Haiti Days 8 and 9: The Even Loooooonger Road Home...

So...this post is a long time coming...I wrote it back in October, but am now just getting around to posting it. Enjoy...

Thursday morning, we woke up early to begin our long journey home to the States. We weren’t sure that we would be able to get out of the country. Thursday was the first day the airport would be open and we could only image how many people would be trying to get out of Haiti. Additionally, we had been hearing reports of the roads between Jacmel and Port-au-Prince being washed away. Several trucks had left for the capital city and returned over the past few days due to road blockages; but that morning, a semi had left about 5am and not returned which was a good sign.

Contrary to previous reports, the bus to take us to PaP was able to navigate the damage and pick us up right at our hotel. As we loaded our things, it was really sad saying goodbye to Pastor Fedony, Rodrigue and the rest of our hosts from the week. We cried, hugged, took pictures and exchanged promises of keeping in touch and returning next year. Pastor gave Christine and I a bag of gnips for a snack during our journey home. A few of our new friends were to accompany us to the airport, and some, like Windelle, we were to drop off at their homes near PaP. The bus was not nearly as cramped as on our arrival as we had about 1/2 as fewer bags and luggage as before. Everyone had a seat!

The ride home was eerie. I couldn’t believe that I was leaving this country so soon. I wanted to stay. The countryside was still beautiful despite the damage. We passed little villages on our way back to PaP and people just continued on with their lives as nothing had happened despite the clear mudslides and damaged buildings. As we drove, it was evident that there had been many many mud and rock slides over the main road, but the local people must have cleared them away. As we continued along, we chatted, sang songs, took pictures and videos...and then, almost exactly halfway through the 5 hour journey, we came to the mother of all mud slides…

There was a huge line of cars waiting to get across. The earth had completely covered the road. The blockage was almost 3 stories high with huge boulders and trees mixed in, and the slide continued down a ravine that was at least a thousand feet below. A long line of people were getting around it by walking single file down the mountain and then back up...which was scary because one of those boulders could have come lose at any minute to tumble down and crush them (to get a better picture in your head, check out my pictures on facebook)

As our bus stopped in the long line, many of us got out and walked up to assess the situation. There were local people with machetes and other tools hacking away at the mud and debris. People said they had been at it since 5 am this morning. We all began to wonder what happened to the truck that had left Jacmel earlier and never returned… Some UN vehicles were parked to the side and the UN guards were just watching. The government wasn’t to arrive for a few more days to help clear the blockage. We didn’t have a few more days; but our fears soon turned from how long it would take to clear the road to wondering if there was even a road anymore under all that mud. We mingled for a while with some of the locals. It was beginning to sprinkle so many of us went back to the bus to take naps and hang out. After about 2 hours, the government finally arrived with 2 big machines to help clear the way. It took about 2 and ½ hours before the road was passable. Thankfully, the mud had not washed it away. When we finally were able to pass, the government wanted to charge us? UH, as if! We did collect cash on the bus and gave it to some of the locals who had worked so hard before the government arrived, and even in conjunction with them to clear the mess. We continued the rest of the way to PaP weaving in and out of the mountains. When we reached the city, it was as if nothing had changed. Trash was still all over the streets; people were everywhere walking around and selling fruit at makeshift markets. When we reached a point where it was time to drop Windelle and her mother off, I cried as she gave me a big hug and made me promise to come back next year. I gave her the bag of gnips and she jumped off the bus. As the bus pulled away, I watched her disappear into the crowd and the distance, and I prayed that she would remain safe and healthy until the next time we would meet.

Getting to the airport was CRAZY. Even the line of cars to get in took forever! When we go to the airport, we unloaded our luggage and Pastor LeFluer pushed us all in a line to get it. It seems as if a lot of military and UN police were all standing outside of the airport (at least 150 or so) but they were doing absolutely nothing! Not even directing people in the right direction. Once inside and through security, there were masses of people pushing their way to the ticket counters to try and get tickets. There was absolutely no order to anything. People were pushing and cutting. Many many people were angry and yelling at others. We pretty much had to lock arms and send our big boys to the front to push our group’s way to the ticket counters. I was able to maneuver my way to the front of a ticket line first because I am so small. Pastor and I were the first to check in and make our way to the waiting area. Our plane was on the tarmac, but it was delayed for who knows what reason.

During our delay, some of us went duty free shopping. I bought a case of Haitian rum, Haitian vanilla and some knickknack souvenirs for friends and supporters. Our plane was about 2 hours late. When we were finally called, we had to walk almost a mile on the tarmac to get to our plane. As we were waiting in line to get on Presidential style, I got my last 2 mosquito bites. I DEFINITELY will not miss the Haitian mosquitoes.

Our plane took off. It was black and hard to make out any land masses over the ocean. Philip was sad that he did not see his wife (err the Mennonite woman) on the way home. We landed in Miami with about 15 minutes to spare before our flight back to Nashville was to take off. Since Tom had no checked luggage, we sent him to run ahead and try and hold our plane. Apparently Tom had made it, but they would not hold the plane for the rest of us. Jerks! But that was the first of many disappointments American Airlines would cause us back in the States that night.

In our rush to get our checked baggage, get through customs, and get to our next plane, we all got separated. Some were stuck waiting at baggage for almost an hour because AA originally announced that a cargo hold on our plan was stuck. It turned out later, that Ben’s bags got left behind in Haiti! On the other side of customs, a security agent told me to go the completely wrong way which led me out of security. I got soooooo lost from the rest of the group. I tried to go back through security but the gate people to me that the airport was closed. I went to the AA ticket counter and they told me that to rebook a flight I needed to wait in this little gated area in the middle of the walkway. I felt like an animal in a holding pin. They put several other angry Haitians in this space with me. When I tried to leave to find my friends, the AA lady yelled at me and told me I couldn’t go. It was demoralizing the way she was treating us. Philip finally called me and asked where I was. He told me to come to the ticket counter inside security. I told him my story of how I was in a holding pin and the lady wouldn’t let me out, so he and Tom came to find me. When I saw them, I immediately began to cry. I couldn’t control it! Culture shock, exhaustion, being treated like dirt…I don’t know what it was but the tears just kept coming. The lady holding me yelled at Philip and Tom too, but they broke me out of jail and we went back to where the others were waiting.

At the second ticket counter, there were about 30 people waiting in line to rebook tickets, get hotels for the night or to make a claim for the many many bags that were left behind in Haiti. It was almost midnight at this point. I made it to the counter and asked to be rebooked to Chicago, but the AA people told me if would cost over $500. Our contract said I could rebook for free but they would not honor it! Did I mention I hate AA!!!??? CRAZY! If I rebooked to Nashville, I would have to find another flight back to Chicago. I was still hoping that I would make it back in the morning to teach my first class. Not so! I got out of line and got on my computer to try and find cheaper flights to no avail. Apparently Gustav reeked havoc on all air traffic flying in and out of gulf states. I resigned myself to going to Nashville with the others the next day, and trying to get back to Chicago somehow after that. Philip was able to rebook all of our flights, but Ben and Pastor were trying to fly elsewhere also, so we hung around until they tried to get their tickets. Several Haitians were very angry and yelling at the ticket agents. Then, all at once, the ticketing people all kind of looked at each other, and then just all walked away leaving many people with no tickets, no hotels, no bags...including us. Unbelievable! Bucky got it all on film. Later he told me “I think you just got your free ticket to Chicago, Joy!”

When no one came back to help those who still needed to rebook their flights or give us hotel vouchers, we headed to the curbside pick ups and got on the first hotel shuttle we saw. I had tried to get my sister to get us rooms at a Starwood hotel, but they were either booked, or way far away. We ended up staying at a Red Roof Inn. Once checked in, I took a shower, called my mom and Josh, and finally calmed myself down. We ordered pizza and hung out in a room for a majority of the evening. I called and cancelled my original flight from Nashville to Chicago and called Sandy and Christine to take care of thing at school for me. I was really looking forward to meeting my kids Friday…and not at all excited of having to take another unpaid day off of school. Oh well.

Later in the evening, Ben knocked on my door. When I answered, he simply said, I have a lady on the phone who put me on a flight to Chicago tomorrow for free, do you want to get on too? OH MY GOODNESS!!! I was elated. When I got on the phone, she apologized profusely to me for the way in which we were treated by the AA people. I don’t know what Ben said to her, but as quickly as she said she was sorry, I was on the 8am flight home with Ben. (Apparently, Ben has quite a fun time on the phone with the AA people before knocking on my door…for a full account of his wheelings and dealings that evening, check out Ben Holton’s Haiti note about me on facebook).

Ben and I got up early and caught the shuttle to the airport. I was so tired and so weary that I know I wasn’t very much fun to talk to or be around by that point. We made it to our flight on time, and like that, we were in Chicago. Unfortunately we didn’t get to sit near each other, and he had to book it off the plane to catch his connection to St. Louis, but I was able to thank him later for helping me get home.

It was so weird to be back in Chicago after all of that. I caught a cab home, and while in the cab, the driver had the Republican Convention on and John McCain was giving his speech nominating Sarah Palin as his VP. I just remember being confused and thinking “who’s that???” I went to school immediately after I got home. I think I was in culture shock and I just didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to pick up the stuff from the sub and get things ready for next week. I also knew lots of people would want to hear about my experience, so I got all of that out of the way. I also wanted the nurse to check out my knees and hands. Tammy told me that I needed to go to the doctor because they looked infected. I got to meet my last period class for a few minutes. Everyone told me I looked like exhausted! Philip told me to ask my kids what they thought of me when they first saw me! Haha. I don’t think I want to know.

All in all, it has taken me a long time to readjust to life in IL after experiencing all that I did in Haiti. It took me a long time to go to a Starbucks or a mall without thinking about how vain I was, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of the kids and teens that I became close to in Haiti and pray for their safety and health. There have been 3 more hurricanes to hit Haiti in the weeks following my return home completely devastating the country. Many people have no food. New crops won’t be ready for months. The need there now is greater than ever. I have to confess that sometimes I feel guilty when I’m out to dinner or confronted with a large meal. I’ve certainly realized how lucky I am here in the states, and take a look at just how much I take certain things for granted and reevaluate some of my habits. I’ve been racking my brain ever since I got home as to how I can continue to help from Chicago…

Going back to school was a gift. I am thankful for my kids this year. They are such a nice group of students and they were so excited for me when I finally returned. Apparently my volleyball team was down at my room everyday worried sick for me too…Sandy was really good about giving them updates and explaining what as going on. And the trip has been an easy tool to share my faith with my kids. My experiences have provided me opportunities for teachable moments on social and character issues too…

It was definitely a life changing experience...one I hope I will continue to have in the years to come…My life plan in Haiti is not over yet, and I can’t wait to see what is in store for me next...