Saturday, October 31, 2009-Halloween Day 7
We wake up for our last full day in Haiti. Knowing we have lots to do, we get right to work, allowing more time for us to drive around and see the country since we were not tied down to the clinic for the day. We clean the rooms, dusting, sweeping, mopping and organizing everything we were leaving. Running around like this proved to be very tiring, especially with no electricity to cool us off in any fashion. Instead, to get any wind, we had to run around, feeling the breeze blow by us, which eventually made us even sweatier. We did this until we heard that breakfast was waiting for us.
We went down to collect on our usual helpings of eggs and avocados. While we younger ones were always first to eat, we finished before Mr. Beauregard and Mr. Valentine had even reached the table. We got out our trusty pack of cards and dealt a few games out to entertain us until it was time to leave.
They informed us that we were going to be going to a river that was fun to dig a hole in, then just sit and let the current sweep over your body. We all changed into swimming attire and feel comfortable for the occasion. We then all marched to the car, excited for the days adventure.
We took out shortly after, driving what seemed like forever, until finally, we came to what was the river. To me, it looked like a rock quarry. Rocks were covering every square inch of the river, and the sides. I am used to rivers being surrounded by trees, mud and dirt, and an occasional rock. This, however, was nothing the same. Huge rocks, small rocks, and only rocks were present. The road turned into these rocks and we continued to drive. There is no chance that I would ever take my car over these rocks, but in Haiti, it wasn’t even a thought to NOT keep going. Then, the road turned into a rushing river. Think it stopped us? Once again, not a chance. We pounded through it as I remembered playing Oregon Trail when I was little. I just felt like one of those wagons and was just waiting for us to sink or flip. While nothing scary like that happened, we made it across and parked the car. We all got out excited to swim, but devastated at what we saw. Everyone in Haiti was here bathing, going to the bathroom, and washing their clothes. The river had many uses in Haiti. There were people everywhere, doing all sorts of different things and wearing all different sorts of things. People in hats, shorts, jeans, shirts and even wearing nothing. It was like an X rated river, but no one in Haiti noticed or cared. Their culture does not make things like this sexual like the states does. A woman can walk around topless there and no one thinks a thing of it. Little boys were darting in and out of every bend of the river, not even worried that their man-hood was flapping around in the wind. It is NATURAL there! Was it weird for me? Of course, but you eventually get over it and go on with life. I can guarantee it wasn’t anyone who would be posing in PLAYBOY or anything like that anyways.
We kept walking down stream until we came to a part that seemed tame enough for us to be without attracting all the attention. Stripped down to our suits and jumped in. The water was nipping out our legs, as it seemed so cold. This was only because it was so hot outside that the water was so refreshing and chilly. Doing what we told was fun, we tried to sit down and let the water flush over our skin, however, the current was so strong, there was no way this was going to be possible. We were being forced downstream. So, to enjoy what we heard was amazing, we each found a larger rock, straddled it so that the water was pushing it into us, and sat there. This was the only way to not be moved by the current. We sat in this position for quite some time, enjoying the sun beating down on us, yet, still feeling very chilly from the water. It was a very peaceful way to spend my Saturday morning after a stressful week of working in the harsh heat of Haiti.
After we had enough, we got out and carried our stuff to the car where Mr. Valentine was waiting for us. We marched over these rocks in flip-flops, dodging the piles of feces that the little children had left behind. It was like walking on a minefield in Iraq. One wrong step and you would wish you had watched where you were walking. When we finally made it back to the car, we were all totally dry, slipped back into our clothes and took out for lunch back at the clinic.
On the way back, we had to stop at the market to pick up some plantains. Now when this happens, we were always told, “just wait here about 15 minutes and we will be right back.” We eventually learned this was never true, but we would just wait. Like we had really any other choice. While sitting in the car, I would always watch the thousands of people walking by and staring at me as they passed. Then, one man passed by and had a shirt on that really caught my eye. It was an Amish buggy with “AMISH COUNTRY” written above it. Below the buggy “SUGARCREEK, OHIO” read in big bold letters. Alicia and I, the two Mennonites on the trip, shared a nice laugh about that.
When we got back to the clinic, we napped for a bit while the cook was preparing the food we brought back, but we ate as fast as we could to get back out on the roads. We had plans of going to a waterfall that was supposed to be very pretty. Only problem was, we had no idea where to go.
As we took out, we decided to go ask someone for directions. We headed straight for downtown Jacmel, but no one seemed to know where it was. Finally, we stopped on the side of the road at a house with a boy outside. He claimed to know, but instead of telling us, he just got in and said he needed to take a bath anyways, so he would come along. From the sounds of the Creole in the argument, his family didn’t like the idea, but we set out. He led us through town, across two rivers full of bathing people, through plantain fields and seemed to be a little lost. Finally, he knew where he was and took us on back roads. The sign said we were going to have to hike 5 kilometers one way, which, wearing my flip-flops, I was not impressed. I would have rather just gone back to the internet café and GOOGLED it. However, Valentine just kept on driving.
This road proved to be the bumpiest, most chopped up road I had ever been on. The top of my head eventually became well acquainted with the top on the car, and my bald spot started growing as my hair was getting wiped away from the cloth on the ceiling. After passing through many people making their way to Jacmel with their jugs balanced on their head, we can to a place up the mountain with a “$10 parking” sign painted on a wall. We were instructed to park the car and get out, as we could drive no further. We were told we had to walk fifteen minutes, as the tour guide came out with a long rope. “We need this to repel down some steep rocks, but it isn’t dangerous,” he informed us as he started down the rocky trail. We followed along as they were being as kind as possible, trying to get the largest tip possible for taking us. We past many brilliant views, jumped through rivers and climbed over rocks. We made jokes that this had better not be a little trickle. They informed us there were three basins, 17 foot-deep, 52 foot-deep, and 75 foot-deep, in which we could dive into any of them off the fall. We passed the first two, seeing nothing too special. We then, waited in line, forced to take off our shoes, and one by one repelled down this rock form soaked in water. Don’t worry, we were all harassed in and very well protected. Right! This proved to be not that dangerous as I could have done it alone without the rope, but safety first. As we got to the bottom and looked around the corner, we could see the deep basin and hear the splash from the waterfall. We all put all out stuff down, gave the guides our cameras and jumped in, swimming around the rocks to reveal the site. It was amazing. While it was not the sweetest fall I had ever seen, it still was very attractive, and secluded. No one but ourselves were there.
Right away, the tour guides (5 of them I think) swam to the falls and started scaling the rocks. I jumped in and just followed them, not sharing any signs of fear. That was about the last moment when I showed no signs of fear. They all went into the falls, and started climbing the rocks with the water pouring in their faces, but had no difficulties getting to the upper rocks. (There were three levels to jump from: about 8 feet, about 20 feet and about 50 feet) For them, it was second nature. For me, it was hell to look down, as I have only gone off a 2 foot diving board before. Looking down and seeing little people really set your eyes into focus of how high you really are, even though it doesn’t look it from down below.
I was helped up the waterfall, to the second tier then told myself, “I’m going to the top. I am not a sissy.” Two minutes later I was telling myself, “I’m going down, I am a big sissy,” but didn’t care as I climbed down to the middle one. This still was a little higher than I was comfortable, but took the plunge and took a leap of faith that there was nothing under that surface of water. I tucked my head, said a short prayer and, “SPLASH!” I was submerged into the murky water. However, I came up with a smile on my face, and swam right back for more.
I continued to dive off of this one for a while, until my heart said, “Go higher.” The Haitian men accompanied me to the top. I let them jump first, showing me specifically where to land. I aimed at my target, kept my eye on it and took off. When I jumped to the edge and got ready to jump off, my heart jumped even more and I couldn’t do it. I almost fell in as my forward velocity was carrying me over. Keeping my feet still on the soaked rocks was very hard, but I did it. Otherwise I would have landed on the cliff-like rocks that I was required to jump out and over to be certain I would hit the water. I was terrified. I caught my composure, stepped back again and went for it. It seemed like forever that I was falling and wanted to see every second of my daring jump that no one else in the group would do. However, at the last second, I forgot to tuck my head into the dive. I smacked my face right on the water, throwing my head back into my back and pushing every muscle in my face straight into my skull. It was the weirdest feeling I have ever felt in my face. I came up out of the water with a smile on my face, but knew I wasn’t going to go back up there again. My diving career was over.
Since no one else was doing anything, we decided to head back to the car, and take off for home. By this time it was getting fairly late. As we headed back, we had to climb the mountain instead of hike down it. In wet flip-flops, this was very hard. I braved the harsh, rugged cliffs and took off my shoes and hiked it barefoot, just praying I didn’t cut anything and catch a vicious infection. My prayer was answered as we got back to the car safe and sound.
We made the journey back to Jacmel, dropped the boy off and thanked him for his duties, then returned to the clinic. There we were met with a quick meal and a quick shower before we once again dashed off to the beach for a huge concert. As we sat at the concert and waited for about what seemed like 3 hours, the band we came to see still wasn’t there and we were tired of sitting around. The next day was the day to travel home, so we decided to get back and get some rest.
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