Cynicism
is cheap – you can buy it at any Monoprix store – it’s built into all
poor-quality goods.
From The Comedians by Graham Greene
Today is the Day of the Dead. For a while I was
thinking Voodoo and something spookier than Halloween, maybe even sinister, but
it’s really just the Haitian version of All Souls’ Day. In some ways one might
consider it a syncretic hand-me-down holiday from the Catholics adapted to the Haitian
context with local beliefs that originally arrived via West African slaves.
Like many things here it is a complex blending of traditional customs and
cultural cast-offs which evolve in a new place. Displacement does this and
Haiti’s history is irrevocably bound up in the forced exile of slavery and survival
as an oppressed and dislocated population which forged a new identity and
future out of necessity in a foreign land. African religious ideas took root
and grafted on Christian iconography to help form Voodoo.
One of the themes of this day is prayers for
the deceased - all souls and the faithful departed - who have gone from this
world. Many societies have their variations of this, such as Obon in Japan, when people remember
their dead and consecrate the day to releasing them to the afterlife. While
some might believe that heaven awaited the deceased, there is a pervasive idea
that assistance is required or else the dead might linger and cause problems.
It seems in the Caribbean and Latin America an annual ceremony to assist the
dead make that journey to paradise and avoid a purgatory which might be holding
them is common. The idea of a holding place of punishment is decidedly Catholic,
and one that Graham Greene, author of The
Comedians set in Haiti, was familiar. It blends with the fetishes of Voodoo
easily. However, one might argue that
Haiti has been for many a kind of purgatory or even hell on earth for
centuries. Surely death could not be worse than enduring a few short decades as
a slave to French plantation owners or a citoyen
with politics contrary to Papa Doc who ruled this country with a firm if at
times brutal hand via his thuggery, the Tonton
Macoute. He gave academic legitimacy to Voodoo as a student and then wove
it into the fabric of Haitian society through politics. These kinds of beliefs sometimes help remove oneself from the
purely prosaic aspects of life and the fact that life hasn’t improved that much
for many here. Perhaps the dead are the lucky ones, not the people who pray for
them, worry for their daily bread and sufficiently good health to endure another
difficult day.
Some of my colleagues have argued that there
was more respect and decency under the Duvalier regime despite its regular
horrors. At least you knew who was in charge. These days democracy on this side
of Hispanola is laced with satire and is comedic in its insubstantiality.
People vote for personalities with no meaningful way to effect change. Almost inevitably
within months the citizenry takes to the streets to protest, blocking roads and
burning tires, because all this is all they can do to make their democratic
voice heard. No one expects the government to improve their lives. They are so
poorly represented. Many Haitian politicians have postured for fame and
self-seeking gain. Just look at the pop
star leaders of Haiti of recent times representing legitimacy and stereotypes. Michael
Martelly (Kompa legend and ineffectual post-quake ex-president) and Wyclef Jean
(ex-Fugees front man, 2010 presidential candidate and defrauder extraordinaire
of millions of dollars promised to Haiti through his charity). This is the
political landscape that decent, educated and hard-working Haitians bemoan and
the majority are star-struck by before they realise that the political elite
will line their pockets and leave things just as they were if not worse. And
when someone half-decent gets to power no one wants to pay their taxes and
accept the hardships that must be shared to make life better for all.
Sadly, in my darker moments, I cannot help but
think of Haiti as a gaudy knock-off version of Western democracies that have
set the precedent of corruption, pandering to populist demands and electioneering
for profit. Given the influence of America in Haiti both socially and
politically, this should really be no surprise. However, usefulness of
self-determination has long seemed pretty self-evident, as has the ugly
influence of interference.
On the roads you could be forgiven for thinking
that Haiti is the dumping ground for the world’s second-hand goods. Old trucks
with bent chasses lurch down the roads like zombies and worn out premium brand
trainers are strutted around on dance floor in corrugated iron shacks with
blaring music by faux-bling rap-star replicas. Haitians are worth more than
this but accept less than they deserve in politics, policing and the produce
needed to sustain them. We think our trash is good enough for the Haitians and
local perceptions of the superiority of lifestyles and brands from the West are
insidious. The goods dumped in Haiti are often the items we no longer have a
use for and the emulation of the Western democratic ideal is actually a poor
quality lie we’ve chosen to believe also. It’s the MacDonald’s effect – one of
the most cynical offerings the world has ever seen. Unperishable, highly
processed and marketed as healthy and nutritious when the truth is the
opposite. And the appetite for this crap is massive. Those golden arches,
everywhere in the West, are rapidly growing in poorer countries. They claim to
improve the quality of life by association with an ideal that betrays you with
every mouthful. Why do so few people speak up or act differently? Is it any
wonder that countries like Haiti don’t see through the façade?
Oscar Wilde once wrote that “we are all in the gutter,
but some of us are looking at the stars”. With the glittering stars of the
Caribbean sky overhead and little prospect of replicating the flawed democracy
and development of America and the West, wouldn’t it be refreshing for the
Haitians to look to themselves and reject the ideas and offerings which for
generations have stolen liberty and prosperity from them? Imagine it, humble
yet honest, drawing on authentic Haitian culture which acknowledges slavery and
its religious traditions looking within for inspiration, promising something
achievable and home-grown that might capture the imagination of a nation and
bring about the substantive change that so many long for. Unfortunately the
world is not so straightforward or permissive enough to let them choose a
radical alternative from the status quo, even when that condition is miserable
and takes courage to change that very few have the stomach for, even me. I’m
not sure I would choose it if the situation was reversed. So what do we turn
to? Probably faith and hope in something beyond the current circumstances
because we cannot change the world much even when we act like the change we
want to see. I came back to Haiti hoping to do some small good. And I have
pursued this with heart. The problem is that there is often no tangible measure
for how this makes much of a difference.
