Haitian Tap-taps, Life's Tolls (Video)
Posted by shawn alexander on Fri, Feb 26, 2010 @ 06:02 AM
On the way to St. Etienne which is located high in the mountains, our truck had a flat tire. Unfortunately, we did not have a spare, so we elevated the truck to remove the flat but then required a large rock to staialize it. A 23 year old man, living in the area offered to locate one for us. He went around the bend and returned 10 minutes later with a large mud caked one on his shoulder. Sliding on the dirt under the truck, he placed the rock below the axle. Once positioned, he jumped up and walked up a steep path to his mountain home. Not at all an isolated incident in Haiti. Strangers are easily and willing to help. A systemic characteristic of Haiti is community.
So the dilema was now how to get to St. Etienne. Jeff, Fondespwa's Director and I, decided to take a taxi motorcycle which is a common form of transportation. So what's the big deal about this? It is, because Evel Knievel learned his trade here. In prior blogs, I have shared the Indianapolis 500 style car driving so prevelant here. Well, the motorcycle drivers are certainly not to be outdone. Think of dirt motocross and you get the picture. They can't go too fast over bumps as they seem to exhilarate floating in a jet stream, playing chicken with on coming trucks and a corner is not taken properly unless his knee lightly caresses the road. If only he wasn't going 75 miles an hour, I would have been fine. But that, is another not so good story.
After our meetings with the mountain women, we took a ride back down, however, this time it was enjoyable. As we were going down the mountain, the motor was off and for 15 minutes we simply glided while feeling the cool breeze and looking out onto the Carribean ocean with it's gorgeous views.
Once we reached our destination, we got into a Tap-Tap. These are basically, privately owned local transportation, usually a pick up truck with a top on the back. Most are splendidly painted externally with a myriad of colors and designs with primarily religious slogans. Inside, are benches or wooden planks that stick out into the open air to accomodate more customers. On the roof, is stored the luggage upon which customers sit, in addition to some clinging to the sides.
We got on a packed truck at 1 in the afternoon and in no time one was overcome with the scent of sweat, hot air blowing, 95 degree heat, plus inhaling the black smoke from a cement truck in front of us. I sat between a 13 year old girl and a 67 year old woman, as we rode together for about 30 minutes. The young girl had on a shiny red blouse, relatively new blue jeans with seguined sandals topped by a large glass jewel. Her hair were in corn rows with multiple colored ribbons. As she smiled and giggled with her younger sister, her teeth gleemed sparkling white. To my right was the elderly woman, dressed in a dirty frayed denium skirt, and a sweat matted top ripped under the arms. On her feet, were faded, mud caked and ripped grayish crocs. Her nails were dirty and covering her stringy damp hair was an old red paisley bandana. She had yellowish and blackened teeth on the sides and missing in front. For most of the trip she dozed in and out, exhausted from plying her trade in the open market hoping to earn a few dollars for her family. When they reached their destination, the girl jumped off the Tap-tap and walked cheerfully away holding her sister's hand in one hand and a small plastic yellow purse in the other. The woman also got off, looked up and received a large worn brown duffle bag like item overflowing with clothes and vegetables which two men placed on her head and walked solemnly away up a hill, to what was left of her home.
It was 1:30 in the afternoon, one was looking forward to the rest of the day while the other was already worn down by it. In Haiti, in no time, the young girl will begin to become that woman.
