Category Archives: Haitian presidential election

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Cabin Fever Takes Hold in Haiti


(symptoms include: a dire need to make light of what is indeed a dire situation in Port-au-Prince, a flippancy induced by the inhalation of burning rubber, and a need to beg forgiveness in advance for any and all perceived irreverence)

Okay—it’s official—

I’m climbing the walls—

Not to mention ready to pull my proverbially-blonde-bob out by its not-so-proverbially-graying-roots.

Not a pretty sight.

Not only am I not able to leave the house and the confines of our small compound—fully equipped with two armed guards, two women madly in love, two dogs dearer that dirt, and, as of yet, no turtle doves to round out the group—but I’m at a virtual stand-still, as well.

I can’t get anywhere on the internet—anywhere that involves navigating beyond the breadth and depth of options offered on my Yahoo home page, options that include, but are not limited to, commentary on Oprah’s sexual orientation (she’s not gay), a discussion of what landlords won’t tell you (your neighbor is not his problem), an explanation of what makes stomachs growl (gases caught in churning digestive juices), and how to know he’s just not that into you (his arms are folded tightly over his chest)—if you really must know—clearly I’m well informed on all of these matters.

Then there’s the noise—yesterday multiple explosions and periodic bursts of gunshot—today the clamor of protesters close enough to hear, but not close enough to watch.  I’m sorry, but I simply must insist that all rioters on the Petion-ville side of Port-au-Prince, at least have the rioting decency to circle by my house once in the course of general looting and plundering—what any civilized plunderer wouldn’t have to think twice about.

Then there’s my neighbor’s music—

I can only say that it’s loud, Hispanic, and involves a lot of drumming.  And just in the last few minutes, they’ve added clapping to the percussion already well-represented in the piece.  The neighbors, too, could be suffering from cabin fever, as evidenced by an overwhelming urge to paddy-cake themselves to comfort.  But, actually, I think there may be alcohol involved.

Please be assured that the rambling nature of this rant is likely caused by cabin fever and won’t continue once the cabin has been put on ice, the international airport has been re-opened, and all aid workers have been evacuated and repatriated.

(Seriously, it’s really getting to me.  You probably should pray.)

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A Holiday Prayer for Haiti


This morning Sara’s office is closed for a second day in a row, as announced results in the Haitian presidential election, have thrown much of the country into chaos.

Yesterday hundreds of protesters rioted past out house in the Port-au-Prince suburb of Petion-ville, and shots rang out across the city.  Throughout the day we could hear explosions and smell tires burning.  The toxic fumes of burnt rubber and tear gas left me with a near blinding headache and induced an allergic reaction in Sara, her eyes watering, face swollen from irritants in the air.

Given the seemingly insurmountable series of obstacles the country has faced since the January 12th earthquake leveled most of Port-au-Prince—hurricane Tomas, cholera, and now election fraud—I’m reminded of the Haitian proverb, “dye mon, gen mon,” which roughly translates into English as “beyond the mountains, more mountains.” 

Here the expression images topographically the never-ending struggle of the Haitian people, outlining a belief shared by many, that conquering one challenge only brings the next one into focus—a belief mapped in the furrowed brows of many who fight the good fight one day, only to see the sun rise the following morning on the summit of the next.

As the mountains that circle Port-au-Prince are brightening today, those of us holed up in our houses are left with little to do but pray—

Pray for peace on these angry streets—

And in the mountains—the mountains beyond mountains—

May the hills be alive with a sound of peaceful music–

A peace that passes understanding–

May God bring peace to Haiti this holiday season!

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Haiti–poker-faced amid post-election violence


Yesterday morning, very early—not yet 4 am—

Eyes opening—through a blur, I see Sara on the bed next to me—Blackberry in face—fingers flying.  This is not an uncommon sight, by any means.  Often by 3 in the morning, Sara is awake responding to email—and as soon at the day’s online edition of the New York Times is posted—almost always by 4:30, she’s reading that via Blackberry.

However, this morning I notice her brow furrowed with more intensity than I’m accustomed to.  So through the fog of not yet total consciousness, I ask—

“What are you doing?”

“Poker,” she grunts.

“Oh,“ I respond, rolling over to doze a moment more—since I myself have no serious gaming to attend to.

But I’m thinking:

Is it the challenge of poker she responds to? 

—any challenge—new challenge—big challenge—challenge I wouldn’t touch if my creative-driven life depended on it.

Sara does challenge recreationally.

Imagine what that’s like to live with!

Fortunately, however, it’s this drive to conquer the complicated and seemingly impossible that equips her to deal with the kind of challenge Haiti faces today.

Things aren’t good here this morning.

The announcement last night of preliminary results for the recent presidential election has resulted today in widespread chaos and rioting ,this in a country already in crisis, not only from last January’s earthquake, but more recently from a cholera epidemic that has killed thousands.

Even in our usually quiet Port-au-Prince suburb of Petion-ville, the streets are barricaded this morning with burning tires.  Hundreds of protesters riot past our house, as UN helicopters circle over-head and gun-shoots ring out across the city.

Last night stone throwing protesters broke Sara’s office windows.

Today American Airlines has cancelled all flights into and out of the country.

In a setting like this, I’m fortunate to be with a woman who loves a good challenge—

Especially since I sit cowering in a  some writerly corner—a blog my only defense against what seem overwhelming odds—odds not in Haiti’s favor, I’m afraid.

But—I have on my poker face.             

Sort of———

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A Haitian Tale of Two Cities


Sara and I finally left out house this morning, left our home in Petion-ville for the first time since election fraud plunged Haiti into violent protests. Sara insisted she had too much work to do; I wanted out for any and all conceivable reasons—a Haitian version of cabin fever—I was not so much climbing the walls as I was willing to bulldoze them down the mountain, if doing so would assure escape—from our guards, the fence, razor wire spiraling above, our personal crown of thorns—

I—Wanted—Out!

But getting out was strangely anti-climactic—

As the streets were quiet and, though not literally deserted, they were largely empty of the activities I see most mornings driving to the gym—fewer vehicles, only a handful of children—little girls, usually braided and bowed, hand-in-hand with parents or one another, on their way to school, uniforms laundered and pressed.  These children were largely absent this morning.

So I exercised—I worked out—ultimately working out next to nothing in a gym whose wall of fifth floor windows overlooks the whole of Port-au-Prince—below the bay, the grit and grime of the city itself and treeless mountains circling beyond.  It’s a lovely view, as long as you don’t think too much about the details, about what’s actually happening there—the poverty, the hunger, the cholera, the fraud.

As long as you don’t think, you’re not sickened in the least—

But now I’m home—safe behind these walls privilege provides—nauseated by trying—wanting—

 A truth, any truth—

The news I read online doesn’t so much offer conflicting stories—as differing ones:

–A Reuters’ piece published by Yahoo News  saying presidential candidate, Michel “Sweet Mickey” Martelly has reversed his call to have election results annulled, insisting now the votes should indeed be counted.

—The Haitian Times  indicating that Martelly is now calling the process “ an electoral coup d’etat,” promising that he will “contest the elections if he is not declared the winner”—that he’s the people’s choice.

The bottom line is this—

In Haiti it’s hard to grab hold of any singular story—

In Haiti there’s a soup of story—

In Haiti the story is itself unsafe—a cholera of narrative and news—

Here in Haiti there is story so dis-eased—dis-ease so full of story, there simply is no rhyme or reason to be had—no heads, no tails—and yet so many tales to tell . . . .

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Ghost of Hamlet Haunts Haiti’s Presidential Election


Things sound eerily quiet here this morning in my little corner of Haiti—especially after all the angry, sometimes violent,  protests yesterday against election fraud.  I can only image that, like me, folks are reluctant to go out into the streets.

The big picture looks like this, however:

Haiti held nation-wide elections yesterday for president, senators, and other lesser offices—elections that were to have been scheduled for last February but were delayed following the earthquake that leveled most of Port-au-Prince on January 12, 2010.

Yesterday ballot boxes were said to have arrived at polling stations already filled with votes for the protégé and future son-in-law of current Haitian President Rene Preval—Jude Celestin.  Mid-morning yesterday 12 of the 18 leading opposition candidates alleged “massive fraud” on the part of Preval and Celestin’s Inite (Unity) coalition and called for election results to be cancelled.  These candidates included former first lady and front-runner in pre-election polls, Mirlande Manigate, whose husband again ran for president in 2006, coming in second.  In that election Manigate was denied the legally required run-off, even though Preval failed to get 50% of the vote.

(And we think politics in the US are bad!  This makes the Bush/Gore Florida controversy in 2000 look like child’s play.)

It has seemed for months that things weren’t likely to be fair, not so much because hip-hop star Wycliffe Jean was denied a spot on the ballot, but more importantly because no candidates of the truly grass roots opposition party Lavalas (still figure-headed by former President Aristide), were allowed to run for any office.

It seemed surprising yesterday, at least to me, that thousands of protesters took to the streets even here in the usually quiet suburb of Petion-ville—led by candidate and entertainer Michel “Sweet Micky” Martelly and joined by Wycliffe Jean himself.

(The noise kept our dogs unsettled and barking into the night.  Actually though, we were bothered no more than that.  And to be honest, ours are not the quietest of canines to begin with!)

Today there’s a planned march on the presidential palace, during which protesters, we are told, will call for President Preval to resign. 

But damage to the palace itself during the earthquake last January, the palace on which protesters will march today, may suggest, at least in metaphoric terms, that something is indeed “rotten in the State of [Haiti].” 

The ghost of Hamlet here is haunting?

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Haitian Election Update


Election day hasn’t even ended here in Haiti, but already UN helicopters are circling over-head and violent protesters have begun rioting, not only in Port-au-Prince, but here in the quiet suburb of Petion-ville, as well.

Most of the presidential candidates, except Jude Celestin, the protégé of current President Preval, are contesting results that haven’t been announced yet, since ballot boxes were said to have arrived at polling places already stuffed with votes for Preval’s future son-in-law.

Things don’t look good. I will continue to update as long as internet service is available.

Please keep Haiti in your thoughts and prayers!

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Haitian Presidential Elections and a DNA of Hoarding


Haitian presidential elections are tomorrow, and in preparation for post-election violence, people are stocking up on food and drinking water, ready to remain in their homes should angry protesters flood the streets once election results are announced.  Most NGOs, Sara’s included, plan to remain closed on Monday, believing that if history is any indicator, security problems are inevitable.  My Haitian French teacher told me that after the last election, she was unable to leave her home for 5 full days, and she expects the same this time around.

However, Sara and I may have gotten to the grocery store a bit too late this morning, a day after most Haitians had already stocked up.  The shelves, though they were not empty, were terribly picked over, and, for example, there was not a baguette in sight (and very little fresh produce).  But we got the fundamentals and finally found French bread at the bakery near Sara’s office.

At any rate, we are well-supplied in the event of violence or political unrest: plenty of fuel for the generator, batteries for emergency lighting, and a solar powered radio to hear election results via our guards.

We are so well supplied, in fact—that Saint Sara is laughing at me as I write this, pointing out that, including the 4 cans of diced tomatoes I bought today, we now have a grand total of 13, and including the 2 I purchased this morning, we now have 14 bottles of salad dressing—blue cheese, balsamic vinaigrette, and honey mustard varies all lined in lovely rows.  Not to mention the 15 two liter bottles of Coke Zero, equally well-ordered.  Saint Sara’s soldiering of the surplus, so to speak

Okay, okay, I admit it—I’m obsessed.  I over-shop.  I over-stock.  It’s a sickness. 

But couldn’t I blame this on the political climate here in Haiti, the potential for civil unrest, the need to be well-supplied in the event of disaster?  Yes­—

—But I blame it on the DNA—

—Claiming, as my grandmother did when my aunt asked why she had so much toilet paper—a floor-to-ceiling-sized pantry full—

“I’m keeping it so all the hoarders don’t get it!”

What supplies are surplus-ed in your pantry?