Betty Shearman rscj  | |
As I write, I am once again at Villa Manrèse, the retreat house in Port-au-Prince where I spent my first week in Haiti exactly a year ago. I can’t help noticing the changes that have occurred within and around me during these past twelve months.
For one thing, I am no longer afraid to drive here. It took a very long time to overcome the heart-pounding certainty that someone was going to just plow right into us in the chaotic mix of pedestrians, motorbikes, bicycles, farm animals and overloaded tap-taps (pick ups that serve as taxis). But when Judy twisted her ankle in October while Matilde was out of the country, I had to fill in. Much to my astonishment, I discovered that in the absence of functioning street lights, traffic cops, stop signs, guard rails and predictable road conditions Haitian drivers have developed a sense of fair play and courtesy that makes it possible for everyone to get where they need to go. On more than one occasion I have seen total strangers leap to the aid of some poor driver who managed to get a wheel stuck in an uncovered manhole. Other times I have approached an intersection which seems hopelessly grid locked and noticed young men who have simply jumped out of their truck to help untangle the mess. Even more amazing is the fact that everyone surrenders to their arbitration, sometimes giving them a small tip but more often just a smile of thanks. Of course, there are exceptions, as in the case of the overbearing (and terribly overcrowded) public busses that travel at breakneck speed between major cities, blaring their horns to warn other drivers to get off the road and let them pass. They are the cause of many of the deadly accidents that regularly occur here.
Another change that gives me great satisfaction is my growing ability to understand and speak Creole. At Mass today the priest gave a long homily full of references to Kreole proverbs and humorous examples of temptations he had met and overcome in his own life. I found myself laughing along with everyone else at all the right places, despite his rapid fire delivery. On the other hand, I have lost all ability to speak French. I usually understand it when spoken and my ability to read it is increasing but when I open my mouth, only Kreole comes out. Since I still have some work to do on my Kreole grammar and vocabulary, I’m not going to do anything about this odd condition right now. But hopefully next year at this time I will be able to communicate again with the many French speakers who come to Villa Manrèse. I have also noticed that my spoken English gets rather odd at times, as when I ask Judy “Is it for me to descend here?” meaning “Do you want me to turn and go down hill here?”
There are other changes that leave me feeling very ambivalent. When I first arrived here, the streets downtown were full of children begging to wipe the dust off our Toyota in exchange for a few coins. We would often joke with them, sometimes give them a piece of hard candy. But now, because of the increase in car-jackings and political violence, we avoid the inner city entirely. When we are approached by someone asking for money, we are less likely to roll down our window. And, on one recent occasion when I was sitting by myself in the Toyota waiting for the others to finish an errand, a series of people approached me and the exchanges ranged from good natured to down right hostile. The child did not want the piece of candy I could offer him (he wanted money) and the woman who was begging for money to buy food for her children would not, understandably, believe that I did not have money to give her. In Verrettes, where people know us, we are solicited in more subtle ways. They know that we DO provide valuable services to lots of children and adults through our program and they are more willing to let us off the hook when we say no to direct begging. But in Port-au-Prince we are just rich white women driving around in our expensive, air-conditioned car. They see us go into DeliMart, where all the rich people shop and see us come out with boxes of canned goods and ”luxuries” like corn flakes and cookies. Compared to the way they live, we ARE rich. I have no trouble understanding the resentment of the very poor. What astonishes me is how often they choose to treat us with kindness, even when we don’t give them anything of material value.
Optimist that I am, I would like to believe that conditions have improved here over the past year. After all, we have the UN troops to help us maintain order, a provisional government that has started picking up the garbage and repairing a few major roads (including the one that leads from St. Marc to Pont Sonde on the way to our house!), and the movers and shakers in Verrettes and nearby DesChapelles are forming their own Rotary Club to help sponsor needed community improvements. However people who have been here a long time are quick to remind me that the national debt of Haiti increases by some incredible amount each day that the UN remains, that the elections promised for this November are bound to be violent and that the level of malnutrition and general misery has grown steadily worse over the past thirty years. People now look on the Duvalier years as the “good old days”!
Recently I have had the chance read three books that offer very interesting perspectives on the Haitian reality. One, Song of Haiti, (Can’t remember the auther) tells how Larry and Gwen Mellon came to found the Albert Schweitzer Hospital in Deschapel. Since this hospital is such a huge influence in the area around Verrettes, it was particularly interesting to me. The second, All Souls Rising (by Madison Smartt Bell) is an extraordinarily well-written book which provides deep insight into the character of Toussaint L’Overture and the brutal realities of Colonial Haiti. The last is Caribbean (by James Michner) a long but thoroughly enjoyable read which gives a broader sense of Caribbean history. For a Bostonian, who used to think of Rt. 128 as the outer edge of the civilized world, it is a wonderful thing to begin to see the beauty and complexity of another corner of the world. I refuse to believe that Haiti is forever doomed to her current position as poorest country in the western hemisphere. There have been other socio-political miracles. Look at Ireland or China. Or imagine what Cuba could become if the US ever lifted its embargo. In the meantime, I am happy to place my energy at the service of a people who refuse to give up hope, despite their most violent and discouraging history.
Diane Roche rscj
Province of the United States
Serving in Verrettes, Haiti
