There’s always new adventures to be had, new things to discover about people. As we go about our days living our lives we encounter new experiences which challenge us to adapt, so we can continue functioning with this new truth in our lives. Whatever those changes may be we choose to continue on as if nothing has changed – because we know that we either choose to change or choose to reject this new truth – or we sludge through the changes, visibly disgruntled by the way life has pushed our feelings aside in order to allow the world to function. Either way, we soldier on. We continue putting one foot in front of the other and somehow we get where we are going, and we manage to wake up every morning still breathing life into our lungs.
This last week brought adventure, change, challenges, and newness to life in a whirlwind of experiences. A group of eight of us friends who live here in Haiti, and my friend Lori who came to visit, chose to hike to Jacmel through Seguin. This is a thirty mile hike with a 3,300 foot elevation gain, and 6,300 feet back down to sea level. We did it in 2 days, hiking thirteen or fourteen miles one day and sixteen or seventeen miles the second day.
We weren’t all prepared for this type of hike, me in particular. We brought too much stuff (for example, a regular camping tent that weighed around ten or twelve pounds), we didn’t wear appropriate shoes, and we simply didn’t anticipate such difficult terrain. It was a stunning hike. We walked along a road that many people I know back in Washington would qualify as a trail, but the towns along this road seem to function daily with a steep, rain-washed dirt road just fine. What was seriously humbling were the women walking up the same roads as us, going a steady pace, but wearing too-small sandals with no heel strap and a load twice the size as mine perched on their heads. By the end of the first day we found water we could treat and then safely drink, we stumbled into a section of the pine forest that lies at the top of the mountains in Haiti and picked a place that was relatively flat and far from the road. We could still see people passing by, and the occaisional taptap that passed once it got dark could still illuminate our gear a little, but we felt safe. We cooked dinner on a propane stove that Irene and Robbie brought (Lord love ‘em!) and we all fell into bed, vowing we would be good as new in the morning. When we did finally reach morning, all at different hours depending on the deepness and restfulness of our sleep, we met a kind, Haitian man who had been wandering around our campsite for a while and had worked-up the nerve to come over. He greeted us, and through Irene’s ability to speak kreyole better than the rest of us, we learned that a group had been murdered in December from camping too close to the road. He warned us that we were not far enough from the road and it was dangerous. We thanked him, asked him where we should camp if we ever did this again, and thanked him again. Some of us had slept fitfully because the ground was hard, or the mountain air was colder than we had anticipated, but had you asked any of us if we were worried about walking up the next morning I think we would have thought that was a silly fear.
So, by the morning of day two we are grateful for
1. Surviving the hike; ie: putting one foot in front of the other.
2. Waking up, in spite of our own niëvety.
We cooked our breakfast, packed up camp, trudged down to the water source to replenish our supplies, and then started out, finally beginning that days’ walk at about 10:00am. The whole second day was downhill, which was easier in the logic center of our brains, but so very hard on our feet. We had the same spots rubbed over and over by our shoes as we spent nearly 7 or 8 hours ramming our feet forward into our shoes. Some of us stumbled, due either to the tiredness of our legs, ankles or feet, or the rocky terrain of the mountain road we were following. But again, the view was stunning. We crossed fields of jagged, intricate rock formations,
stretches of beautiful, red earth, and villages that consisted of as few as 2 or 3 houses to as many as twenty. Every single place we passed at least one person called out, “Blan, blan! Bay m ti kado” which means white person, give me a gift. The smallest of people to the oldest of them would cry out to us, some merely greeting us and commenting on the silly blan who seem to have all their earthly possessions strapped to their backs, and others asking for things. At times it was frustrating because as Christians we are to love people as Christ did. But when your day is filled with hundreds of strangers who’s first words to you are ‘give me something’ grace seems a much more difficult calling. I found the best thing for me was to bite my tongue and keep my eyes down as I walked. It did seem rather difficult to visualize Christ in this position though.
We walked, stumbled, and fell down the mountain, finally arriving in Marigot, about twelve or fifteen miles from Jacmel. We found a taptap that would take us to Jacmel and we all let out sad, whimper-cries of gratitude as we climbed aboard the rickety truck. The driver took us through five or six Rara bands. This was Tuesday night, and the next day, Wednesday, was the final day of Haiti’s National Carnival celebration. Rara Bands are things I have heard about but never experienced, and hadn’t really wanted to experience. I have heard they are dangerous, better viewed from a safe distance and that they can become riotous. We drove through them. A truck full of white people, loaded down with huge backpacking packs driving straight through this cultural bomb. We were fine, and it was actually a good experience now that I look back on it, but at the time I simply closed my eyes, lowered my head, relished Damon’s protective arm around my waist and prayed that we would be safe. Eventually, we reached the Salvation Army Church and School where Damon had arranged for us to stay. Of course there were unforeseen aspects that had to be worked out once we got there, but we were able to settle in, eat a delicious meal a la Robbie and Irene (once again!) and fall into our makeshift beds that were lined up in a row on the roof of the school. We slept somewhat fitfully, but woke more rested the next day.
Day two held blessings we had not anticipated as well, such as:
1. Being thankful for blistered feet and skinned knees, nothing worse
2. Passing through the Rara bands unscathed
3. Finding a safe place to sleep that night
We spent the next two days in Jacmel enjoying ourselves. We went to the beach all of Wednesday and tried to stay that night in a hotel but that didn’t work out. The next day we found our way up to Basin Blu so Lori, Damon and the Captain could experience this stunning work of art God has created. We swam and all of us girls showered in the clear, blue water. That night we took the Captain and his family out to dinner to thank them for sharing their space (especially their bathroom) with us while we were in Jacmel. Then we bedded down for one last night with the sound of the ocean lulling us to sleep.
Friday morning we got up early, gathered our things, prayed with the Captain and his family, then headed out on foot, to find the taptap station where we could inquire about a taptap to Port-au-Prince. When we planned this trip we had all agreed we would be hiking to Jacmel, staying for a bit, then hiking back. We wanted the glory of the challenge to be beneath our belts, as well as the bragging rights. Nearly all of us were in agreement by Friday morning that hiking back would be stupid. I was so grateful to sit in that van, puttering over the mountain and watch as miles and miles of potential foot soreness whizzed by my window. We made it safely back to the courtyard of Quisqueya school in less than three hours. I thank God for Rodney, our taptap driver, he was an angel in disguise.
As a group, we have traveled together quite a bit and had adventure upon adventure. We are learning how to function as a unit, how to be thoughtful of one another, and still how to take care of the group as a whole.
Having Lori here was a challenge because I wanted so desperately for her to enjoy her time in Haiti and not leave with negative experiences, so I wasn’t quite so concerned about the feelings of my friends who are quite capable of ‘roughing it Haitian style.’ Lori did a fine job pulling her own weight and not complaining. Damon and I as a couple had many new experiences that our short relationship has not had the chance to encounter before. Somehow, spending five days together really speeds up the time line of learning each other (o; But we too were able to function and come out of this trip still caring about each other and not wanting to leave each other on the side of the road. Very fortunate (o;
