen, called Kisses from Katie, about a young woman working in Uganda. She spends a while talking about falling in love with the children. I found myself not caring that this little boy just blew his nose into his hand and then held mine, because he was proudly leading me on the tour of the hospital and beaming to be one of children holding my hand. All I had time to feel was love.

Dinner was delicious. That was expected. Nanu is the best! We had a delicious rice with carrots and cabbage, with a potato like thing, avocado, and beef. To drink there were coconuts and freshly squeezed passion fruit juice. The dessert was the best part - fresh mango. Wins all around.

I'm not sure where tonight or the next few days will take me, but hopefully I'll be able to gain a better understanding of my role and learn as much as I can from those around me.