Kicking It In Cite Soleil

So tonight will be a multi-posting blog. Two presents for you all to enjoy! First, what happened in words.


The morning started with us heading over to mass at 7am. This is my 3rd mass so far on my trip and only the 6th mass of my life. I'm becoming more and more Catholic by the day (not really, no worries). The church is on the NPH campus, which is evident by the daily funerals for the cholera victims that take place during mass. Today is no exception.


After mass, Rachel hunts down a friend of a friend and we get set up for a day working on the water truck. NPH delivers water to the most needy areas around Port-au-Prince and, unlike other trucks, doesn't charge for the water. Our guide for the day is Dimanch, who is honestly one of the largest human beings I've ever seen in person. Muscles for days.


Dimanch and two of his friends stick us in the cab of the Mack semi and we head off to Cite Soleil. Cite Soleil was once considered the most dangerous slum in the entire world until 2007 when the United Nations moved in, forced the gangs out, and got the dangerous situation under control. After a crowded four person cab ride to the slums, we set up the truck in the middle of a shack area. Kids and women come running as if they knew we were coming, screaming and holding plastic buckets. A chorus of "hey you!" is shouted at Rachel and I, since we are the only white people in miles.

We take pictures and make many little friends as their mothers fill literally thousands of plastic buckets with water. We do this twice during the day which takes us over six hours and by 4pm Rachel has gotten tired and I'm sun burnt to a crisp.

The day has gone by quickly and all I want to do now is rest. However, we need to make a quick food run to the market (Quick trivia: What kind of store has armed guards with shotguns standing along the entrance gate? Haitian grocery stores). I am dying for some pizza and while that's not going to happen, Rachel and I grab some canned pasta sauce and noodles for dinner. The only reason I share this story is because we are joined for dinner by the most diverse group of people I've ever hung out with: an Argentinian, two Irish women, a Haitian, a Canadian nun, a French surgeon, a Dutch project manager, and us two Americans. If nothing else, this trip has shown me that the world comes together to do good things in times of need. We are drinking and talking and I'm about ready to sleep. During the last week, every night I feel like I never know what is store for the next day when I go to sleep. But I'm sure tomorrow will provide another plethora of entertaining events.