Up up and away!

Most of you probably know that I really like to climb things. (I really dislike climbing down, but that rarely stops me anymore). Trees, roofs, sculptures, monuments, ruins...pretty much anything is fair game. Mountains have a special pull, and I have a mental list of heights that I desperately wanted to climb but didn't have time to (the Petit and Gran Pitons in St Lucia, and the bluff at Corrymeela, especially), and that I am itching to return and conquer. The orphanage is settled into the base of the mountain ridge that marks the southern edge of Port-au-Prince, so I've been looking at these mountains every day for months, and Friday I finally got to climb them!

Thursday night I looked at googlemaps and sketched what looked like it might be a route to the top on a piece of notebook paper. In several places the paths didn't connect and I just drew arrows to signify "climb straight up the hill until you find the other road". I also tried to add terrain features, and contour lines to help me follow. Mostly it looked like modern art. 

Friday morning we set out after breakfast, armed with water bottles, granola bars, and my oh-so-high-tech map. We started by just continuing up our road until we were out of the city, and the dusty road started to snake along the base of the ridge.  Eventually we decided to ditch the real road, and follow a path up a ravine (this was one of my arrows on the map). 

We know up is the general direction we want. And this donkey-path is going up. Let's do it.

Only half-way, and the view is already incredible! Also, when did the path disappear?

Whatever, paths are for sissies. I'll just climb up this ravine that's so steep it had to be terraced to be in any way useful.

Eventually we were basically rock-climbing up terraces, and then carefully picking our way across the terraces to avoid stepping on beans and corn growing there. How the farmers get up/down there to take care of the crops, or haul out the harvest, I do not know. There were lots of beautiful flowers, rock lizards, and best of all, singing birds! The only birds around the orphanage are pigeons, so it was so nice to hear and see beautiful song-birds.

Zandolit (pronounced zahn-doh-leet. Sounds so much cooler than 'lizard')

After pulling my way up one particularly tricky ledge, I turned to warn Nate about a loose rock, and then turned to find myself nose-to-nose with a cow. I about had a heart-attack. The poor cow probably did too. I squealed something very intelligent along the lines of "IT'S A COW!!!" and nearly fell back down the ledge, but caught myself, saying, "oh, it's a cow. Okay, just a cow. cool. whew." Then Nate and I stood there puzzling and puzzling over how in hell the cow got to be tied on that terrace, or was ever going to leave. If we could barely climb up or down, how was a cow going to do it?? Still wondering about that one. 

So she kind of looks threatening in this picture. But she's actually just pouting and backing away. She'd probably never seen a white person before. Now the poor thing believes in ghosts.

After stopping for a rest, passing some farmers who were quite amused to see two white kids struggling up the ravine, and encountering several varieties of stinging/thorny plants, we finally made it to the road. Probably the happiest I have ever been to see a road before (and I am using the term 'road' loosely here). This was probably the nicest part of the whole hike. The road followed a very gradual incline and wound along the side of the ridge, with incredible views of the city and ocean. 

Look how it's like we're level with the clouds. Crazy gorgeous.

 

We met an adorable donkey, a very threatening, smelly, and HUGE bull, who was luckily tied a fair ways off the road (so glad I didn't run into him coming up the ravine!), and lots and lots of really cute goats. After seven months here, I still had yet to touch a Haitian goat, they're very skittish. So with all these goats staked out by the road, and theoretically unable to escape, I was on a mission. But no matter how slowly and non-threateningly I approached, I always got rejected. :(  

King of the hill.

"Just because I'm small and cute doesn't mean I'm stupid. There is nothing in your hand."

At one point we came around a bend and saw one of the most impressive trees I have ever seen, growing out of the side of a cliff. And, of course, I climbed it, much to the amusement of a bunch of little kids who came around the bend and were shocked and delighted to find a blan way up in a tree. I'm pretty sure I overheard this conversation: 

boy - how did she get up there? 

girl - she climbed. duh.

boy - no she didn't, blans can't climb trees.

girl - that's stupid, yes they can. 

boy - no they can't! 

girl - well how did she get up there then? 

boy - ummmm...

And yes, I did climb all the way up and then down from there without help.

Shortly after this we decided to leave the road and start heading in a more upward direction. We followed a footpath that led us through a tiny village tucked into some trees, where we skirted nervously around an angry dog, tried to avoid stepping on a flock of spazzy chicks that couldn't figure out which way to run, and surprising the heck out of several old ladies and giving them something to talk about for the next week. Then the path led us out of the trees and steeply up a grassy slope. By this point Nate and I were both exhausted (we don't get much/any exercise here, so we're really out of shape) and I was stopping every hundred feet or so to rest.

Paths are for sissies? Yeah, well, that would be me at this point. My legs are done with working, thanks very much

The "top" of the mountain turned out to be a rather vague concept, and every time I thought we were there another little ridge appeared. Finally I stopped short in front of a farmer's field, unable to walk through it without destroying all the new corn. We decided this was "top" enough, and plonked down underneath a convenient tree to eat the snacks we brought and drink the last of our water (why did we think one water bottle each would be enough?). The view was breathtaking, the breeze was lovely, the grass was comfortable...so of course I fell asleep. Only for a few minutes, I think. Oops. I earned it, I guess.

Post-nap victory picture

Now that we had a second wind, we decided to wander down the mountain by a different way. We could see that we had come a lot farther east than we'd intended, so we decided to start by walking along the crest of the ridge. Here I FINALLY found a friendly goat.

Aww hey little buddy. So glad I finally found you. 

Later we started walking past some huge mansions, apparently a good road comes up the backside of the mountain. We were able to look out over to the valley and dry riverbed (dry until rainy season starts next month), and pick out Dr. Bernard's house. There were farms and fields laid out over the hills, like a green patchwork quilt. I was surprised at how much it looked like a mountainous version of Ireland. The soil is so rich here, and the land is capable of producing so much! The problem is that it's difficult to farm on steep hillsides. But with terracing, patience, and tenacity, they do it.

Eventually we left the crest and started winding down the hill. At one point we found raspberry bushes along the path. They were only half-ripe, but I was so excited I ate a whole bunch anyways. Beyond that we found a very large cow standing in the middle of the path. Not as menacing as the bull, but nearly as large, and very much not moving. We faced off for a while, and then without thinking I took a step forward and did a cow wave (for those of you not in the know, this involves moving your arms up and down kinda like you're doing the wave in a stadiu). To my surprise and delight, the cow lumbered off the path. Apparently that arm wave is the universal sign for "move, cow".

Continuing down the hill, the path got worse and worse, until we were rock-hopping along a deep washed out gully. We heard voices calling "blan" and looked back to see two men and a woman standing a little ways behind us motioning for us to come back. They were wearing the uniform of the work crew we'd seen working on the road at the very top of the mountain, and they told us that the path we were following had fallen away from the mountainside a little further down and was very dangerous. They asked where we were going, and when we said Ft. Mekredi they all beamed and motioned for us to come with them down an alternate 'path' that they could follow without hesitation, but I could barely make out. So we zig-zagged down the steep mountainside behind our new friends, hopping down rocky slopes at high speed. I felt like a very tired and dehydrated mountain goat. After nearly an hour of descending so quickly my ears were popping, we came to the edge of the city, and one of the guys stopped at the first vendor we passed and bought water for all of us. So kind of him, and he had no idea how much I needed it; I was starting to feel woozy. After threading through a tangle of alleys we popped out on our street, just above the orphanage. Our guides led us to our door, smiled goodbye, and then parted ways to their own homes. I have no idea how far out of their way they went to bring us home, but we were so so grateful! Yay for random kindness of strangers.

(P.S.Thank you to Nate who took all of these wonderful pictures!)