I Have Become Accustomed To Rejection

The media has, in recent days, made much of the evils of the Haitian elite. I will not sit here and say that the Haitian elite are without their faults but the notion that the Haitian elite treat the rest of the country without regard is really quite offensive. I’ve read articles that say the elite (for lack of a better term) just step over the poor and don’t even know how to communicate with them because of the language barrier (French vs. Creole). There are few Haitians, from any class who do not speak Creole. Even the Americans in Haiti learn Creole quite quickly. The reality in Haiti, as in many Third World countries, is that the rich and the working poor could not exist without one another. Without the elite, what little economy Haiti has would not exist. There would be no jobs. There would be nothing at all. Without the working poor, nothing would get done. Everyone in Haiti is pretty clear on the reality that we all need each other.

There are many Haitian elite who are classist and behave abhorrently. Exploitation does take place and it is unacceptable that so much wealth is concentrated in the hands of so few. At the same time, is that concentration of wealth unique to Haiti? I don’t think so. The primary difference in terms of wealth distribution between the US and Haiti is that here in the US we have a middle class.  There are also many among the upper class who are mindful of the importance of respecting all Haitians, and who treat those who work for them equitably. In Haiti, the average household functions with the crucial support of many domestic employees–maids, nannies, gardeners, chauffeurs, caretakers and more. These people become part of your family, often for generations. The elite help their employees build homes, pay for their childrens’ educations. This is not something that deserves special attention. It’s the least one could do but I say this to simply point out that the media really has no understanding of Haiti and how the society works (for better or worse).   It is really shortsighted to assume that the Haitian elite (not to be confused with the government which is another issue entirely) is as corrupt, exploitative and unfeeling as the media would have you believe.

On to more important matters.

Hans and Edna have worked for my family for nearly ten years. Edna started as a housekeeper then became the manager of my mom’s gas station and now is an office manager at my dad’s company. Hans is the right hand man. There is nothing he doesn’t do. He is a chauffeur and facilitator. He is a protector. He is a supervisor at my dad’s company, keeping track of the heavy equipment and fuel. He is fiercely loyal and protective not only of my parents but my brothers and I. When my brother and my cousin were 16, they wanted to take a car for a joyride in PAP. They thought driving in PAP would be the same as driving in the States. Hans jumped in front of the car and refused to let them leave without him driving because he knew that two diaspora boys driving around in PAP aimlessly was a recipe for disaster. Both Edna and Hans are extremely intelligent.  Had they been afforded the privilege of being born in the US, they would have become anything they wanted.

They have three children–Immacula (14), Clifford, (16) and Alex (9). Clifford is a bit of a trouble-maker but he is a charming boy, taller than his father. He is their only surviving child. Immacula was a beautiful girl, tall, slender, sassy, adored by her father. Alex was witty and ridiculously smart and the cutest boy you ever did see. Though his parents adore all their children, Hans and Edna could not help but let it show once in a while that Alex was their favorite.  Immacula died instantly, crushed by her home. Alex’s legs were crushed but he survived the initial earthquake. Hans paid someone to break down an obstructing wall so he could free his children. Hans carried Alex through the streets looking for medical help but could not find any. His youngest child died in his arms. He had to bury his children himself. He laid them to rest together in a shallow grave. Edna is inconsolable. She can barely sit up and has not spoken since the earthquake. Hans is trying to be strong. He is a man of such character and resolve that he went to work after burying his children. This morning, my dad told him, “We cannot take away your sorrow but we will help you rebuild and we will try to help you through this.” Hans said, “I know, Ingénieur.” For the past three mornings, he goes to my parents’ apartment which is uninhabitable but has food. He only takes a little each day because he, Edna and Clifford are living with so many other people (at a relatives home) who would steal his food if he brought too much. He doesn’t share where he’s getting this food from. This morning he also said, “My life is over.” To know that something like this can happen to people who are so loving and good is unbearable. These stories need to be told.

Hans, Edna, Clifford, Immacula and Alex at the Hotel Montana for dinner with my family in June 2008

Alex and Immacula June 2008