Where is Port de Paix?

I was asked today, "Where exactly is Port de Paix?" Port de Paix is in northwest Haiti. Click on the map below to see a larger view of the map.

The city of Port de Paix is considered one of the larger cities in Haiti. According to various sources the current population of Port de Paix is around 140,000 people. Port de Paix is a city and the capital of the département of Nord-Ouest in Haïti. According to Wikipedia, "The town was founded in 1665 by French filibusters, driven from Tortuga Island by the British occupiers. In 1679 the town saw the first black slave revolt. The area saw great success during the 19th century but in 1902 the town was almost entirely destroyed by fire, and never attained its former status."

Unlike the capital of Haiti (Port-au-Prince), Port de Paix does not contain many paved roads. The airport on the west side of town is a small, hut-like, building bordering a dirt runway. Despite the town's urbanization and bustling activity, the poverty of Port de Paix is very apparent. I had a chance to visit a local "supermarket." It had many items like toothpaste, soap, household cleaning goods, rice, and a few canned food items. However, noticeably missing from the supermarket's shelves were "fresh" food items. Port de Paix's sewer system runs mostly above-ground along the city's streets. Wandering many of the streets were very skinny and sickly looking dogs which simply broke my heart as a dog lover. Despite my desire to pet the dogs, I was warned many of the dogs carry rabies. Most of the dogs sleep during the day and then wander the streets at night in local gangs fighting other dogs. As I feel asleep, I often heard dogs fighting in the distance.

In the center of the city is a catholic church and convent. The city streets are lined with street-side markets with vendors selling items like tennis shoes, beauty products, CDs, books, and food. Around 5:30am the streets of Port de Paix begin to bustle with activity. Large dump trucks, motor-scooters, and mules are the preferred methods of travel. Cars are not as common and are reserved for the wealthy and private (taxi) drivers. "The people of Haiti call their forms of public taxis a "tap-tap" and they're often modified trucks or vans, usually with a raised wooden canopy-like cabin over the truck bed. Wood benches are attached to the bed and serve as seats. Tap-Taps are usually painted bright colors, and often bear a religious slogan, such as Jesus vous aime (Jesus loves you)."

There are two major roads that exit Port de Paix; one in the west and one to the south. Both are not paved and could best be described as "backroads." The west road leading out of Port de Paix has been destroyed by a large river flowing into the ocean. The government of Haiti has been promising the citizens of Port de Paix for three years to build a bridge but there is no sign of progress. For vehicles and people wishing to use the west road they must either drive through the river (it is very deep), wade through by mule or foot, or take a water taxi (canoe). When we traveled out of Port de Paix on the west road we drove through the water (see the video below in the blog).

Despite Port de Paix's depressed infrastructure, I felt very comfortable and safe to move about the city. I walked through many of the city's streets and the people of Port de Paix were very gracious and welcoming. Traveling by car was always an adventure. The typical Haitian driver drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on the horn. My wife can never pick on me again for honking the horn on LA freeways--Horn honking in Haiti is an art and necessary for survival on the chaotic streets.

Complete Album of Haiti Photos

To view all of my photos, please see the following link:

HAITI PHOTOS

More Pictures . . .

Saint Jacques Morne Rosette

About 15 miles outside of Port de Paix sits a small Episcopal church and school; Saint Jacques Morne Rosette. However, traveling 15 miles on the roads of Haiti is no small feat. These unpaved roads have suffered under years of neglect and repeated damage from flooding. Our 15 mile trip took well of over an hour and included crossing five rivers/streams and navigating some nearly impassable trenches and cliff sides. While in route, we passed numerous Haitians traveling by mule and on-foot. Pickup trucks stuffed with 20+ passengers sitting in the truck bed gingerly navigated the treacherous roads to Port de Paix.

The church and school at Rosette was a stark contrast to Holy Innocents In Port de Paix. As we drove up to the site the buildings were noticeably damaged from the outside. Many of the tin roof panels had been dislodged by the recent hurricanes and large holes dotted the facade. The interior of the classrooms were no better than the outside. Students sat in small, dark, and dirty classrooms. Two of the classrooms were sitting silently without the supervision of a teacher. I later learned that the school does not have the money to pay for teachers so often teachers simply do not show up.

About a year ago, 300 students attended the school, but after the hurricanes the student population dwindled to about 100. Some of the 100 students ride their family’s mule to school—a small field next to the school was the mule “parking lot.” Many families have been unable to send their kids to school either because of road/travel conditions or the necessity to keep the children at home. Unlike Holy Innocents, not all of the kids were dressed in the “required” uniform. Father Ais questioned some of the kids about their missing uniforms and each had the same answer: “My family could not pay for the uniform.” Also missing from each classroom were text books. The school has not been able to afford books so classes are conducted without any educational materials.

When we toured the small church, I noticed the youngest students being taught at the back of the building. The hurricane damaged (beyond repair) the classroom that once housed the pre-k and Kindergarten classrooms. My heart broke when visiting Rosette—the students and teachers do not have the environment or resources to cultivate a positive education experience.

The needs are simple at Rosette: Money! The church and school need money to pay the teachers and to buy books and supplies. This might be Campbell Hall’s first project.

A Wild Ride to Saint Jacques Morne Rosette

A short video of one of our many adventures in route to the Church and School of Saint Jacques Morne Rosette. We crossed many rivers, not above them on a bridge, but literally through them. Notice the water coming into the car through the doors. More photos and information to come about my day trip out to Saint Jacques Morne Rosette.

Classroom Visits

Once the school day started, I had the opportunity to visit each classroom of the school with Edouard. We started with the pre-k classroom. The room had no light other than the sun pouring through the partially open wall. Hanging from the ceiling were colorful paper butterflies on red ribbon. There were a few visual aids on the wall—posters with pictures and their corresponding names like any other elementary school.

I had an opportunity to introduce myself to each class (through Edouard—my translator). As I entered each classroom, the students without hesitation all stood up and greeted me, “Bonjou!” Once they settled back into their seats, I told them my name (Father Ryan). I told them I was from the city of Los Angeles in the United States. I told them that I was a teacher at a school and that I have come to Port de Paix to learn about their wonderful school. Some of the students smiled, some laughed, and some did not know what to make of the situation.

Each classroom was very simple—there were one or two chalkboards, a teacher’s desk, and a collection of homemade wooden (bench-like) desks for the students. The walls were painted a bright, tropical, blue/green and a small wooden Cross hung in each classroom on a wall. I would estimate that each class was filled with about 30-40 students. The classrooms were not separated by solid interior walls—so sound from adjoining rooms filtered throughout each class. There were no windows in the classrooms just slots in the brick façade which are a blessing and a curse. The blessing: The slots allowed students to see outside and for a breeze to move through the overcrowded classroom. The curse: Classrooms were unprotected from the elements and the sounds of the outside world including the busy roads running along the school's property constantly filled the school. There were no computers, no projectors, no lights, no televsions, and no power.

In the upper grades, I had an opportunity to hold brief discussions with each class. We talked about their studies, Port de Paix, and they asked me a few questions about the United States. I visited all 16 classrooms and had an opportunity to take a picture of each class--here are some of the classes.

Singing with the little ones

As the “big ones” (1st-6th) rushed off to class, the pre-k and kindergarten students gathered in the school yard for a few songs together with their teachers—of course I had to join in. We sang “Old McDonald Had a Farm” and I learned a little of Creole in the process. We also sang “If You are Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands”--one my all-time favorites as a kid (It was awesome). The students also sang a few Haitian songs with great fanfare. As I took some pictures and recorded some video, the little ones surrounded me—they wanted to have their picture taken (especially once I began showing them their pictures on my camera’s LCD screen). But, many of the little ones just wanted to simply hold my hand, touch my face, pull on my wedding ring, or hear me speak. I now know what the Beatles felt like when they walked through a crowd. It was a wonderful and welcoming experience—for many of them, I was the first white-person they had ever seen.

Morning Prayers and Flag Raising Ceremony

At 7:20am the church bell rings and grades 1st-6th gather in the school courtyard. Lining up by grade and then by class, the students and teachers of Holy Innocents assemble for their daily morning liturgy: Prayers and the Flag Raising Ceremony. The brief service is highlighted by prayers and the singing of the Haitian national anthem as the flag is raised to the top of the school. I participated twice in this wonderful daily ritual. As I watched this simple yet beautiful service unfold, I was reminded of Campbell Hall’s Elementary Chapel. The service began with a faculty member calling the community to worship. The opening was followed by the singing of a traditional church hymn and then the prayers of the community were said including the Lord’s Prayer. The language was different, Creole, but the words were exactly the same! It was a blessing to hear the students singing with great joy and pride (again it reminded me of Elementary Chapel). I have video of the service, but due to my limited internet access while in Haiti, I will post the video when I return to the US. Until then, enjoy the pictures.

Some of the beautiful faces of Holy Innocents

Promise to post more text tomorrow. It has been a long, yet wonderful day. Here are some pictures.

Edouard . . . Teacher, Translator, and Friend

Meet Milien Edouard but he says everyone calls him "Edouard." We spent many hours together in Port de Paix. Edouard is a teacher at Holy Innocents School. He teaches 3rd grade and also leads an after-school tutoring program at Holy Innocents. His students claim that he is their favorite teacher at the school. While in Port de Paix he was my teacher. Edouard taught himself French, Spanish, and English through a series of books. We talked for hours about Haiti, Holy Innocents, Port de Paix, politics, America, teaching, the Episcopal Church, his children (he has four children), our wives, and God. He served as the translator between Reverend Ais and myself. Edouard was by far the best teacher I have ever had. His dream is to visit America and to see an American school. I hope to bring Edouard and Reverend Ais to Campbell Hall in the coming year. Thank you my brother, Edouard.

Haiti, Day One

It is 6:15pm and the sun has already set in the town of Port de Paix, Haiti. As I sit on the concrete floor of my simple guest room, the roar of the rectory’s generator pounds away—it is almost deafening. I wonder if the heat and humidity will keep me up all night, or the blasting sound of the generator. Nevertheless, I have been only on the ground in Haiti for over six hours and it has already been overwhelming.

My American airlines flight was packed (probably about 250 people). It was a mix of Haitians and Americans. It appeared many of the Americans were coming to do some type of missionary/ministry work. My first simple dose of Haiti reality: While on the plane, the flight attendants filled out many of the Haitians’ Customs and Immigration forms. I can only assume that many of them did not know how to read or write in French, Creole, or English.

As we made our approach into Port-au-Prince, I was struck by the landscape. From far away, Haiti reminded me of the western coast of Kauai—big mountains descending rapidly into the coastline. The hills were dotted with tints of brown and green. However, as we got closer and lower, I soon begun to see the reality that is Haiti. As we taxied on the runway, I could see numerous buildings and houses and they were just as I imagined; run down, falling apart, almost inhabitable. As we walked off the plane and made our way to the immigration area, we were greeted by a traditional Haitian band playing in the terminal. The immigration line moved along and I was pleased to see the sight of Kesner Ajax (the local priest in charge of the Haiti Connection) moving toward me in the line. After a very long 20 minutes, I retrieved my bag that I checked. Note to self: Carry on only luggage next time. Kesner then rushed me out of the airport terminal to his car, dodging aggressive Haitian taxi cab drivers and beggars, and we traveled 10 minutes down the road to the “local” terminal. As we pulled into the small and flooded parking lot, it did not look anything like an airport terminal--it looked like a crumbling gas station.

Stepping through the door, I immediately came upon a metal detector and baggage screening area. I quickly emptied my pockets and threw my bag on the small conveyor belt. I was in such a rush that I had left a few items in my pockets, but the metal detector did not go off—it makes we wonder.

Soon Kesner and I were met by the local priest from Port-de-Paix, The Reverend Ais. Rev. Ais had booked our tickets on the small Haitian airline that flies to Port-de-Paix, Tortug (the only airline that flies currently to Port de Paix). We handed over our bags and began our wait. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 2:40pm, but it was close to 3:30pm before our flight left Port-au-Prince. During my time in the local terminal I began to gain an appreciation for the Haitian people and their community. This small terminal was bouncing with activity and everyone was saying hi and hugging—you would think everyone knows everyone in Haiti the way everybody greeted one another. It is a powerful statement on the Haitian community.

We boarded our very small plane (20 people max) for our trip Port de Paix. As we departed Port-au-Prince, our plane take off took us over the UN camp—a large complex near the airport. At an attitude of probably 10,000 feet we coasted along the west coast on Haiti. The coastline was dotted with small towns and overflowing rivers descending down the hills. About an hour or so later, we circled the city of Port de Paix and then landed . . . on a good old-fashioned dirt and stone runway; it is not for the weak at heart.

Soon after Rev. Ais and I got off the plane, we discovered both our bags did not make the trip. “Tomorrow morning we try to get them,” said Rev. Ais. We darted across a busy main street of Port de Paix—motor scooters raced by, large trucks quickly barrelled down the road, and loaded down mules filled the street. We hopped into a car of a friend of Rev. Ais (well, I think a friend) and drove ten minutes in a chaotic, people-filled street that was lined by small shops and street-side vendors. When we arrived at the Rectory, a group of merchants had setup camp in front of the car door leading to the rectory and school compound. After a five minute delay we headed into the compound/school.

For the most part, the school was empty. I was shocked to learn that the sun sets around 6pm at this time of year. I briefly toured the empty school with Reverend Ais and our translator, Milien Edouard (everyone calls him “Edouard”) who is also a teacher at Holy Innocents. At the end of the tour, we climbed to the rooftop of the school, and as the sun was setting, I got a wonderful view of the city of Port-de-Paix. I felt like a disciple on the mountain with Jesus . . . but tomorrow, I would have to come down from the mountain. Pax.

Minutes before take off

Had a wonderful conversation in the airport with an Episcopal priest who did mission work in Haiti. He was headed to the conference also. He has been to Port de Paix and gave me some helpful information. The plane is packed; half Haitians and half Americans some including families with school-aged children.

At the airport in Miami

Arrived and settled at the airport in Miami. It looks like my flight is on time for our departure to Haiti. Good news, one less thing to worry about. Still, it should be a very long day. Can't wait until our wheels touch down in Port de Paix.

The Day Before

It is the evening of November 9th and I am sitting in a Miami hotel room counting down the hours till my flight to Haiti; Port-au-Prince then Port de Paix. This past week, I was at the National Association of Episcopal Schools (NAES) Biennial Conference in Tampa. One of the greatest parts of the conference was connecting with Roger Bowen and a small group of Haitian priests, including Kenser Ajax, who leads many schools, colleges, trade schools, and other church organizations in Haiti.

I am so excited about this trip, but my heart still pounds awaiting the unexpected. Monday will likely be the most stressful day. It will be the first time I see Haiti. The airport/airplane logisitics are significant. As a tropical depression hovers off the coast of Cuba, will it delay my flight to Haiti? Will I arrive in Port-au-Prince in time to make my Haiti connecting flight? I am scheduled to board a small Haitian airline, Tortug, to take the last flight of the day to Port de Paix. Will the local priest, Reverend Ais, be in the airport in Port-au-Prince as promised? I have not heard from Rev. Ais in three weeks--my emails have gone unanswered, not an uncommon problem with the Internet going down in Haiti. What happens if I fail to make the last flight to Port de Paix, then where do I go? Plan B: travel with Rev. Ajax to the Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince. My mere rambling demonstrates my aniexty with Monday's logistics.

Yet, I am a person of faith, right? So, Monday's airport/airplane logistics will disappear and I will be transported to the small town of Port de Paix on Haiti's northwest coast. In Port de Paix region, the Episcopal church has four preschools and six elementary. No high school--the only region in Haiti that does not have a high school. I see a potential project for CH. No college or university--my heart breaks. I will be visiting the "mother school," Holy Innocents--our sister school. The mother school works with the schools in the area (some very remote areas of the region) to provide support and communication. The goal is to visit as many of the schools and their connecting parishes on Tuesday. Tuesday should be the day when I see the "real" Haiti upclose and personal.

For now, I cherish the time when my plane lands safely on the dirt runway in Port de Paix and Rev. Ais and I travel to the local rectory which will be my home for the next two nights. When time allows, I hope to write my thoughts and feelings. Posting them is another issue. Connecting to the Internet will not happen until at least Wednesday evening when I return to Port-Au-Prince and travel to the Hotel Montana for the Haiti Connection Conference hosted by the Diocese of Haiti.

In the meantime, I am a sponge (a nervous sponge). I will be taking picutres, learning the stories of the people of Haiti, and hopefully discerning how the Campbell Hall community can truly connect with the people of Haiti, especially at Holy Innocents.