In an almost comical turn of events, more second-hand and counterfeit goods are on their way to Haiti. These sorts of efforts, while certainly well intentioned, are not constructive. They do not contribute to real reconstruction and recovery efforts.
For a more well developed take on the issue, see here.
I continue to be overwhelmed by the acts of solidarity I am witnessing. My former Peace Corps community, Batey 8, a Haitian and Haitian-Dominican village and itself one of the poorest settings in the Dominican Republic, is sending volunteers into Haiti and to the Haitian-Dominican border town of Jimani to assist with the relief efforts.
For the past six days, those Batey residents with medical training – a handful are nursing students at a state-run university nearby – have been in Haiti attending to injured survivors. The community itself is sending food, clothes, and medical supplies each day in the back of a pickup truck, and many others are along the border at Jimani translating Haitian Creole to Spanish in the Dominican hospitals tending to Haitians.
When understood in the context of the longstanding hostility between Haitians and Dominicans, and the grinding poverty of the Dominican’s Bateys, these courageous acts of solidarity are all the more inspiring.
Filed under: Haiti, International Development | Tags: Corruption, Haiti, Inter-American Development Bank, Investment, Port-au-Prince, Poverty, Transparency International, United Nations
According to the Times, no new agreements were reached at Haiti’s recent investment conference. Nevertheless, the simple fact that we are talking about an investment conference, and not a donor conference, is a huge step in the right direction. And even if no landmark deal was conceived, it is significant that investors from all over the world decided to board a plane destined for Port-au-Prince.
Haiti has an image problem. It’s always linked to its unenviable position as “poorest country in the hemisphere,” it’s always portrayed as chaotic, unstable, corrupt, hopeless. Even with stunning natural beauty, Haiti can’t attract tourists for the life of her – save for the UN peacekeepers that fill her beaches and nightclubs (and for this recent piece of good news). And for those potential investors listening to these damning reports, sitting in comfortable offices in New York, Miami, Paris, Montreal, São Paulo, Buenos Aires, Taipei, or Seoul, without an in-person visit, it’s unlikely any investment would head Haiti’s way.
When I worked in the Dominican Republic, Haiti was portrayed as the closest thing to hell on earth. And I got this same story from nearly everyone I met. When I was in the US, media accounts of Haiti – when given a few seconds of airtime – were not all that different. These accounts scare people away – tourists as much as investors. But they can be overcome with a one-way ticket on American Airlines. Seeing Haiti, experiencing Haiti, makes a hell of a difference.
As stated by the President of the Inter-American Development Bank, which sponsored the conference, reputations aren’t changed overnight – be it for a person or a nation. But by showing up and seeing the potential for investment, Haiti’s image, and therefore future, took an important step in the right direction.
It’s now up to the state to protect investors from the corruption and “red-tape” that scares away investment. Haiti’s position as one of the world’s most corrupt states won’t make it easy to secure the trust and capital of investors, but hopefully with the help of the UN and IDB, they can be convinced of the real investment possibilities to be found in Haiti.
Filed under: Haiti | Tags: Bill Clinton, Haiti, Paul Farmer, Private Investment, UN
The UN’s dynamic duo, former President Bill Clinton and public health saint Paul Farmer, arrived in Haiti today to see what they could do about helping Haiti “escape its history,” as Clinton has put it. They spoke today at my favorite spot for Wifi and a good Hamburger, Haiti’s lovely Karibe Hotel. It’s also a great spot for an all you can eat Sunday brunch for just $10 – how I cram all my fruits and vegetables, and vitamins!, into one sitting.
My well-placed Embassy friend who met Paul Farmer at the airport today said he drove away in a $200,000 armored car. For someone who’s accustomed to roughing it in Haiti, and has been for nearly the past thirty years, the new VIP treatment must be at least a little jarring.
Anywho, I’m excited – though dare I say a bit skeptical – to see what comes out of this next few days. It’s being billed as a sort of global-investment conference for Haiti. I say “global” because the investors are arriving from as far way as Asia, Europe, Latin America, the US, and Canada – plus the ever-anticipated Haitian diaspora. The dynamic duo is trying to secure private sector investments in Haiti. Because as we all know, it’s all about jobs, jobs, jobs!
And, in all seriousness, it really is all about jobs, jobs, jobs!
Filed under: Haiti | Tags: Dengue, Haiti, Health Care, Health Insurance, International Financial Institutions, Micor-Insurance, MICROFINANCE, Philanthropic Donors, Port-au-Prince
I have dengue for the third time. It’s been confirmed. Thanks modern science. I found out at a glossy, seemingly state of the art hospital here in Port-au-Prince. The only really caveat is that all the rooms are about 33% smaller than they’d be in the States. Smaller doctor’s office, smaller waiting room, smaller bathroom. Everything just smaller proportions.
But that wasn’t the only difference. I also noticed everyone paying in cash. And I noticed being asked to pay each step of the way. First, consultation – $30. Then, lab tests – $45. At each step I paid on the spot to move onto the next (By the way, what a deal for the lab work, $45?!).
It seems – understandably, of course – that most Haitians don’t have health insurance. Even those who frequent this glossy new hospital. Now, as the poorest country in the hemisphere, most Haitians don’t have jobs or the ability to read and write – so lacking health insurance isn’t too strange.
But as someone waiving an insurance card, and the ability to pay for the services even in its absence, it felt wrong that of all the people who would eventually get reimbursed for their expenses, it was going to be the me – the one with the least need. The poor seem like a more logical choice. But they don’t pay a premium so they don’t get the service.
This is where micro-insurance needs to step in to cover a very limited list of ailments for a very, very reduced premium. It seems like if micro-lending could become such a colossal industry, micro-insurance shouldn’t be far behind. Of all the things that knock individuals and families down the socio-economic ladder, nothing strikes with such force as “health shocks” – or huge, unexpected medical problems. And once down, it can take a Herculean effort to get back up. Imagine the power of micro-insurance to prevent these shocks from exacting such devastation.
There seems to be a role for international financial institutions and philanthropic donors here. Where’s the seed capital?
Filed under: Haiti
But there should be something up soon. With the past few weeks of vacationing, essay writing, and more vacationing, there’s tons to reflect on. Soon.
In the meantime, here are some shots of the Dominican Republic’s most famous batey – Batey #8.
Filed under: Haiti, Out in the Field | Tags: FONKOZE, Haiti, Microcredit, Peace Corps, Public Transportation, Tap-Taps, Ti-Kredi
My trips out to the field are rejuvenating even if physically draining. Clients poor enough to qualify for Fonkoze’s “Ti Kredi” program – micro, microcredit – tend not to live in or nearby large population centers. And it’s not uncommon to spend two hours trudging along narrow dirt paths before reaching their small, sparsely populated rural villages. But the chance to dialogue is rejuvenating because the stories and faces, the smells and sounds, serve as a reminder that our “beneficiaries” are more than statistics; their poverty is more than just a topic of conversation for my friends and I.
And on this past trip out into the field I had to manage for myself without a car and driver, which meant public transportation (mainly motorcycles, pickup trucks, and former school buses). For me, the thought of riding public transportation is always initially exciting: I like considering myself a man of the people and air-conditioned, chauffeured trucks don’t fit that image; it’s a great way to learn how to travel when you don’t have a car, which outside of trips into the field, I do not; also, it’s an opportunity to surprise a few Haitians with my Creole, and of course, it’s a fantastic way to make new friends.
Nevertheless, there are a few downsides, not least of all the pain that flat, metal seats inflict on my derriere when traveling over crater-size potholes and jarring dirt roads. And let me state flatly that I was not blessed with a lot of cushioning in my derriere: when I was in the Peace Corps, one of my nicknames was “flat ass,” also “big head,” “mayor,” and “whitey.”
Public transportation can also be quite a time-gamble if you’re on a tight schedule, which I always am. Transportation from town to town doesn’t leave until the pickup, minivan, or ex-school bus is filled like a sardine-can. Economically, it makes sense because the cost of public transportation is dirt cheap. But, time wise, it means making a meeting on time is challenging. For example, to make the 30 minute trip from Cap-Haitien to Milot, I woke up at 4:30am in order to make a 7am meeting time (It took me arriving an hour late the day before for me to remember public transportation doesn’t run on my schedule). Inexplicably, just a few months of riding in a personal vehicle with a driver has erased an understanding of developing-world public transportation built over two years as a Peace Corps volunteer. (more…)
I woke up this morning in Gonaїves. It’s an arid city in an already arid northwest that gusts chalk-white dust. It was 4:08 am.
The day before, I left Port-au-Prince on what was supposed to be an 8 hour trip to Haiti’s northern coast. I had planned a meeting with my Ti Kredi team for that afternoon at the Fonkoze branch office in Milot.
Gonaїves is one of Haiti’s largest cities. Nevertheless, it was all but washed away by a series of hurricanes last fall. Hundreds of people were killed or just never found. But, for a lack of reconstruction, the destruction is still fresh; it seems as if the hurricanes struck last week, not last fall.
Milot is a small, idyllic town on the emerald green north coast. Nevertheless, it’s also home to a colossal palace from the rule of Emperor Christophe. Milot sits in a lush valley, defended to the rear by a line of mountain peaks. It’s quaint, lovely and has no white dust.
But I woke up in Gonaїves, so I never made it to my afternoon meeting. Logistical troubles are common in Haiti; they are also part of working for an organization with Fonkoze’s limited resources. And they kept me overnight in the Baghdad of the Western Hemisphere (not for the violence, but for the physical damage that abounds, unabated).
At 4:08 am I woke up. But I wasn’t headed to Milot anymore, that’s now for another day. I was going to Cap-Haitian, Haiti’s second city; a coastal port city that boasts a history that includes having been burned to the ground on two separate occasions during the decade long Haitian Revolution.
On my last trip to Cap-Haitian I discovered a gem. A waterfront bakery that serves everything you’d expect from a first-class Haitian/French bakery, plus freshly prepared pizza and sandwiches. Entering through the spotless glass doors is a treat to the senses. After a lengthy period without such “luxury foods” entering the bakery is a test of willpower: am I disciplined enough not to buy a sandwich, two slices of Pizza, a cookie, and two cupcakes – all at once? This time I was controlled, leaving with just a sandwich, a French coconut pastry, and a guava juice.
Mid-Point Question: Is there anything more deliciously appealing than a collection of brightly colored tropical fruits displayed in wicker baskets?
After guava, it was time to get started with the credit agents from Cap-Haitian. The Cap-Haitian team is busy looking for clients who are on the one hand “very poor” women, and who on the other hand have not been engaged in a micro-business for the past six months (a stipulation of our donors). It may sound like the two go hand in hand – poor women are poor because they have no economic activities (hence no micro-business) – but we’re finding something different. (more…)
