Outside the front gate of Christianville, you take an immediate right to go to Haiti Made, a local cafe, coffee and smoothie shop run by Americans.
An eighth of a mile down the rock strewn, bumpy, water puddled lane, that barely makes a foot path, is the landmark Old Well.
It is called old because it is a deep well drilled in the 1950’s when the Christianville Bible University occupied the hillside above the well. The University was taken out by one of Mother Nature’s hurricanes and all that is left of it is a concrete shell of a building at the top of the ridge, obscured by battered trees and beat down vegetation.
Often, at this well, there are vehicles, motorcycles pulled off the road while men and women fill yellow five gallon plastic jugs with water to take home. Along these little country backwaters, country people live and pipes to take water to all who need it isn’t here.
Watching a motorcycle bouncing down the country path, with its driver balancing seven or eight water filled jugs, is worth waiting for.
I splash water on my face, direct from the spigot.
If I lived here,I would be at this well, like everyone else.
We can do without lots of things, but water isn’t one of them.