To Port Au Prince

We all finally made it to Haiti. It is hot here. We are all squeezed into a shuttle bus to take us to the terminal. We could see big tent cities around the airport as we landed.

It is just good to be here. The morning started off well enough. We all gathered in the Holiday Inn Express breakfast room before 7 am as planned and enjoyed a great breakfast including omlets, biscuits, gravy, and fruit. Good stuff. We were all clean, calm, and smelled good. We were ready for adventure.

We went upstairs to our rooms to collect our 12 big bags of medical supplies. As we began loading up the bags on a hotel cart I began to smell the pungent aroma of methyl methacralate. Majid said he thought it was just the smell of the hotel because he had been smelling it all night in his room where all the big bags were stashed. YUK! The smell just kept getting stronger. Kathy and Kelly started sniffing bags and finally identifed the worst one. We dismantled it, cement pack by cement pack. At last we found the broken bottle and eliminated it. It took us three elevator trips to get all of us and all our luggage out to the front door. The 7:30am courtesy van arrives. There are 22 seats. Our bags completely filled the luggage area. We start to load onto the bus. Out the front door come 16 religous mission volunteers wearing "Blessed 2 Bless" t- shits in bright yellow. 26 people don't fit on a 22 seat bus. They too had 7:30 reservations. General Kathy very straight forwardly tells their leader that since our bags got there first they should bless us and half of them should wait for the next courtesy van. She won. We got to the airport and stood behind 30+ people hoping they'll let our group of 9 people check 12 bags. As we each checked in and had a bag weighed for checking we had to start shuffling stuff from one to another to unweight overweight bags. We had gowns, cement packs, gloves and crutches spread all over the floor in front of the counter while one airline employee after another told us to keep the walkway clear. We got down to the last three bags. The lady at the counter frowned at us, shook her head repeatedly and kept saying"only one checked bag each". Jessica remembered that Jennifer came by red eye early this morning and was on the other side of security waiting for the rest of us. She called Jennifer and she came back out to the check-in counter and checked another bag. We're down to 2 bags of crutches. So we beg. Our counter lady reluctantly agrees to call her supervisor. We get approval for one more bag. We shuffle again getting that one approved bag to that magic 50#. Martha grabs the best cane and declares she needs it to walk. Carlos and I take the rejected bag and drag it over to the nearest trash can. We pull out 9 sets of crutches and two more canes and line them up neatly against the wall. Our actions have been observed by several airport employees. They shake their heads then tell Kathy not to worry because our crutches Will find their way to Haiti.
We are pleased. Carlos and I finally head to the security gate. Majid has been pulled out of the line for closer scrutiny. He has a Paskistini passport. He smiles as we pass him by. He expected this. At the xray conveyor belt my carryon bag stops the line. There is a mysterious square metal box. They ask me about it and even I can't remember what it is. They invite me to join them while they look in my bag. It turns out to be my double 15 color dot dominos. So we start again. Now my backpack stops the conveyor. Another mysterious square box. This time they invite me over to the "special" table where they are searching through Majid's bag. This mysterious box turns out to be my Exogen bone growth stimulator. There are wires, stickers, straps, and GEL! It is a big bottle of gel used on the skin to transfer the sound waves to the non-healing bone. The security guard takes my gel away to a secret room. They are going to "test" it. I stand there and watch another guard remove every item from Majid's bag. They pull out boxes of cereal bars, crackers, underwear and socks. He stands there patiently. I tell them they need to hurry so we don't miss our flight. The guard looks at me very sternly and reminds me that she CANNOT go fast. I am thinking it is really good it is not his bag that smells like methyl methacrylate or poor Majid would be going to that secret room with my gel.
Finally they return my gel. I give Majid a forlorn look and suggest I run down to the end of the terminal and keep the plane from leaving. Our group is all there waiting. So we are running a little late. Good. I relax, buy a mountain dew and stand laughing with my friends. We start loading the plane and I notice that I don't have a seat number. Kathy directs me to the counter and I can tell things don't look good. They start making that dreaded announcement. "we are in an oversold situation". For me to make the plane they need two volunteers. They get one. All of the team has loaded except me. Kathy keeps calling me to see what ia happening. One lady at the gate tries to send me onboard, but the other lady snatches my boarding card out of her hand and they start arguing. It looks bad. The next option is Sunday morning. They go do a head count and come back. One passenger didn't show up. I'm on. I am soooo glad.
I thought the confusion was behind us. We made it to Haiti.
Then we got off the plane. This is when the real chaos began.

The terminal was packed full of missionaries of one type or another. Bags and boxes were coming in and people were grabbing them, throwing them on carts and trying to get out. It was dreadfully hot. It took us 2 hours to find our bags and then each other. Naomi found some Haitian man who said he knew how ro find our driver. We followed him out of the terminal struggling through the crowd. Haitian men kept offering to help us find our driver and gradually it became apparent this was a thriving business and we had just been pulled into it. They had no clue who our driver was. They asked us for his number so they could call him. Finally Carlos and Kathy went looking for oir driver and found him. Our "helpers" asked to be paid about $20 for getting is out the the terminal. Our driver comes around with a big "cattle" truck and all our bags are thrown into the back. Then we climb in. We have picked up 3 more people. There are 15 of us crowded into the back of this truck. Two hours later we have finally arrived. We are here.....Pierre Payen. The adventure goes on.