Haiti Day Two

It’s almost one o’clock a.m. and the sound of a woman shouting outside woke me, followed by my own imagination that I felt the bed shaking (a recurrent lifelong affliction since living through an earthquake at age ten) … both of which – combined with the nagging concern I’ve had for Isabel since talking to my sister tonight – left me too wakeful to fall back to sleep. And so while my husband and the baby boys sleep soundly, I will begin writing about our second day in Haiti.

Let me start by saying that in so many ways, it is truly a different world here. One which intrigues me and challenges me but in which I don’t feel completely safe. Our hotel is old and beautiful, with jungle-like foliage overhanging its crisscrossing paths, but it is in “pleno centro” as they say in Chile – in the heart of downtown. The front entrance for pedestrians faces the central plaza and presidential palace of Port-au-Prince, but it is a small guarded entrance with a metal gate which I’m sure is locked tightly at night. (We were told it was okay to visit the plaza during the day but definitely not after nightfall.) The back entrance for vehicles is also guarded, gated and locked.

This afternoon, the front desk having called and really wanting to clean our room (we’d hung a “do not disturb” sign intending to not subject the cleaning person to our chaotic place of suitcases, bottles and diapers galore), Pedro and I each packed a baby in a front-carrier Snugli and decided to walk around the plaza a little bit. First of all, it is HUGE. It is not really one plaza but several, some with statues and others with a little green area and parts with vendors and others with benches for sitting. It is actually pretty cool. Secondly, there were literally hundreds of people milling about, and all eyes were on us. It was a very strange, very uncomfortable, and more than slightly threatening feeling. Call us ducks out of water or as the Chileans say, “chanchos en misa,” whatever – but try as we might to be inconspicuous there was just no way. The amusing part was that Pedro carrying a baby in a front carrier seemed to really amuse the Haitians, especially some of the ladies! (I heard giggles more than once when we passed by.) The babies received smiles from several people but many just stared at us so seriously that I wondered, as I have countless times since arriving here, what they really think about us coming and adopting these children. In the end, we didn’t stay long and I tried to snap a few pictures discreetly but we soon returned to the hotel.

Let me back up to that statement about not feeling completely safe and describe an incident that I observed at lunchtime. After an hour or two of shopping this morning, Barbara took us to a small pizza place around the corner from the hotel. While we were waiting for our pizza, a man came in and stood near the counter for his order. Nothing unusual, except for the fact that the entire time he was standing there, he had a very large shiny shotgun in his hand. Nobody else seemed to pay any attention to it, but it unnerved me. I mean, I grew up under the dictatorship in Chile and have seen police both there and here walking around with machine guns, but to see someone not in uniform walk in off the street toting that thing was just crazy! Anyway, that is just a case in point.

I am writing the story of today in reverse order apparently, but the day actually started with Mirlande showing up while Pedro was eating breakfast and Ian was still asleep, asking us if we could be ready in five minutes. If so, we could quickly do some shopping with Barbara before she took off for Argentina with little Juan this afternoon. In fact, Juan was with us on this trip so we got to enjoy his company! He is such a cute little boy – only not so little at 15 months and 40 pounds – and very inquisitive and active. (Barbara will be escorting him to his new home by herself, even after having had her knee go out yesterday. She is one tough lady!)

We very quickly dressed the kids and put a diaper bag together, and soon found ourselves back in the green pickup truck. Mirlande hopped a taxi/motorcycle to the US Embassy to pick up Juan’s transit visa for Miami, and then our driver took us to a city block lined on both sides with paintings. I followed Barbara’s lead since she said she only worked with one man in particular and that he would give us a fair price. Even so, others began to approach us and before we were done I had three or four vendors wanting to sell me their paintings. With Barbara’s help, I eventually purchased several for a very good price and I am happy to have those pieces of the boys’ culture/heritage to display in our home as they grow up.

Today, like yesterday, at several points in our journey people approached the vehicle to talk to Barbara and Mirlande. I later learned that a few of the men in particular were birthfathers seeking word on the well-being of their children, and/or asking for financial assistance. That moved me somehow. So did the young man we met outside of the pizza place, who reached out for Juan and carried him down the steps safely, and the other man who paused to tie Juan’s shoe and who also stepped out to stop traffic so we could cross the street safely. Such conflicting emotions, though, because afterwards they ask and hope to receive some money for the help they have provided … which doesn’t nullify their good intentions and which is obviously a reality due to the poverty here, but somehow it sheds a different light on their actions. Something to think about …

Through it all, the boys have been super well behaved again today and I even elicited my first laughs from serious little Alec. (Pedro can make him laugh all the time.) Both boys love to lay on the bed and be tickled and teased. Ian also likes to play on a blanket on the floor, and he can really scoot himself around! He has also surprised us today by moving from his tummy to a sitting up position on the bed, so we have to watch him extra carefully. He is so tiny, you don’t expect him to be able to do all he does … and Alec is the same size, so sometimes we expect him to do more and then have to remember that he is only five months old. I am truly, truly thankful for this opportunity to see the boys as babies and have these memories together. It will be hard to leave them and know I will miss the next several months of their lives and development. We continue to pray for our miracle.