Our driver showed up at seven am. He introduced himself as Josny. Our security for the weekend, Gwo Bwa, was next to him.
Josny grabbed our luggage and put it in the cargo hold. His vehicle was a slightly older model SUV, perfectly fine for the long-haul, bumpy journey and much less conspicuous than the flashy, chromed up trucks we’d been using in the city. Édo, Hopeton and I climbed into the back.
We were off by seven-fifteen.
As we pulled away from Karibe, I decided it was best to mention my one selfish food request before we got too far into the journey.
“If it’s not gonna slow us down, I’m dying for a pate kòde,” I told Édo.
“Pa gen pwoblem, frè’m. You’ll get your pate, and a Prestige, if you want one,” he reassured me. He told Josny that we needed to stop at this one well-known roadside stand in Turgeau for some food for the road.
A four-hour drive stretched ahead of us, one that wound through Port au Prince up to the coast, past Carrefour and Léogâne, across the mountain range of central Haiti, then down to the southern coast. Our final destination was Hotel Cyvadier, located twenty minutes outside of Jacmel’s town center. Options were pretty slim at that time, Jacmel being slower to rebuild than Port au Prince. But luckily it was a nice place with clean, modern rooms. And it was located directly on the beach.
As soon as we began our descent down the mountain, heading towards the south coast, Hopeton started in with his “this is just like Jamaica!” commentary.
A massive logging truck blowing by us on a treacherous one lane road.
A lady carrying a basket of fruit on her head.
A man steering a wooden cart pulled by a donkey.
A group of uniformed school kids heading home after class.
Roadside rum shops.
“Woy! I feel like I’m back in Portland!” he practically shouted.
Édo, who’d spent years in Jamaica, laughed and said, “I knew you were going to bug out when we got down here. This is how I feel every time I’m in your country.”
At the hotel, Édo and I handled check-in. We hadn’t bothered reserving rooms in advance.
As Bwa and Hopeton dealt with luggage, Josny came over to us and asked, “Èske li posib pou’m rete ak fanmi mwen? Yo rete jis anlè ti mòn nan.”
Édo looked at me for an answer. I shrugged and told Josny it was fine with me if he wanted to sleep by his family, as long as he was back at the hotel every morning by seven o’clock. “Ban'm nimewo’w.” He gave me his number and I locked it into my phone.
As soon as we all had our rooms, I told Josny he should go check his family and that I’d text him as soon as we knew what the plan was for the rest of the day. He headed out.
Once I was alone, I remembered I needed to get in touch with Mistou. I’d dropped her a quick text the day I arrived in Haiti but had been so busy since then that I hadn’t gotten around to it again. She hadn’t bothered reaching out to me either, which I found to be a passive aggressive power flex. But, whatever.
I took a shower, changed clothes, threw myself on the bed and picked up my phone. It was close to one o’clock. She’d be in the middle of a crazy day at work, no doubt. I started typing.
Mistou. Where you been lately?
She replied immediately.
Miami, wondering where you’ve been.
Just got to Jacmel. Cyvadier, actually. Right outside of Jacmel.
Send me pictures.
I sent her a few photos I’d snapped on the road that morning, then asked her a loaded question
Do you miss me?
She sent me a one-word voice text.
“Yes.”
I put the phone down and settled in for a nap.
I woke up to the sound of someone knocking at my door.
“Pierre? You okay?” It was Édo.
I hauled myself off the bed and walked over to the door.
“Come on in,” I said. “I took a shower then passed the fuck out. What time is it?”
“Minutes to four,” Édo replied.
I opened the sliding door leading to my little balcony. We stood in the hot afternoon air, looking out across the hotel grounds towards the sea. A giant oil tanker hovered on the horizon.
“What’s Hopeton up to?” I asked.
“He told me to come check on you, then text him when I confirm you’re still alive.”
“Hit him now and tell him to come down to my room,” I said.
Four minutes later, Hopeton was at my door.
The three of us stood on the balcony, trying to figure out if we really had it in us to do anything tonight other than get food at the hotel then crash out.
“What do the two of you want to take care of while we’re in Jacmel,” asked Édo. “Is this a vacation, or is there any business you need to take care of? People you need to see?”
“How about tonight we get some rest and tomorrow we do the tourist thing?” I suggested.
Édo and Hopeton both nodded in agreement.
“I wanna go to Bassin Bleu,” I continued. “I haven’t been there since I was a little kid, and I’d love for Hopeton to see it.”
I turned to Hopeton and said, “I’m sure it’ll remind you of Jamaica.”
Édo laughed and agreed. Hopeton gave me a bland, Biz-like smile.
