Falling Meat: everyday travel in Haiti

Getting from one place to another in Haiti is not always simple, though sometimes ordinary everyday travel is an adventure.

On Monday I was not able to get to my ministry because that school's truck had an appointment for an inspection.    There are no tap-taps that go close to that school; I avoid using motorcycle taxis because I don't think that they are safe especially without a special helmet. I was not given enough notice to come up with another plan, and it is the directress of the school who is supposed to coordinate my transportation, and she said there was no way to get me there.  I was disappointed. 

Here is a picture of the back of an empty tap-tap.  

Another morning this past week, I took a tap-tap to a school which is in a safe area and only a short distance from the end of the tap-tap line.  On that particular morning, I waited at the corner longer than usual.  Every tap-tap that passed by was going somewhere else.  I have learned the hand signals that are used to communicate with potential passenger regarding the destination of that particular vehicle.   On these routes, there is usually a kontwolè, a person (in my experience it has always been a male) whose job it is to ride on the back of the tap-tap, collect money, and signal to the driver (by tapping the back of the truck) when to stop to pick up or drop off passengers.   I was relieved when one finally stopped for me.  It was really already beyond full but I entered anyway. There was no seat avalaible for me. A couple of people were already standing on the back. To find a place, I had to step over a large white bucket whose overflowing contents where covered in a thin black plastic.  Someone offered to hold my backpack; I handed it over because if I hadn't it would have hit the people on one side of me in their faces.  Due to the height of the roof I had to hunch over, my feet between the feet of the passengers, doing my best to balance by holding on the side of the cap, my hand in the space in between people's heads.


After a few minutes, someone called for the driver to, "kanpe!" (stop!) "vyann an tonbe!"  (the meat's falling!)  From where I was (sort of ) standing  I could not see what was going on.  Once we stopped the kontwolè and a woman exited.  A couple of minutes later another woman decided not to continue her journey in this tap-tap so I had a place to sit towards the end of one of the benches and could hold my own back-pack without the likelihood of injuring or annoying my fellow passengers.  I turned my head to see that the kontwolè, and the woman who had exited where trying very hard to attend to the meat that had fallen.  They were lifting the dead body of a goat that had been skinned but not yet butchered. It was partially covered by a sack; its legs and feet were sticking out.  They were struggling, unable to return the meat to the roof of the tap-tap.  Finally, seeming somewhat annoyed, the driver exited the cab and assisted them in returning the goat cadaver, whose legs were now a bit sandy, to its spot on the roof above our heads.  We continued for a few minutes before stopping again.  This time it was to inflate a flattening tire; there are businesses along the way that consist of a machine to do so and a generator to run the air machine (since electricity is not reliable.)  Once most of the people had exited the tap-tap, the smell of uncooked meat became evident to me; the white bucket I had climbed over contained some kind of meat too. Fortunately,  it was nearly time for me to exit and begin the short walk to school, which concludes with a hike up some steep steps.

Since it had rained last night, the walk this morning from the street to and from the building that our young parish uses for mass (we don't yet have a church) was not as simple as usual.  If it were not for the makeshift bridge quickly constructed of cinderblocks and long wooden boards, I am not sure what we would have done.  As you can imagine, this was particularly challenging for some of the older parishioners.  Leaving required waiting in line since the entire congregation that had gathered for liturgy had to leave in single file and walk slowly so as not to fall into the water.   

Sometime during the summer bean seeds were sown in many places in our yard including along the path that goes from the carport to the back door.  The plants have flourished! They are so healthy that when I take that route, sometimes for or a moment (especially if I've been doing play therapy that day,) I imagine I am making my way through a jungle.  Turning the last leg of the daily journey whether or not it has been simple, into a bit of an adventure!


Have a good week.  Many blessings!