Monday started awfully early. At 4:30 AM we were shaken out of our beds quite literally by a 4.7 magnitude "aftershock" (in any other place it would have been labeled an earthquake, but doesn't qualify compared to the Big One on January 12th). All things considered, a 4.7 gives you a pretty good shake when you're 8 miles or less from the epicenter.
Following a few calm nights (no tremors) in the tent, we had decided it was safe to go back inside the house to sleep. ("Jaws" theme, please) Awaking in pitch black we heard a rumbling noise. I was utterly disoriented, wrestling with our mosquito net, I clawed my way to the wall, and stumbled over luggage as the floor shook. Feeling for the door, I stumbled into the closet till Brian grabbed me. By that time the aftershock had ceased. We all made it outside without the help of any light to guide us. Since every Haitian we knew had already abandoned the idea of sleeping indoors, we were in great company standing in the driveway, looking at the house. No apparent damage, but no real desire to go back in. Just like in the movies, every animal in the neighborhood was announcing the strange event.
Tuesday night, there were more of us sleeping in the tent. Imagine our surprise when we woke up at 1:30 AM to a sloshing motion back and forth to yet another 4.7 magnitude shake. Same epicenter; 7-8 miles away. There were five or six more noticeable tremors througout the rest of the night. I shouldn't say "rest" of the night. There was none. (Sarah)