Cite Soleil

Before I share the experience I had yesterday I first want to make something very clear. Port au Prince is a beautiful city. I love living here. One of my favorite parts of the day is simply riding through the city on the moto with Daniel. I take in the sounds, smells, and bustling people. I look at the mountains that surround us, and the amazing heat of the sun on my shoulders and neck.
I don't even like cities, but this one is different.
Not all of Port au Prince, and certainly not all of Haiti is like Cite Soleil. Got it? Good.
That being said, Cite Soleil is not a horrific place either. The conditions are shocking, but the people who live there are still people. They're not different just because they don't have the money to move.
Cite Soleil is the most impoverished slum in the western hemisphere.
It is not the most dangerous place in the western hemisphere.
In fact, if you have a proper guide, your safety is almost guaranteed.
I'm going to tell this story exactly how I saw it. I won't sugar coat anything, but I won't be a sensationalist either.
We began in the least poor neighborhood. The children run up to you and grab your hands. They yell "Hey you!" Because when the troops were in Cite Soleil they would hand out candy to the children. To get their attention they would yell "Hey you!" to the kids. So the children associate this phrase with blancs (Whit people).
They pet your skin and stare at you in awe. Soon you have five clinging to you as your try to walk along.
Our guide, Wollio lives in Cite Soleil. He speaks fluent English, and is a good friend of Michael's. Did I mention that I went with Michael?
Willio showed us his house, apologizing in advance that it was "modest".
It was once room with a sleeping pad. The walls were covered graffiti, and Michael promised that he would help him get some paint soon.
Willio told us that his wife and two daughters would come to live there as soon as he had beds for them. The room was similar to the size of and average garden shed. Maybe on the small side.
Some people have five children or more.
We started going deeper into the slum.
One of the things that stood out most to me was the smell. You see, there aren't any proper toilets so people are forced to use the ground, or the canal. They don't have a choice. Luckily pigs come and clean up the mess within minuets. I'm considering banning pork from my diet forever.
All of the garbage from the wealthier areas in the city is washed down the canal and into Cite Soleil. Awful isn't it? That the most impoverished area also receives all of the trash.
With this combo of waste the water is either vivid green or black. The pigs stand knee deep with their heads underwater eating everything they can.
The alleyways start becoming more and more narrow as you go deeper into the slum, until they were smaller than any hallway you would ever have in your house.
Women sat outside nursing their babies, smiling at you when you greeted them with "Bon soir." (Good afternoon). People are eager to shake your hand and attempt conversation. I wish my creole was better, because I would have loved to talk to them.
Children hanging off of me were replaced with more children until their parents called them back.
It was so hot. I was dripping with sweat in minutes. I felt so strongly for the way it must be for them to sleep. Houses built upon houses. Some cement, some tin. I even saw a few built of old outhouse doors. You know the blue plastic kind? And the heat from all those bodies, and never ending stagnant water.
The kids would run right through the water, not caring at all.
When we arrived at the beach it was nothing but garbage. This is a beach on the Caribbean ocean.
I stood, waiting as Michael and Willio talked about something in creole. Soon I was surrounded by Ti Mons (Kids aka little people.) They wanted so badly to have their picture taken, which is the one I posted on Facebook.
We were in Cite Soleil for about an hour and half.
I am amazed by the people I met, and by the way they have to live. They were so kind, and Michael, having been their several times, has many friends.
Willio invited us to a barbecue there next Saturday. I am so flattered that they would be willing to share their food with us. Michael feels very obligated to go, even though they are having seafood so it is almost guaranteed he will get food poisoning. I might go as well, and just say I'm allergic to shellfish. If they bring me anything else it will probably be quite safe. Haitians are even more afraid of getting cholera than we are, so they cook everything to death in oil.
Haiti is still in the grip of the worst cholera epidemic that the world has seen for a hundred years.
Anyway, there you go.
My exact view of Cite Soleil. The good parts, and the not so good.
I think the pictures I posted say a lot, but I couldn't capture the kindness of the people.
The only way you are really in danger is if you go wandering through without a guide. Just a random blanc coming to gawk at their lives.
And really, that would be the case anywhere.