I had to go through downtown Port Au Prince to go to a couple locations for survey yesterday, wow was that a sight. First off, the road there was just a solid mess of huge holes. Then, piles of trash everywhere and people rummaging through it and around it, it almost appeared that the whole city was a public dump. Not only that, but I drove through a street full of cars, broken cars, with the most insane parts missing. My driver told me that this was the street for the public garage. You take it here and people take care of the car. Out of all the places I have been so far, I have not seen a town quite in shambles this badly.
I drank coconut water straight from the coconut today, well I’m not actually sure if it was a coconut or not, I think it was like a coconut but not what we know of a coconut. It was a green/yellow large round fruit - the top is sliced off so you can drink the water from the spout in the middle. I thought it was alright, not great though. They said it was very healthy for you. Then, they cut the fruit in half and scrape out the inside, which is a thin strip of a jelly-like substance. Surprisingly (especially for me!) I really didn’t like the consistency of it, so my driver ate the jelly.
Here, for some very strange reason, everyone has 2 cell phones and 2 landline numbers. EVERYONE. I’m really lost as to why this is the case
Never seen such incompetent people at a flight location in my life. Here and back. The Haitian people in general seem very nice, very smart but man – there were about 10 fights over seats on the plane ride back, and I had my own issue which I spoke about above about the ride over. The stewardesses had to get in the middle of all the fights to be the one to sort them all out. I couldn’t believe it.
From there, the flights were fine. Although, we had a really hard landing in St. Thomas. Right before landing, the plane kept rocking back and forth and dropping and going back up again. I was really nervous and almost screamed when we landed really hard, but then I realized we were fine and on land. Without realizing it, I actually grabbed the hand of the lady sitting to my left.
I met a nice Puerto Rican guy at the hotel who was here working who helped me find good restaurants to visit and also tried to convince me that I should rent a car rather than use a taxi, which I might actually do.
Well I really need to get to work now! More tonight.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
If only men knew how charming they really are...
So today I found out that my Brookline friend is actually the nephew of the President of Haiti. Go figure. He’s also got a MIT grad school education. Not too bad. He also “smoothly” tried to sleep in my bed last night. He had originally got a room but ended up checking out and staying with his co-worker instead, on a really small bed, and tried to convince me (well – half-assed tried to convince me) that my bed was much more homey and looks very comfortable. After I left their room after hanging out for a few he knocked on my door and tried the “I got kicked out” excuse to try one other time. I don’t get what it is here, I usually don’t have these sorts of situations. Really persistent French guy. Nice Brookline guy who tried to get into bed with me. And then today while in the market, I exited the phone place just to be completely surrounded by about 10 young men who were very aggressive, really surrounded me and were all saying some pretty crude things. I was a little nervous but also in a bit of a weird position because I was looking for my driver at the time. There was a guard standing at the door of the phone place of course, and when I couldn’t immediately find my driver I turned to go back in but then he called my name and I made my way through the crowd. Ugh so sketchy. The people here in Haiti are nice, for the most part, but I think it’s mainly surface nice. Maybe like we are in the US. This is no Africa. Though, I really like many of the workers here. I think it’s a combination of the men liking the single blond girl, and the women admiring me for being here on my own.
The realtor I went out with yesterday seemed to be a really nice, genuine, smart guy. Grew up in Haiti until he was 15, moved to France, then back to Haiti and now lives in NYC. We went to an excellent restaurant (Quartier Latin) and just talked and talked, and I had escargot for the first time. Actually, I had it for lunch, and I tried it for dinner as well. It wasn’t bad! Especially in the right sauce. I asked Mr. Klang about safety here in PAP and he told me that it use to be an issue because there was gang violence, but it has improved very much so. He said he was even approached once as people tried to hijack his car, he had a guy on his left pointing a gun to his head and another one with a gun on the side where his daughter was sitting. The guy near his daughter actually shot the gun and it missed his daughter and hit Mr. Klang’s leg; instead of surrendering the car he slammed on the gas and got out of there and then drove to the hospital. I’m really not sure how long ago this was. Mr. Klang shared with me (which I never knew!) that when you eat oysters, they are very much alive. Ewwwww, I really never knew this! I don’t know if I can ever eat another, even though I really don’t like them in the first place! Also, interesting home fact: In the restaurant, there were balls of water (plastic bags with water in them) hanging from the ceiling. Apparently, this keeps the flies away because they see their reflection and get scared!
I went out last night with the older French guy that I had met. We went to a local, much less expensive restaurant, we got escargot fritters for an appetizer, so ya – twice in one day! Ian appears to be a sinister, opinionated French older man, (which I have found is not unusual for the French) but we had some good conversations, from history, to travel, Obama, to the pros and cons of European and American society. In the middle of our meal, the electricity cut out leaving us all in the pitch black (at which time I quickly grabbed my purse!) Electricity cutting out really isn’t unusual here; actually it happened many times at the hotel. I ate way too much at dinner, and afterwards we took a ride around the town. It was creepy – it was pitch dark aside from the small candles and fires in the street. Twice we drove through people partying and dancing in the streets, and I do have to say I was slightly nervous. It was a good night, though, I had a good time with Ian. Then we went back to the hotel and I ran into both my French/Haitian lover who had been trying desperately all evening to get in touch with me (he was leaving tomorrow and tonight would be our last and only chance together) and my Brookline friend who looked exhausted. His colleague asked me if I had any interest in helping them write up a business proposal for sustainable wind energy in Haiti, and I said that I would be interested. Why not, and – they are trying to do good for the country. I think it’s a great idea.
The realtor I went out with yesterday seemed to be a really nice, genuine, smart guy. Grew up in Haiti until he was 15, moved to France, then back to Haiti and now lives in NYC. We went to an excellent restaurant (Quartier Latin) and just talked and talked, and I had escargot for the first time. Actually, I had it for lunch, and I tried it for dinner as well. It wasn’t bad! Especially in the right sauce. I asked Mr. Klang about safety here in PAP and he told me that it use to be an issue because there was gang violence, but it has improved very much so. He said he was even approached once as people tried to hijack his car, he had a guy on his left pointing a gun to his head and another one with a gun on the side where his daughter was sitting. The guy near his daughter actually shot the gun and it missed his daughter and hit Mr. Klang’s leg; instead of surrendering the car he slammed on the gas and got out of there and then drove to the hospital. I’m really not sure how long ago this was. Mr. Klang shared with me (which I never knew!) that when you eat oysters, they are very much alive. Ewwwww, I really never knew this! I don’t know if I can ever eat another, even though I really don’t like them in the first place! Also, interesting home fact: In the restaurant, there were balls of water (plastic bags with water in them) hanging from the ceiling. Apparently, this keeps the flies away because they see their reflection and get scared!
I went out last night with the older French guy that I had met. We went to a local, much less expensive restaurant, we got escargot fritters for an appetizer, so ya – twice in one day! Ian appears to be a sinister, opinionated French older man, (which I have found is not unusual for the French) but we had some good conversations, from history, to travel, Obama, to the pros and cons of European and American society. In the middle of our meal, the electricity cut out leaving us all in the pitch black (at which time I quickly grabbed my purse!) Electricity cutting out really isn’t unusual here; actually it happened many times at the hotel. I ate way too much at dinner, and afterwards we took a ride around the town. It was creepy – it was pitch dark aside from the small candles and fires in the street. Twice we drove through people partying and dancing in the streets, and I do have to say I was slightly nervous. It was a good night, though, I had a good time with Ian. Then we went back to the hotel and I ran into both my French/Haitian lover who had been trying desperately all evening to get in touch with me (he was leaving tomorrow and tonight would be our last and only chance together) and my Brookline friend who looked exhausted. His colleague asked me if I had any interest in helping them write up a business proposal for sustainable wind energy in Haiti, and I said that I would be interested. Why not, and – they are trying to do good for the country. I think it’s a great idea.
Seatbelt not recommended
Strangely enough, almost ever time I reach down to put on my seat belt my driver willem says “no, no seat belt” like it’s going to kill me or something. So I have obliged his request to not wear a seat belt, though I don’t understand it. “In Haiti, no” he says, even though I’ve already almost gotten killed twice. Also, I went on a realtor meeting with a guy who has lived between Haiti, France, and NYC, USA his whole life and he also said “you really don’t need to put your seatbelt on here”. This is quite a difference from Gambia, where there is a seat belt requirement, and there are roadblocks everywhere so that police can catch you and make you pay money. Here, the roads are windy, sometimes steep and otherwise absolutely horrible, you can’t get around unless you have a SUV of some type. They drive like maniacs here, too. No stop lights anywhere. No stop signs, or none that are actually taken seriously anyways. They are always passing each other, like who can drive faster on a street that’s going to ruin your car if you do. I held my breath as we climbed up the mountains today so that I could go check it out, especially when passing cars around a windy bend where you couldn’t see if someone was coming on the other side, while he’s on his cell phone. In general, my driver is alright. If I give him an inch, he takes a mile so I’m trying to be careful about that. And often I’ll go in a place and come out to the car and I have absolutely no idea where he is. Then he’ll show up from somewhere across the street like 2 minutes later. He’s always pointing to people and saying “my friend”. This is a very small city.
The “my… endless love” song which is sang by a man and a woman in English is very, very popular here – it plays over and over in my driver’s car and at the hotel. I’m not sure why, it must be from the 80’s. I don’t remember who it’s by, unfortunately. But, I do find it very bizarre. I think that Jamaican music/island music suits this place very well. If it wasn’t so poor, it certainly would feel like a vacation destination for me.
Doing all this traveling really make me realize how unique the USA is as a nation. Our need for each individual person to find their own way and be different really creates a system of promotion and growth, which is not seen in most of the countries. I have a bit of an admiration for it, and even for my own desire to be different. If only everyone was like this, and competition/being unique was actually desired everywhere – the world might be a much better place.
I like Haitian food. I especially like Haitian food because it tastes a bit like Mrs. Salas’ cooking (though in reality, that can’t really be topped) – but it’s the salad with the simple vinegrette which is really good, with fish, and special rice, and of course, plantains – yum yum. Busy day tomorrow, time for bed. Goodnight!
The “my… endless love” song which is sang by a man and a woman in English is very, very popular here – it plays over and over in my driver’s car and at the hotel. I’m not sure why, it must be from the 80’s. I don’t remember who it’s by, unfortunately. But, I do find it very bizarre. I think that Jamaican music/island music suits this place very well. If it wasn’t so poor, it certainly would feel like a vacation destination for me.
Doing all this traveling really make me realize how unique the USA is as a nation. Our need for each individual person to find their own way and be different really creates a system of promotion and growth, which is not seen in most of the countries. I have a bit of an admiration for it, and even for my own desire to be different. If only everyone was like this, and competition/being unique was actually desired everywhere – the world might be a much better place.
I like Haitian food. I especially like Haitian food because it tastes a bit like Mrs. Salas’ cooking (though in reality, that can’t really be topped) – but it’s the salad with the simple vinegrette which is really good, with fish, and special rice, and of course, plantains – yum yum. Busy day tomorrow, time for bed. Goodnight!
FYI Mom I'm getting married on Monday
Internet sucks here. I need to pay my bills eventually. I got a really hard-to-pass up offer by a Haitian French lawyer tonight (born in Haiti, mainly grew up in France). First and most importantly, he made it clear he wanted me to be his lover for the weekend, and then maybe I could move to Miami where he lives, and we could have a house in Cape Cod, travel the world together, maybe get married Monday, and of course, being French, there would always be a nice French meal made when I got home from work every day, with wine, cheese and lovely French music playing in the background, and don’t forget there would be the flowers in my bedroom on a normal basis, and I would never need to pay for anything. I had to listen to all of this starting on my way to dinner (which was where I was stopped) through dinner until he had to go get ready for a party. I could have been very forcefully blunt and mean to him, but I really thought all of it was quite amusing so I hung around to see what he would say next. Despite the fact that “I have been in a serious relationship for a year and a half” this didn’t even scratch the surface when I was trying to give him reasons why I wouldn’t just shack up in his bedroom with him. Quite forward, I have to say – maybe expected being French, and I certainly can see why he is a lawyer. He just doesn’t give up until you inch towards a yes. But I was not inching! It took him way too long before he let me go. And I’m sure I’ll hear a lot more of it tomorrow. Oh, and apparently he’s a rich, reputable lawyer in Miami. And, his Haitian friends carry loaded guns around in their pants. I saw them myself – my friend soon-to-be-husband (on Monday) whose name I don’t even know made sure to flash them for me.
Ahhhh Haiti. I actually kinda like it here. It has character, and flare. It’s so very colorful. People are pretty friendly, and I love my hotel – give me a beautiful view and I can put up with a lot. But the government is beyond corrupt. There is a very large disparity between those that are well-off and those who are poor. And those who are well off could give a rat’s ass that there are thousands and thousands of people living here off of $2/day, while the cost of an average fast-food meal itself is about $15. Even my French husband confirmed that his Haitian friends live in luxury, and don’t care about those who are dirt-poor. It’s sad. Luckily, it’s said to be much safer here over the past couple years – the kidnapping gangs have been driven out so it’s not nearly the problem it use to be. But still, security is very tight (despite the lack of all infrastructure, even banks scan you with a metal detector before you can enter), and there are pictures everywhere indicating “NO GUNS ALLOWED HERE”. Like that would actually make a difference.
Tonight at the reception desk I actually met a guy who lives in Brookline. Go figure. He was here on business too, and it was his first time here. He appeared to be stoned, or really tired. I couldn’t really tell. Anyways, maybe he can save me from creepy French man in the coming days. We already realized that we have the same flight to Miami on Wed. I already have dinner plans tomorrow night with the other nice French older man to go to the typical Haitian restaurant. He told me that I can’t go there alone, a young blonde girl. Though I’m sure two white people walking in won’t be that much better, though at least he’s French and can speak/understand it.
Ahhhh Haiti. I actually kinda like it here. It has character, and flare. It’s so very colorful. People are pretty friendly, and I love my hotel – give me a beautiful view and I can put up with a lot. But the government is beyond corrupt. There is a very large disparity between those that are well-off and those who are poor. And those who are well off could give a rat’s ass that there are thousands and thousands of people living here off of $2/day, while the cost of an average fast-food meal itself is about $15. Even my French husband confirmed that his Haitian friends live in luxury, and don’t care about those who are dirt-poor. It’s sad. Luckily, it’s said to be much safer here over the past couple years – the kidnapping gangs have been driven out so it’s not nearly the problem it use to be. But still, security is very tight (despite the lack of all infrastructure, even banks scan you with a metal detector before you can enter), and there are pictures everywhere indicating “NO GUNS ALLOWED HERE”. Like that would actually make a difference.
Tonight at the reception desk I actually met a guy who lives in Brookline. Go figure. He was here on business too, and it was his first time here. He appeared to be stoned, or really tired. I couldn’t really tell. Anyways, maybe he can save me from creepy French man in the coming days. We already realized that we have the same flight to Miami on Wed. I already have dinner plans tomorrow night with the other nice French older man to go to the typical Haitian restaurant. He told me that I can’t go there alone, a young blonde girl. Though I’m sure two white people walking in won’t be that much better, though at least he’s French and can speak/understand it.
Guns not allowed
Today I got up and went to the gym, which felt good, but tiring. Then I had a great shower and a breakfast and proceeded to head out; I was already feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information I hadn’t started to collect yet. I hired a driver and I was off. I was feeling hesitant and nervous at first, after the warnings and nervousness I had received from everyone, but all-in-all, I have to say, I might even like Haiti, relatively speaking (despite the large guns not allowed signs EVERYWHERE) and the guards with weapons standing at every single doorway. Even they speak only French and Creole and can’t understand a word I say, they are all very friendly, and really don’t ask many questions. When I was at the grocery store today the manager offered me food and invited me to take any products without a price to my own personal check-out isle so I could check the prices with no delay. Not bad. He really was super nice. You don’t get many managers who are very happy to have you surveying their store, and with competition such an issue here, I was wondering if he was viewing my visit as a supporting gesture towards the store, like I was going to promote it to expats. He can think that.
I can’t believe how expensive it is here. I was told by my French friend that they want to pass a law making 5 USD minimum wage here in Haiti (per day) but there is a lot of opposition from people who want to make it 2 USD instead. Also, the cost of goods here are ridiculously expensive, much more expensive than in the USA. No wonder everyone here is dirt poor.
I was starving all day but came home and had a really lovely fish dinner at the hotel and watched some latin dancing from the crowd on the “stage” of the restaurant. I think it was really a get-together birthday for one of the ladies in the crowd. It’s amazing to watch latin women dance, they are just so good at it. Everytime I see it I want to learn to dance like that. I ate at the salad bar tonight so I really hope I don’t get sick tomorrow, though I think I will be fine. I might go to dinner with my friench friend tomorrow.
I can’t believe how expensive it is here. I was told by my French friend that they want to pass a law making 5 USD minimum wage here in Haiti (per day) but there is a lot of opposition from people who want to make it 2 USD instead. Also, the cost of goods here are ridiculously expensive, much more expensive than in the USA. No wonder everyone here is dirt poor.
I was starving all day but came home and had a really lovely fish dinner at the hotel and watched some latin dancing from the crowd on the “stage” of the restaurant. I think it was really a get-together birthday for one of the ladies in the crowd. It’s amazing to watch latin women dance, they are just so good at it. Everytime I see it I want to learn to dance like that. I ate at the salad bar tonight so I really hope I don’t get sick tomorrow, though I think I will be fine. I might go to dinner with my friench friend tomorrow.
So long Brasilia, HELLO Haiti!!
Time to leave day. I had a nice breakfast, made some calls, took a shower and finished my packing. I didn’t make it to the gym, and I checked out a half hour late, but no one was counting. I finished up more of the survey, went to Farm and bought a gorgeous dress that I can’t wait to wear. I went back to the hotel to get some food and my love at the front desk suggested that I go to the tower to see the city (cause you can’t see as much from the top of the hotel, and I wanted to take some pics). So I walked to the tower (and j-walked over a 6 lane highway, by the way), up the elevator, and took some pics. This really is a weird city, I’m not sure what to say about it. Boring and business, but thankfully yummy. I was starving and decided to get some fast-food pizza, which took 15 minutes to cook, and I downed the small pizza and had to make a run for it. My flight was at 645 and it was already 510 and I had just run back to the hotel. I asked the taxi to make some pit stops so I could check out gas prices, and we had a communication barrier. First he went to the one that I already went to. Then he went to another one that I already went to. He was so confused when I kept asking him to go to another one, and another one. Finally, we arrived at a third and he got the gist of what I was doing and he rolled with it and I got 3 other gas stations before arriving at the airport at 6 PM (due to gas stations AND traffic). I freaked out when I saw the line was long. After waiting for 15 minutes (and only getting halfway through the line) I really started freaking out and went up to the desk, told them my destination, and they said they would help me next. But, I had all my bags on a cart in the middle of the line, so I really annoyingly maneuvered my way out with everyone wondering why the hell they were being cut. Oh well. The guy at the desk chatted me and everyone else around me up for 10 minutes before giving me my ticket and telling me to run. Thanks. I made it in at last call, once again. By some miracle my bag made it too.
My flight from Brazil to Miami was an 8 hour pain in my ass, but I sat next to a nice guy and we chatted. Before arriving in Miami, the captain told us that we were going to be flying through a string of thunderstorms so all the flight attendants had to be seated for the remainder of the 30 minute flight. I freaked out a little, I don’t think I have ever flown through thunderstorms. Surprisingly, turbulence was very minimal and we made it in just fine. The skies were clear as we approached Miami, and man it sure was a beautiful sight to see. I have flown to Miami more than once and I really don’t remember it being quite that beautiful.
Miami’s airport is much too large for my liking. I arrived in the terminal I had to leave from, but meanwhile had to walk across the whole damn airport just to get to customs before going back to the same terminal. Once I got there, I sat down and was easily pinpointed as one of the very few white people on the flight. Being a minority can be tough, man. And I was scared of Haiti. The people on the flight were a pain in my ass too. Pushy, aggressive, the flight attendants were throwing bags under empty first-class seats (including mine), and there was a man in my seat. When I tried to dismiss it and get into another one, the rightful owner of that seat came and so I had to tell the guy he was in my seat. He didn’t even wince at me but when someone else overheard me and asked him if he was going to move, he got very defensive and said he was already planning on moving. I tried to put my seat back and the guy behind me asked me to put it back up again. You just don’t do that. Anyways, I passed out on the flight on my tray table but had to move when someone needed to go to the bathroom and then the guy next to me started chatting me up. I just wanted to sleep, for once. This was the most annoying flight ever.
Then I made it to the airport and a guy in back of me kept saying “let’s keep it moving keep it moving” when we were in line for passport control when there was an inch in front of me. Ahhhhh I was sooooo annoyed. Then when I was waiting for the lady in front of me to finish with passport control (she was still standing there) he started yelling at me: “next. NEXT”. So I yelled back “she’s not done yet!” I was SOOO fed up. Then, despite an email and a phone call, the hotel wasn’t there to pick me up and I had to take a taxi which freaks me out cause it’s impossible to know who is legit and who isn’t. There are a bunch of people with plastic tags around their necks and a small sign placed in the window of the car. I almost didn’t care at this point. If I was going to be kidnapped, I was gonna be kidnapped and there wasn’t much that I could do about it.
But, I made it to the hotel. Haiti appeared to be similar to Africa – carrying baskets on their head, poverty, selling food and random items in the streets, streetkids begging for money on the side of your window, but the “buses” were adorable. They were all made up in lots of colors and cute sayings, and they were pickup trucks with a shell covering on top. I’ll have to get some pics of these. Also, randomly there would be a nice-looking building with western influence. It was strange. My taxi ride was $40, but the average Haitian makes $2 per day. These poor countries are ridiculous, I really fall short of understanding how this can actually be the case.
My hotel is beautiful. In the hills, overlooking the city, with lush vegetation and lots of outsideness all around. (Yes I know that’s not a word but it was the only one I could think of to describe what I wanted to say). A good restaurant, awesome hang out areas with great furniture, I love it. I’m happy here, so far. Tomorrow will be interesting. But, as soon as I got in I took a 6 hour nap. I woke up and couldn’t find my travel wallet. I looked EVERYWHERE, and then went down to the front desk to ask them if they had seen anything. Nothing. I re-traced my steps; I authorized my AMEX when I came in, I paid the bellboy 4 quarters when I got into my room. It HAD to be in here, unless someone came in my room when I was sleeping. This was freaking me out. After 30 minutes of complete freak-out, and about to call Tony (my boss) in freak-out mode, I found it; it was lodged between my mattress and the foot of the bedframe. Unbelievable.
I was gonna head out and survey a grocery store, but my freak-out set me back a little, so I decided just to do some work downstairs. I ended up meeting a nice older French man and we chatted a bit, then I did some work and had a pretty good dinner, did some more work and here I am. I think it’s really time for bed now. Night!
My flight from Brazil to Miami was an 8 hour pain in my ass, but I sat next to a nice guy and we chatted. Before arriving in Miami, the captain told us that we were going to be flying through a string of thunderstorms so all the flight attendants had to be seated for the remainder of the 30 minute flight. I freaked out a little, I don’t think I have ever flown through thunderstorms. Surprisingly, turbulence was very minimal and we made it in just fine. The skies were clear as we approached Miami, and man it sure was a beautiful sight to see. I have flown to Miami more than once and I really don’t remember it being quite that beautiful.
Miami’s airport is much too large for my liking. I arrived in the terminal I had to leave from, but meanwhile had to walk across the whole damn airport just to get to customs before going back to the same terminal. Once I got there, I sat down and was easily pinpointed as one of the very few white people on the flight. Being a minority can be tough, man. And I was scared of Haiti. The people on the flight were a pain in my ass too. Pushy, aggressive, the flight attendants were throwing bags under empty first-class seats (including mine), and there was a man in my seat. When I tried to dismiss it and get into another one, the rightful owner of that seat came and so I had to tell the guy he was in my seat. He didn’t even wince at me but when someone else overheard me and asked him if he was going to move, he got very defensive and said he was already planning on moving. I tried to put my seat back and the guy behind me asked me to put it back up again. You just don’t do that. Anyways, I passed out on the flight on my tray table but had to move when someone needed to go to the bathroom and then the guy next to me started chatting me up. I just wanted to sleep, for once. This was the most annoying flight ever.
Then I made it to the airport and a guy in back of me kept saying “let’s keep it moving keep it moving” when we were in line for passport control when there was an inch in front of me. Ahhhhh I was sooooo annoyed. Then when I was waiting for the lady in front of me to finish with passport control (she was still standing there) he started yelling at me: “next. NEXT”. So I yelled back “she’s not done yet!” I was SOOO fed up. Then, despite an email and a phone call, the hotel wasn’t there to pick me up and I had to take a taxi which freaks me out cause it’s impossible to know who is legit and who isn’t. There are a bunch of people with plastic tags around their necks and a small sign placed in the window of the car. I almost didn’t care at this point. If I was going to be kidnapped, I was gonna be kidnapped and there wasn’t much that I could do about it.
But, I made it to the hotel. Haiti appeared to be similar to Africa – carrying baskets on their head, poverty, selling food and random items in the streets, streetkids begging for money on the side of your window, but the “buses” were adorable. They were all made up in lots of colors and cute sayings, and they were pickup trucks with a shell covering on top. I’ll have to get some pics of these. Also, randomly there would be a nice-looking building with western influence. It was strange. My taxi ride was $40, but the average Haitian makes $2 per day. These poor countries are ridiculous, I really fall short of understanding how this can actually be the case.
My hotel is beautiful. In the hills, overlooking the city, with lush vegetation and lots of outsideness all around. (Yes I know that’s not a word but it was the only one I could think of to describe what I wanted to say). A good restaurant, awesome hang out areas with great furniture, I love it. I’m happy here, so far. Tomorrow will be interesting. But, as soon as I got in I took a 6 hour nap. I woke up and couldn’t find my travel wallet. I looked EVERYWHERE, and then went down to the front desk to ask them if they had seen anything. Nothing. I re-traced my steps; I authorized my AMEX when I came in, I paid the bellboy 4 quarters when I got into my room. It HAD to be in here, unless someone came in my room when I was sleeping. This was freaking me out. After 30 minutes of complete freak-out, and about to call Tony (my boss) in freak-out mode, I found it; it was lodged between my mattress and the foot of the bedframe. Unbelievable.
I was gonna head out and survey a grocery store, but my freak-out set me back a little, so I decided just to do some work downstairs. I ended up meeting a nice older French man and we chatted a bit, then I did some work and had a pretty good dinner, did some more work and here I am. I think it’s really time for bed now. Night!
All Sorts of Weirdness
Man I am tired. This survey wore me out. For the past 5-6 days, I have been having really strange pains in my leg. It started with my skin feeling very sensitive to the touch (my left leg) and now my left hip feels bruised and I keep getting shooting pains down my leg. Wonderful. I think this bed is my major problem, but I’m wondering if I also have a virus. I’m gonna give the doctor a call at home, I believe. I think I should. I can’t wait to get into a Marriot bed in St. Thomas… but first I need to go to Haiti first. Tomorrow. Yippee…. One of the last colleagues recommended that you don’t pay over $50 per day to a taxi which does not have a gun in the car. Ugh I can’t wait.
Anyways… moving on from the bad stuff, I’m a little excited about being on my own, although all in all I had a great time with both Joe and Patrick and now I’m on my own for the next 2.5 weeks. I think that it will be fun though, I haven’t been on my own for this short of a time on survey… ever.
Tonight at dinner, I ate a very interesting dish of banana, potatoes, gruyere cheese and fish. It sure was an interesting combination – it wasn’t too bad either. The menus here (unless you are at a hotel) are completely in Portuguese so Patrick and I did a lot of picking entrees blindly. I think maybe they think having your handbag on the floor is a sin. Everytime, at every restaurant we have been to here they grab another chair for my pocketbook to sit on before I even get a chance to throw it on the ground. Then there were prostitutes on the main street on the way home. I didn’t expect clean-cut, conservative, much too normal Brasilia to have such things as prostitutes. It has been an interesting experience. We don’t really know how else to describe it than – it’s just been fast, and weird. And really weird.
Today I had an appointment with the head of the housing department of the US embassy on the grass outside because my passport had needed to be turned in the day before in order for me to have been able to get past the security gates. Talk about strict.
The front desk people at the hotel here are great. They helped us in many ways and, one of the guys is going to make a point to buy a local fruit for me at the market tomorrow so I can try it. I think he likes me. He seems to have a really great personality and he’s always smiling. If only I had more time!
We hired a translator yesterday and he was a nice guy but he liked to be way too specific. Like, oh I don’t want to call this number, it’s too far from the hotel. Everytime I wanted to say but that DOESN’T MATTER!! As long as it’s in Brasilia it’s FINE! He didn’t understand what we were doing. Not that I really expect anyone to, but it’s frustrating when you want to say – no; no questions, just do it! And he knew everyone in the whole damn city which also made it difficult because he constantly wanted to call friends to ask them the answer – but we can’t use that info because we won’t have a contact to check up on the information next time because it was a personal call…
Tomorrow I am going back to a store I really wanted to check out in the mall. It is called Farm, and the clothing there seems just amazing, gorgeous patterns. I really can’t wait. The malls are great but they have all mostly high-end local brands, which makes it more difficult for survey.
Anyways… moving on from the bad stuff, I’m a little excited about being on my own, although all in all I had a great time with both Joe and Patrick and now I’m on my own for the next 2.5 weeks. I think that it will be fun though, I haven’t been on my own for this short of a time on survey… ever.
Tonight at dinner, I ate a very interesting dish of banana, potatoes, gruyere cheese and fish. It sure was an interesting combination – it wasn’t too bad either. The menus here (unless you are at a hotel) are completely in Portuguese so Patrick and I did a lot of picking entrees blindly. I think maybe they think having your handbag on the floor is a sin. Everytime, at every restaurant we have been to here they grab another chair for my pocketbook to sit on before I even get a chance to throw it on the ground. Then there were prostitutes on the main street on the way home. I didn’t expect clean-cut, conservative, much too normal Brasilia to have such things as prostitutes. It has been an interesting experience. We don’t really know how else to describe it than – it’s just been fast, and weird. And really weird.
Today I had an appointment with the head of the housing department of the US embassy on the grass outside because my passport had needed to be turned in the day before in order for me to have been able to get past the security gates. Talk about strict.
The front desk people at the hotel here are great. They helped us in many ways and, one of the guys is going to make a point to buy a local fruit for me at the market tomorrow so I can try it. I think he likes me. He seems to have a really great personality and he’s always smiling. If only I had more time!
We hired a translator yesterday and he was a nice guy but he liked to be way too specific. Like, oh I don’t want to call this number, it’s too far from the hotel. Everytime I wanted to say but that DOESN’T MATTER!! As long as it’s in Brasilia it’s FINE! He didn’t understand what we were doing. Not that I really expect anyone to, but it’s frustrating when you want to say – no; no questions, just do it! And he knew everyone in the whole damn city which also made it difficult because he constantly wanted to call friends to ask them the answer – but we can’t use that info because we won’t have a contact to check up on the information next time because it was a personal call…
Tomorrow I am going back to a store I really wanted to check out in the mall. It is called Farm, and the clothing there seems just amazing, gorgeous patterns. I really can’t wait. The malls are great but they have all mostly high-end local brands, which makes it more difficult for survey.
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