Arrived at the Ft. Lauderdale airport, and after all airport procedures for international flight were completed, proceeded to the gate for Port-au-Prince, Haiti, via American Airlines.
Two small children with their sweet "Easter-like" dresses, bows and shoes were politely walking around awaiting the same flight. My heart sang and longed for our Brook.
The cultural differences were already apparent. Boarding the large plane was so quiet. The soft voices mostly only spoke Creole. Stoiac faces until eye contatct occured and a smile was offered and received.
The lady who set beside me began taking the international forms you must fill out before landing, from one person and then another and another. She filled them out for each person...as it was obvious they were all unable to read or write with the ability to complete the forms. She took care of all that needed help...quietly...few words even spoken.
The whole atmosphere changed upon landing. The quite stoic atmosphere changed to push to the front, no privileges noted, no gentleness or patiences offered. Shuffling off the plane into a world like I had never before flowed into. Alone...5'1"...American...unable to speak Creole...I followed the flow of the crowd. From the plane to the heat of the world which my feet continued to usher me into.
Down hallways, down stairs, jam packing into a bus that had to have been built in the 50's, bouncing to the next place to maneuver without being trampled or pushed down...on through a sort of check station, finding the luggage (planned small and manageable), and dragging it again on toward an area of open double doors with men standing awaiting the opportunity to force their assistance upon you.
I must admit, New York city did have some influential help with preparing me for the no eye contact and abrupt "no!" it took over and over to make it past this area.
