An hour and forty seven minutes later we were in Miami. It still amazes me Haiti is so close. I got my morning exercise with the walk from the plane through the customs process..will I ever get there? The passengers from our flight carrying backpacks and dragging carry ons continued, not amazing the sniffing "Mitzi " dogs found nothing in our group..and no one was pulled out of line for a spot suitcase search through the customs line. It was like they knew. Who would want to open these dusty bags..who would want the dirty clothes or would have the need for notebooks of reports.
At the main terminal we were suddenly dispersed everyone going in different directions for connecting flights. When I found a small Cuban cafeteria with tables I sat and ordered a cup of coffee and three dinner rolls ( something I craved all week..don't ask me why). I looked at the crowd. There were families, couples, flight attendants busily chatting and eating quickly. I was deep in thought trying to begin to process my week and then I spotted something familiar.. a group of three middle age weary looking travelers and i looked down and sure enough ...my proof .....their shoes were covered in Haiti dust, we exchanged glances, nodded and I began to cry. I put on my sun glasses drank my coffee and realized this trip had an enormous affect on me.
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