Commentary: Petit-Goave note book

Commentary: Petit-Goave note book Published on Saturday, September 26, 2009 By Jean H Charles Haiti has ten major cities besides Port au Prince, the capital. Four of them have a quality of life that makes them an oasis in a desert where good governance is as scarce as water in the Sahara. We can count amongst them St Marc with its deep port from where most of the succulent Haitian coffee departs for Europe during colonial times and long after. Jean H Charles MSW, JD is Executive Director of AINDOH Inc a non profit organization dedicated to building a kinder and gentle Caribbean zone for all. He can be reached at: jeanhcharles@aol. Petionville, small Vail, Colorado-like without the snow, with its mountain villas perched all over the cliffs providing view and sun a go-go. She also has a no-nonsense woman mayor who fights against all odds to keep the city in fine shape. Jacmel, much talked about lately, is a quaint city where the proud population labor to take charge of their city with or without support from the government. Yet, as in Iphigenia borrowing a gasp from King Agamemnon, "I see that there are acts that will set the city on a course that will one day bring it to its end."… And there is Petit Goave, a magnificent surprise! I visited Petit Goave recently during its fiesta season. As previously reported in several columns, the best time to visit and enjoy Haiti and its towns and cities is during the fiesta of each city. The calendar of saints in Haiti is a serious and an important itinerary for businessmen and entrepreneurs who may travel from town to town with carousel and entertainment for young and old. I was in Cape Haitian around the 15th of August, the day of our Lady of Assumption, a major feast in the Catholic Christendom liturgy. It is also a major feast day for all the main cities of Haiti. Except it is business as usual in the major towns like Port au Prince and Cape Haitian. We have the same culture in the United States where the feast days are blasé except in New York City where St Patrick brings all Ireland and the rest of the country to Manhattan on March 17. So I flew to Port au Prince, to be closer to Petit Goave, located two hours from the capital. I chose public transportation for the pilgrimage. Following Christ's advice to his disciples, I took only my toothbrush with me, hoping to receive shelter and a pillow from the revelers. I was not disappointed. The trip was most pleasant, a magnificent vista that invites the drivers to forget that the road can also kill. My eyes were wide open to admire the sea on one side and the mountain on the other. My fellow travelers, because maybe of my gray hair, were very courteous. I was offered a seat by a young lad who told me: "Come grandparent, take mine." This honorable title is often used to greet a person of advanced age in Haiti. I suspect it is the same term grandparent in English, which is converted in Creole with different meaning. I eavesdropped on their conversation – food and goods bought in the Dominican Republic to resale in Haiti – the high cost of housing -- the worry to find enough money to send the children back to school in September… I arrived safely in Grand Goave with the bus continuing its trip further south. I hopped into a taxi-Moto to bring me into the center of the town. I asked my driver to drop me at the church, richly decorated with the revelers in white and blue, the vista inside the church was comforting and soothing. Everybody was in their best Sunday dress, piously praying for that major favor that will change their lives. I gauged, through the attendance, that Petit Goave has a rich, stable, and pleasant middle class. I felt good; it seems as though the social and political trauma that has shaken Haiti in the last fifty years has spared Petit Goave. The procession after the church service was cathartic. It passed through well-lit streets, beautiful well-designed homes to end into the courtyard of the town hospital. I asked some nuns around me whether they ran the hospital. They told me it was government managed. What a surprise -- a well-run public hospital administered by the government in Petit Goave! It was now 10 pm, time for serious party. I set myself to find the best party in town. My first foray ends up nowhere. The taxi-Moto drove far and deep into the night to bring me around two nightclubs. The music was loud and inviting, but there was no one inside. I was told that people party late; I should wait a little bit more. I knew better, I took another Moto ride into town and found the real party led by a popular band: New Look. I enjoyed the time and was taken in for the remaining of the night by a hospitable family. The next day, the day of the feast, I went to church again. What a divine vista! The bishop of Nippes, surrounded by some thirty priests concelebrated the mass. In his homily he urged the revelers to stop playing the guinea game of trusting no one. He also urged them to convert from the game of the fish who saved a man from drowning in the middle of the sea to bring him right back when the man thanked the fish for saving his life. I was invited to enjoy the banquet with the priests, the bishop and the officials of the town, mingling with these men of God with whom I could observe the gracefulness of some and the not so gracefulness of others. I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting Petit Goave, its magnificent public square, and its carenage that can become the home for multinational hotels. I stopped by the Relay de l'Empereur, a rambling house that now serves as a hotel. It was the private home of Emperor Faustin Soulouque, a former comical and despot ruler of Haiti. Petit Goave is working; it is neat, large with enough room to accommodate more people. I was told that CRS – Catholic Relief Services -- has adopted the city. What a relief! I came back to Port au Prince, satisfied, happy and hopeful that Haiti can be rebuilt starting with Petit Goave. It has all the ingredients to leverage existing resources and make it a first success story in the recovery or the renaissance of Haiti. I shall remember when I have more say in the fate of that country.