Hello Haiti

Haiti.

Haiti Haiti Haiti. Haiti. Oh, sweet Jesus, Haiti.

My first impression of this country is amazement of how quickly one can travel to the worse emergency in the world. This hits me directly after the wall of heat and humidity does, the likes of which my hair has never known.

Climbing the hills of rubble-strewn and traffic dense Port au Prince I quickly channel my inner-Uganda road traveling skills. I block out my peripheral vision saving me from fearing 75% of the near-miss collisions. For the remaining 25% collisions, most of which would be head on, I channel my inner zen (yes, I have some) and ignore them and stare and stare and stare at this crazy place.

The average car ride in Port au Prince is 1 hour through snarled, congested, hilly roads, so switching to developing world passenger mode suits me just fine. As I press my nose to the glass and try to imbibe as much of Haiti as I possibly can, I return to my first impression. This place has all of the hallmarks of the third world: goats and bush dogs, constant animation of tiny shops selling soap and chinese candy, and utter utter poverty.

The displacement camps from the earthquake a year and a half ago are everywhere. Every crevice of every open or semi-open space is jammed with plastic sheets and tents that must be absolutely ungodly in these soaring temps. I haven't yet been able to visit a camp, because the ones I've seen in town are too dangerous for us to stop in, even to snap a photo.

I haven't been able to talk to too many Haitians yet either, because I've been running from meeting to meeting and also because moments of idle chit chat are denied to me by my inability to speak French or Creole. Relegated to muted observations, Haitians seem a bombastic people.From the cheers as the plane landed to the movement around me to the recent election of a pop star as President, the Haitians seem bold.

Yesterday afternoon, we took the earthquake tour. The area I'm staying in does not seem so badly hit, but as we traveled closer and closer to the city center, the impact of the earthquake was much more visible. We passed the palace, which was striking not only for it's destruction (the main once proud dome of elegance appearing awkwardly decapitated) but also because it appears they were setting up for the inauguration of the President on these grounds on Saturday. How strange it will look to the world, this juxtaposition of new promise and old terrible problems.