Reflecting on My First Month in Haiti

 I arrived in Haiti on February 15, 2022, which means it has been my home for slightly over a month now. How are things going, you may ask? All in all, I'm happy to report that I am enjoying my time here. Let's talk about some of the adjustments I've had to make and some of the awesomeness that Haiti has to offer.

The Weather

The weather has been the most difficult adjustment for me. I have endured hot weather before — St. Louis summers are brutal — but I have never had to put up with it without having someplace to retreat to. Here, A.C. is extremely rare, and we do not have it in our home. The high temperature is in the mid-80s pretty much every day, and at night, it might dip into the low-70s. It's quite humid, so I'm sweating all the time (I had no idea my upper lip could sweat so much). 

I don't quite know when to shower. It's normal for people in Haiti to shower multiple times a day, but I'm afraid of overdoing it and hurting my skin. I'm also afraid of underdoing it and sacrificing my hygiene. It's a balance that I never thought I would have to worry about.

Fortunately, I'm not as miserably hot now as I was when I arrived. "Experts" say it can take about two weeks to acclimate to hot weather. It has taken me longer than that, but I'm finally to the point where I'm not constantly groaning about that big burning ball of fire in the sky. That is, as long as I stay out of direct sunlight. Thus far, I have avoided both sunburns and tans. I'm rather proud of that fact.

The Electricity

24/7 electricity is somewhat of a luxury here. The local power company provides electricity for several hours every two days (on average). Between those times, we have batteries to power our home. When the power company gives us juice, the batteries get charged up, and we have a fairly constant supply of energy.

The problem is that I'm not used to rationing electricity. I left the ceiling fan on all night one night last week, and we had absolutely no power the next day. Whoopsies.

Fortunately, we got solar power shortly after the ceiling fan incident. This means that not only can we keep the fridge plugged in all the time, but I can also stay in the glorious presence of a fan at virtually all times.

The Food

Contrary to popular belief, I'm firmly convinced that cooking is not a necessary life skill. In other words, I'm quite good at boiling water, pouring cereal, and carrying out other tasks that involve little to no effort. We hired my sister-in-law to prepare some meals for us, and she is an excellent cook. Everything she prepares is tasty, and it's always nutritious, too. Occasionally we go to the beach and indulge in fire-roasted fish, which is one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted.

Unfortunately, it has taken some time for my body to adjust to a completely different way of eating. I'm getting there, but sometimes all I want is to dig into some Thai food or make some scrambled eggs or eat pretty much anything that I regularly enjoyed back at home.

The good news is that the local grocery store does carry ice cream, so I'm not totally deprived of my favorites. Unfortunately, the local brand of ice cream, though it says "ice cream" on the package, is not the real deal. The first ingredient is water. Oh well. It satisfies a craving. The real ice cream costs about $16 for half a gallon.

The Language

The local language is Haitian Creole (a lot of official forms are in French, but if you want to enjoy Haiti, you have to know Creole). It's a beautiful language, and it's not too difficult. I'm not as far along in learning it as I would like, mostly because being a newlywed, being in a completely different environment, and feeling like I'm melting half the time has stolen much of my emotional energy. Still, I am learning bit by bit. 

The funny thing about learning Creole is that my Chinese tries to interfere. I spent several years studying Mandarin, so often, when I try to speak Creole, the first thing that comes to mind is Chinese. Even worse, my Chinese is fading away because I haven't practiced it in several months. It's a mishmash of languages in my brain. But I'll definitely get it sooner or later.

The Matter of Safety

I acknowledge that many of my friends think I'm either crazy or naive to be living in Haiti. It's true that my fair skin makes me stand out, and any locals with bad intentions may target me because of that. It's also true that recent events in Haiti have contributed to an uptick in violent crimes throughout the country.

Nevertheless, I feel safe. I don't leave home without someone to accompany me. Our car has dark windows so no one will know I'm inside if we ever get stuck in a traffic jam. Plus, the town where we live is nothing like Port au Prince. Whereas PAP is known for gang violence and kidnappings, Jacmel is a pretty quiet coastal city where the locals tend to love foreigners.

I should mention, though, that I did have one brief safety scare (in PAP, before I arrived in Jacmel). When I got to the airport, I was waiting for my husband to meet me. He got delayed, so he told me to wait inside the airport for him. I waited. While I was waiting, a friendly older man asked me if I needed help. I told him no, I was waiting for my husband. He told me that my husband sent him. I knew my husband had a friend who worked at the airport. I knew it wasn't this specific man, but I figured maybe it was another one of my husband's connections. That's why I accompanied him outside the airport to a waiting area in front of the main building. The man stood guard over me and my luggage while we waited for my husband.

When my husband arrived, he was alarmed because he had no idea who the man was. It turned out that the man just wanted an opportunity to help me so I would give him a good tip. I understand why he did it — he may not have had any other means of making money — but the situation still scared me.

I Love My Life Here

Haiti isn't for everyone, but it is for me. I love my journey here so far, and I can't wait to see how it will continue to help me become a better person.