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Haiti 2012: June 2

Today was much easier this year than was true of the same day on our last Haiti trip. We took a red-eye flight, and some of us stayed up all night. Once we arrived in the Port-au-Prince airport, I thought we would have to battle the baggage assistants who want to help carry luggage in exchange for gratuity. We were so prepared to face this that we met for a huddle to devise our strategy mere feet from the terminal exit and the awaiting cadre of red-shirted men. One male would walk on each side, and others would surround those carrying the luggage while we made our way toward the waiting van. It was for nothing, though, because only a moment after we left the building, the director of the orphanage met us and asked the aids to take our bags. This was so much more peaceful than our experience last year, when we had to protect our luggage and repeat "No" firmly. There was no battle of wills this year, no competition for luggage, and I was grateful.

The drive to the orphanage was less striking compared to last year. I had seen the poverty, experienced the pollution of Port-au-Prince, so I had the chance watch for differences between what I saw last year and what I saw this year. At one point, I saw a beautiful and new play area for children. It reminded me of what I'd learned of the problems that grew out of the earthquake: women and children, especially, were vulnerable in the tent cities that rose out of the rubble of the earthquake because there was no police or structural protection from sexual exploitation and slave trafficking, respectively. The U.N., fairly visible in the country, responded by creating "safe spaces" for women and children. This sizable playground, I thought, might be one of them.

After around four hours, we were greeted by the familiar, if nuanced, orphanage. Set against a mountain that explodes with green and dominates the landscape, the orphanage seemed somewhat scarred this time, with its new and unpainted additions. Still, those who came last year couldn't help but be nostalgic, thinking of our first-year experiences. After nine-and-a-half hours of flying, and little sleep, it wasn't long thereafter that we went to sleep, and slept soundly.
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