After surviving an overnight flight and long morning of sleeping on the infamously freezing floor of the Miami airport, we (Kendall Dunnigan, Brock Dolman and Sashwa Burrous) arrived in the late afternoon to the warm and welcoming sounds of Haitian music pouring out of the little Port-au-Prince (PAP) airport.
Sasha Kramer from SOIL picked us up in the “basset mobile” (unfortunately, her sweet puppy was not along for the ride) and drove us through the bustling Friday afternoon streets of PAP to Rita’s Guesthouse.
Beautifully painted tap-taps (truck taxis called tap taps because you knock on the inside when you want to get out) honked and weaved through traffic. Women with baskets of goods for sale lined each street.
As night fell, dozens of people gathered in the corner playground to eat, drink, and exercise on a variety of exercise machines. We were struck by the sense of calm, generosity, and safety that we were greeted with, a striking difference from the Port-au-Prince portrayed in the US media.
