Poverty spreads like fireflies on a summer night - Pap day 3

Definition of poverty - Poverty:denotes serious lack of the means for proper existence

Another day of riots in Citi Soleil, there are shootings. Again, we cannot make it inside the slums. The day before we brushed the surface and saw outskirt areas. I am determined to go. A boy from next door shows up five minutes after we call and is coincidently free to take me everywhere. We tour downtown Portauprince instead. I do not feel unsafe. I wonder if it is unsafe at night. Delmas is unsafe. I do not know what that means. Every street name also starts off with Delmas. We take many taptaps after seeing a Mother Theresa hospital. We go through downtown markets. There is trash everywhere in piles, in the middle of the road, it also serves the purpose of dividing traffic. There is some kind of statue in the middle of downtown Portauprince. Nothing about this downtown resembles other downtowns I’ve seen. There are no big buildings. There are just many people in the market streets and much trash. Downtown is just dirtier and crowded, this is what defines it. We bump into many of his friends on the street. I do not like attention so I wait quietly like a mute. I know everyone is asking about me. Not one person hasn’t he says. Explaining who I am is a bit too complicated, just say yes I'm Indian I tell him, that’s fine.

We meet his grandmother at her house along the streets. We continue walking through the rest of the entire city. He takes me through crowded streets. We finally go behind street market stalls to dodge car and truck traffic only to a small covered walkway. I hold his arm, he weans me through the crowd as I try to keep up and not trip behind him. I get stuck between men who are pushing from behind and those ahead who do not move, they brush against me from right and left as well. Finally we make it out. I pull my huge camera out again. I see a city pillar, the Haitian coat of arms and motto, right beside it there are tents. I can’t even take a proper picture. This scene itself is enough to describe the state of the country. We see the presidential palace collapse. I wonder where the new one is, I don’t really care. The Haitian government has been broken for some time in its own way. I continue to walk, I am not sure how long it’s been. We go through tent cities. Shamas. I wonder if Shamas has been around before. The tent town rides right into the streets right by presidential palace. It is flourishing with people. We do not go too inside. Everyone sees my camera. Haitian people do not like cameras. They still return my greetings and smiles. I want to wear a tshirt, I am not here to exploit. All around the city you see ‘We need help’ sprayed around. I do not see any help.

Then we go to Delmas sixty something, we go through and around the tents, down the mud steps, across the valley to the other side. I see an empty tent mud house, it is small. I see a girl's feet poking out of the tent, she lying across a bed passed out. I see an internet café in another tent. We continuously carve our way through clothes lines with damp clothes. I walk slowly, the streets with twigs and mud are all uneven. We carve through them shifting, ducking, bending as not to disturb the peace. Little toddlers waddle around. Ladies sit on stones in corners braiding hair. One woman sees me and goes inside. I do not take pictures of the people. The houses are all on different levels and styles, the land is not flat. Some tarp on top, some tarp on side. some metal shaft doors some curtains. some dirty, some clean. I barely get to see inside. The day concludes. In Haiti poor holds its own definition of basic needs of life. Poverty spreads through the city like a fireflies on a summer night. And still, I have yet to see slum life of those who live in worst conditions of abject poverty here.