My daughter’s first visit to Haiti and the indescribable fright she never knew

Like many immigrant Haitian parents, my wife can be best described as an eye witness of atrocities as she was growing up that will keep her of Haiti for the rest of her life unless major changes would happen in development, concept an attitude that would convince her otherwise.  Notwithstanding from this fact, I had a tough time convincing her of Joanne’s travel approval to Haiti and Joanne in her own way had to win the rite of passage.

It was during the summer 2005, my daughter landed in my country and what a thrill it was for me to have her as my special guest.  The Welcome Committee at Operation Hope modest Head Quarter gave her a princess welcome.  She was having the time of her life unaware of the ghastly and potent news surrounding Haiti at that time.   I was certainly confident but yet over protective as I will not let her of my site and kept her tranquil so she would have Haiti as the best and unforgettable travel experience while she played a small role in Dad’s life struggle to help the deprived.   I must admit that I could hear mammy’s voice at all times and never ceased to feel that I took an engagement that I could not fail.  So, in essence I had the fifth sense to take time off my daily trips to risky areas and never actually introduced her to anyone as my daughter except to a few closed loyal volunteers I could trust.  That was bloodcurdling; I was becoming my wife in thought and spirit. 

I took Joanne south of the country where we enjoyed walking in a river bank, wandering through banana fields, breathing pure country fresh air and talking and playing with the natives, cows and goats.  We drove up the mountains, a site we will treasure for ever as I wanted to soar with her to enjoy from above the beauty   
 

 
of this endearing land.  We ended up in Jacmel, a city full of history that reminded her of a cinematographic set in which I am sure she was probably actively playing a role only her could describe.  We left Jacmel at twilight as we were both fascinated in the picturesque views the mountainous outlines offered us at the horizon and at every turn.  By the time we reached Leogane, it was murky with only the stars in the sky and a few traffic lights with the estrange awareness that there was no night life in the country.  A few distances from us, there were a MINUSTAH check point and of course she wandered why.  As we passed, I identified myself and we were waved through as we did to maybe to three more check points before we reached our Head Quarter.  We were hungry but not too tired and decided to have late dinner in Pétion-Ville where I invited a Journalist friend to join us.

Night life in Port-au-Prince especially during these political crises and uncertainties is feared by all but could be safer than actual day time due to the heavy presence of the MINUSTAH forces and a few police officers.   The lack of or the absence of electricity, can have a terrifying effect on the not so familiar visitors.   The advised and the over protective guide I was, made me always ready to explain and pacify any possible stupor that could possibly ruin the moment.  Pétion-Ville offered her a totally different site she expected.  She felt in her mantle enjoying a beautiful night life under the dark skies of Haiti.

During dinner, my journalist friend confined in me and quietly of dangerous and kidnapping activities being brought about me by close acquaintances and even had evidence that she restrained to present.  However she was convincing enough that I had to make an onsite lonely and irrevocable decision.  Unaware of the dialogue that took place, Joanne undeniably enjoyed a perfect night out, a good meal, couple punches, dialect blunders and laughter.  The trip back to the Head Quarter was as normal as it could be to her as she understood and had hands on experience on the security the MINUSTAH’s and the police officers’ presence offered to these communities.  Mammy’s voice was getting louder and louder in my subconscious non fearful mind and I was getting silently frenzied as we travelled through the night.  My imagination was playing the better part of me.  It was a relief when we finally arrived.  Joanne went to bed comfortably and peacefully while I ordered my security team to double on its alertness for the rest of the evening. 

At dawn, I had it all worked out, I would have to literally extradite my daughter out of this country without trepidation or inconvenience.   The airline company was already advised of the change and a sit was confirmed.  Due to an unforeseen and urgent situation beyond my control, we had to cut short your vacation I explained.  She was disappointed but very understanding and compliant.  The staff was saddened to see her leave so unexpectedly.  She became in a short period of time a mentor and a friend to all of them.  Swimming in the ocean will never be the same and those “UNO “card games will never be as fun as when she was playing.

That morning, my phone uncontrollably kept ringing and for the first time, I had no intention to answer any of those phone calls.  The trip to the airport was unusually long despite the expected rush hour traffic.  My anxiety was at its pick when most of these phone calls were coming from people not too common to call me so repeatedly.  I was reading through the waves and was getting ready to face whoever it may have been, but first and foremost, my daughter would have to leave this land.  Finally at the airport, I checked her in and had time to have breakfast with her.  There was a sense of serenity as I know the chances for anything to happen there, was far more less than anywhere else.  I sought special authorization from the airlines to accompany her to the airplane and with great delight and contentment I watched the door close as I said goodbye to my sweet and charming daughter.

As painful it was to see her leave so early, as delightful it was to watch the plane slowly turning on the tarmac and positioned for a great take off to civilization and tamed free will.