The journey began one bright Thursday morning in a little town called
Montrouis, located on the west side of the small island of Haiti.
Four brave souls set off early on an adventure to deliver gifts from the
King to his children in Cap-Haitien…which is a (normally) five hour car
ride.
Paul, Jami, Love, and Shane
traveled to the crossroads where they would not sell their souls to the Devil
to be masters of the Blues, but to find a northern bound tap-tap to hop aboard
to travel to the great northern city.
The small band did not have to wait long before their first craft
approached. It came to a halt at which
time our group boarded…the journey had started.
The ride in the open air vehicle
was a relief from the approaching heat that is so familiar to Haiti. The truck went to and fro on the winding road
and stopped here and there to drop off or to pick up new passengers. After about a forty-five minute ride we
arrived at our first station, St. Marc.
This was the first great city on our way north. We had to switch vehicles as our current
transport was turning around to head the way we had just come. Our interpreter did a marvelous job at
securing us some new, two wheeled,
vehicles to bring us around the wrecked vehicles that were preventing bigger
four-wheeled (or more) vehicles from passing. In and
out we zoomed through traffic with our three packages fastened (not so
securely) between our moto driver’s arms as he brought us to the next tap-tap
station.
Again, we boarded another
tap-tap. However, this one wasn’t a
little pickup truck with a cover, this one was a van. We once again headed north passing the
gigantic twenty-five foot tall garbage pile that was obviously overflowing out
of the landfill. Not too much farther
and another road block stood in our way.
This time it was a broken down bus.
We paid our driver and headed north on foot…around the bus we went and
to another open air tap-tap we embarked upon to the next city which we were
told would have a nice air conditioned
bus to take us to the great northern city of Cap-Haitien. We arrived in Gonaives about
an hour later where our grandiose transport was supposed to be waiting…it
wasn’t there. All that was available to
bring us the remaining four(ish) hours to Cap-Haitien was another very cramped,
very hot and sweaty tap-tap. But, being
on the King’s business we had no choice but to accept the cramped quarters and
head up the mountains on a tap-tap.
The four of us began our decent
up the mountains tucked in the back like Sardines in a can. The truck zoomed its way through the city and
wound its way around the switchback road that lead to our destination. Stomachs churned and sweat poured as our ride
continued. We rounded a curve and then another and another and another…around
the mountain we kept on going until we ran into our third and definitely the
worst road block yet. A semi-truck had
fallen half off the mountains side where it conveniently blocked another semi
from getting around it. Traffic had
backed up on either side of the one lane, curvy, mountain road. School buses and semi-trucks were at head to
head standoffs. Cars were tucked neatly
behind these beasts making it almost impossible for any vehicles to back up and
get out of the way to make a clear path for one lane of traffic to get
through. But after a couple hours of
Haitian planning, some yelling, moving cars by hand, and other non-traditional
ways of unblocking a road we made it through.
Our tap-tap driver wasted no
time on zipping through the traffic and bringing us safely (we weren’t too sure
at times) to our destination in Cap-Haitien.
Once we arrived, another short moto ride brought us to our final
destination where the King’s children were awaiting eagerly.
We delivered the packages which
contained toy cars, dolls, basketballs, soccer balls, bubbles, shoes, clothes,
household decorations, peanut butter, and other wonderful treats. Paul, our craftsman, was able to build three
tables for the kids and their caretakers while we were there.
Not even two days after arriving
in Cap-Haitien we had to leave. However,
this time we traveled home on an air conditioned bus knowing that we had
accomplished our mission of delivering the supplies. We left with happy and satisfied hearts
knowing we had created some happy hearts.
So the moral of this story and
my latest adventure is: the king’s business is always worth it in the end…no
matter what kind of rough adventures the road takes you on, the end product of
serving the King is a joyful heart and (in this case) some happy children. So serve the King well fellow soldiers.
