Anal Atresia: Felony

The morning came just as early as every other morning seems to in Haiti.  The sun is not yet up.  Joel is clanking buckets down to the canal to fetch some water.  Goats, roosters, and dogs are all in the midst of some hot debate #OldMacDonaldNeverSlept.  See post 'Insomnia' and then know that the previous night's sleep was pretty bad.  Maybe I subconsciously knew I would be falsifying government documents, committing identity fraud, and bribing public officials that day.

John was coming early in the morning so we could go back to Port au Prince.  It had to be done.  And it may have to be done daily until I leave so we can progress towards this passport and medical VISA.  "I can.  I will. I must.  Regardless of the odds, get the job done" #BigAlQuotes.  He showed up a little after 8 am.  I had time to get my surveying team off in the right direction with the hope that they'd be able to continue my work.  I miss having productive interviews with people.  John and I walked out of the compound and hailed a pair of motos.  After waiting for twenty minutes for the mother, father, and girl of the hour we were finally PAP bound.

Since I had just completed this leg the day prior I had a good feel for how everything would go.  We'd take a tap tap from St. Medard to Cabaret.  We'd switch until we got to someplace in PAP.  Then we'd switch to take a tap tap to Crois des Bouquets or some other town and then one to CDB depending on what we found.  Piece of cake right?  There are no maps.  The only information you have to go by are the dudes waving people into the tap tap and repeating the destination.  They all have their own timing and rhythm.  Picture them like the 'stadium beer men' of the transportation world.

There wasn't a lot of traffic this early in the morning.  Most of the shuttles were large buses, which John informed me were going to a different station in PAP than we needed to go to.  Not sure how he knew or if that information was accurate, but I assumed that to be true.  It isn't a very easy to navigate system.  The first tap tap to Cabaret filled up quickly, but the driver and the herder saw I was white and immediately found room for the 4 of us.  Mom, dad and baby sat shotty with the driver.  John and I had the luxury of sitting on top of the tap tap.

Was it safe?  No.  Is riding in a tap tap safe?  No.  If I'm going down in a blazing tap tap crash then I at least want to be able to see things transpire.  And who knows, maybe I would be better off flying away from the crash instead of being smashed inside.  Another revelation.  Is it just me or would the 'Tap Tap' 4D ride at Universal Studios be the best ride that gave everyone a migraine headache?  Imagine if you will.  You're sitting on a rock hard, wooden bench.  You have fifteen other, sweaty bodies crammed up against you.  The terrible Haitian rap music is blaring over the sub-woofer such that you cannot hear yourself think.  The driver swerves and slams on his breaks seemingly at random in order to keep people guessing.  And for good measure you get blasted with a horn or a face full of exhaust every now and then.  Super realistic.  Definitely an adventure.  And think if they made video games where you were the tap tap driver having to pick up fares and dodge traffic.  How popular would that be!?  #Awesome

FWIW riding on the top of the tap tap may be the best idea I've had this entire trip.  You have leg room.  You have fresh air.  And other than the fact that you have a great view of every close call on your way you can relax up there and enjoy the wind whipping through your hair.  And you get to see all sorts of sights that make you understand why trauma is so common.

We arrive at Cabaret.  We arrive at Chada, which apparently is the center of PAP (Who knew?).  And then I find us a comfy tap tap ride to Crois des Bouquets.  One problem.  I don't recognize any of the buildings where they dropped us off at.  Our previous trip we had to take two tap taps from Chada to CDB, but this time we found a straight shot.  Apparently that straight shot ended somewhere other than the street we were on the day before.  John asked for directions. "La" was the response.  "La" can mean 'here', 'there', 'down there', far away or close to you.  It is quite possibly the least helpful word in the language.  But it's still the one everyone uses accompanied by a lot of gesturing.

I get smart.  I bust out my GPS device that I have been using to mark landmarks throughout my trip.  Money.  It leads us right to the back alley.  It's after 11 o'clock.  We left Mission Matana over two hours ago.

The same man came over as soon as he saw us. I introduced the father to him and we made the necessary donations to expedite the filing process.  The husband got his back alley blood test and we were back in business.  I had John ask the man if he knew of where we could get a photo to turn this into a photo ID.  You bet he did.  He took us across a side street and back around some store fronts to a "Photo Digitale" shop hidden behind them.  I'd need photos for each parent and if possible a passport photo for the baby.  Thirty dollars Haitian per person and they'd give me six headshots of each.  Sounds like overkill, but I'll take it.

Time kept moving and we kept sitting.  The photos were taking forever.  At some point I thought that the store was some front for a human trafficking enterprise and my family was in the back of a truck somewhere.  In our down time I made John help me shop some of the local pharmacies.  We need some anti-scabies cream and some stain for our microscope slides.  You'd think we were wanting to buy chemo.  Nobody had heard of the stuff we were asking for.  But, if you need a benzodiazepine or hard core antibiotics like chloramphenicol then you're in luck #SafetyFirst.

It's creeping past noon.  The family finally emerges and I pay for the pictures.  My inside man grabs one each of the male and female to get everything "plastinated".  I tell John to find us some food as I'm sure the family is getting hungry.  They probably didn't eat breakfast and I would be surprised if my translator did.  We find a tent cooking up some rice with sauce and grab a seat.  My stomach yells at me as I agree to buy a plate for myself.  It tastes good.  Let's hope I don't pay for it later.

After we finish our meal I find Samuel, our insider, and he hands over an awesomely bootlegged photo ID for the mom.  Even has a NIF number which I can only assume is the Haitian equivalent of the social security number.  But now we wait for the father's ID.

It's about 1:30 now.  John had said that we needed to meet his cousin by 2:30 if we wanted to get the Archived Birth Certificate today.  And by Archived Birth Certificate I mean whatever these people think is the Archived Birth Certificate because I haven't found any consistency when it comes to describing it.

I pull the trigger.  "John, I need to you go get the process started on the Archived Birth Certificate.  I'll wait here until the other ID gets made and then meet you in Chada."  He didn't want to.  And I didn't really want to put that kind of responsibility on him.  He tends to fold like a lawn chair.  But we can't keep making trip after trip to PAP.  My psyche can't take it #Exhausting.  He goes.  I'm translator-less.  Minutes tick away into hours and I haven't seen Samuel.  I pace.  The sun is beating down.  The family is tucked away in the shade by the back alley blood test shop.  I decide to roll up my sleeves and work on my tan #StillPasty.

It's almost four o'clock.  I call John.  He said he started the process and it'll only cost us like $400 Haitian dollars.  He paid in advance.  Of course he did...  I tell him to wait at Chada for us.  We'll figure out how to get there.


Finally Samuel emerges with the photo ID for the dad.  Don't pay attention to the fact that the photo is skewed or that over half of the lines aren't filled out. I'm sure hoping that all the government officials I'll be talking to don't pay attention to that either.

We left Crois de Bouquets.  We hopped in a tap tap and clunked along another crappy road.  My abductors have never gotten the kind of workout as when I've been fighting for every centimeter of leg room.  It's a battle and I'm totally unprepared.  I always assumed that everyone was as squished as me in the back of the tap tap.  It wasn't until a fortuitous near miss caused the tap tap driver to slam on the breaks.  All of a sudden the six, skinny older ladies sitting to my left went sliding towards the front of the tap tap.  I found myself with an extra six inches of butt room on the bench.  Those sly old ladies.  Holding out on me this whole time.

Police gathering outside the government building

We made it to Chada and found John.  He informs me that we need to come back Monday with a medical paper saying she needs the surgery so they can move quicker.  Great.  The tap tap ride back to Cabaret was uneventful.  I was sitting next to a young boy so I opted to share my head phones.  He loved it so much he asked if he could have it #Standard.

For the last leg of the ride John and I opted to sit on top of the tap tap again.  I needed some space.  The back to back grind of traveling all the way to PAP was wearing on me.  And coupled with the frustrations I had with John's inability to cost control.  He may be the only Haitian who will end up paying more for a good or service than me.  I joked with Mike that someone could sell him a $5 bill for $20.  The streets of Haiti are filled with hustlers and John, unfortunately, makes for an easy mark.

I give the mom and dad 30 Gourdes to pay for their moto ride back home while John and I head back to the compound.  My surveyors have also returned.  They look as tired as I feel.  It's pay day for everyone and everyone has worked hard for me.  And with all of my surveys I've come to the conclusion that the Puritan work ethic is not inherent to their culture.  I've been lucky that God has led me to these kids.  They're effort is worth every penny that I've paid, and probably more.  The day is done.  Work is finished for now.  I will start again on Monday by returning to PAP.  I don't know where I have to go and I don't know what I'll have to do, but I do know that God will provide guidance.