On Tuesday, my last day in Haiti, I wake up a bit early and can hear the sound of a school bus waiting outside of our gate. It has come to pick up the team that has been staying with us for the past week. We go and say our goodbyes and they’re off to the airport. I have a bowl of oatmeal and my morning cup of tea and find myself feeling surprisingly energized and ready to go. So earlier than we’ve left the house all week Megan, Josh, Trevor, and I go up to the school to do a little painting in the classroom that Megs and me started on yesterday.
The scaffolding guys built some pretty rockstar scaffolding for us to climb around on. And as we’re painting the walls a nice cream/egg shelly color (and kind of making a huge mess, oops), it starts to hit me that I’m leaving tomorrow. Ugh. This happened too fast, I just got here. I whine a little bit about it out loud and Josh says, “Oh no, you can’t get the future sads.” But I totally have the future sads. They make me get upset and I yell at Megan for something unimportant, like the way she’s painting. She yells back at me about getting the underside of the crown molding or whatever. Hmph.
I scuttle around touching up different places on the walls kind of dancing to whatever music we have playing through the jam box, not looking where I’m going. When all of a sudden… SMACK! I kick the living beetle juice out of this janky plank of wood that’s lying on the ground. I can tell I’ve done some major damage and immediately start screaming and jumping around before running out of the room hootin’ and hollerin’. I’m bleeding and all the workers start coming to see what’s going on. I yell at them to go away and then am herded back in the room so Megan can assess the damage in peace. Turns out I lodged this giant splinter, nay, stick, in my fourth toe. Megan holds down my other toes while Josh tries to pull it out, but it won’t come. I hold onto Bernard and yell lots of jibberish to avoid uttering excessive profanities. Finally after much anguish it gets dislodged. Megan says to me, “That’s why Kyle says ‘you have to wear closed toed shoes on the job site!’ Don’t tell him, ha.” What kind of trip to Haiti would it be though if I didn’t injure myself or have to have some kind of impromptu surgery? I am such a winner.
Not too long after, the paint job is just about finished up and Megan and me start off for home so I can take some IB profen. We walk down the mountain via the scenic route and soon happen upon this sad little goat bahhing pathetically. He has managed to wrap the rope tied on his neck around a sapling several times putting him on a very short leash. Immediately we set to work trying to free the poor guy. We try pushing his rear in the direction we want him to go, enticing him with leaves, yelling at him in Creole, etc., but he’s pretty dumb. Eventually, I have pick him up and toss him around the tree a few times while Megan hangs back for fear that he’s going to stab her with his horns. But soon we free him! Yay! We figure its some of the most important work we’ve done in Haiti, ha.
At home we have some leftover rice and beans for lunch and then the boys show back up. Since its my last day, we decide to take a little trip to the pretty beach in Grand Guave. That’s probably spelled wrong. Anyway, we all pile into the truck and fire up the jam box for an instant dance party. A little ways down the road, however, we run into some traffic. A crowd is gathered around the road gawking at something. We figure this is bad and cover the girl’s eyes. As we get closer, we see that its worse than any of us expected. There’s a body lying in the middle of the national highway with a fresh river of blood pouring from it and a couple of wrecked motorcycles nearby. The car falls silent as we deal each deal with the ugly side of Haiti in our own heads. The side of the highway holds several reminders of just how dangerous it is for motorists and pedestrians… Sometimes the bodies stay there for hours and hours before anybody comes to remove them.
Further down the road, we slowly start making attempts at conversation again to lift the heaviness. And soon we make it to the beach. It is simply magnificent, we are the only people there. Before I came down to Haiti, I bought several pairs of Christmas reindeer antlers and a Santa hat with the intention of making everyone take family Christmas photos. So before anyone can go get wet or sandy I make everyone pose on the beach. The pictures are PRECIOUS.
Then I go for a swim. As I float around in the gorgeous Caribbean on this warm December day, there is absolutely nowhere else in the world I would rather be. I feel perfectly peaceful, totally thankful. I never want to leave. We spend the rest of the afternoon recuperating from the week and having fun until the sun dips to the horizon making the sky look like cotton candy.
On the drive home, we sing along to NSYNC while the girls fall asleep in our laps and drool on us. At home we have another delicious meal of rice and beans. The internet has been out all week (along with the generator and our running water…) but Bernard brought us a Natcom internet stick and we can get online! We have a housewide skype call with Kyle because we all miss him tons and catch him up on everything going on up at the school. Then Bernard calls Josh and asks if we want to go hang out with him down the street… hm this could be fun.
Josh and I head out to this store that’s basically a shed on the side of the highway with a beer fridge, one or two lights, a very loud sound system blaring various rap songs, and a few folding chairs set up outside. As we walk across the street, Josh says, “Dude Kat, we’re like going out in Haiti.” I think to myself that we must be some pretty cool white folks J. We meet Bernard and his brother Benoit who pull up chairs for us and buy a round of Prestige for everyone. Mangy but cute animals come up and hang out with us. We spend the next few hours talking and laughing while obnoxious music blares out into the darkness.
Benoit keeps disappearing and coming back with go-boxes full of Haitian bbq, which is delicious, but also a bit suspicious in my eyes because I’m incredibly picky about only consuming boneless, skinless, white meat chicken. Haitians, however, eat the whole chicken. I mean the WHOLE thing. I’ve watched the girls gnaw on plenty of bones in my time and the guys I’m with tonight are doing the same thing. I try not to gag as I watch them. Soon Josh is like oh relax Kathryn, and starts munching on a bone. He claims that its delicious. I don’t believe him and turn up my nose. But soon everyone is picking on me and, after awhile, they convince me to try it… I am so disgusted writing this right now, but I actually bite into a bone and suck out some of the marrow. And… its not actually that bad… But I will never do it again. The adventure continues as nature calls and I have to run around back to use the Haitian restroom. I’ve had to do that a lot this week- its always pretty exciting. Then we finish our Prestige and its time to go home. The highway is emptier than I’ve ever seen it and the sky is absolutely brilliant, jam packed with more stars than any American would ever know existed.
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