After the debacle the previous night, I was the target of much good-natured ribbing. "Oh, crap" was now my tag-line. I was VERY tired and we were headed out on a long bus ride the the Far West as it is called. The Far West was about 3 hours away (only 25 miles or so). It was located at the Baie de Moustiques (Bay of Mosquitos) near a tiny hamlet named, as near as I can figure, Ti Charles. Breakfast was sub-par that day, a rubbery pancake and poor bacon. I actually fit a little queasy shortly after getting underway. The constant bouncing, poor breakfast, and no sleep, I'm sure. God heard my prayer and shortly after felt better. I was fine the rest of the day. Danielle and Ryan didn't feel well either but both were troopers and ended up OK.
The trip to "the Bay" was very memorable. After we passed Port de Paix (about 1.5 hours) we came to the west edge of the city. It was continuosly residential from the mission all the way into Port de Paix. The city was hustling commotion, noise, and smells such as the ever present smoke, vehicle fumes, rot, and sweat. After the city we came to a very wide and apparently shallow river, Trois Rivieres. I say apparently shallow because we drove the bus across the entire width of the river. Never had I experienced anything like that before! There is no bridge in sight so I guess that's the way it's done in Haiti.
What was amazing is how rapidly the climate changed after crossing Trois Rivieres. Almost immediately it became much more sparse: few trees, fewer homes, and very soon cactus became a common sight. This is only 12-14 miles from the virtual rainforest found at St. Louis du Nord! It was like having Louisiana and Arizona 12 miles apart. Crazy.
The road was by now much less travelled by vehicle and still heavily travelled by foot. Lots of peasants walking and women going to and from market on donkeys, laden down with their wares, be it food, utensils, or charcoal. The remaining 1.5 hour ride took us about 10 miles into what could only be described as desert. Hundreds of cactus, mostly organ-pipe, plots of spindly corn here and there, the occasion group of palm trees, a few cows and goats grazing about, and most notably, an even greater level of poverty. Looked exactly like Africa. Many of the houses were mud huts sparsely scattered amongst de-nuded hills and mountains. The people looked even poorer and that was hard to believe.
We arrived as Miss Pat's house (the 77 yr old missionary who lived at the Bay) around 11:30. Curtis and Danielle Rogers are having there house built next door to Miss Pat. It should be done in March. About 2/3 of the cement block was up when we arrived. (sidebar: You don't go to Home Depot and buy block in Haiti. Bags of concrete are mixed in a shallow depression with water and then poured into block molds to set. Very long and tedious process)
The church ( a picture is above) is right at the edge of Ti Charles. Ti Charles looks like a small African bush village of scattered huts, mostly mud and palm tree branch roofs. Some of the better ones had rusted tin roofs. Maybe 400 people. This collection of abject poverty is right on the ocean. The beach was relatively clean and the view was spectacular. Blue water, cliffs on both sides, the west end of Tortuga about 10 miles offshore.
We had lunch of a very tasty fish gumbo after we arrived.
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