Haiti

HungLikeJesus · 02-14-2012, 09:54 PM

Upon arrival at the airport, my co-worker, M, and I are picked up and expedited out the back gate. We wait in the car while the expediter takes care of customs and immigration.

The driver takes us to our hotel.

I ask him "Is it OK if I take pictures?"
He pulls over to the curb.
I say "I didn't mean right now. I just wondered if it was OK."
We don't move.
I take a picture. "Merci."
We resume driving.

At the hotel there is a guard at the gate with a shotgun. The hotel is nicer than I expect, considering the conditions we just drove through.

Check-in reminds me of Mexico - they take an imprint of my credit card and ask me to sign the blank card receipt, which I do.

The main building has the reception desk upstairs, and a restaurant and a pool on the roof. Downstairs is a conference room and some guest rooms. Most of the other guest rooms are in small duplex bungalows, including mine. The porter gives me the key to my room, which is on a plastic tag with the room number, 41, written in magic marker.

I open the door and see that the room is a mess. The porter apologizes and says he'll send the maid over right away. I've never seen such a filthy room - I can't understand how someone could get it in that condition. Even the toilet is clogged. (When I'm in a hotel I always clean the room before the maid arrives.)

I ask the porter, "Is there a safe?"
He says, oh yes, very safe.
I say, I mean a small safe, to put away my stuff.
He says, oh yes, your stuff is very safe.
I say "Merci" and he goes to get the maid.

I leave my clothes in the suitcase and take my backpack with me. I go to find M's room, but I'm lost. There are signs pointing here and there, but none for #20. I keep getting to dead ends.

I see a man trimming the bushes. He stops and asks me what I'm looking for. I say, "I'm trying to find room number 20."
He has a blank look.
I'm trying to remember the French word for 20. All I can think of is veinte.
He starts walking to the office and I tell him, never mind, because I just figured out where room #20 is - it's next to room #2, of course.

02-14-2012, 09:54 PM	#1
HungLikeJesus Only looks like a disaster tourist Join Date: Feb 2007 Location: above 7,000 feet Posts: 7,208	Upon arrival at the airport, my co-worker, M, and I are picked up and expedited out the back gate. We wait in the car while the expediter takes care of customs and immigration. The driver takes us to our hotel. I ask him "Is it OK if I take pictures?" He pulls over to the curb. I say "I didn't mean right now. I just wondered if it was OK." We don't move. I take a picture. "Merci." We resume driving. At the hotel there is a guard at the gate with a shotgun. The hotel is nicer than I expect, considering the conditions we just drove through. Check-in reminds me of Mexico - they take an imprint of my credit card and ask me to sign the blank card receipt, which I do. The main building has the reception desk upstairs, and a restaurant and a pool on the roof. Downstairs is a conference room and some guest rooms. Most of the other guest rooms are in small duplex bungalows, including mine. The porter gives me the key to my room, which is on a plastic tag with the room number, 41, written in magic marker. I open the door and see that the room is a mess. The porter apologizes and says he'll send the maid over right away. I've never seen such a filthy room - I can't understand how someone could get it in that condition. Even the toilet is clogged. (When I'm in a hotel I always clean the room before the maid arrives.) I ask the porter, "Is there a safe?" He says, oh yes, very safe. I say, I mean a small safe, to put away my stuff. He says, oh yes, your stuff is very safe. I say "Merci" and he goes to get the maid. I leave my clothes in the suitcase and take my backpack with me. I go to find M's room, but I'm lost. There are signs pointing here and there, but none for #20. I keep getting to dead ends. I see a man trimming the bushes. He stops and asks me what I'm looking for. I say, "I'm trying to find room number 20." He has a blank look. I'm trying to remember the French word for 20. All I can think of is veinte. He starts walking to the office and I tell him, never mind, because I just figured out where room #20 is - it's next to room #2, of course. __________________ Keep Your Bodies Off My Lawn SteveDallas's Random Thread Picker.

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