Pushkar journeys on

January 30, 2002

For me, Haiti moulds into one character: Remy. He talks a lot. Quarrelling and fighting is in his nature. He gets mad for no apparent reason. And recently his anger is targeted at me.

I did not get the visa to enter the Dominican Republic. I think mediator Remy’s suspect misinterpretation at the Consulate is partly to blame for it. In the last three days I spent with him, I feel tied-down. I can do nothing I desire on my own. He dictates me. Everything goes according to him. From when I wake up to when I sleep, Remy does not leave me to myself.

Yesterday, without letting him know, I bought a ticket for Puerto Rico. That night, as we settled for sleep, I announced that I would leave the following day. He told me to forget about the idea and wait till Saturday when he would be able to join me. He promises to get me the visa for the Dominican Republic - by hook or by crook.

I lied and explained to him that the Caribbean Air sent me a complimentary ticket to Puerto Rico. I took out my ticket and showed it to him. He got enraged. He called Caribbean Air immediately but could not get through. He banged the phone down. Scared that he might do something to me in his wrath, when he went to the toilet, I quickly placed my khukuri under the pillow and prepared to sleep.

January 31, 2002

Remy got up at 4 in the morning and started calling various places. I just watched him. I had to be out of the hotel by 6, but he kept me back till 6:10. When we were out on the road, he suddenly suggested we go to his place and get his belongings. I was not interested. We started to fight and people watched us. I firmly told him I would not go to his place. He punched me. I did not want to fight with him. I thought it better to quietly walk away. I told myself, ‘this is his country, I am on my own and there is very little I can do. I should keep myself away from any trouble’. I rushed to the airport. I was getting late. I raced cutting through the city’s thick polluted air and reached the airport just on time.

In a country like Haiti, where 90% of its resources are either misused or embezzled, and where unemployment is a problem, the GNP remains very low. When I look at people around me, and listen to their stories, their basic preoccupation is how to make enough money to live through the day.

As I approached the airport, people ran to collect my luggage. I don’t need any help since my luggage is strung around my cycle. I gave one of them the responsibility of holding my cycle. He spoke English, so communication was not really a problem. I knew that I would need someone like him to support me if Remy turned up.

I have noticed that in places like the airport, men hang around in their respective gangs. Even before I could send my luggage through the checking counter, Remy appeared. He told me that the Director of the Caribbean Air wanted to see me. I knew that this was a trap- I had bought the ticket from a private travel agency and the Director would have no business with me. Remy started pulling me. I told him that I didn’t want to go, but he insisted that I go with him. I then told the porter to save me from the half-crazed man, but instead, Remy punched him badly. But the porter had his own gang of people, and they slowly surrounded Remy in an intimidating manner. They beat him up.

However, Remy had done the damage. He had already gone to the checking counter earlier and informed them that I did not have the needed visa to enter the Dominican Republic, so they ought not to send me. I didn’t know why he was giving me so much of trouble. He became a big obstacle for me. I gave the porter USD 20 and explained that I would be in the Dominican Republic on transit. I asked him to fix things for me at the checking counter. He talked to the officers and finally, my luggage was checked and sent through. I crossed the immigration and as I walked into the waiting hall, I started to scheme on what I would do to Remy if he still came after me. But he did not come.

While I flew, I looked down at Port Au Prince. I waved goodbye to it. I knew I would never return to lunatic-cyclist, Remy’s unfriendly shantytown-like country ever again.

En route to Puerto Rico

Caribbean Air did not even serve a glass of water.

I got off the plane and collected a transit visa for the Dominican Republic after I landed at the Santo Domingo domestic airport. I think Port Au Prince has the world’s most expensive airport tax- 30 US Dollars. At Santo Domingo the entry form was only USD10. After that I catch my track for international airport. At the checking counter, I had to wait in a queue for more than two hours. I must have aroused suspicion for officers at the checking counter asked to check all the contents of my bags.

I had to stay at the Dominican Republic for about two hours. When I tried to check-in for my 3:45 flight to Puerto Rico, I was informed that the plane had left an hour ago. I was mortified. Later, I found out that Haiti is an hour ahead of the Dominican Republic. I cursed myself. It seemed like Remy’s curse was following me around. I cursed Remy.

There were no vacant seats on the 5:05 plane and neither were there any on the 6:30 plane. Eventually, I had to take the 7:11 plane to Puerto Rico. When I reached San Juan, Puerto Rico’s capital, it was raining. Air traffic officers were escorting passengers to the bus under rows of umbrellas.

In our next issue, Pushkar explores Puerto Rico - free of Remy.

source, pushkar's diary, wave magazine,nepal