04-JUL-C-2

 

 OUR ENTRY INTO THE HAITIAN OVERLAND

ON EXIT FROM ELIAS PINA DOMINICAN REPUBLIC,

 AN ALL-DAY WAIT AFTER A MOTORBIKE RIDE ACROSS THE BORDER INTO THE TORPOR AND POVERTY OF B ELLADERE,

AND THEN THE FAILED MISSION TO GET SUV’S TO PICK US UP ON TIME AND THE TUMULTUOUS INTERRUPTION FROM THE FERVOR AND FRENZY OF WORLD CUP “FUTBOL” BEFORE I HIRE A BIG BUS AND WE MAKE A ROUGH TRANSIT BY NIGHT UP THE CENTRAL PLATEAU

 ON OUR TRAVEL ON TO THUMONDE

 IN THE HAITIAN RAINY SEASON CENTRAL PLATEAU

 

July 25, 2004

 

            It has been a tumultuous day—if spending most of it sitting in a torporous wait in the hot sun of the unmistakably Haitian village of Belladere in a futile wait to ge4t the vehicles to transfer us to Thumonde in readiness is a tumult.  I did witness a tumult, and that was a late afternoon furious frenzy of celebration, after the whole of the Haitians in hiding burst out in a fervor and frenzy of World Cup “futbol” ecstasy as Brazil kicked a sudden death overtime field goal to defeat Argentina 3:2  It was a good demonstration of a perfect “opiate of the people” in the middle of a mass of poverty and despair to know that people had clustered around rented ear space within the range of a battery operated radio could care passionately about something there than their own daily desperation.

 

            I crossed the border on the back of a motorbike, ahead of the group who waited behind on the Dominican side of the border in an A/C bus that was a dull time for them also.  I was to intercept the four SUV’s for which we had pre-paid with Del driving them directly over from Port au Prince to arrive at the one hour earlier Haitian hour of ten o’clock AM.  I waited in the sun of the dusty streets of the ruins of this border town of Belladere, and the entire carefully synchronized dance came to futility. I had crossed the border on the back of a motorbike to see if I could get a Haitian vehicle to come over the very rocky and puddle washed out road since it was impossible as well as illegal to get the Dominican bus to go across the border to carry the group and the baggage.  So, I put in a full day, learning mostly about the futbol frenzy and a few things about the Mayor and the local hospital in which I made rounds while waiting. I also joined two of our group to probably have a disaster later—in a street dinner, eaten from a backyard vendor.

 

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