39 degrees, mosquito bites, slightly less bumpy roads - I am in Haiti again!
Departed at 6 in the morning from home, the first thing on my agenda is to get my TN visa. It’s the same drill: tell the immigration officer I need a TN visa, gave me a yellow board, signaled me to go through the second inspection office, had my fingerprints taken, then wait. A girl from Jordan was already waiting in the room. When the officer called me up for questions regarding my visa, she was simutaneously being “investigated” by the officer next to mine. I got my visa; she got a refused entry. Perhaps she could get by with a one-way ticket into the States if she’s not from Jordan? The officer was suspicious about her intention of becoming an illegal immigrant. Still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I got my visa, I instinctively followed the officer’s instruction to exit through a set of doors on the side.
Many mission teams were waiting at Miami to board the same plane to Port-au-Prince. We saw at least five teams who all wore the same t-shirts, and probably a lot more teams there which, like us, didn’t have synchronized apparels.
Port-au-Prince’s airport is the size of a warehouse, like a big box retail. We passed though a kiosk to get our passport stamped then met immediately by the two baggage belts. Many Haitians offered us their help. We tried to say no, but they were persistent. We walked out of the airport with three cart loads of luggages like we just shopped at Costco to feed 200 people.
Real Hope for Haiti, the medical ministry which we are serving is an hour and a half away from the airport. Sounds like far, but it really is not. It could possibly be a half-an-hour drive back home on a paved highway. Anyhow, we arrived safely. That was our first day.
Departed at 6 in the morning from home, the first thing on my agenda is to get my TN visa. It’s the same drill: tell the immigration officer I need a TN visa, gave me a yellow board, signaled me to go through the second inspection office, had my fingerprints taken, then wait. A girl from Jordan was already waiting in the room. When the officer called me up for questions regarding my visa, she was simutaneously being “investigated” by the officer next to mine. I got my visa; she got a refused entry. Perhaps she could get by with a one-way ticket into the States if she’s not from Jordan? The officer was suspicious about her intention of becoming an illegal immigrant. Still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I got my visa, I instinctively followed the officer’s instruction to exit through a set of doors on the side.
Many mission teams were waiting at Miami to board the same plane to Port-au-Prince. We saw at least five teams who all wore the same t-shirts, and probably a lot more teams there which, like us, didn’t have synchronized apparels.
Port-au-Prince’s airport is the size of a warehouse, like a big box retail. We passed though a kiosk to get our passport stamped then met immediately by the two baggage belts. Many Haitians offered us their help. We tried to say no, but they were persistent. We walked out of the airport with three cart loads of luggages like we just shopped at Costco to feed 200 people.
Real Hope for Haiti, the medical ministry which we are serving is an hour and a half away from the airport. Sounds like far, but it really is not. It could possibly be a half-an-hour drive back home on a paved highway. Anyhow, we arrived safely. That was our first day.
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