Haiti: June 19, 2009 -- Road Trip Continues

Today we drove our 4-wheel-drive rental truck from Saint-Marc to Gonaives (24 miles) and then back to Port-au-Prince. (72 miles), with barely any stops. While I drove, Andre snapped a lot of these photos on the fly. On a U.S. freeway, this distance might take two hours, but because of the condition of the roads in Haiti -- even this route, the country's main highway -- it took us the entire day and evening, with barely any stops. Everyone warned me not to attempt this journey, but I had heard so much about how hard hit Gonaives was during the series of hurricanes in September 2008. I was curious to see what remained of the damage. Actually, the highway itself, was one of the casualties.

Our day began in the Saint-Marc hotel pool, with a leisurely take-off around 9:00. The road was mostly rocky and pot-holed, with mud and flooding in parts, and even some good stretches where we could work up some speed. We passed rustic huts, rice fields, markets, and cemeteries, with empty stretches of coast on the left and tall hills to the right. In Haiti there's a saying, "Mountains beyond mountains," which pretty much sums up their terrain. It also means that behind every challenge is yet another.



Up until the 1980s, Haiti used to be self-sufficient in their rice production. Today most of it is imported from the U.S. at cheaper prices than they can grow it themselves.

Due to our slow and difficult progress, we barely had time to stop anywhere. Suddenly, Andre ordered me to a halt. I thought he had to pee badly. But instead he had spotted a young girl with a basket of sweet mangoes for sale. He bought half a dozen and offered some to the rest of us. When no one took up his offer, Andre proceeded to eat all six by himself. Later on the way back, he searched and searched for the same vendor, but no luck.


Andre was so happy to be in Haiti during mango season. He ate a half dozen a day. But these that he bought on the way to Gonaives were his favorites. On the right, Andre and his brother Reginald washed the mangos at a well.

Here are more scenes along the way:

It was interesting how they put collars on the goats so they couldn't get through the fences.







This is charcoal for sale.


GONAIVES

We arrived in Gonaives (with a population at the hottest time of day. After parking the truck by the plaza, we finally got to stretch our legs and walk around. All four guys attempted to climb a statue in the center of the plaza, but only Coach and Andre made it to the top. A few soldiers were posted on the top of a building facing the square, with their weapons ready, but overall downtown Gonaives looked busy, but mellow...just a sleepy town compared to Port-au-Prince.






Haitian heroes of Independence: Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Capois La Mort, Toussaint L'Ouverture

"By overthrowing me, you have succeeded in cutting down the tree of liberty of the blacks in Santo Domingo but have failed to destroy the roots that are deep and strong. The tree will grow again." -- Toussaint L'Ouverture

There were some signs of the massive flooding that happened last fall from all the hurricanes. Here a couple of aerial photos from the internet to show what it looked like before:





There's still more clean-up to do:








But overall, Gonaives looks like a regular Haitian city these days, with all the usual activity, markets, pedestrians, school kids in uniform, traffic, and a mix of old and new architecture.







When Jean-Milaud and Coach stopped to wash their hands, they met two little schoolgirls. The girls spotted me taking their picture, so they dodged the slow-moving traffic to come ask me to take their picture again.


In the market, I noticed some bags of possibly cornmeal marked "U.S.AID From The American People." Our friend Khadija used to work as a nurse for U.S.AID Haiti, but has since been transferred to Sudan, Africa and now Bangladesh. I've seen this before in the third world, where U.S. donations end up being sold rather than given to the people. Corruption always infuriates me, the naive American.



After walking around in the heat, we were famished. We found a cute little cafe and ordered five plates of fish, rice, and fried bananas. When I asked to use the bathroom, the waitress hesitated. "Okay, follow me," she said in Creole. We went out back and around the building, until we reached an outdoor concrete shower. A young woman was bathing. She moved over to make room for me. I squatted and peed, thanked her, and wound my way back alone. Some young people called out to me. One of them knew a little English, which he was eager to show off. A beautiful young girl in a pink blouse asked me to take her picture, which I was more than happy to do. Her portrait is one of my favorite pictures from this trip. On the way back to the truck we ran into a rap star who Jean-Milaud, also a musician, recognized. We had fun taking pictures with him. Jean-Milaud gave him a copy of his CD.





By then, it was getting late and we had to start back for Port-au-Prince, mostly without stopping.




These kids are heading home after a day at work.

About sunset, a collapsed bridge caused us to detour along a small beach. My hands were cramping from gripping the steering wheel so long and my knees ached from changing gears, so I suggested we stop for 5 minutes, even though Port-au-Prince was still several hours away. A trio of cutie pies came running up, chanting "Blan, fe fotom" (white person, take a photo of me), which I obliged.






We arrived in Port-au-Prince after dark. It had been a long day, but worth it.

Haiti: June 18, 2009 -- Road Trip to Saint Marc

Election Day in Haiti. Most Haitians boycotted the elections because they call them a joke. Some of the political parties, such as Aristides' supporters, the Lavalas Family Party, were banned from participating in the election.


A creative barber shop that we saw as we were stuck in traffic leaving Port-au-Prince. It must have taken about 45 minutes or an hour just to get out of town.


I shot this picture from our rental truck. I'm not sure what's going on, like why the guy is carrying this woman or why the other guy is running. The flags are up for election day.


My goal was to drive up the coast as far as Gonaives so we could see the damage from the hurricanes of 2008, such as Ike, Hanna, Gustav and Fay, which battered Haiti. We started seeing destruction even before arriving in Gonaives.


We passed many beautiful beaches, mostly empty like this one.


Our companions on the road trip -- a neighbor named Jean-Milaud, our buddy "Coach" and Andre's younger brother Reginald.


Here are Reginald, Jean-Milaud, Andre and Coach at the Moulin Sur Mer resort where we paid $15 each for the day, $10 of which was given back in food and drink credit. The resort was built was built in the early 1800s as a sugar plantation. Their website claims they have 63 air-conditioned rooms, but the only guests we saw were two couples, the guys were living in Brooklyn, NY and their "girlfriends" were local women.


The small beach and warm coastal waters were wonderful.



Andre and Jean-Milaud relaxing in the ocean.


This sailing boat was bringing charcoal down from Saint-Marc to sell in Port-au-Prince for cooking. Natural or propane gas is too expensive, but using charcoal has resulted in 95% deforestation in the country of Haiti.


Reginald, Andre's younger brother, doesn't know how to swim, but he enjoys the water.


The pool and the food were both very nice at Moulin Sur Mer. Their website says it's just 1 hour from the airport, but that would be possible only if there weren't any other cars, buses, motorcycles, tap-taps on the road. I'm sure it took us at least 2 or 3 hours.


The highlight for Andre and me was a beautiful 3-wall outdoor racquetball court. We asked to borrow the racquets and balls, which were first quality and seemed to be never used. This was only the second racquetball court we've seen in Haiti. The other one was also a 3-wall court in Port-au-Prince at the Coconut Villa Hotel. But they wouldn't even let us hit one ball there, even though we gave them some old racquets and balls as a gift. Their court wasn't even half as nice as this one at the Moulin Sur Mer.


Typical transportation - tap-taps - in Haiti. You can't really see from this small picture, but there is damage from last year's flooding and hurricanes on the right side of the picture.



U.N. trucks and soldiers, called MINUSTAH, are everywhere, but Andre keeps warning me not to photograph them. He's afraid they'll mistake my camera for a weapon and shoot me. I shot this picture "from the hip." Since the U.N. presence is so huge there, I didn't feel my blogging would be complete without one shot of the "peacekeepers."


Wash Day in Haiti, on the way to Saint-Marc.


Watermelon market. We bought one on the way back to Port-au-Prince for Andre's family.

Haiti: June 17, 2009 -- Maya's 12th Birthday

I felt it was auspicious to see this lottery ticket booth named Maya Loto, featuring a cute girl with lots of hair.

Today would have been my daughter Maya's 12th birthday, so appropriately we struck out on an adventure in her honor.

This was my third trip to Haiti. Every time I've suggested we visit Duval, the mountain village where Andre grew up with his grandparents. And every time, Andre answered that it's too difficult to get there. Most of the locals take tap-taps (small pick-ups crammed with passengers) to a junction on the main road before Kenscoff, then walk two hours over a rocky road.

When Andre's teenage cousin Ricardo set out to make the journey home to Duval I suggested we accompany him, but Andre insisted we couldn't do it. He has no idea how I've traveled in the past. I've survived 30-hour bus rides, ridden on the rooftop of buses, rode an elephant for four hours on a wooden saddle that pinched my butt, hitch-hiked from Gaza Strip to Tel Aviv, crossed illegally by canoe into Colombia from Panama, packed in with Coca-Cola bottles, rode on top of bloody sacks of butchered meat in the Andes, braved a military coupe in Cairo to put my Oma on a train to visit the pyramids, rode in an ancient Russian plane that looked like it should have been retired decades ago, took the world's slowest train in Guatemala for 23 hours with no lights after dark, packed into the Mexico City metro so tight that I couldn't move my hands to defend myself against gropers, entered Burma illegally by boat by bribing guerilla soldiers, etc. etc. etc.

As a compromise, I agreed to rent a 4-wheel-drive truck to make the journey. I almost backed out when I found out that the truck costs $135 a day. But in the end, I had to do it -- for Maya's sake. I always spent way too much money on her birthdays. Why should this year be any different?

Andre's stepdad Mathieu who grew up in Duval came along as our guide, plus Andre's brother Johnny and cousin Sherley. They were all impressed that I could drive. And driving in Haiti is not like driving in the U.S. Between the kamakazes and the rough roads, you have to keep both eyes open at all times.

Actually, it was fun to have the truck because I got to play taxi. A couple of school kids flagged us down on the main road. By the time I stopped, dozens hopped in for the free ride. Each kid took turns knocking on the cab to signal for me to stop. At least they were sweet enough to come up to the window and say "merci" for the ride.

Nice views all along the mountain route to Duval.

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We picked up lots of school kids along the way. That's Andre's brother Johnny, the police man, who came along as our bodyguard (haha)


Andre asked me to pull over so he could buy his favorite bread. For me, it was kind of hard and dry, but the cinnamon stick gave it a nice flavor. Andre admitted that he too would hitch a ride to school, then spend his bus fare on snacks, like this bread.


Mathieu suggested we stop for lunch at Mission Bautiste, our last chance to buy anything. I liked their gift shop too. I picked up a "Bib La" in Creole, as well as some hand-painted tap-tap refrigerator magnets, post cards, and a colorful hand-painted metal toilet paper holder for my back bathroom. The gift shop and cafe were filled with young American missionaries. The cafe featured American-style fast food, which was a treat for everyone except me. The best part was the incredible view of the green terraced mountains.

We also visited a small museum and zoo at the mission. I enjoyed the museum a lot, but the zoo was a little sad. Only the rabbits and guinea pigs (another reminder of Maya) looked happy and healthy. Andre suggested we build ourselves a vacation home in that village in the future. Not a bad idea.



This was obviously an old tourism poster of the Citadelle which we visited in Feb. 2008. Since all the military coupes the number of foreign tourists in Haiti has gone down to almost zero. Most foreigners in the country are missionaries, UN soldiers, US and Canadian embassy employees, and charity workers.


The original inhabitants of the island of Hispaniola (today shared by Dominican Republic and Haiti) were called Tainos. The Spanish managed to kill off nearly all of them.



The museum featured lots of nice folk art, historic documents and photos, archaeological artifacts, etc. Check out the tap-tap below:

This toy helicopter commemorates the 1997 invasion of the American Marines, ordered by President Clinton. For many Haitians, the Marines were seen as heroes and saviors. Today Clinton has returned to Haiti as an ambassador.


Voodoo is a popular religion in Haiti, with deep African roots. Andre's family is Christian, so they don't practice voodoo.



It was appropriate on Maya's birthday to see some guinea pigs. She used to have three of them. Her favorite was named Kiara. I had guinea pigs as a child too.


We all piled back into the truck and headed up the road. Once we turned off onto the rocky, muddy road, I was happy to have the 4-wheel-drive. I learned that besides walking to Duval you can also take a motorcycle taxi, driven by teenage boys. That would have been fun. We helped some old ladies with the heavy loads they carry on their heads. Finally, we reached a point where even our monster truck could go no farther, so we got to walk a big loop through village houses. I had bought six-dozen children's toothbrushes at a discount from my dentist ahead of time, so I had fun giving those away to all the kids we passed. They were very grateful.


Here's Andre passing out some of the 6-dozen children's toothbrushes we brought along to give away.


The view of a church in neighboring village Griffith. We parked the truck just beyond the church and walked the rest of the way. This is where Andre used to attend primary school.


Duval-grown coffee, used as medicine as well as a hot drink.


Duval is a mountain paradise -- cool, fresh air, rich fertile soil, with awesome views of Port-au-Prince and the Caribbean Sea. They grow a variety of crops, mostly for their own use: bananas, corn, mangos, cabbage, tomatoes, chives, coffee. But fewer people live there now than when Andre was growing up in the late 1970s and 1980s.


Here's Andre's stepfather Mathieu, posing in front of the stone house he grew up in.


Here's one of Mathieu's sisters-in-law.


Andre, me, and Matheiu on the land where Matheiu grew up in Duval village.



We stopped in to visit one of Mathieu's relatives named Constance. He asked who I was and Mathieu answered that I was Andre's "madame." They spoke in Creole, of course, but now I can understand more than before.


Johnny with Contance's "madame."

We stopped in and visited a few of Mathieu's relatives before eventually reaching Andre's grandpa's land. The only family living there now is Ricardo's mother, grandma and siblings. His father, Andre's favorite uncle, had been brutally murdered over the inheritance when Andre's grandpa died. His widow and her mother are raising the four kids, two of whom live with Andre's mom in Port-au-Prince during the school year. When Andre was growing up, there was a one-room school house about 20 minutes away by foot. Now the primary school kids go to a bigger school much farther away, but they still have to walk. But there's no high school in the villages.


Andre's aunt and her kids still live on the grandfather's land in Duval.



The view from Andre's grandfather's property. The original house no longer exists. You can't see it in this picture, but that's Port-au-Prince, the capitol of Haiti, below, and the Caribbean Sea beyond.


Everyone in the village remembers Andre even though he hadn't been back in 7 years. This young woman below was just a child when Andre was living in Duval. Now she has two kids of her own.



I could tell right away that this man, Daniel, is Mathieu's brother, and father of Andre's cousin Peter who I met in Santo Domingo.


The afternoon thunderstorms almost caught us, but we reached our truck just in time. I had to admit that, despite the inflated price, the truck was a good idea.