We arrived in Haiti April 9th, and walked off of our plane into a bustling crowd of all sorts of people. We were filed into a line for tourists, and once we picked up our bags, met up with Patrick and Will, our guides and security. The small silver Nissan van we climbed into made a cozy and sardine-like ride, which propelled us throughout the crowded and hectic streets of Delmas (pronounced "Dell-mah"). We stopped for gas and noticed a security officer with a shotgun guarding the pumps. A peculiar sight for people like us. The vehicles of Delmas consisted of motorcycles, pick-up trucks, and vans. Large diesel trucks squeezed through the narrow streets, filled with water rather than gasoline or anything else. They would stop and sell what they had to anyone willing to pay. Driving through Delmas would be a stretch, it consisted more of dodging others and forcing your way through the traffic, honking horns a more common form of communication than Creole. Strangely enough, I felt safer on those streets than some of the ones in Seattle, Eli on the other hand, did not. A lack of seat belts did nothing to help. Our first stop was at the Apparent Project, where women are given a safe place to make mugs, jewelry, and other pieces of art while providing an income for their family. Across the street we found the Cafe Papillon - the store and restaurant selling the Apparent Project's goods. We enjoyed delicious iced pink frozen lemonades and then went on our way. The second stop was the Radio Hill Observatory, which, despite the name, was neither a Radio tower, nor specifically an Observatory. While you could look out over Haiti a little over half a mile in the hills, one could also order lunch or dinner. Sadly, we were high enough up that the clouds obscured our view after ten minutes. Eli ordered the shrimp fettuccine whilst I ordered the Creole style Lambi (Conch). The food was great, and after the dinner we headed out down the hill, the rain starting as we left.

Once again, we dodged people and cars alike as the rain washed everything down the hill. The startling part of the streets isn't the driving or the people, it's the trash. The trash comes down stream with the rain, so in the lower parts of Haiti, and in the poorer neighborhoods, the trash would be in piles, strewn about. As we moved up the hill, the presence of trash was not nearly as bad. Later, when we would arrive at the guest house (with a heightened adrenaline and a few "Thank the Lord"'s), there was barely any trash, and a few people sweeping outside. Back to where we left off, with us trundling down the hill. I took a nap, so Eli's take will fill in here. We went to the "Giant Grocery Store", a shop the size of a QFC or medium size Safeway for us. The pricing was in English, strangely enough, but the products were local, the labels in Creole. We then drove to the "Shooters Bar and Grill", where the parents and I enjoyed the "Prestige" beer of Haiti (really the only available beer in the country) and Eli enjoyed a Fanta. I was able to purchase a "Fruit Champagne" which is a non-alcoholic soda that is best described as a fruity cream soda. The best soda I have ever tasted. As the rain turned into a downpour, Eli and I heard "Thwunk-Splat", the sound of ripe mangoes falling onto the ground. We retrieved 5 of them, but they have gone untouched. After Shooter's, we finally drove to the guest house, "On a Hill". Meliana's daughter Daniella met us at the gate, and we moved our luggage into the house. Dinner consisted of rice and beans, along with fried "breadfruit" which is exactly as the name implies - fruit with the taste and consistency of bread (A now personal favorite of mine). As the evening wound down, the sound of distant voodoo drums reverberated throughout the muggy and hot air, everything took on a slightly sticky property, the humidity filling the room, making every action feel like moving through a vat of gross, sweaty molasses. Wonderful! In all honesty, I wouldn't have traded it for anything. It was one of the best days I have had in a long while. We settled down, and let sleep drift us off to sleep. Or, in Eli's case, taunt us into restless and just more tiring sleep. All in all, we had a good day, and I felt humbled by God's creation, the awe of a different culture and a different society.