I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little more nervous coming to Haiti this summer, considering the unrest a few weeks ago. Travel to Haiti is one of those trips where, at the best of times, it’s always an exercise in caution, from the time you land at the airport, until the time you leave. The travel advisories this year, though, put a few more knots in my stomach. Mackenzie kept me posted, just about every day, because he was getting notifications from the Government of Canada website! There I was, trying NOT to think about it, and there HE was, excited to finally tell me that the travel advisory was back to, what he described as, the advisory for the “normal chaos” that is Haiti. The teenage brain and the mom brain certainly aren’t wired the same, but I’ve come to realize, at least in this case, that’s a good thing!
All the worrying was put to rest, however, as soon as we saw Karen’s red hair, Luc’s beautiful brown skin, and tall, blonde Beate at the airport in Montreal-it was like a multicultural family reunion, and the butterflies were gone. ?
After four relatively smooth hours in the air, and another hour getting through customs and paying our $10 entry fee, we all met at the baggage carousel, which was much less of a nightmare this year-no struggles at the baggage carousel, because all the bags were piled in a corner by the time we got downstairs, and thank goodness for small miracles-all four of our bags arrived, and all of Karen’s and Beate’s bags arrived, so we quickly joined the crowds of people to wind our way to the final police check to get out of the airport. Phew!
Mackenzie and Luc Montreal airport
This is when things usually get a little trickier-pushing away the many men who want to take your bags to “help” you get to your vehicle. This would be okay at home, but as they say, “Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore!” We always wait for Karen’s nod of approval, before we accept help from anyone, because I’ve discovered over the years that, even though someone may be wearing a uniform and identification tag, it really doesn’t mean they’re official airport employees. So, when “the nod” comes, it’s off through another maze of people and carts, in the stifling heat, to the safety of our van, our driver, and our security.
The drive from Port Au Prince came with the normal honks of horns, traffic tie ups, and an occasional close call, but I’ve realized it has become part of my normal expectation now. It has taken a few years, but I am much more unfazed and relatively unaffected by the things that used to make my heart race and my knuckles white! The only reason I can come up with is that this is now truly a vacation with family, and my heart is full, because I have come home to Haiti!
Driving to HATS
Hugs from Haiti xo ???
~Heather
