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 . . . .

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?

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!

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?