Haiti

I woke up last Thursday morning after 1.5 hours of sleep and the first thing I thought was: today is the day I go to get my girls. I was so freaking tired another part of my brain said 'no, not today!' and wanted to roll back over and go to sleep...yes really. When I fell asleep earlier I noted that every single muscle in my body hurt, down to my fingers and toes. This was a culmination of days of preparation, including painting the room the 'night' (in reality, just a few hours) before. Why so last minute? Well, there has been an ongoing construction project going on in my house, which involves changing out one room, and making it for LG, so the girls could go into his old bedroom. Let me just say the construction on LG's room is NOT finished, which was/is really disappointing. But, that's the way it is so we're dealing with it. Meanwhile the poor kid is living out of boxes and sleeping on the couch. Anyway, Janet and I had spent hours putting together their bunk bed before I started painting, and I swear that bed had 400 pieces to it. We were getting a little goofy putting the dang thing together. T n T wanted to help too :)

I got up and got moving and started feeling a little better. At least I had not pulled a true all nighter like I had done twice before. I left for the airport later than I would have liked, and got stuck in some nasty early morning Atlanta traffic, which worried me. I arrived at the ticketing counter 50 minutes before my flight was to leave, a little strung out. But there was no line. When I came up to the counter the lady started yelling at me that I had to go to the kiosk. I said it was an international flight, she yelled 'you have to go to the kiosk' so I went back, and sure enough it scanned my passport and printed my boarding passes. Then I had to go back to the counter to check my bags. I did NOT go to her window, I'd had enough of her. I have noticed that American Airlines has some rude employees over the last two years that I have flown exclusively with them. Anyway, positive my big bag (full of donations) was over 50 lbs, but it was only 40 lbs, I could not believe it! The gate was very close, in the main terminal, as I remembered it. I did not wait for long when I got there. It was almost time to board. But that is when I quit worrying and actually got really excited, thinking 'Yay! I'm going to get my girls!'

The irony. I'm boarding a plane---me---and I'm relieved and happy! I sat next to this really cute (too young) guy with a multitude of tattoos, who crossed himself before take-off and looked at me sheepishly afterwards. Hey, I was thanking him. I was too tired, I was giddy. I fell asleep on and off on the tarmac hoping I was not snoring. I fell asleep in the air. When we arrived in Miami, he crossed himself again, and self consciously smiled at me. Got off the plane and realized I was at the same gate Mrs. K and I were at the year before. Walked past the restaurant where we met Aves that day and had had a quick lunch, I suddenly realized the date, that I was back here exactly 10 months to the day that we had traveled this same route, same flights. It was all so eerily familiar. I thought of how long the last 10 months had felt. Once I was here in the same place, it felt like no time at all. In honor of our 10 month travel anniversary I ate at the same place and then went to find my gate which was in another terminal. I had a 4 hour layover and the planes were on time. When I got to the gate, there were alot of people hanging out even though we were not leaving for another 3 hours. I recognized a guy that came to Walls last summer trying to sell us some Haitian dolls and other crafts; what was strange was that he was on my last flight coming home too. He looked at me like he recognized me but could not quite place me. I was really too tired to socialize. I did not want to talk to strangers about my adoption. After calling Janet to make sure she survived the bunk-bed assemble, I sat across from the gate and watched TV and dozed. Finally I woke up, and several groups of people at the gate were in heated discussions, no doubt about Haitian politics, and I was glad I was sitting where I was. I did not have the energy for that on this day. I wanted to reserve myself for my girls.

The flight to Port-au-Prince was smooth and uneventful although the landing was a bit bumpy. When I stepped out of the plane I could feel a cool breeze from the top of the riser. I have never, ever felt a cool breeze in PaP before. Got thru immigration quickly, and started searching for my bags. Finally found the first one on the conveyor. Looking for #2 and the electricity goes out. That is the second time that's happened while I have been in that airport. Everyone groaned, but I was hoping my 2nd bag was on that long snake of a conveyor somewhere and not still outside. Luck was with me; I found it, and ran for the exit. Just then the power came back. I got outside and the swarming began, I just kept saying no, no, no, and searching for M's face in the crowd. Finally I saw her waving and she backs some Haitian guy off my luggage. We hug and kiss, and she says she is waiting for one more person, her friend, is on this flight. So while we are waiting we catch up. It has been a long time since I had this much face time with her. Her cell phone rings incessantly. She tells me the girls are good, and W is SO READY! I ask what about L, she just shrugs and says, L is L. (As I blog more about the girls, you will begin to understand that. I already knew what she meant, that is my Baby Pistol) She says she will take me to the hotel, and then bring the girls over later. I notice she has lost at least 30 lbs. I mention that, and she kind of half smiles. I ask her if that is on purpose, and she says 'yeah' and shrugs. Then she says 'it's mostly because of stress'.

I had already surmised that but I did not know if she would tell me or not. She went on to talk about how difficult things had become and how she would wake up in the middle of the night worrying. This is mostly around a few files that are stuck in a crazy bureaucratic conundrum. But, she said, she had made contact with a judge (?) who was sympathetic and eager to resolve the problem and she had an appointment with him soon, and was hopeful. I could tell also that she was jacked because the girl's files went thru. They were the first American files to pass in months, and there are more to follow soon, so it seems the log-jam is loose. I have said this before (maybe not on this forum) but M is a very determined woman who does not like to fail. She came right out and said that. But she didn't have to, I already knew it, because I know her character and I have somewhat of an understanding of what she is up against. She told me to tell the others that are waiting that we must not remain discouraged, we must not fight amongst ourselves, we must use our energies positively to band together, (reading between the lines, to support her) to get these kids home. She said there is tremendous pressure, building more everyday, and it is beginning also with French and Canadian governments as well.

Anyway, we wait and wait, and she wonders where her friend is. Finally, the woman emerges. She has a Haitian guy pushing a luggage cart with 5 or 6 bags on it. M gets all excited when she sees her and we start moving towards ? I'm guessing M's vehicle, and I'm just walking along airport row, looking for it, when a stubby little tiny SUV pulls up and M yells "Watch out, Marta!" I realize this is our ride. I meet M's cousin Regine, who is driving. We look at all the luggage and the little SUV and our four giant purses, and everybody laughs. But we pile it in. There are also two empty water bottles in there, that need to go for refilling, I assume, and they could take up a whole seat alone. We cram everything and everyone in there, laughing all the way. Everyone except the Haitian guy who is now asking Miss Miami Diva for some money for his trouble. MMD's attitude completely changes from sweet and flirtatious to something more moody. Her eyes are hooded. She flips her hair and then smooths it back with her hand. He asks again (and againandagainandagainandagian) with always the same reaction. Regine drives away. I felt bad for the guy, but I was laughing at MMD's audacity and her ability to pull it off. By now we are driving in Port, so no time to think about it. We get up to the main road, and Regine decides we are going to take a shortcut to the Visa Lodge, which requires cutting straight across 4 lanes of very busy traffic. For the second time that day I wonder if I am going to die en route to getting my girls. (The first time was when the Airbus bounced on landing) but after much honking and other adieu, we get across the road and start climbing up a side (unpaved) 'street'. Some of these side streets in PaP are the gnarliest things I have ever seen, (and I'm a skier!) and I mean that in the most literal sense. The only visual I can give you is it's like driving up a really twisted tree root. So we bounce around on that for a minute, still laughing about how squished we are in the car, and the street straightens out and is relatively level. Ahead in the distance I see something large. As we get closer I see it is a trash pile. Very large. With two pigs eating on it. As we get closer I realize the pigs are very large. In fact, as we get even closer I realize they are the biggest pigs I have ever seen in my life. They are huge, like wild boar size. But they are not wild boars. They are pigs on a trashpile in Haiti. And as we drive right by them I see they also have 10-12 little piglets with them, noshing around. I was dying to get a photo , but it got very quiet in the car and I was feeling that it would be the wrong thing to do. We get past the pigs, and MMD says, oh so sweetly 'So Marta, is this your first trip to to Haiti?' I say no, it's my 4th trip. M smiles wryly, and the mood lightens up again. We go around another corner or two, and we are at the Visa Lodge.

M actually goes with me to the front desk and haggles my room price for me. That was awesome! She tells me she will be back soon with my girls.

I sort the donations. I unpack. I go upstairs and lay on the chaise lounge chair, and take a few photos, until the mesquitos start biting. To which I think "Oh hell no!" and go back to my room. I'm not hungry, but I am still very tired, so I lay down and decided I'm going to take a nap even though I am so restless I don't think I can sleep. I am awakened some time later by a loud knock on the door. I open it, and there is M with one little girl on each side of her. I am always shocked at how tiny they are. And then they both shout in unison "Hello Mommy, we love you!" and run to me.