Haiti: Part 2 -- cycling Haiti

As I was saying last post, we spent a month in Haiti last week J For those of you map-oriented folks, we entered Haiti in the north, via the Dajabon-Ouanaminthe crossing, then pedalled west stopping in Fort Liberté and Cap-Haitien, then south towards Gonaives (jumped on a bus to get over a short stretch of bad road), Saint-Marc, and Cabaret. From Cabaret we made a break for the border at Jimani (DR), passing through the outskirts of Port-au-Prince, the nation’s capital. A most interesting, challenging, and eye-opening experience it was!


All in all, the cycling itself was fine. For the most part we had decent paved roads – with the major exception, as alluded to last post, of the final 40 kms to the border at Jimani. For some inexplicable reason, that section, despite being the main highway link between Port-au-Prince and Santo Domingo (DR), is the worst stretch of road we have encountered, ever. Basically unrideable without a suspension mountain bike. My circa-1980s no-suspension mountain bike didn’t like it, and a somewhat critical piece of it – the nut where the rear rack attaches to the frame – snapped off. Ah hey, all part of the fun. That’s what duct tape is for!


The real challenge, as budget cycle-tourists, is the virtual absence of infrastructure. Simply finding places to stay and things to eat, becomes epically problematic. Breaking down in the middle of nowhere would have been catastrophically bad. There just isn’t any safety net. Although, maybe one of the U.N. convoys might have had pity on us. Thankfully, we had no major breakdowns (other than my rack issue on the home stretch).


Speaking of the UN, they’re everywhere driving around in their air-conditioned SUVs. Upon reflection, we realized that we had never been anywhere requiring a UN presence. Kind of a statement about the general state of affairs here. Our first night in Haiti, a city called Fort Liberté, we pulled up to our target hotel. It was shut down and boarded up. Of course it was. It couldn’t be that easy! After a conversation in French with a man sitting in the shade nearby, we were told of another hotel. We got the impression that this was the default accom for us blans (blan means “white” in Haitian creole, and is the generic label given to foreigners). It was. And, it was our first experience with the hotel-compound approach to accommodation here in Haiti.

Inside the wire

There is no such thing as a budget hotel in Haiti, where “average Haitians” might stay for the night. You either have money, lots of it, or you don’t. Basic bottom-end hotel rooms start at $60, and are often $80 to $100+ (i.e., U.S. dollars). These are rooms that would cost 15 or 20 bucks anywhere else. This, in a country where food on the street costs pennies, and the average daily wage, if you have a job, is 1 or 2 dollars. Sense? It just doesn’t make any. The concept of budget travel-tourism – where one independently gets to out-of-the-way places and finds budget accommodation on the fly – is as foreign here, and impossible, as outdoor ice hockey. Presumably, the idea is that if you are a blan (U.N., NGOs, etc), then you have money. In that case, you are going to be driven around in an air conditioned car, probably with a driver, and, you will stay at very nice expensive hotels, complete with swimming pools and bars. In a country where a beer at the hotel bar costs more than the average daily wage, hotels are fortresses of security containing more comforts and expenses than the average Haitian can even imagine. The commando-looking guys with the shotguns at the gate keep out the riffraff. Hotel compounds then become islands of relatively outrageous first-world comforts in an ocean of poverty. It’s a bizarre and unknown world to us. We’re usually part of the world outside the wire, not inside! But admittedly, after a chaotic sweaty walk in the streets, getting back inside the wire for a beer and a swim is pretty nice!

Ryan and Stacie Rouse

Two major highlights punctuated our Haiti mission. First, we took a day in Cap-Haitien, Haiti’s number-2 city, to venture out to the Citadelle la Ferrière – a gigantic (largest in the Americas) awe-inspiring mountain fortress completed in 1820, and intended as a post-independence base to repel the French in the event of an invasion. As an UNESCO world heritage site, the place is truly impressive, and would be a major tourist center anywhere else in the world. As it is, we had the place to ourselves (if you don’t include the team of Chilian U.N. police). The 900-m climb up the cobblestone pavement combined with views of the ridgetop fortress off in the distance, was remarkably reminiscent of Machu Picchu and the infamous Inka Trail. It was strange to have such an incredible site all to ourselves. Although, perhaps the most exciting part was the 30-minute moto ride (motorcycle “taxis” are the standard here and in the DR) out to the trailhead! Do not let go, do not think about 3 helmetless people going highway speed on a Honda 150 in a country with no public medical system, do not think at all, just enjoy the ride J


The second highlight, and perhaps another trip highlight, was hooking up with Ryan Rouse, a young American Baptist pastor and missionary, and his wife Stacie. The two graciously offered their spare bedroom to us after Amy’s hail-Mary e-mail asking for accommodation advice near the town of Cabaret (there is none). Ryan and Stacie, along with their staff of 90 Haitians, and with the help of missionary teams from the U.S., manage and run an orphanage and school – The Cabaret Baptist Children’s Home – for 50 of Haiti’s endless stream of parentless children.


The work these people are doing is truly incredible. Spending two days and two nights with Ryan and the orphans was indeed a humbling and moving experience. The care and love these kids are getting is unparalleled. Ironically, orphans are typically thought to have gotten a raw deal in life. In this case, they are the lucky ones. Wow, if the world had more Ryan and Stacies, it would be a better place. Selfless to the core, these guys are making us all look bad. If you are looking for a charity, this is it! 100% of donated money goes to the orphans. Not a penny is skimmed – a perpetual problem with many of the overly-bureaucratic NGOs operating around the world. Better yet, come for a visit and see it first-hand as a volunteer – they welcome it. Here’s the website, give generously: http://jbahaiti.org/


OK, we’re back on the other side of the wire, in the DR! Having a cool Presidente (remember...DR’s main beer label) as I type, and enjoying the surrounding chorus of español. Tomorrow we’re back on the road, and heading east towards the big smoke of Santo Domingo and the airport where we will fly home. It’s the final leg of our journey...sniff. More soon. Hasta luego baby.