The Erection Monitor> Travels

December 2nd, 2006

At 5 AM Hunter and I woke and he drove me to Port Au Prince's airport. There I caught a 7 AM flight aboard a 10 passenger puddle jumper to the city of Les Cayes, a relatively safe city in Southwestern Haiti. The flight followed the Northern coast of Grande Anse, that long stretch of land that juts into the Caribbean towards Jamaica. before crossing over a small mountain range and onto the Southern Coast of Haiti. I was met at the airport by my driver, Fabrice, who luckily spoke English and was a pretty smart dude. Without him I couldn't have done my job properly, but I'll get to that later.

I was driven to a hotel and met my fellow observers for Les Cayes, who had been flown down the day before. All three of them were Haitian Americans that had been living in the US at least 25 years each. In order to protect the innocent I will change their names to Jerry, John and Hohengo. Jerry was assigned to be the leader of our group. He had not been in Haiti for 27 years yet seemed to feel like he owned the place. He did all of this “I am a man of the people” kind of crap that irked me in a big way. John was an OK guy.. The gift of unintentional comedy to the group was Hohengo.

Hohengo was from this area and visited once every few years. He was pudgy, bald, had a goatee and lived in Chicago. He was a nice enough guy, although I was to learn he wasn't all that bright. What Hohengo lacked in brains he made up in virility, although fortunately I can only write this from anecdotal evidence. While Fabrice was driving us around town Hohengo would get Fabrice to stop the car when he saw an attractive woman. He would then wave her over to the car, chat her up and then hand her a stick of gum with his number written on it. Some women seem revolted, some seemed enticed and other seemed to like chewing gum. During his three nights in Les Cayes Hohengo would sleep with at least 5 different women. He was the erection monitor.

We were supposed to spend the day before the election scouting out polling locations, establishing a route and checking for mobile phone reception. Instead, my co-workers decided we would go to Hohengo's home village and hang out for the day. However, visiting Hohengo's village did give me an insight into why so many Haitians risk their lives to make it to the US. I know there are plenty of reasons, but what I was able to see first hand was how Hohengo interacted with the people from his hometown. Most of the people in his village were somehow related to Hohengo and I imagine a lot of them received money from him. Mind you Hohengo is not a rich man, I think he is a cab driver. But like many citizens of developing nations, Haitians depend on the remittances of the diaspora. He was not overtly lording over his hometown, but you could tell he expected to be treated like a returning prince. Again, Hohengo wasn't a bad guy, I just think he let his position in society get to his head. Heck, as a white traveler in developing countries I am sure I act similarly despite my best intentions.

We first visited his family tomb, which like many Haitian graves in the countryside is actually on their front yard instead of in a graveyard. He told me it contained the remains of many of his family members. We also visited his brother's home, one of the only solid modern concrete building in town. His brother had also been to the US, but had moved back to Haiti to raise his kids. We also met one of Hohengo's half brothers, who had never left Haiti. He lived in a small shack and ran a tiny store. He brought us coconuts which we drank and ate under trees from where they had come.

Later we ate lunch at one of Hohengo's cousins, a really nice women that had lived in the US for many years but returned to Haiti to take care of her mother who was suffering from severe Alzheimer's. She showed another side of the diaspora. She had grown up in a small primitive hut, but one of her sons was now going to Johns Hopkins medical school and another had a law degree from Harvard. You can only imagine how hard she had to work to provide her children with the opportunities to get into the world's top Universities.

Whether you want to give your family a chance for a better life, or be a pimp, you can see why people risk life and limb to become Americans. One of the greatest rewards of traveling in countries like Haiti for me is getting a better perspective of just how lucky I am. Wow, this turned out pretty sappy...

On that note, did you know you can hunt the elderly in Haiti? It's just like the movie “Hard target,” staring Jean-Claude Van Damme, only the targets are much softer and can be lured to their deaths with bowls of hot porridge. As lawless as Haiti is, this is only a luxury that foreigners can afford, so again, I feel pretty lucky. Lucky enough to try to get three stuffed octogenarians through customs.