On Moving to Haiti (Again)

Hello!  I'm back in Haiti!  My second welcome was not, I hope, an omen of what the next two years will be like:
 - There was a lady in my seat when I boarded the plane.  I showed her my boarding pass.  She claimed that she had to sit in my seat and the flight attendant could sort me out.  She then changed her story and said someone was in her seat and so she was going to be in my seat and I would have to wait for the flight attendant to come along.  I pointed out to her that she was perpetuating against me the exact problem she claimed to be experiencing.  Her response: "Yes, we both have a problem.  You must wait."  Her compatriots made it their business to know what was going on and bullied her in Kreyol until she vacated my seat.  I need to learn how to bully in Kreyol (Jhonny?).

- There are a few changes to the airport!  They have now created a combination arrivals hall/spa (sauna, specifically)/scavenger hunt [for documents that no one has]/full contact steeple chase for luggage.  I think I lost five pounds in addition to the two hours of my life I spent there.

- I attempted to follow the route my driver took from the airport to the office for a full 45 seconds before the 15 turns he took made my efforts futile.  Port-au-Prince is a city of backstreets.  Between avoiding traffic and avoiding streets with rubble, our drivers seem unable to maintain a straight course for more than two blocks.  I dread having to drive myself for the first time.

- I had several conversations with my boss in the past 6 weeks about where I wanted to live.  Each time, my side of the dialog went something like this, "In the apartment."  No hesitation.  I was baffled that my answer never seemed to stick in her head, as if she had never before asked me (she's got a few things on her mind).  So I wasn't surprised to find, when I arrived today, that a) my boss had removed all her furniture from the apartment but the building had not replaced it with their stock furniture, b) no one had informed the consultant who was living there that he would not be living there after his one week vacation (he returned today, too), c) no one considered that the kitchen is bare of such things as forks, plates, glasses, plots or, uhm, anything else, d) I have no house key, and c) my wireless internet is very much wired.  With a 12 inch cable. So it's a good thing I don't have chairs to sit on because the cord doesn't extend long enough to reach me.

- The consultant, as he wheeled his suitcase out of the apartment today, informed me of high drama at work which he seems to think I'll be instrumental in resolving even though I didn't understand half of what he was saying.

- Several personal packages arrived for me while I was away, all of which were opened by the HR lady (I hope she encountered used undergarments).  One small one contained a ratty, disgusting alligator named Karl.  I gave Karl to my friend, Annie, before she went to Peace Corps in Cameroun.  He has been drooled, snotted, and cried upon and lord knows what else for the past 9 years.  His fur has been loved off in some places.  He is badly-behaved, always hungry, and awfully good company when things get tough.  Hope he didn't bite anybody here when they opened his box.  Thanks, Annie.