After my severely delayed flight, my eagerness to be here doubled. As the captain made his final announcement confirming our imminent arrival, it seemed the misty daze which had narrated my entire day before then began to dissipate. The view from my window seat was beautiful. The vast blue ocean which paralleled the stark mountainous terrain told such an honest narrative.
I was a bit overdressed for the 90 degree weather which greeted me at Port-au-Prince, my PSU sweats left me drenched in perspiration. But in all honestly after battling through the bitter cold winter of NYC a little honest sweat did me oh so good. :)
After the prolonged immigration process, I charged for my luggage. Ironically I found my luggage with relative ease, (I am not quite sure if this is common for international airports given my limited experience but in Haiti there are these multitudes of uniformed men employed to simply assist you with your luggage, a sure tip highly recommended of course) their devout eagerness to assist me with my belongings was slightly stifling. As I looked around me I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. My incessant “non merci’s ” ( no thank you’s) weren’t registering. There were at least 5 uniformed men at all times literally grabbing my suitcases from my hands demanding to be of service, this was outrageous. I was slightly confused given that these men were supposedly at my disposal.
My eager helpers
But one look into their eyes I discovered their ardent readiness to help me lug over 150 pounds of shenanigans wasn’t to simply annoy me, or assist me, or drive me insane etc. As I began to center my attention on their needs, I realized it was my obligation to provide them with a glimpse of hope. I had experienced foreign lands, lands which were synonymous to prosperity, affluence, a better life, and now they wanted proof. fair enough right?