Trouble in Paradise

28th November

Trouble in paradise

Haiti is everything I expected and more. Flying in this morning I was sat about as far from the window as it was possible to do and I was straining my neck to get a glimpse. We flew in from the east over the stunning bay de la Gonave, and at first sight this is a tropical paradise. Crystal blue waters, gentle surf on White beaches edging the grand curve of Haiti's two peninsulas, all set against the backdrop of mountains which rise into the clouds. It's stunning. 

As you get closer the detail starts to stand out; a port, buildings, corrugated iron roofs, a town of tents. White swathes in the mountains where there have been rockfalls, more tents but not real tents, make shift ones made out of material that looks like giant modern sacking strung over wooden poles. Paradise is dirty. Noisy too and hot. 

The airport was like no other I have ever been through; from even before customs the noise is at full volume- musicians, officials and people wanting to carry your bags, I was exceedingly glad to be part of a group, to follow someone else's lead. It's intense - I'm used to being pestered for tips and being offered help I don't want but this is on a whole new level. One guy wants to find my bag off the carousel even though he can have no idea what it looks like. It's carnage; bags are piling up everywhere - mine appear to be with a pile of other people's things and I have to wade in to retrieve it and everywhere there are people trying to take my bags off me.  They're  not trying to steal them, just help me so I can pay them. One guy insists on pushing the trolley with Andy, the camera man, and we cant work out how to tell him we don't need him. He's determined to earn some money. 

In the chaos of all this it would be easy to lose someone and there's almost a temptation to bark at everyone to back off and leave us alone, but it doesn't seem right, these men are the lucky ones; the ones with the official name badges that grant them the right to hassle me for my bags, the right to a tip, the right to earn some money to take home to the family. So it's good to meet Edner and Ricot our Compassion staff and tour guides and get ourselves safely on a bus and let them take over the bartering. 

Driving to our hotel is amazing and part of me starts to really buzz with the sights and sounds that assail us from every side. The traffic is horrendous, the roads terrible and everywhere there are brightly coloured taxis overladen with people, honking their horns and trying to push their way through the mayhem.  Lots of the taxis have the words 'merci Jesus' written above their windscreen. I wonder if this is brand name or a permanent attitude of thanks that they are still in one piece. 

The streets are lined with people trying to sell sugar cane or papaya, clothes and car chargers for iPhones. It reminds me so much of the back streets of Mombassa, the chaos, the potholes, the glorious colours, the iffy smells. 

As we push our way along the road and navigate around piles of rubble, I peek into buildings and see dirt floors, look up side roads filled with rubbish and look at buildings in disrepair. There are more and more tent villages. Villages is a misleading word. Tent slums would be nearer the mark. From my air-conditioned bus I wonder how high the temperature rises in the middle of the day under canvas - it must become unbearable. 

But in the midst of this there are kids in smart school uniforms holding hands and walking with purpose. There are people generating business out of the things that they can provide. You could call them hawkers but you could also call them entrepreneurs. Abbey asks Ricot why the are so many people on the street - where are they going? He explains that they aren't going anywhere, just looking for an opportunity, food, a job, someone to meet. And even here I see hope. 

Because, although this is a life I cant imagine, although there is poverty in every direction, there is not despair. Instead there is hope, there is purpose. These people have not given up - they are still searching, they're not resigned to their fate, believing it can't change. In fact I saw a slogan written bold on a building which said 'every situation can change' . I loved that. That's hope on a wall for everyone to see.