One of the teachers tells me about a meeting in the countryside of Jacmel. Young Haitians in their late 20s and 30s gather to talk about social problems. That sounds so neat I tell him, I invite myself. Two weeks later we attend. The meeting is 30 minutes by motorcycle. I take the other American lady, T, living in the house and one of visitors, C, from Portauprince. On the board is “Welcome Fariha Tayyab and friends” we’re asked to lead the meeting. I lie at the feet of the Haitian people, honored to be at their service. I try to explain this. We are asked to lead the discussion. We talk green. We talk about recycling. We talk about trash. We talk about deforestation. How do you teach people how to recycle? Where does the trash go if we collect it and not pile it and burn it? It just stays around. People don't understand the need to recycle. How do you tell people to stop chopping down trees non systematically when they're all starving in poverty? All these concerns arise. Change starts through modeling. Change starts through one.
Environmental degradation in Haiti is unparalleled. This country is at the midst of environmental crisis on many different levels. 90% deforested land remains and problems such as- eroding loss of top soil and soil fertility, flooding, agricultural chemicals, intensive lack of renewable water resources, radioactive and chemical toxic waste dumping by US, charcoal fuel production, endangered species - only grow worse.
The meeting is 30 minutes away by motorcycle. Jacmel is breath taking. Huge island trees hang over the sandy road paths. We ride on a motorcycle through the countryside around the mountains. We go through a river bed. We stop at the river bed. I walk across. The fresh water is up to my ankles. It is a dull clear blue. I see the pebbles. The water consumes me. As I look down I feel my body moving in the same direction as current, I feel I may fall into the actual river with it. The current gets a bit strong half way across. The whole scene we pass through is a break in the mountains and country side. The river bed along the mountains captivates me. I feel like I’m in Africa. Haiti is the Africa of the west. I see other people and motorcycles crossing slowly. I feel like I am in the Lion King. Everything is so surreal, but so real. We take pictures. We walk across to meet motorcycle on other side of the river. We see the river bed again as we wind through mountains back to the city. I want to come back. I think of the other cities. I think of Jacmel. I think of the beach and the countryside. I think of haven in a country. I think of retreat. I wonder if people come here for mental retreat. Earlier that week I am given a present, a tshirt, it reads translated, ‘Jacmel, I’m crazy for you’
The lush green countryside of Jacmel, the mountains, the valleys, the rivers, the beaches, the overall landscape is still so surreal to me. Even as I stand on the roof, and glance at the sea, meshing into beach, meshing into mountains, I ask myself if this is really happening. I do not want to see the day I leave. Jacmel, you are so alluring. I will always be crazy for you.
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