A Walk

I enjoy going for walks, and find that going for a walk here is a complicated issue. Being fairly new, I'm still trying to find out what is safe as a single female "blanc". There are precious few "blancs"on the street..., well none, actually. Listening to a female worker from another NGO recently talk about their airtight personnel security procedures, I realize why. They are virtual prisoners, with strict curfews, monitoring and rules, such as transportation only using company vehicles. MCC workers are completely on their own, and often travel as locals do (unless you manage to book one of the few MCC vehicles).

Comforted by the knowledge that there have been no abductions of 'blancs" since the earthquake, and stir crazy from sitting at a desk all day, I've begun venturing out for a walk to the store on my own.

Walking to the store is a far cry from a walk in the park. The streets are crowded with vendors selling everything from cell phones, to perfume, fried chicken, and toothpaste. Piles of garbage are the delight of pigs, goats and dogs roaming the street. Rubble from cleared property waits patiently for removal in the middle of the street. Vehicles battered by poor roads pull up on the sidewalk to have their tires changed. Ornamental plants for sale cheerily adorn a flattened building. Graffiti on any and all available walls plead for assistance or call for the return of Duvalier (previous ruthless dictator). This is my neighborhood. I return to the safety and calm of my home with relief and renewed perspective.