Haiti Day 7: On down to Jacmel town

We pack up and say goodbye to the CODEP guesthouse before hopping in the back of another truck with all our stuff.  Once again, we've got great seats to view the countryside as we take off on the mountain roads.  We're heading south to Jacmel (see a map on an earlier post).  Along the way, we stop to see a final CODEP project, this one much further along than the others.  The process of reforestation in this particular area was extremely lush.  Under the tree cover, we also noticed several fish ponds, another CODEP project developed to help provide sustainability and income.  We also saw the homes of many of the Haitian CODEP employees.

Our crew then packed in the seats and back of a pickup truck to travel the final hour or so down to Jacmel (on the southern coast).  As we approach from the mountains, we witness a beautiful view of a town on the water.  It's a much smaller city than Port-Au-Prince and feels a lot more laid back.  I begin to notice that there is much more quake damage in this area than Port-Au-Prince, if not just more concentrated.

We pulled in at Trinity house, a partner of St. Josephs Home for Children, who we visited earlier.  As we pull up, kids are already playing soccer in the road outside.  They all come and greet us one by one, though it's a little obvious they were made to do so :).  Regardless, we feel very welcomed as we put all our stuff in the room we'll be crashing in, take a look around Trinity House, and then head back to our driver for a tour around Jacmel.

Clark is somewhat familiar with the city.  As we drive, he is looking outside for shops and streets worth visiting.  We settle on what looks like an artist alley.  It's pretty quiet and not a whole lot is open.  We visit with a French lady's studio before heading across the street to a hotel for a drink.  We then walk around the town.  I feel very strange.  The city is very quiet and we are continually followed by a few vendors trying to draw us into their stores.  We see quake damage and tent cities, much like the ones in Port-Au-Prince, all over the town.  It becomes obvious to me that the quake has DESTROYED the commerce of this town.  Once a bustling hub for artists and trade, now a city with a lot of tension as it tries to get along as the shell of what it once was.  We make our way to the beach front for another drink and some sugarcane.  It's nice to be able to gaze out over the water, a scene that rarely changes.

Upon returning to Trinity House, we immediately head back out for a nearby swimming hole.  The location is a cove nearby where a bunch of the kids are already swimming.  They love having us in there to throw them around, much like I used to.

We have dinner on our own back at the house, followed by some time to explore and learn a little bit.  The kids that live there are pretty much all ages, up to 21, which is when they graduate (although some that age are still around).  Some of the younger kids from St. Joseph's have also been relocated here as they work to rebuild the Port-Au-Prince site.  Trinity House also functions as a school for the neighborhood kids among many other things as detailed on their site.

That night, we would be graced with a performance by the infamous Resurrection Dance Theater, a group out of St. Joseph's that has toured ALL over the place throughout the years, including places near you in the US this Fall!  Drums carried the dancing as the dancers would come out of the side room to perform their numbers.  We were blown away by the performances: boys with incredible gifts bearing their all.  Each dance told a story of Haiti, from the slave revolt to the modern issues with poverty.  By far the most powerful moment for us was when one of the dancers came running out in a frantic, yet beautiful dance.  He was moving so fast you could hardly realize that he was missing an arm.  His dance carried the weight of his story with a joy of simply being who he is and expressing himself through dance.  The end of the performance featured time for each dancer to show off some moves before they finally got the entire crowd in on the action for a final dance number.

Immediately following the performance, we were led into a side room where all the boys were proudly displaying their artwork.  Through the help of big-time artists who come by to teach, the boys had some amazing pieces and were very adamant salesmen!  I walked around admiring and telling them I wasn't buying until I came across the youngest boy in the room, named Lulu, who stood silently in the corner.  Knowing he probably wasn't getting much business for his pen drawings, I bend over and ask him how much.  "13" he says.  Thinking he meant "goudes (Haitian currency about 40 to the dollar)" and knowing I only had US $1 bills with me, I feel confident in giving up a dollar to pay much more than was expected.  I smile, give him the money and take his drawing, what I see as the countryside post-quake.

As I tell Clark about my purchase he says, "you gave him $1?  I'm pretty sure when he said $13 he meant American dollars!" I was shocked.  Did I seriously just rip off a Haitian orphan?  With the help of interpretation via Clark, I go back to pay a more respectable price to the young kid.

That night, we all bring our beds up to the roof of Trinity House, which provides a gorgeous view of the ocean, mountains, and city down below.  We can hear commotion in tent cities near us.  There is a gentle breeze throughout the night.  A breeze that we can only hope brings some new hope and new life into this town so rocked by disaster.