The Texaco station on the hill had been open only an hour Sunday and already it was a mob scene.
Trucks with 50-gallon tanks vied for space near the pumps alongside young men on motorcycles. Sedans and SUVS battled to nose their way forward. Scores of walkers carting buckets, plastic containers — anything that could hold liquid — jostled to be next in the melee that passed for a line.
If anything stands in the way of aid agencies being able to get supplies to Haitians, and Haitians returning to some semblance of normal life, it is gasoline.
Without it, there is no light at night, no chance of businesses reopening, no way for doctors to get to hospitals. And like everything in Haiti today, getting it is a struggle.
Even gas station owners are not immune. “Dead. On ‘E,'” said the owner of a Sol station, who gave his name only as Maurice.
At another Texaco station, police stood by as crowds pressed in. Asked how anyone reached the front, one young man waved a few dollars.
“If you do things honestly in Haiti without giving someone some money, you’ll never get service,” he said, handing over the cash.