First Impression...

If anything was eye-opening to me, it was my first experiences in Haiti. Even flying over before we landed, you fly over the slums and you see just how little people really do have, and how the conditions are so different from where we live. When we landed, I can only describe the airport as modest and simple. We were greeted by a band playing lively music, white walls, plain tiles. No McDonalds, no Starbucks, nothing but a sign pointing to Immigration. (It was kind of nice being able to find my way around that easily!) As soon as I had my luggage, which was chaotic in itself, I left the secure area and was just bombarded. The first feeling was how badly I stuck out, being a minority had never been an issue and now my white skin was like a neon sign saying STARE AT ME. I was consumed by people asking if I needed help with my bags, if I needed a taxi, jabbering at me in creole which I don't understand. I stepped outside the airport and wished I hadn't. There were people everywhere and everyone was trying to get me to go with them, and I was afraid I wasn't going to find the GLA rep. Luckily, he found me, I guess he picked my confused face out of the crowd. We got in the vehicle that would get us to the orphanage, and I was struck by my surroundings. Now, I am going to attempt to describe what cannot be described, and to paint a picture of a street that you can't fully comprehend until you have walked there. The lush, exotic and green vegetation is interrupted by vibrantly colored, but not altogether architecturally sound shops. Concrete walls line most roads, covered in graffiti and littered with so much garbage. The bulding are so different from what you see here. Some are concrete, some are merely a stone wall covered with a tarp held up by sticks. Animals roamed at free will. And people! People are everywhere... in shops, outside walking, outside along the road selling whatever they can to make a living. They jump onto moving openbacked vans crammed with twelve people already. Moped weave in and out of traffic very dangerously. Driving in Haiti was perilous. The streets are very narrow and busy, and road rules are not considered. The road to the orphanage is especially steep and narrow, with a view of the mountainside stacked with small, snugly fit together houses.

Everything was in disrepair, covered with garbage, or in shambles, but even so, I found it breathtakingly beautiful.