Saturday in Port au Prince, March 20, 2010

No rain this morning! People out in droves doing Saturday things. One thing was a food distribution wait line that really must have stretched more than one half mile in all. I asked one of the translators how long people would typically wait, and he said "all day". At least more than a few hours, from the look of it. Clinic was good, a steady stream most of the day, it seemed. Lots and lots going on out on the street below. At lunch, dragged Kim out with the guys (Marc and Jean, two locals and translators at the clinic ) who were such exquisite guides at my lunch the other day. I think she liked being in the neighborhood. Marc took us to see his house. I'll put the video on facebook later, but it's pretty sobering.

Marc lived in the US for 10 years, too, before coming back to Haiti not too long ago. His whole family is in fact still in the US in Florida. This is hard on him, as it is for everyone. Marc truly  is a wealth of inside information, and he reminds me that some of the best resources are right under our noses all day long. He was discussing the cultural differences that he has trouble with here vs. the US, and how everything here is kept in the dark--those in the know, or possessing a particluar skill or piece of education--work to keep it secret from people so that they retain their position of relative power. Or preserve a livelihood that might not otherwise be marketable. For a 'medical' example of this shifty kind of entrepreneurism, he said that there are people on the streets of Port au Prince who make their living by walking the around with a blood pressure cuff and simply charging people to have their BP checked. No medicine, no treatment to offer. Hell, they aren't even doctors or health care professionals! There are people who carry scales around in the same fashion, and people actually pay to be weighed. They play on people's perception of the mystery of medicine in general. It's sad, and unfair, and frankly, pointless. It explains a lot though, as far as all the people I've seen this week who tell me they have high blood pressure but who have never been diagnosed or treated by a doctor. Some will go to their local pharmacist and ask for blood pressure medicine and will get something or other...no idea if it is right for them or safe.

Then they take it for a while, until they feel better, and...

Not that I haven't seen this here in the US. But here, I don't think you will catch anyone allowing themselves to be charged a few dollars on the street for some guy with a cuff to check their BP and tell them it's high, low or even perfect. We just don't work like that. We would balk!
So; onward. Said goodbyes after lunch to catch my ride to PAP. I am not good at that part; I prefer to believe I will be back again and that no major goodbye is in order. And so far, I've been right. But just in case,  I had my last beans and rice lunch today. I will miss it! I again gave the second half away as it's waaay to large a plate. But good stuff. And with it my last Fruit pop. And for the line to security in the airport, a farewell present: The long awaited bottle of "Prestige" beer. Blech! But it's the symbolic significance that tasted good.

The airport was full of people like me, more and more blancs in matching Tshirts, more young faces that haven't yet begun to show the little bit of extra aging that this experience adds to one's countenance. Going to Haiti is routine again almost. But it's a new routine, for sure. Or maybe it's leaving Haiti that has become the routine?
Looks easy, feels easy enough too now. But it stays with you under your skin. Not quite so routine as you thought, maybe.

Until next time,

Jen