A Postcard From Haiti

Better late than never. I thought you all might enjoy these highlights from the trip. The matriarch (a terrific cook of Creole food, by the way) of the family I stayed with wanted a group portrait, so here it is, for your viewing pleasure. Her son Reynauld, my tour guide and interpreter, is on the far left.
Check out the bank ("Your Money Is Safe With Us!"). And those Pante condom ads were everywhere; a rise in sex tourism has led to an explosion of HIV. The panorama is the village of Soisson where I stayed; very middle class by Haitian standards, about 25 miles from Port au Prince.
Those boys were my admirers. All you had to do was sit around twiddling your thumbs and sooner or later a troupe of lads would assemble and do their darndest to flirt in whatever language necessary. Very cute.

Notice the spotted pig rooting around in the mountain of trash. Mountains of trash are ubiquitous and don't bother anyone much.

That abandoned house was built by a French family who fled during the coup twenty years ago. It's in excellent condition, and the walls are covered with beautiful frescoes and paintings, but no one will move in; fear of the white man is too strong.

That water shot is Goudillon Beach, where native Haitians go because they can't afford Les Cote des Arcadenes, the more beautiful and expensive beaches. Strangely enough, Haitians aren't very good swimmers. They generally preferred to stay close to shore wading and playing shallow water games, and were very impressed when I ventured into water above my head.

The little boy in the window is Dildi, who would wake me each morning by singing sweetly in Creole. He was fascinated by my use of dental floss and thought it a scream when I gave him some. He and Alexandra say goodbye crouched outside the house, which was made of concrete and had no electricity or running water.

Downtown Port au Prince has some wonderful statues. Some of them are of your typical war hero, black republic style, with the mounted general on a horse. Others are very soulful. The one pictured here is the Unknown Slave. He's carrying a saber and blowing a conch horn for help. The Presidential Palace is in the background. It was built during the '30s and models the White House. I think this picture captures just how conflicted a country Haiti is, with its rich, bloody history and troubled present. A few days after I got back there were riots protesting the escalating food prices. It's a mess.

I love you, Haiti. One day I'll be back.