What We Did (On Tourism in Haiti)

No one wants to read a full recap of one person’s adventures; however I do think (hope) some perspective can be gained by my hitting the significant areas our recent travels. I will try to write by saying not necesarily what we did, but what we learned.

On Friday, Mandy and I got dropped off at the Port-au-Prince airport to fly to Santo Doming. Wrong airport. Someone there drove us to the other one. The confusion begins.

We boarded a 12-seater to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. After arriving, we made it to a bus station via taxi, then via a nice bus (air conditioned!) to Puerta Plata, Dominican. A few things to note – the DR seems like a resort compared to Haiti. The roads are so nice. The people aren’t everywhere. It was a crazy shock. I expect that shock now as I travel to the US; I wasn’t ready for it just going to the other side of the island. As one friend told me, “you live in a bad part of Africa right now; you’re going to Latin America – it’s a lot different.” He was right.

I made friends with the girl next to me on the bus. She was Haitian but studying in Dominican (Medicine). As my Spanish leaves something to be desired and her English was spotty, we actually spoke quite a bit in Creole – making me realize I know a lot more than I thought. Upon arriving to Puerta Plata, this girl and her husband actually gave Mandy and I a ride to our resort. It was very nice of them. The resort was unreal. All of the sudden we ate and drank all we wanted from Fri-Sunday. It was wonderful. We even got the chance to tear up a relatively empty dance floor late one night; I had blisters on my feet afterwards. It was an unreal break from Haiti. We kayaked and snorkeled in the ocean, and I mangad to lose several ping pong games to Mandy. Also, one night a waiter was so kind as to "get us in" to a really nice resteraunt where you needed reservsations there. I tried to give him the smooth handshake with some money for getting us in (long story as to why this was such a big deal). The money exchange went well, but instead of saying "gracias" I choked and said "por favor". Luckily Mandy was behind me speaking Spanish and telling him thank you...

We had a great time. Leaving Sunday, our plan was to head to Cap Haitian (in Haiti), to see the Citadelle, then bus down the next day to PAP (6 hour bus ride). We rode on the back of motorcycles to the actual city Puerta Plata from the resort. Then, we walked until we flagged down a bus heading to the border. We took this bus, and then took another motorcycle to the actual border. We then walked up to the border (sketchy!) and it was physically locked. We were told it was closed because of the Haitian elections. Great. We immediately were hit the reality of poor haitians all around– they follow you around in the streets, eager to “help” you. In reality, they want money. We can argue about whether this is good or bad, warranted or not, but however you split it it can be a real pain in the ass. End of story. If you think I’m being harsh, come walk the streets as a white person in Haiti. It’s probably depressing or sweet or something if you’re here for a week or two. If you live here, it’s different. Imagine if every time you walked out your front door, people came up to you. NOT to say hi or greet you, but to ask for money. It's not just asking - its badgering; constantly doing things you don't need then demanding money ("Don't run in the street....give me 10 dollar"). It's different than many poor people I've been around. As if you're the bad guy suddenly. And when you say no they follow you and keep talking. You say no several times, and they still persist. Then when you finally actually don’t give them money they pitch a fit. I digress. I did give money to a man for exchanging our money for us and money to a kid for "shining" my tennis shoes.

We made it to a hotel (can you call it this?) and slept. Not before Haitian men and children wanted our money (for walking with us to the hotel, which we told them we knew where it was…). We spent a long, hot night there. What a strange border city. The next day we pushed our way through people streaming across the border. It was market day, where the Haitians come across to sell. The border was WIDE open. It was crazy. We were stopped because we were white; otherwise our passports never would have been stamped. AS SOON as we crossed the border things got nasty. Literally as soon as we crossed. It’s just different. Run down. Poverty. Like African slums. We had to search for where to get our passport stamped. We then rode another motorcycle to find a bus. We piled in a school bus PACKED with Haitians 3-4 to a seat. Not joking. They were very nice to us though, even though we were the only whites within miles. This was actually a nice ride. At one point we saw white people. We passed missionaries at one point, builidng a building. It was weird, being on the bus looking out. I felt like I was haitian, looking at them, thinking, what a strange site, all those blan.

We eventually got off and flagged another bus to the Citadelle. Here, we rode on the back of motorcycles up a ways (this was an insane ride). Then we walked up to the great historic site: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Citadelle_Laferriere

Of course, things were as “Haitian” as ever. A Haitian guy insisted on walking with us – even though I repeatedly told him I had no money for him. Mandy told him numerous times as well. (She speaks Spanish, I speak Creole; we told him in both, and English.) At the entrance he still walked with us, insising on giving us some terrible tour (e.g. “this is a cannon”…). He was bothering me and Mandy. Finally, as we walked up onto a terrace, he began saying “no no, this way”. At which point I got stern. I just yelled at him the equivalent of “look buddy, we paid the entrance price, we are going to look where we want.” He was like "fine." Then he walked over with us and I was like, "look, we didn’t ask for you, we've repeatedly told you we don’t have money for you, and now you're annoying us. Go away!" He started yelling at me how he showed us the shortcut on the walk up, etc etc. I told him, "I would pay you 50 goude for that, no more, and the smallest I have is 100, and you're not getting that. You are annoying us." So I tell him to go away. He’s yelling at me, etc. We walk down to the middle of the castle, where 4 other men are sitting. Our “guide” is still yelling, and now begins yelling at them that we stiffed him. THANK GOODNESS I know some creole. I could understand what he was saying to them. I yelled to the men in creole, “Not true, we told him we had no money for him and to leave us alone; he wouldn’t”. At this point I was a bit scared. No one else was in this castle (Seriously, no one), and you can easily “fall” off any one of these ledges. (Yes, it is the sketchiest “tourist” spot I’ve ever seen in my life). And now I’m yelling at some Haitian guy. Great. Luckily, the men sided with us and also started yelling at the other guy. Side note: it’s very hard for me to enjoy vacations like this. And you wonder why Haiti has trouble attracting tourists? Who wants to get hastled like this AND fear for their life during vacation?? At any rate, I am now scared he is going to corner us in a dark part of the castle or on a terrace and try to kill/rob us. As we descended some stairs into a small alley, he was there. He had something in his hand. My heart rate jumped a bit, although I tried to look cool, and big. He had 50 goude in his hand. “Here, you said you would give me 50 goude, so I got change”, he said. I said "of course," and traded him my 100 goude for his 50. I love Haiti perhaps more than anyone, and things like this are never going to help the economic siutation. You're sitting there reading this thinking, "I would never go do this." And for good reason. And it's a shame, the Citadelle is amazing, and this could be a real money-maker for them.

I forgot to mention that at this point I am delirious, emotionally and physically spent:

(taken from wikipedia) “The Citadel is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Haiti. Directions to and history of the fortress are provided by self-appointed guides from the town of Milot. Visitors may be asked to pay a small fee at the entrance to the Citadel. Visitors are encouraged to rent a horse for the uphill trek. The first portion of the seven-mile (11 km) trail is navigable by 4WD vehicle, although infrequent landslides and construction projects sometimes make this unreliable. From the mid-level parking lot, the second portion must be completed either on horseback or on foot. The entire seven-mile-trail starting in Milot, almost completely uphill, can be walked by experienced hikers who carry plenty of water. Most of the interior of the Citadel fortress itself is accessible to visitors, who may also climb the numerous staircases to the fortress's roof, which is free of guardrails. On a clear day, the city of Cap Haitien and the Atlantic Ocean can be seen to the north.”

The view was incredible. I was also carrying 2 L of beer from the Dominican, which I questioned the utility of every minute of the hike. And the "no guardrails" on top of this castle was truly crazy (you could easily pulmmet to your death with a wrong step). As we rode on the motorcycles back down across steep, wet cobblestone, we eventually were at the base. Here, we were deciding on how to get to Puerta Plata, at which point a black SUV, with a big, heavy set black man driving, pulls up. Tinted windows, bass bumping. The ticket office guy says, “hey, my friend will give you ride,” and points to the SUV. I walk over to the SUV. His window is rolled down and he speaks broken English. “Friend, no problem, I will give you ride. Just get in.” I got closer and realized he was drunk and was holding a martini glass just below the window. Now, I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but I was quite sure this was a bad idea. This was us about to get robbed, I am sure of that. I just kept saying no and walked off. We ran into town on foot and found a tap-tap:

http://bonsamaritan.org/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/Bus2.19173702_std.jpg

We crammed into this and found a domestic airport. It was almost 3 pm and it would take 6 hours to bus down to Port-au-Prince, then we would have to find a way across Port-au-Prince at night up to our house. No way. We needed a flight. We walked into the airport at 2:45 and managed to catch the last flight, at 3pm, down to PAP. It just so happened that GHESKIO was picking up the summer interns in from the US at the airport at 4:30 that day. They picked us up too. We returned safely with the new summer students.

I said I would not report what we did, but rather what we learned. I did just the opposite, I fear. Regardless, I will posit a few things:

1) Tourism in Haiti sucks because it’s dangerous.
2) It really is dangerous in Haiti, no matter what someone that has been here for a month or two during a “calm” time tells you (e.g. “I was there for a few months, it’s fine!”).
3) Tourism in Haiti also sucks because people bother you. They don’t get that you want to have a nice time; you don’t want to be arguing with someone to leave you the hell alone the whole time you’re on vacation.
4) Tourism in the DR is nice because they seem to be capitalizing on what they have- warm weather, beaches, safety. Haitians could learn from this. There ARE beautiful beaches and sites in Haiti.
5) Tourism in Haiti will continue to be bad as long as there is violence and instability. Why spend vacation here, even if it were at a resort, when violence is looming?
6) Despite all of this, we breathed a sigh of relief when we made it to Port-au-Prince, perhaps the most dangerous place. But to us it's home, and it felt good to get back home, where I have friends and family around to help if something goes wrong.
7) Haiti has the resources to provide a tourism industry, if only they could:
1) provide a stable enough environment, and
2) learn to recognize what tourists want (not to be hassled the whole
time, for one).
8) If you think I am being overly harsh; feel free to come on down and back pack around the country some. I love this place and many of the people here; and I’m trying to be as true to the truth as I can regardless of how that comes out. I actually think there could be a real tourism industry here, it just needs to be guided safely and made accessible to those that don't speak Creole/know how to deal with things here.