One year since the earthquake in Haiti

Almost three months since my last post. I'm almost through with a deadline, and I know I must again carve the time to keep my blog alive, but the main reason I'm writing today is that it is the first anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti. One year, already.

My husband spent again almost three weeks there in December, called again by UNICEF to help curb the terrible cholera outbreak that's claimed some 3500 lives, so far. And my niece, yesterday, posted a bleak, heartbreaking status on her Facebook page, lamenting the fact that nothing has really been done in the past year. It's easy to be engulfed by feelings of despair when it comes to the reality of the situation, there. And she, a child of 13, is smack in the middle of it. She saw one of her school friends die of cholera, in class, a few weeks back. 

There are many articles in the press, today, some lashing out at the UN, others trying to look for the positive and shreds of hope in the middle of all the misery. Yes, it seems that very little was done. Yes, people are still living in horrendous conditions, under tents or tarpaulins. Yes, indeed, where is all the money that came pouring out in the days and weeks that followed the earthquake ? What happened to all the promises made by so many governments across the world ? And I'm not even going to mention the political crisis with the recent disastrous presidential elections. 

And yet, there are also countless stories of uplifting displays of courage. The work of Doctors Without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières) since the earthquake, and during the ongoing cholera crisis - to point out only one - is nothing short of heroic. Everywhere, people are doing little or big things, helping out. 

http://www2.marketwire.com/mw/frame_mw?attachid=1477497

In the mist of all the press, good and bad, today, I would like to highlight a statement by the UNICEF head executive, Tony Lake, published in the Miami Herald, and an uplifting story printed in the New York Times. The Marché en fer rising again from the rubble and singing its freshly-painted bright colors in the sky of Port-au-Prince could be such a symbol of hope for a new Haiti...

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Man at Work

Twelve weeks today since the earthquake. Almost three months.

I hear that reconstruction has begun in parts of the capital Port au Prince. New little houses, probably prefabricated, are replacing rubbles here and there, and my sister in law, whom I mentioned in my post about Canapé Vert, here, reports that they're now living in the middle of a construction site : the school has been demolished, and so has the chapel, which was the only thing left standing after the quake, but I imagine no longer safe.

My husband is on his way back to India, after two months of working seven days a week, often 14 to 16 hours a day, in the difficult conditions that prevail in Haiti at the moment, and the only phone conversations we've had lately have been spoiled by our arguments, because I happen to harbor the ridiculous notion that after such an effort, he ought be given at least a week off. But it seems that I'm being unreasonable. Go figure...

Here he is, working away.

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Combing Hair

Eleven weeks since the earthquake, and almost two months since my husband left to go and help with the relief effort, there.

He recently had to go to the Dominican Republic to participate in a conference, in preparation for the big one to be held at the United Nations in New York, tomorrow. While there, his camera was stolen inside his bag, in the UNICEF office - in other words, a place that only UNICEF staff are likely to have access to. To say that he was upset and disgusted it to put it mildly. Luckily, I had asked him to email me some of his pictures, and he had, on that same day. Unfortunately, connexions being slow, he was only able to email a handful. Still, here are two of these pictures, the first one taken in Haiti, the second in the Dominican Republic. Two countries and two people sharing an island.

Everyone has been praising the amazing outpouring of help coming from the DR since day one... and counting. Amazing in light of the bloody history between the two countries. Scenes like this, and the generous response to the January 12 earthquake, make it possible to remember that, in spite of the bad blood, and in spite of the fact that one country is much better off than the other, Haiti and the DR share a lot more than a border.

Haiti : 10 Weeks

And this is the official We are The World video. One, because I don't think I can ever get tired of listening to that song. Two, because it features images of Haiti.

Haiti : We Are the World, 25 for Haiti

Insane week, here, which means I had no time for my weekly post on Haiti on Tuesday (nine weeks since the January 12 earthquake.) But I just came across this video. Enjoy...

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Fishing Boats

Eight weeks since the earthquake...

... and Sean Penn, who was Bill Maher's guest, on his show,  mentioned how Haiti is no longer mentioned in the news (as many people had predicted.)

He also spoke about the rains that have started, and what that means for the hundreds of thousands of Haitian people who live in refugee camps : diseases, floods, etc.

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Peristyle Vodou

The last time we were in Haiti, we spent some time in the southern city of Jacmel, as seen in previous posts. One afternoon, coming back from the beach, I spotted this sign on the side of the road, and immediately asked my husband to stop and turn around.

Anyone interested in Haiti knows that Vodou is omnipresent. Yet, it is also very secret, and shrouded in mystery. One routinely hears drums rumbling through the night and voices singing as a Vodou ceremony is performed somewhere in the vicinity. This is something I still hope I can witness some day, so I couldn't possibly pass by that sign openly advertising a Vodou temple without trying to find it. I was curious to see not only what it looked like, but mostly to feel the energy, there.

Except that the sign must have been for the initiates. We spent over an hour driving around, asking everyone we saw (and I don't mean me, the "blan" as Haitians call all foreigners - whether they are white or black, by the way - but my very Haitian and Creole-speaking husband.) People either sent us down roads leading nowhere, or stared blankly and shrugged, as if they'd never heard of a Vodou peristyle in the area.

Needless to say, we never found it. We had to leave Jacmel soon after that, so we didn't have time to further investigate. But I often think about it. Next time...

Seven weeks since the earthquake.

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Smile

This picture was taken on a beach outside of Jacmel. This young boy was walking around in the July heat with that Christmas hat on. I don't know where he'd found it, but he was obviously very pleased with it.

One thing we don't read much about in the news about Haiti is how its people are gifted with an indomitable sense of humor, and a profound joy for life.

A friend who is a doctor, and loves photography, took the picture below and posted it on his Facebook wall, a couple of days ago. (Merci, Jean-Robert.) It's the entrance of the camp that now covers the grounds of the Institution Saint Louis de Gonzague (where my husband did all his schooling.) in Port au Prince. "Welcome to Las Vegas," indeed.

Six weeks since the earthquake in Haiti, and the rains have come. Basic survival needs like water, food, shelter, medical care, sanitation and waste management continue to be at the forefront of the relief effort. But I also worry about the trauma suffered by so many people, especially children and teenagers. This organization Operation Safe (here) seems to have found a way to deal with that issue. I particularly liked the page on their website titled Eight Specific Ways to Pray for Haiti, (with a link to an update posted three weeks later), and the clear, practical, and informed way in which they approach the problems at hand.

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Canapé Vert

Canapé Vert is a neighborhood of Port au Prince, and this picture taken by my husband in the summer of 2008 shows how people built a slum on the side of the hill.

I searched the Internet, and found this picture of Canapé Vert taken after the earthquake, here. Rubbles and piles of concrete. More rubbles, and more piles of concrete. One of my sisters-in-law lives at the top at that hill, in a Catholic community. Their compound was destroyed almost completely (it seems that only the small chapelle did not suffer any damage.) They have been living outside for the past four weeks, along with some 3000 people.

A friend of mine in New York, told me how their community has been organizing charity events to raise money to send to a priest who opened a school in Port au Prince, a few years back.  My immediate concern was : please, tell them to not start building a concrete school with that money. Building with concrete in areas susceptible to earthquakes (and studies clearly indicate that there will be more) will only mean more deaths - provided that the Haitian people, after what they just went through, accept to actually enter and live in concrete buildings. My husband tells me that people have taken to sleeping in the streets. Rich or poor, when the sun sets, people take out mattresses and settle down in the streets for the night.

So, forget about concrete. It is possible to use bamboo to build houses and schools and basically anything : bamboo resists better to earthquakes, and it is environmentally friendly. When he left India, my husband had already gotten in touch with a company that built houses and schools in the Andaman islands, after the earthquake in 2002, and they said they could provide 10 000 schools within the next six months. Let's see if this gets implemented. Of course, this also means planting more and more bamboos in Haiti. It will take time. But it would also help with the deforestation problem (as seen here.)

In the meantime, people need food, water, shelter and medical care... Many of the refugee camps have no management, no help coming their way (and that includes the camp in Canapé Vert). So many people are working seven days a week, there, in really difficult conditions, but the magnitude of what needs to be done is such...

... and it's now been five weeks since the earthquake.

My Haiti Picture for today : Tap-Tap

The tap-tap is the most commonly used means of public transportation in Haiti. It could be a bus or a pick-up truck, they operate on a fixed route, and depart only when full. When you've reached your destination, you tap whatever surface available (ceiling, or side wall) to let the driver know that you want to get off.

To add a cheerful and artistic touch, their owners usually decorate them with bright paintings.  Here, we see the Haitian flag on the right, but also the American flag on the left. They often carry religious slogans or sayings. "L'Eternel est ma Lumière" says this one, which means : The Eternal is my Light.

I always say that no-one can pretend they have really visited a country if they never used at least one of the public transportations available. Moving from air-conditioned taxi to air-conditioned bus full of other tourists is no way to visit a country. One needs to travel with the locals. Yes, it's not always comfortable, but the experience is always interesting, and sometimes really fun. I remember one such trip in Northern Vietnam ; I was sitting next to an old gentleman who spent the entire trip telling me the most extraordinary jokes and stories in impeccable French.

During my first two trips to Haiti, I regularly hopped on tap-taps to take me around. And I'll never forget a tap-tap ride from the northern city of Cap-Haïtien to the village of Moustique, with so many people crowded on the benches of the pick-up truck as well as in the space meant for the legs in the middle that I actually had several kids sitting on my lap. Everyone was cheerful, and laughter bounced around - sometimes probably at my expense, as my Creole was extremely basic. No matter. It remains one of my most vivid memories of Haiti.

Four weeks since the earthquake.

My Haiti picture for today : Tropical Flowers

Three weeks since the earthquake.

My husband is leaving for Haiti, tomorrow, to help with the UNICEF relief effort there. He's been asked to come with a tent, Swiss army knife, flashlight, sleeping bag and antibiotics. One of his colleagues who's been there for almost two weeks has been sleeping in a car. Not that they're complaining.

I know he's been on pins and needles ever since the news of the earthquake reached us, waiting, waiting, waiting for the call to go. Our 5 and half years old daughter told him : "Two months is too long. You come back after one month, OK?" And then, she added : "So, I'll see you on Wednesday?" Time is still a hazy, confusing notion for her, but I know that she will find the time very, very long indeed - as we all will. Her dad often travels, but he's never been gone for so long.

This week's picture was taken in my mother-in-law's garden in Fermathe, and I'm posting it for my husband who loves flowers. It's called Heliconia Pendula. Aren't they beautiful?

My Tuesday picture of Haiti : Jacmel's heritage.

Two weeks since the earthquake hit Haiti. The death toll has topped 150 000 in the Port au Prince area alone. I have not seen any numbers regarding smaller places like Leogane or Jacmel. I will continue to write a post about Haiti, or simply publish a picture, each Tuesday - a small gesture that symbolizes my hope that the world does not forget about the tragedy, there, as it often happens, once news starts getting a bit old.

This beautiful house stood just across the street from a similar (in style) that my sister in law rented in Old Jacmel (it is now a pile of rubble). It is a hotel (I wondered about using the past or the present tense, but having seen some pictures of old houses still standing, I'll stick to the present) with quaint rooms, and a decidedly Haitian flair. The perfect boutique hotel ; nothing luxurious, very simple, in fact, yet comfortable. Most of all, every inch of the place oozes charm and character, which is my chosen criteria when looking for a place to stay. I'd rather have character, history, and less comfort, than luxury in a place with no soul.

Everyone is talking about the reconstruction effort in Haïti. As the days turn into weeks, and hope to find more survivors dwindle and die, I have one wish. Please, please, try and rebuild Haiti with structures and houses that can resist earthquakes, of course, but while doing it, remember the country's beautiful architectural heritage and style.

The gorgeous iron-wrought stairs inside the hotel.

Haiti's Picture of the Day : Playing Cards

This picture was taken in the cemetery of Jacmel. I had gotten it into my head that we had to visit it (maybe after reading Edwige Danticat's After the Dance), but we took a longer route starting from the beach, and when we reached it, the sun was already low in the sky. This was during our last visit to Haiti, in July 2008. We went in, anyway...

The place was quiet, beautiful, and mysterious, an abundant vegetation growing over the tombs and climbing the walls of the family vaults.

A group of men was playing cards, maybe "bézigue," which is a card game that my husband has tried to teach me, quite unsuccessfully. They were using a tomb as their table.  See the second man on the left ? He has a wooden cloth peg pinched on the top of his nose, which means he had lost the last game. The next player to loose will inherit the cloth peg.

The Spirit of Haiti

Excerpt from a message sent by my sister-in-law, in Jacmel, to her family and friends, via Facebook (as an aside, someone, some day, ought to write a thesis or something on the extraordinary role of Facebook, during this tragedy) :


"Early by 5:00 am every morning, for two hours there are like 500 - 600 people on the streets singing religious songs, dancing and blessing God for being alive. It is like a parade, the local way of healing their pain, it is vey impressive. A real therapy for these victims which have lost everything except their Faith. "

My Haiti Picture for today : Avocados

Avocados and other fruits for sale along the road from Jacmel to Port-au-Prince.
Avocados are a staple of the Haitian diet, and it's no wonder, because they are beautiful over there. After almost six years in India, where avocados tend to rot from the inside out, mysteriously going from being too hard to being just good for the rubbish, we often dream of the "avoca bè", as it is called in Créole - "bè" pronounced with an open "a"  like the beginning of the word "area" - meaning butter. One can just imagine the knife slicing effortlessly through the pale flesh, as it would through butter.

Haïti is special.

As a writer, it is little wonder that I first fell in love with Haiti through its literature. Jacques Stephen Alexis and his "Romancero aux Etoiles" just rocked my world. The language was luscious, musical, and magic. I had discovered the "réalisme merveilleux." As an interesting aside, I searched the Internet to link to a wikipedia article in English about "magic realism", and found zero mention of Haitian writers. Latin American authors like Alejo Carpentier, who coined the term "real maravilloso", and Gabriel Garcia Marquez and his "Hundred Years of Solitude," as well as Isabel Allende or Jose Luis Borges are all there, as they should be. But not one Haitian author. Why ?

Having recently moved to New York, I didn't quite know how to find other works by Haitian authors, in French, but a friend found several books for me (that friend is Haitian, and has since become my husband) : "Général Compère Soleil" (translated into English as "General Sun, My Brother"), "L'espace d'un cillement..." And then, Jacques Roumain and his "Gouverneurs de la Rosée." (Masters of the Dew.")

These were the years 1994 and 1995 : Aristide had just been restored as President, with the help of the Clinton administration.  I started reading about Haiti's history, equally astounded and ashamed that during all my school years in France I had never heard anything about Haiti. Why ? This little country which shared the island of Hispaniola with the Dominican Republic had once been the richest French colony, "The Pearl of The Antilles," and they had kicked us out of there, too. Is that the reason French children don't see it mentioned in their history books ?

The history of the Haitian Revolution is extraordinary (Madison Smartt Bell has written a beautiful trilogy of historical novels about it : "All Souls Rising," "Master of The Crossroads," and "The Stone that The Builder Refused."

Haiti was the first independent nation in Latin America ! It was the second independent nation in the New World after the United States of America ! It was the first nation in the world to gain its independence from colonial rule through a successful slave rebellion, on January 1, 1804 !

Unfortunately, this remarkable victory was followed by a history fraught with struggle, turmoil, coups d'état, and more abuse from countries like France -  in the way of debts supposed to repay for the loss of profits from the slave trade (as if the Haitian people had not already paid enough with their work and their blood during the atrocious colonial rule) - the Dominican Republic - with its 1937 massacre of Haitian emigrants. (read Edwige Danticat's beautiful novel, The Farming of Bones) - but most of all, the US - with its occupation of Haiti from 1915 until 1934, or its shady involvement in coups from people they supported. You can find out more about the role of the U.S. in Haiti's history in Naom Chomsky's paper "The Tragedy of Haiti" or this more recent article published in the San Francisco BayView about "How the U.S. impoverished Haiti." Another bone-chilling perspective on the way the U.S. deals with Haitians can be found in Edwige Danticat's haunting memoir, "Brother, I'm Dying," where she describes the inhuman treatment that, to this day, befalls Haitian people seeking asylum in Florida. For years, Cubans have only had to set foot on US soil to be welcomed as political refugees. But if you're Haitian, you get sent to the Chrome detention center ! Why?

I couldn't stop reading about Haiti. Books about the Duvalier dictatorship. About Jean-Bertrand Aristide, and how this charismatic priest carried so much hope at the time. And more novels from Haitian authors : René Dépestre, Emile Ollivier, Louis Philippe d'Alembert, Marie-Vieux Chauvet... And then, as of 1996, Edwige Danticat...

In October 1997, I went to Haiti for the first time with Dr Belenky, his wife, renowned developmental psychologist and author Mary Belenky, and a group of volunteers. In the span of three weeks, I lived and experienced more things than anyone does in a whole lifetime : I rode tap-taps and spent time with children in an orphanage ; I travelled to Cap Haitien, slept on the concrete floor of an empty house in the little village of Moustique, and visited la Citadelle, le Palais Sans-Souci, and Cap Haitien ; I walked the dusty streets of Port au Prince, and travelled by bus to the beautiful town of Jacmel and its black sand beach (of which I brought some back.) Incidentally, I also finished a translation, and because I walked past dark with my laptop, I was held at gun point, twice in a few days. But even that could not spoil my experience.

Haiti is so much more than the "poorest country in the Western hemisphere," which is what one reads, usually in the first paragraph, whenever there is a piece of news about Haiti.

Haiti is a vibrant country with an extraordinary cultural heritage. Music that makes you want to sing, and dance. Literature that transports you, as mentioned above. And, last but not least, there is Haitian art : painting, sculpture, vodoo flags. (The picture below was taken in a street of Petionville, a suburb of Port-au-Prince. I always marvel at the talent of Haitians for visual arts. Give some paint, a brush and a canvas to almost any Haitian, and they will create something beautiful.)

Haitian people are joyful, and dignified. They are beautiful, spiritual, strong, resilient and resourceful. The country, in spite of erosion, hardship, and abject poverty, is gorgeous, its potential, enormous. Just ask the Americans who go on Caribbean cruises and stop at Labadie, a beach in the north of the country. More often that not, the tourists spend a day of leisure there, enjoying the white sand, the crystal clear water, and eating lobster, and they have no idea that they are in Haiti. Nor are they told that a few kilometers away stands the amazing Citadelle Laferrière, a world heritage site, the ruins of the Palais Sans-Souci, and the interesting city of Cap-Haïtien.

Recently, Bill Clinton was appointed as the UN Special Envoy for Haiti. Security had improved, and things were looking up. The country was still poor, there was still a staggering amount of work to do, but there was also a renewed feeling of hope - something that had not been experienced in years. And suddenly, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake strikes !!?? It is tempting to look up at the sky and, again, cry : WHY?

But it doesn't resolve anything. In the midst of all the devastation - and because I'm sitting far away, safe, and well fed, and feeling hopelessly useless, I'm very much aware of that - I want to try and search for ways and reasons to think positively.

Clinton wrote an essay in The Time about how to better direct the efforts, and his words do reflect the kind of hope that all people concerned with Haiti and its people can cling to, I think. The earthquake hit Port au Prince and areas around it all the way to the picturesque town of Jacmel, but the rest of the country is as usual. If only the people who move to PAP in hopes to find a job and a better life decide to go back home, now that there is nothing much left in the capital city, and the efforts to develop the north, with its amazing touristic potential, can be focused on and sustained, might all that suffering turn out to not have been totally in vain ? Both my husband and I were thinking aloud, yesterday, and he said : maybe they should build a new capital elsewhere, somewhere there is nothing, like in the center of the country. From scratch. It would decentralize the whole government, help develop areas which are empty and unused, decongest Port au Prince... Well, these are thoughts...


The tremendous outpouring of sympathy and good will is comforting ; as is Obama's strong decisions to send massive help. Both Clintons are very attached to Haiti. Let us hope that all the money and help coming from all over the world doesn't dwindle in a week or two, once the news starts getting old. The efforts need to be sustained in the long term. Maybe, then, a stronger Haiti can raise from it own ashes, and the world would finally get to see what all those who've spent time there already know. Haiti is very, very special. 


To prove it, I'll be posting pictures that we have taken during our times there, over the years. Pictures that will show something different from what most people see when they're shown Haiti on TV. The Haiti that we love. And I'll continue to do that for a while, in the hope that the situation will not be forgotten again in a few weeks or even months...

A little cove just outside of Jacmel, in the South East region of Haiti.

Bassin Bleu, in the hills above Jacmel. You have to hike a little to reach this pretty waterfall, and local guides take you there. The place is pristine, empty, and the water crystal clear (and cold!). It's magic.