On December 25, the Organization of American States removed their special representative, Ricardo Seitenfus, from Haiti. The reason was very simple. He told the truth.
In an interview four days earlier with the Swiss newspaper Le Temps, Seitenfus bluntly expressed the popular discontent which the Haitian people have been saying since the arrival of MINUSTAH (United Nations Stabilization Force in Haiti) on June 1, 2004 -- simply put, that their presence " solves nothing, it makes things worse. [They] want to turn Haiti into a capitalist country, an export platform for U.S. market, it's absurd." The French language article can be read here.
My third day in Haiti, walking down Avenue John Brown in the center of Port-au-Prince I was confronted point blank with the desperation of the cholera situation.
On the side of the road, a shirtless man with brown pants and no shoes lay on the sidewalk outside a busy market entrance -- eyes open, with his arm in the gutter and flies buzzing around his face. He was dead. A couple photographers quickly snapped photos and jumped back into their vehicles as the ambulance crew arrived to pick up the body. He was another victim of an outbreak which will only kill the poor and the vulnerable -- which unfortunately makes Haiti a deadly conductor for the spread of the disease.
July 12, 2010
The original letter, sent to Le Devoir in French, is available here.
Open letter to Mario Renaud, executive director, Centre for International Studies and Cooperation/Centre d'étude et de coopération internationale:
Late at night on March 17, former Haitian president Jean-Bertrand Aristide boarded a small plane with his family in Johannesburg. The following morning, he arrived in Haiti. It was just over seven years after he was kidnapped from his home in a U.S.-backed coup d'etat. Haiti has been ravaged by a massive earthquake that killed more than 300,000 people and left a million and a half homeless. A cholera epidemic carried in by United Nations occupation forces could sicken almost 800,000. A majority of the population lives on less than a dollar a day. Now, Aristide, by far the most popular figure in Haiti today and the first democratically elected president of the first black republic in the world, has returned home.
Haiti, I weep for you.
I hide my tears because I'm on a flight from Kelowna, British Columbia, to Toronto, and who knows, with all the heightened security I fear they may think something's amiss. I'm weeping as a prelude to joining my ancestors. So paranoid have we become. But I weep for you, Haiti, for your people, for the shit -- the unmitigated shit -- that life seems to throw your way.
Again and again.