| “We would like
to visit Haiti,” we said to the local agent at Carr
Travel. She reacted with surprise and dismay. “Oh, no.
You really don’t want to go to Haiti do you? There are
so many nicer, safer places to choose from.”
The year was sometime in the early ’90s, and my husband
had long before fallen in love with the country and its
people during brief layovers during his service in the Merchant
Marine. I had never visited, but was eager to see for myself
this country which had so enchanted him.
Fortunately, the owner of the agency, Sally Carr, overheard
our conversation and stepped out from her desk at the rear
of the office. She told us that she had traveled to Haiti
in the past and loved it, and she also told us that if we
were willing to abide by certain restrictions and stay primarily
in Petionville, a more affluent area minutes from Port au
Prince, she would book our trip.
She proceeded to recommend a small, family owned hotel
called Villa Creole, rather than a more luxurious, larger
one more often frequented by Americans and other tourists.
I recall landing at the small, rudimentary airport and
waiting in long lines with many forms to be filled out.
Finally, a short taxi ride brought us to the Villa Creole,
the only hotel I have ever seen that had no front door.
A tree-lined drive led to a sheltered open patio which
housed the front desk. Exotic, flowering bushes were everywhere,
and as we registered, we could look past the desk and down
some steps to a circular dining room with beautiful views
of the surrounding countryside. Rooms were in an adjacent
two-story concrete block-type building, and these did have
their own doors and locks.
Furnishings were almost spartan, and I wondered if we had
made a mistake, but that evening’s delicious dinner
and expert, attentive service re-assured me completely.
The hotel had only a few visitors, and soon all of us and
the staff became like one family ... with impromptu singing
to accompany the small, but enthusiastic Haitian four-piece
band that played after dinner.
Among the very few Americans staying there were Pat and
Jim King from Albia, Iowa. Jim, a retired banker, had volunteered
to serve with a government program designed to help modernize
the Haitian banking system. Pat was also volunteering, as
an English teacher at one of the local schools. They were
both thunderstruck when we appeared the first morning at
breakfast and Val happened to be wearing a T-shirt emblazoned
with, “My daughter is at the University of Iowa and
is spending all my money.”
“Oh! My God ... I don’t believe it,”
shouted Jim as he jumped up to greet us.” We became
good friends.
Also at the hotel was a New York art dealer, but she stayed
mainly to herself, leaving early each morning, going off
into the surrounding countryside to scout for paintings
and wood carvings.
One of the sad consequences of the earthquake is that in
addition to the terrible loss of life, there has been great
destruction of irreplaceable art, especially of that in
the main museum and churches, a legacy of the Haitian struggle
for independence. While we did take one or two small trips
to nearby towns and also went into Port au Prince to visit
the palace and the museum, most mornings were wonderfully
leisurely, delicious breakfast served poolside under the
spreading branches of an almond tree, which exuded the most
fragrant smell.
We could watch women coming down from the towns in the
surrounding hills, their heads loaded high with many baskets
of goods to be sold in the local markets. After breakfast,
I usually enjoyed a relaxing swim in the pool, which most
mornings, I had completely to myself.
When we did leave the hotel, we were usually quickly surrounded
by children, chanting “Donnez-moi une penny.”
The adult Haitians always had items for sale, only the children
asked for money. Despite the obvious poverty, everyone we
met appeared neat and clean, good-natured and with a wonderful
sense of humor.
I had admired a small bread basket, just the right size
for two people, which was on our table every morning. Upon
our departure, the hotel’s owner graciously gave me
one of the baskets and remarked, “To remember your
stay with us.” It is still in use every day during
our breakfast in Branford, and I wonder now if the hotel
and the kindly manager survived the quake.
It finally came time to leave, and we reluctantly departed
unwilling to return to a wintry Connecticut. Arriving at
the airport, we were surprised by the huge crowds of people.
A major snowstorm had hit New York, closing all the airports.
The American Airlines representative told us they would
pay for our transportation back to the hotel, as well as
an additional night’s stay. (Those were the days when
airlines still courted customers). Absolutely delighted
to have an unexpected additional day, we happily accepted
the offer.
While I have warm memories of Haiti, I am fully aware that
this poorest of nations, born of a slave revolt which lasted
13 brutal years, has had 32 government coups in its 200-year
history of oppression by dictators. Even before the earthquake,
half of all deaths were due to HIV/AIDS, respiratory infections,
meningitis, cholera and typhoid.
Most Haitians live on less than $2 a day, despite the large
sums of money poured into the country by the U.S. and the
United Nations. The hope is that finally, as the country
is re-built, the help can be distributed in such a way that
it permanently benefits the long-suffering Haitian people.
Jean Cherni is founder of Senior
Living Solutions, a retirement advisory service. Contact
her at jeancherni@sbcglobal.net or 15 The Ponds, Branford
06405.
H. Pearce Company REALTORS®
is a full-service real estate company with more than 100
agents and branch offices in greater New Haven and the Shoreline.
Corporate and & Commercial offices are located in North
Haven, where the company was founded in 1958. All listings
can be found in color on the web at: www.hpearce.com. |
