Public Transportation Success
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I made it to PAP. I rode in the back of the bus, which I was warned not to since every time I would hit a bump I'd go flying. This didn't turn out to be the case, luckily. I paid my 25 gourdes, which I was willing to double since I was essentially taking two people's space with my baggage. A man came back and sat next to me. He said he's a Haitian doctor, who recently lost his job doing mobile clinics with Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF).
MSF had two of their people kidnapped (and returned within days) in Port-au-Prince and now this Haitian doctor doesn't have a job. He told me he was in a meeting on January 12th at the Montana and left at 4:20. Had he left half an hour later, he would've been dead.
Finding any Haitian doctor unemployed seems criminal to me, especially now. Many Haitians responded with free care immediately after the earthquake, but now, months later, are facing massive bills. With billions of dollars donated, who is going to help Haitian institutions pay their bills? If Haiti is supposed to become self sufficient, international NGO's cannot allow these few and small institutions fall apart. Josiane Hudicourt-Barnes was responding early on, even photographing the dead, if I recall correctly from the Corbett List early on post-earthquake. Now, she's facing a big financial problem. The Washington Post is reporting that other clinics are having the same problem as a steady supply of international doctors come in to give necessary care.
The question is: How can Haiti rebuild destroyed institutions and maintain current ones while still accepting international aid, essentially free competition?
Switching back to my day, I arrived in Martissant and hopped on a moto for more than I should've paid, but I just wanted to get out. I'm not too comfortable on the tail end of a motorbike, especially with a huge rucksack between me and the driver. We drove through Chan Mas, which smelled like sewage. With Queens of the Stone Age's "Everybody Knows That You're Insane" stuck in my head, we zig zagged through streets and almost hit a woman who wasn't looking. I swore at her in English, my driver swore at her in Kreyol (all I picked up was "kaka"). I'm glad I went to the bathroom before I left Leogane.
I arrived at Delmas 33 and dropped my stuff. I saw a few people I recognized, but no SOIL folks. I picked up Leslie Desmangles' Faces of the Gods for a few minutes before the heat lulled me into a nap on the tile floor. I awoke a couple hours later to find a certain SOIL person had just pissed on the bathroom floor, trying to use a toilet bag being piloted at the moment. Always a unique experience with a little toilet humor.
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