We Begin Our Journey to Haiti: How the ‘Pearl of the Antilles' Lost its Luster
I first sailed into Haiti on a little Brit ocean liner. It was nothing like the ones you see today... no water slides, casinos, spas or rock climbing walls. Just 500 passengers, a British-accented crew and an environment so innocent that the rooms had no locks or keys. Risky by today's standards, but carefree by yesterday's. In my mind it was a floating slice of heaven.
It stood in stark contrast to the island reality that I first glimpsed through a fogged porthole. I remember making my way to the outside "promenade" deck after docking. Peering down into the harbor I saw young men -- hardly more than boys -- in rag-tag rowboats, dwarfed by our ship, yet doggedly, persistently rowing closer and closer. Once within earshot of the passengers still waiting to disembark, they started their calls for money.
"Throw down your coins! No copper, silver!" Not realizing the poverty that brought them to this display of desperate child's play, we starting pitching nickles, dimes and quarters over the side of the ship. The young men would make wild dives or great flying leaps from their boats to catch the coins and retrieve the spendable prize, much to the delight of well-heeled passengers. If one showed particular athleticism, more coins would be thrown in his direction.
Next, another plea: "Soap! Throw down your soap!" Dutiful child that I was, I ran full bore back to my stateroom, to gather up tiny bars of soap supplied by a kindly room steward. I remember the boys yelling, "Hey lady, hey lady!" at me, in hopes I would fling a bar their way. I was only 12! I had never been called a "lady" before. Finally, an urgent request, "Cigarettes!" And while I had none of those, plenty of passengers darted down tobacco torpedoes which these boys grabbed right out of the air before they ever hit water.
It's a faded memory, a clue to the state of life in Haiti in the 1960s. And now, more than 40 years later, has it improved? Finding out for yourself is no easy trick, mind you. The U.S. State Dept. sternly warns Americans to stay home, or risk the dangers of civil unrest, kidnappings, murders and other violent acts on an island where law enforcement "isn't." But I've noticed that some of the cruise lines have indeed started to put Haiti back into their itineraries. Could be a hopeful sign. Let's take our own look at the bruised Pearl of the Antilles, through the eyes of nurses in the field. But first, some background...
Ki laj Ou? How old are you? (Haitian Creole)... A baby born in the United States has a reasonable expectation of living to 80. Some will succumb earlier, others will travel well into centenarian territory. But if your human journey begins in Haiti, pack light. Life expectancy is just 57. Only 720 miles from Miami's South Beach -- where "beautiful people" primp, parade and outpace paparazzi -- Haitians toil to make ends meet and avoid succumbing to all-too-early statistical demands. At a point Americans consider vibrant middle age, many Haitians are rendered "old" from the exhaustion of daily living.
Ki sa ou genyen? What's wrong?... It isn't any one malady, but a confluence of threatening circumstances that have come to oppress these people. Granted, life is never fair. But it seems a little less fair in Haiti. "What's wrong" began after an unprecedented slave rebellion, 1791-1804 -- the only successful slave revolt in the history of the world, says Wikipedia. Yet in this first Black-led republic, and first Caribbean state to achieve independence, things went terribly wrong. Wealth fell to a minority (5 percent) Mulatto elite, foreign business interests, and eventually greedy and brutal dictatorships. There were no worse than voodoo physician Francois "Papa Doc" Duvalier (who ruled from 1957 until his death in 1971) and his son Jean-Claude, dubbed "Baby Doc" (in power from 1971 until overthrown in 1986. Having gone through his ill-gotten fortune, he lives in exile in a small flat in France, largely on handouts from others). During three decades of Duvalier rule, some 40,000 political opponents were killed at the hands of their Tontons Macoutes militia, while the reigning tyrants raped the Haitian economy through decadent personal indulgences and unthinkable, unedited spending sprees. It's no wonder violence and political instability became par for the course -- perhaps a reactive cry against human rights abuses, illegal drugs and arms trading, human trafficking and kidnapping.
Mwen grangou. I'm hungry... It's painful to imagine what great good might have been done for the Haitian people with the Duvaliers' misdirected wealth. Instead, Haitians today live in what is described by the CIA in its World Factbook as "the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, with 80 percent of the population living under the poverty line, 54 percent living in ‘abject' poverty." About half of the population is illiterate; there is no public education. Per capita income is about $560 per year (according to UNICEF. Some agencies put that figure much lower.) Two-thirds of the labor force are "freelancers"... meaning unemployed, or without a formal job. Most families live in tropical heat without electricity (think of that the next time your air conditioner goes on the fritz), and there is not enough potable water to go around. Most Haitians transport water, often contaminated, in buckets... on foot. Think you'd hop into a car and ride over to the next town to get some supplies? Think again. There are slightly over 4,000 km of roadways, and over 3,000 of them are unpaved.
Sa k'genyen? What's the matter?... And then there are the insults added to injury. Haiti lies in the midst of the hurricane belt. In 2008, Fay, Gustav, Hanna and Ike all paid their windy respects and deposited torrential downfalls on the island, leaving behind heavy flooding, mudslides, "physical and economic devastation," according to the U.S. State Department -- and 300 dead. Haitian mountains may have stood strong against hurricane-force winds, but they have fallen prey to the power of poverty. They have been deforested because the poor cut trees for fuel. The offshoot is: precious topsoil is swept into the sea, leaving little raw materials for those who subsist on meager crops of rice, beans, corn and bananas.
It should come as no surprise that Haiti's high population density (9 million people in 11,000 square km of land) teamed with grossly inadequate healthcare has opened the door to tuberculosis, malaria and HIV. And yet, Haiti calls to some. Kyra Abbott, BSN, RN, answered the call.
Next time: Mwen se infimye ou. I am your nurse... Why one Canadian nurse took on the challenge.
Let's talk: Post a comment or email me at vnewitt@advanceweb.com