Long Days

Sunday after church Johnny and I went to Buchan Richard. As we pulled up, people were just leaving church services there. We pulled into the church yard and parked the truck under the shade of two large trees. We got out and walked up to the church, peering in we could see a few people still busy at the front of the church preparing to leave. It was dim, there are no lights in the church, and the only light coming from open doors on both sides and ventilation blocks.

We entered through one of the three sets of tall double front doors. As we approached the alter, we were greeted by several men and offered a seat on one of the simple benches that serve as pews. They knew we were coming.  A moment later Delise came out from the sacristy, with his customary big smile. Delise is a thin tall man, nearly as tall as me. I am 6’1”. When he approached we clasped each other in a big bear hug. “Kouman ou ye?” he asked, and I responded “pa pi mal, e ou em?”  His response was “pa pe mal, mèsi.” Translated, “how are you? “, “not bad, and you?”, “not bad, thank you”. He then led us through another door to an open air shelter on the back of the church that is used as a classroom.

Once we were seated I asked Johnny to translate for me, my Creole does not go far beyond basic greetings and simple phrases. I produced a list of children sponsored for school from last school year. Through Johnny, I explained that we needed to update the list removing the names of those who had not continued or had moved up and replace them with the newly sponsored children. I then asked him to make sure that all of the children on the list be in attendance on this coming Tuesday. Johnny and I will return to take pictures of the children for their sponsors.

When Delise understood what I needed, he called Olga, another one of the teachers, and asked her to come so that we could make sure that she understood what was needed as well. Delise is a very careful man.

While we waited, I wrote down the phone numbers for my telephone and internet jumpdrive on a piece of paper. I handed it to Delise along with 300 gourdes and asked him to put 100 gourdes on each of my sim cards. I have two sim cards for my phone, and one for my jumpdrive. My phone takes two sim cards. The purpose is that there are two competing cell phone companies in Haiti, Digicel and Natcom. I use both. I use Natcom for my international calls. They have a simple international calling plan that cost about 17 cents a minute, but their service is spotty. I use Digicel for the rest of my calls and for my jumpdrive.

My jump drive allows me internet access for about 19 cents a day for 60mb. Because of our remote location, our internet is so slow that 60mb is usually more than enough for both Denise and I to check our emails. The plan I am on also rolls over so that when I get to town I have enough accumulated capacity to upload pictures. Sometimes this back fires because my computer will automatically download updates, exhausting all of my accumulated capacity and then I am charged a premium for running over, using up all of my minutes.  When that happens, I switch sim cards with the one in my phone until I have a chance to buy more.

There is a 10% surcharge, so actually I only received 91 gourdes on each sim card.

When we finished, we said our goodbyes and Johnny and I headed back to Garcin.

That night, while we Denise and I were in our room watching a dvd on our laptop, I thought I heard a siren, but I discounted it as we have never heard a siren here before.

Monday morning

Denise has planned a trip to Gonaives today. Johnny, Sr. Julian and she need to buy medications to stock the new clinic with while we are gone. The clinic has brought in enough money to pay for the medications without further subsidy. I had emailed Fr. Gracia on Saturday to see if he wanted to go too. If he does I will go also. We have been trying to find a time when Fr.Gracia, Denise and I can go see the Bishop. The previous times we scheduled a trips there have been demonstrations taking place that threatened to turn violent.  Fr. Gracia called just before breakfast to tell us he wanted to go.

At breakfast Johnny asked “Did you know a man was dead, did you not here the ambulance?” He added “You know him Bob; he changed money for you at Fonkoze”. I asked “What happened?” He said “He had a moto accident. At the bottom of the first hill leaving here, something happened and his moto crashed.  It did not appear serious, his passenger just jumped off”, He continued, “at first he seemed OK, he did not appear hurt, but then he died.”

The man had waited on me a few times when I had changed US dollars for Gourdes. He was young, He lived in Gros Morne and he had been visiting his mother in Buchan Richard. I do not know his name.

After breakfast we tried to call Sr. Julian, but she did not answer. We got ready and headed into town. On the way in, we tried to call Sister again, still no answer.  When we got to town we went to the rectory where Fr. Gracia was waiting for us. We spent just a few minutes there and then pulled out of the gate, just as Sr. Julia called. She asked us to wait for her; she was at the last river crossing on her way. It was close to half an hour when she arrived and we were able to leave.

Denise drove the twenty miles to Gonaives. It is a long dusty and bumpy twenty miles. Once you leave the outer limits of the Gros Morne area, the scenery changes from mountains with spotty patches of trees and some green to all rock and dirt. What trees that do grow along the road are not green, they are gray, coated with a thick layer of dust. Our top speed is about 30 kmh, or about 18 mph. Our truck has very stiff suspension and at speed over that it is destructive to our bodies. Other vehicles drive much faster, passing us, billowing clouds of dust that make us very thankful to have air-conditioning.

Just before we reach the city there is a series of nine speed bumps, spaced about thirty feet apart. We have been speculating on their purpose as there are only a few houses set back from the road in this area. Today I notice that the layer of dust the covers everything here is much lighter.

Anybody here can build a speed bump; there is no authority to tell them otherwise.

When we arrive in Gonaives, the road smooths out. It is under construction, but it has been graded. They are putting in curbs and gutters in preparation for paving. The streets are crowded and Denise is doing a fine job of using the horn as she weaves around stopped tap taps, double parked trucks and the ever present motos. Our first stop is Bishops Pean’s  residence.

Johnny and Sr. Julian wait for us as Fr. Gracia leads Denise and I through a hallway and up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor balcony. There he locates the office and asks to see the Bishop but he is not in. I do not know if Fr. Gracia called ahead or not. It would not necessarily make a difference. The Bishop does not use a personal secretary and has been known to double book his schedule.

Instead of meeting with the Bishop, we leave a letter for him from the Provincial of our order, the Salvatorians. It is an official letter of introduction for us to the Bishop. Even though we have met with the Bishop several times, Fr. Gracia had asked us to arrange the formal letter of introduction.

Once we turned over the letter we retraced our steps and found Johnny waiting for us. Sr. Julien is nowhere to be seen. Johnny explains that she had an important meeting to attend to and will join us later. Communication can make life easier.

Our next stop is to buy medicine for the clinic. I ask Denise where, and she tells me it is the other end of the property we are on, but we can’t get there from where we are. Instead we drive out through the front gate and turn right to the first road and turn right again. Then a short ways down we turn down a narrow alleyway. It is barely wide enough for our truck to pass through. A short ways in there is an old tap tap with its front wheels removed, perched on two piles of rocks, cement blocks are a premium.  At the end of the alleyway is another gate. As we approach a man peers out and seeing a newer vehicle opens the gate and motions us in. Denise pulls under a shade tree and while Fr. Gracia waits in the truck, Denise, Johnny, Sadie and I all go in.

After a few minutes, I can tell this is going to take a while and so I take Sadie back outside and find a bench under a shade tree where I can read while we wait. It is about an hour later when Denise emerges with the items they had. Sadly it was only a few of the items needed. She did get directions to another pharmacy. We load up and head out to start our search. Just as we are passing the Bishop’s, my phone rings, it is Sr. Julian. She wants us to wait at the Bishop’s for her. Good timing.  We pull to the side of the road and a few minutes later she emerges.  We start off again.

It is not far, only a few blocks.  This time I wait in the truck with Fr. Gracia while Denise, Sr. Julian and Johnny go in. They return empty handed a few minutes later.  Denise is discouraged and I suggest we call Sr. Jackie to see if she has another suggestion. She does, it is close to back where we just came from, so we turn around and backtrack.

This time Johnny waits in the truck with Fr. Gracia and I. The women are gone what seems a very long time, but when they return they have the bulk of the items needed.  Denise explains that this pharmacy is a wholesaler, but they were out of several items. When they came to one of those items on the list, they sent someone out to retrieve it from another store. When she paid the bill, she said that women taking the money took a very long time to stack and count the money and recount the money, using her calculator extensively to help her count it. It is important to remember that when you do business in Haiti that Haiti has its own time zone, Haitian time, and you need three things, patience, patience, and more patience.

By now we are all getting hungry. On previous trips to Gonaives, Denise has seen a modern restaurant with signs that advertises pizza. Sounds like a wonderful treat to me. I am not complaining, but a change from beans and rice will be welcome.

The restaurant is very modern; it is clean with stylish stainless steel chairs and tables. It is nicely decorated.

When we order, Fr. Gracia, Sr. Julian and Johnny all order chicken with beans and rice. Denise and I order vegetarian pizza. It is offered on the menu. Then we go find a table.

We wait for a while and then the waitress brings us four glasses and a pitcher of water. We wait a little longer and she returns with the fifth glass only to find that we need more water.  After a little while longer she returns and asks us what goes on a vegetarian pizza. Fr. Gracia explains that you put vegetables on it, like tomatoes, onions and mushrooms.

In about thirty minutes the plates of chicken, beans and rice came. At first the others wait for our pizza to arrive, but we encourage them to go ahead and eat. Another forty minutes pass and then our pizza comes; with tomatoes and pepperoni.  Pizza is a good idea, but I don’t know if Haiti is ready for pizza yet.  Another time, at another restaurant, there were signs for pizza, but when we tried to order it; we were told that we needed to call ahead. Hmmm…….

We have one more stop to make, the supermarket. Gonaives is a city of around 300,000. The only supermarket we know of is small, less than 1,000 square feet. It has limited supplies, no fresh meat; there is a cooler with ham and American cheese. There is no produce department. If we knew how to negotiate the market stalls we probably could find the same things there.

The street where the supermarket is located is not paved and when we park in front we are parked in mud. There is a set of four wooden steps, of sorts, leading to a raised sidewalk outside of the front door. The top step is made from a broken board that wobbles. The spacing is too high and Denise needs help climbing the steps. We joke that OSHA would love this place. Out front, Johnny introduces me to a man changing US dollars for Haitian Gourdes. He is his uncle. He will end up riding back to Gros Morne with us, standing in the back of the truck with Johnny, holding on to the bars that protect the back window.

When we finish our shopping and prepare to leave, we are forced to wait. A truck has double parked in front of us, not giving us enough room to pull out. We cannot back up because several motos have pulled up and parked right behind us. As we are waiting the driver of the double parked truck open his door as a tap tap is approaching, the tap tap hits his the door, slows for a moment and then continues on without stopping. The driver of the struck car gets out and inspects his door; it is sprung and will not close. He gets in his truck, holds the door shut and drives away.  Denise carefully pulls back in to the traffic and we head home.