Entering the Twilight Zone

After 4 monthes of trying to find a way to get to Haiti and a 3 hour delay in Miami (after a 7 hour overnight layover), we finally touched down in Port Au Prince! Doucette and I were so happy to get off the plane and onto Haitian soil that we didn't even care about the pushing and shoving through the terminal which had no air circulation whatsoever. Once we got out of there, we were greated with a warm welcome of Haitian music played by a live band who greated us before we boarded a bus to get to immigration. Immigration had it's glitches, people were tired, etc. Even if I had not been so exhausted (Doucette and I were running on close to 26 hours of no sleep by the time we got to immigration) I don't think I could have predicted the shitstorm we were blindly running toward. We got through immigration after a few mishaps and made our way over to get our bags. Doucette turned to me just before we reached the checked baggage and said, whatever you do, DO NOT LET ANYONE HELP YOU! That seemed pretty basic in theory until we tried to make our way toward the door which was located on the other side of the somewhat small, but very overly crowded, airport. Even with one of Doucette's friends, who worked at the airport, helping us; we were under attack. Multiple people coming up to me grabbing me, grabbing my bags, grabbing my cart, all screaming at me in a language that I didn't understand and shoving one another and me to try to get me to let them help me take my bags. When I said "No thank you!" very loudly they continued, and when I screamed "NO!" at the top of my lungs they ignored me. Between trying to literally use physical force to shove people off of me, my luggage, and the cart all the while trying to make it out the doors I was frantic. I thought the madness would stop once we got outside but it only worsened where non-airport workers joined in the frendzy and all I could do was pray to God that we reach the big yellow van that was picking us up at the airport before one of my bags went missing, or something worse, happened. To pour gasoline on the fire, the people who were supposed to be picking us up from the airport basically decided to leave and let us "find our own way" even though they had notice of the three hour delay. Luckily, Doucette had asked her brother that lives in Haiti to meet us at the airport to give her some stuff so he rescued us. Getting into his car the people outside were hitting the windows screaming for money and aggressively trying to get our attention. Honestly, I was terrified.

But that came to a halt once we got in the car and Dwight, Doucette's brother, gave me a big hug and said, "Welcome to Haiti my other sister! As long as you are in Haiti and you are a friend of Doucette's you are family and I am your brother, I'm here for you no matter what!" Then he handed me a phone he got for me and said, "Why don't we show you around!" Thus began my intro to Haitian driving. If you have ever been to Mexico, especially in the non-tourist parts , chances are you know that driving is sort of a free-for all. Haitian driving, is like Mexican driving on Steroids!!! I don't think I will ever get used to it. There was a large truck that was trying to turn and failed so its driver just decided that was as good a place as any to stop and just stay there for the next half hour. I thought this was a rare occurance but Doucette and her brother both assured me this was completely standard and I watched as all of the drivers around us decided that medians and one way traffic were overrated and they drove over the median to the other side and made it a two way whether drivers on that side wanted them to or not! Since I have been here I can't tell you how often that happens, I can just say that I haven't had a single day go by where I haven't seen that happen!

As we continued to drive we came up to our first "tent city" or refugee camp. The sign outside read, "PLEASE HELP! WE NEED DOCTORS, FOOD, WATER, AND MONEY, PLEASE HELP US!" It wasn't long before I discovered that all of the refugee camps have similar signs to this. They also have make-shift tents with people inside living in what can only be described as squaler. Although I couldn't see inside the tents completely, what I could see indicated that there was a status hierarchy even within the tent system itself. Tents like the ones in the U.S. seemed to be the gold standard and Dwight explained that those go for more than 100 dollars US (even for a little one)! Tied or maybe just a bit below due to the heat would be the tents with scrap metal or tin on the sides and top for a roof and walls. The bottom of the totem pole were those who were not able to be a part of a tent and were sleeping in the mood or on the street with nothing. This was the first sight that really got me. I just couldn't believe that these people have been living like this for monthes. And it's not like camping, each tent is on top of the other one, most cases overlappying and no room to move between tents because they spring up wherever they can.

I only had moments to start processing what I saw when we came upon our first pile of rubble. The sheer image of seeing a building that had people in it brought to the ground instantaneously brings a sick feeling in your stomach like none I can describe. There were tons of sights like this and there have been in recent days as well. Even Doucette who spent a great deal of her childhood in Haiti expressed shock once she saw the piles of crumbled buildings and sprawled clothing and other personal items all over. One of Doucette's favorite cake bakeries growing up, the most popular in town, was packed when the earthquake hit and the building instantly floored leaving few if any survivors. Dwight added that in a lot of these piles of rubble, there are still people burried underneath. The thought of being trapped like that for days or dying that way was enough to make me speechless. Toward the end of the drive I was just staring straight ahead unable to say a word, which for anyone who knows me, means something. Everytime I pass a pile of rubble I still can't get over the shock and I probably never will. I can ony imagine what it was like for people who survived the quake to see it afterwards, or worse during. This is not even the epicenter! The epicenter of the quake, a town that's about 10 miles southwest of Port Au Prince, is said to have been 90-95% destroyed. While Port Au Prince is in better shape (hard to believe at times), the people here say that the earth literally moved in waves and buildings came down instantaneously.

Seeing the looks on both Doucette's and my face, Dwight decided it was time to start pointing out the good aspects of Haiti. He made a point of stopping to show me the rich areas of Haiti with huge mansions and beautiful lawns and he said "This is the Haiti that the media won't show you. This is what I want you to post Lee, I want the people in the United States to see that not all of Haiti is impoverished and devastated, some of it is doing just fine." On that note he took us to pick up his wife for an ultra sound (she is pregnant with their first child) who we were able to find out that day is going to be a boy! I was so happy for my Haitian brother and his wife and Doucette and for a moment I was able to push the racing thoughts of people trapped under piles of rubble out of my mind. But then we got to the car. While we were waiting for Dwight's wife to finishtalking to the doctor, a woman walked past the car. She was hobbling a little bit so I looked down to see her leg only to discover she was wearing no pants or underwear. She was just walking the street that way. I gasped and yelled to Doucette, "OMG SHE'S NAKED?!" Doucette just shrugged and said some people just don't want to wear pants. With the heat I could understand not wanting to wear them but this was a city street. I could never imagine walking through downtown Chicago with no

pants or underwear on! I thought "Maybe she can't afford to get new ones or mental illness", but Doucette said it was not totally uncommon to see and that sometimes people just didn't want to wear pants. This was the point in the car ride where I thought to myself, "What the hell am I doing here?"

You can read every article ever written about Hait, you can look at all the pictures you want, but seeing it in person is still going to be more devastating than you can ever imagine. The upside to seeing the destruction was knowing that I could do something to help. I knew at the time and I still know that I can not fix the problem on my own, but I still think I can be part of the solution so that's why I'm here. I know that sounds cheesey but on days like the first day, it's what gets me through.