Tour Guide

This was typed last night, but before I could post it, the Internet became temperamental.

 The video is taken from the back of the Tap              Tap on our way back to Gertrude's.

What a day!  I’ll skip the details about my tutoring in the morning because that was the most normal part of the day.  Our driver, Son—who is a friend of Son Son—arrived at 12:30, and we all climbed into the back of the Tap Tap that Son had borrowed from his friend Son Son.  It was great having our own personal vehicle, and sitting in the back gave us great views and fresh air. 

Apparent Project

Market

Our first stop was The Apparent Project up on Delmas 75.  I had written down the directions from Delmas 75 to the place which were very clear on paper (road names and landmarks).  We did fine up to the last turn.  After turning around a few times, we found a nice lady who was willing to ride with us and show us how to get to The Apparent Project.  That place is amazing!  The amount of jewelry, iron work, dresses, etc. is awesome, and the quality is top notch.  The organization is run by an American couple, and it has grown from a couple of workers to over 200.  Pretty cool.

Back of Tap Tap

Orphanage

Tap Tap

Orphanage Road

That was the uneventful part of the day.  See, the next stop was a lookout point up the mountain.  I didn’t know the name of it (actually, I didn’t know that it had a name).  But, the security guards at The Apparent Project said they knew, so they gave directions to Son.  We headed out about 2:40.  The drive up was beautiful!  We went through Petionville, a wealthier suburb of Port-au-Prince.  You can definitely tell that that’s where folks with money live.  As we left Petionville, the air grew chillier and fresher.  As we wound our way up the mountain, we did see gorgeous views.  And then we kept going up.  And up.  And up.  Around 4:00 Son stopped and asked me some questions.  Unfortunately, my Creole isn’t super good, and I couldn’t understand what he was saying.  Fortunately, there was a nice couple walking alongside the road that spoke French.  My new Canadian friends who are fluent in French stepped up and asked them to help us understand what Son was saying.  They then gave us directions on how to get to this lookout point.  So, we continued upward.

Parka Man

We eventually came to the Baptist Mission which I thought was a bit too far up the mountain, but we hadn’t seen anything that looked like a lookout point with a café and gift shop.  We stopped again for directions, and we were told we were so close.  By this time it’s about 4:10.  We turned around and took a side road through a small market, went up a bit, and then went down a ditch road, which was not alongside the mountain’s edge, and ended up at a locked, black gate.  We all knew that somehow this was not a lookout point.  One of the first clues was that we were no longer near the mountain’s edge.  Another clue was all the children sitting on top of the roof of the building behind the gate.  We talked with the security guard for a couple of minutes and discovered that we had arrived at an orphanage.  At that point I told Son that it was getting late (4:30) and that we should probably head back down the mountain. 

He turned around and started back up the ditch road, forgetting that I was not in the Tap Tap yet.  I had to run after him to catch my ride back!  Now, it was a bit cooler up there than down in PAP.  But, none of us thought it was THAT cold.  However, one of the guys at the market certainly thought it was—he had on a full-length parka and a motorcycle helmet to keep warm.  I laughed.  I couldn’t help it.  And I tried to take a picture.  At that precise moment, Son had to slam on the breaks.  I slid the entire length of the bench, crashed into Sharon, who in turn crunched her nine-year-old daughter Malia into the window of the Tap Tap.  My legs went flying up in the air (thank God I wasn’t wearing a skirt).  The entire market laughed at the goofy “blancs” in the Tap Tap.  However, I persevered and did get a picture of Parka Man.

Blokis

Blokis

Going down a mountain is much faster than going up a mountain.  We made it back down to Three Hands in about 50 minutes.  I told Malia that we would be home in about 20 minutes.  I lied.  Minutes later we were stuck in the worst “Blokis” (traffic jam) that I have ever seen.  No kidding, it took us an hour to go what would normally take 5 minutes.  We finally got through to where we could turn off, and we all cheered:  “Bravo, Son!  Bravo, Son!”  We cheered too soon.  We turned onto a side road that takes us back into the neighborhood where the orphanage is.  Unfortunately, we got about a mile down the road and ran into another “blokis.”  This one was because someone had decided to put boulders across the road to stop traffic.  So, we turned around and went back to the HUGE “blokis” we had just left.  It was chaos. Serious chaos.  At one point I jumped out and told Son that we would just walk back—it would only take about 20 minutes.  He emphatically said no.  I insisted.  He said no again.  I listened to him and climbed back into the Tap Tap.  He was right—if we had walked back it would have been dark before we got back, and I am not quite at the point where I think walking in the dark in PAP is a good idea.  The “blokis” was nuts.  A big bus was trying to get through, but no one was letting.  At one point the bus pulled right up to the side of our vehicle and was a mere inches away from hitting us.  People were banging on hoods of vehicles trying to get them to move (where they were supposed to go, I don’t know), others were attempting to direct traffic, horns were blaring.  We finally go through and made it down Rte. National #1 to another turn off into the neighborhood.  This one was clear.  Thank God.  We finally arrived at the orphanage at 6:40. 

Even though I didn’t get the group to the lookout point, we did see lots!  It just wasn’t what we had planned on seeing.  After dinner I was sitting on the roof with my friends Kim and Mary and telling them about our day.  Turns out, we weren’t even on the right mountain!  And, the place has a name—Radio Hill.  If I’d only known.