We took time to see the city of Cap Haiten and the rural areas outside the city. To the entertainment of everyone else - and myself - I opted to ride in the bed of the truck most the time, to both snap photos and take advantage of something not allowed in our over-lawed society.
Two Fridays ago, Fr. Andre took the three of us, as well as Bob and Ann; a couple from Montreal, staying at the orphanage simultaneously, to the beach. Taking the high road - and the bumpy one - we etched our way through the northern stretches of Cap Haiten, into the highlands and further and further from the 'somewhat' paved streets of the bustling city. Climbing into the mountains, we snaked our way passed 'tap-taps' and motorbikes, down and out of ravines within the road, sculpted by the rain water draining down the cliffs.
We passed and people stared; mainly at me, villages and streams where women washed clothes before setting them on the cactus bushes nearby in the morning sun to dry. Nearing the apex of the climb, I noticed a break in the mango, spruce and banana trees and then, the immense blue. The next turn brought full view of the Caribbean sea and a lone sailboat, beat by the waves, some of which crashing and spraying the rocky coast.
We made our descent, very slow now on the increasingly windy and thin road. As we got closer two trucks loaded with 10 people in each bed were closing in to our bumper. Turning the corner - a clear blind spot - Fr. Andre honked and as he did the two trucks passed us, missing motorcycles by mere feet and another truck, which in passing bumped driver-side mirrors with ours.
We soon arrived at Cormier Plage, a resort of sorts. We spent the day at the beach, in the warm sea and I got sunburned to the point I'm dealing with it as I write.