Tuesday, January 19, 2010
After a delicious breakfast at the Mercure (which included incredible fruit and fruit-juices; and some of the finest bacon in the history of man’s fascination with pork), we hired a taxi and purchased supplies at the nearby markets. It was at the same time a nickel tour of the fascinating history and buildings in Santo Domingo. I would definitely like to spend a few days there on a subsequent trip to see and learn more. The markets were not unlike those in Port au Prince and other Haitian cities. We visited a half-dozen or so to purchase everything we thought we might need.
We made our way back to the airport to link up with the rest of the immediate team: Sharon Craig, from California, and Cindy Seigel, from Naragansett, Rhode Island; both nurse mid-wives. Through friends of Cindy, we were afforded transportation on luxury coaches arranged by a Dominican non-profit, Sur futuro. The idea of traveling to Haiti on a luxury coach was foreign and a significant irony, but after fourteen years I’ve learned not to question reliable transportation when traveling to and in Haiti. And the fact that the five-hour drive took closer to nine-hours made the odd reality of the comfortable seat all the more welcome!
At the airport, “Stacie Novitsky” introduced herself to us. In hindsight, her story seemed all the more implausible: a photojournalist who missed her UN flight as an embedded reporter for Polaris, who was now sought to link up with friends in the NYFD Search & Rescue Team already in Port, etc. Regardless, we welcomed her, offered her transportation; and, I offered her my belt and $100 since she was short on cash and forgot the belt on which should have hung her expensive cameras, etc. I felt sorry for this mother of three who was struggling to succeed in her vocation. Upon arriving in Jimani, Stacy hooked up with the Puerto Rican S&R Team, who deposited her in Port. She friended us all on Facebook, un-friended us a few days after we returned to the States; and, was never heard from again. While I was sick in bed recovering from the trip, I googled her and discovered her real name is Stacy Librandi, and while she is a capable photographer, she is a con-artist who has been run out of the wedding industry in New York City! Oh, well…we did the right thing at the time.
We traveled on the first of four coaches, each of which was protected by a heavily armed Dominican Marine; all of which were escorted by armed Marine vehicles. The balance of ours and one other was comprised of a 90-member surgical team from Puerto Rico. The trip was uneventful, but long—due to the extraordinary number of vehicles making their way to Haiti. We stopped at the Dominican equivalent of a Thruway rest-stop and ate some delicious Dominican fare. (Sadly, Elizabeth and I blame a shared dish of saucy pork on a bout of traveler’s diarrhea which hit us the next day!)
We continued on our way, and arrived at Good Samaritan hospital in Jimani at midnight.
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