18 January 2010 – Sosua, Dominican Republic
Relaxed in Sosua. Made up my mind to return to the boat and return to sailing. Haiti has been a great experience and I have been lucky to see more than most in my short time here, but in the end, Haiti is not a good place. A slow, steady physical decline through poor food and filth, the constant threat of catastrophic illness or injury without appropriate medical facilities, a continuous frustration with the unproductive culture, and a pervasive social stigma based on my skin color and fueled by primitive attitudes make it clear that the future lies elsewhere. Avoidance of personal responsibility is a big factor in Haitian culture. Voodoo and various superstitions are convenient explanatory mechanisms to avoid taking personal or societal responsibility for their actions and overall condition. I am convinced that personal and societal identity are key to our functioning in life. Unfortunately, this programming is so deep that we lack humane methods of effective change.
19 January 2010 – Return to Cap-Haitien, Haiti
Boarded a bus to Santiago, Domican Republic, and then another to Cap-Haitien, Haiti, and marveled at how modern the buses were. The Dominicans have a talent for organization that really shines in their public transportation. Their motorcycles, taxis, mini-buses, and big buses are so well integrated that you can quickly travel on pocket change to almost anywhere in the country and walk no more than 10 steps. America should hire a Dominican to fix our public transportation system. Arriving in Cap-Haitien, Haiti, the ultra-modern bus slid through filthy crowds of people in the streets. Their mood was bad and people were showing their middle finger to my white face. Ate supper near the bus station at Kokiaje, one of Cap-Haitien’s better restaurants. Decent food, but the service is pathetically slow and their last act is always a slow walk downstairs to stand in the grocery store cashier line to get your change.
20 January 2010 – Back to Labadie, Haiti
Woke up at Hotel Imperial after a night of wrestling mosquitos and no-see-ums, smelling rotten sewage from the poor plumbing, and sweating profusely. High-tech businesses, such as banks, laundromats, and Internet cafes were closed, but the street people seemed comfortable with their societal lurch back toward the Stone Age. I boarded a tap-tap to Labadie. We only had 18 people and baggage in the Toyota pickup, so it was a good ride, with only one near-disaster when the truck slipped out of gear by the top of the worst hill. Nearing Labadie, I marveled once again at someone’s attempt to pour waste concrete onto a washed-out section of road. The construction company building the cruise ship pier was obviously trying to fix the road, but local traffic had repeatedly driven through the wet concrete and created permanent, crisscrossing, deep ruts. Finally back on the boat, Noralis quickly paddled out to see me. I pay him a bit of money every week to watch the boat. He always justifies his money by relating an imaginative story with himself as the hero in saving my boat. This time he had tied a large rock to a scrap of rope as an additional anchor, in the middle of a storm. The only result I could see was the potential to chafe through my real anchor line. Later, I found out that he was spreading rumors of my death in the Port-au-Prince earthquake so he could claim my boat. As we talked, his main concern was deciding whether it was God or the French people that caused the earthquake. I lost him by talking about building codes and emergency preparedness, so he paddled away to spend my money on beer.
21 January 2010 – Laundry day in Labadie, Haiti
Dave Ellis, a sailor from Belize, and his family left early this morning for Manzanilla Bay, Dominican Republic, to withdraw money, stock up on food, and continue north into the Bahamas. I worked on straightening up the boat, and then went into the village to wash some clothes. The local women washing clothes and children did not seem to mind, but the men could not believe a white man was washing his own clothes. They must have been scared their women would start expecting men to wash clothes, which would ruin their easy existence of hanging around, complaining about no jobs, and drinking. Everything needs to be done in Haiti, if locals would simply start doing the simple things that are desperately needed, an economy would develop and jobs would appear. But wasting the day sitting around is more important than anything else.
22 January 2010 – Cap-Haitien, Haiti
Spent the day in Cap-Haitien. Tim Mangs went to assess the building construction on Maurice Laroche’s new house. The house is an old colonial structure sitting on a bench high above the city. The whole property shows promise of becoming the grandest estate in Cap-Haitien. I went to talk to Maurice about the upcoming trip bringing his new motoryacht from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, to Provo, in the Turks and Caicos.
23 January 2010 – The road to Labadie, Haiti
There is no road to Labadie. But there should be. A particularly nasty dirt track leads out of Cap-Haitien, crossing two mountains before it ends one mile from the village of Labadie. It goes to the cruise ship resort, but no further. More than two decades ago, National Geographic published an article featuring Labadie as the stereotypic, idyllic Caribbean village. Today, Labadie is home to more than 4,000 people desperately scrambling to survive off the pittance Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines throws their way. Without one more mile of road, the town’s development is choked. For a man to build a house for his family is a nightmarish struggle here. Sand for mortar is collected from the local beach, which is rapidly becoming depleted. Rocks are broken out of the surrounding hills with iron bars and hammers, then rowed across the bay and carried to the job site. Cement is purchased by the bag in Cap-Haitien, transported along the dirt road, and then carried the last mile by water taxi. Finally, fresh water is carried from the mountain stream and the whole process of mixing mortar by hand can begin. No power tools are used or available, since there are only a few hours of electricity each week. A mile away, the cruise ship resort has plenty of electricity all the time. The lure of money and jobs brings more people to Labadie all the time. How far does corporate responsibility go in taking care of its workers? Surely it goes beyond giving them a corporate logo t-shirt to wear when they are entertaining tourists. Keeping them poor and desperate helps the profit margin.
24 January 2010 – Potential Marine Park in Labadie
Eggy Suarez, Tim Mangs, and myself took a short boat ride to a beachside property that is just begging to be developed. Not sure what the final project will be, but it has an ideal beach, with a good central location for a waterpark and a large marine aquarium, where you could even swim with dolphins. The outside of the property could be lined with tourist cabanas. Tim bought a large crab and a lobster from some local fishermen. Eggy and I helped him eat them for supper.
25 January 2010 – Lazy Day in Labadie
Cooked breakfast, read for awhile, cooked lunch, then napped for a while. Ate supper with Tim Mangs and his friend Dr. Mark Binard. Dr. Binard grew up in Haiti, had a medical practice for 10 years in the northern Bahamas, now lives in northern Wisconsin, and is here volunteering with the earthquake relief efforts.
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