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The Spelman spotlight.
November 01, 1978
Image 7
The Spelman spotlight., November 01, 1978, Image 7
Funding for the digitization of this title was provided by a Digitizing Hidden Collections grant from the Council on Library and Information Resources (CLIR). The grant program is made possible by funding from The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.
About The Spelman spotlight. (Atlanta , Georgia) 1957-1980 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 1, 1978)
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Newspaper Page Text
Page 7 - Spelman Spotlight
Impressions From Haiti
by Adele Sheron Newson
Having had the experience of
studying three weeks in Haiti
affords me the opportunity to
express my impressions of this
enigma popularly known as the
“Pearl of the Caribbean.”
I was at once struck with two
opposing emotions while living in
the country. They are love and
hate.
My hatred of HaitLsterns from
many sources. Poverty is rampant.
Many of the occupants of this
country wear little more .than rags
to clothe their bodies. I witnessed
'the most horrid cases of starvation
at the Good Samaritan Hospital
that I could have ever imagined in
my accustumed-to-luxury mind.
The skin of both children and
adults (whose normal skin colors
were ebony) had actually turned a
light hue as a result of a devastat-
ingly low protein content in their
diet. Each patient looked much
longer than his years; for, indeed, a
lack of nourishment does not allow
for maturated bodies.
The soil of Haiti was once fertile
and productive. This is no longer
the case. Families are unable to live
off the rain-eroded soil. Trees have
been cut and used for fire wood
without having been replaced. This
is the primary factor aiding the ero
sion process. Haiti is a country in
dire need of agricultural tech
nology The roads are nothing
more than glorified gravel pits.
Driving is close to impossible on
these unreasonable facsimiles of
streets. A comfortable and relax
ing drive in the country side is all
but impossible. I am presently
wondering if most drivers have a
fundamental understanding of
basic street signs, such as STOP.
Still, I am not certain if speed limits
exist in Haiti. What’s more, the
concept of the pedestrian having
the right of way is totally non
existent, particularly in the Port-
au-Prince area. When one crosses
the street in Port-au-Prince he is
taking his life into his hands.
The sewer system is an opened
one. This in itself allows for every
type of infectious disease imagina
ble. The smell emanating from the
streets on a very hot and dry day is
unbearable. And what’s worse, one
can actually witness a peasant
washing or refreshing himself by
capturing some of this freely run
ning water.
The water is not sanitary and
drinking it ensures the wrath of
Montezuma, (i.e. diarrhea).
Whether the typical tourist drinks
treated water or not, he will invari
able contract a severe case of diar
rhea. That is, if he ventures outside
the confines of his luxurious hotel
and experiences a “taste” of the
Haitian Culture.
Ah! But Haiti is also a treasure
chest of wonders. The peasants of
Haiti are remarkable. I am con
vinced that there are no other peo
ple on earth like them. They are
gay and indulgent in the midst of
such overwhelming adversities.
There exist a brotherhood among
these men that allows for a giving
Photo by James D. Me Junk ins
A Haitian woman carries her goods to the market
and sharing that can be witnessed
no where else. They possess a love
for and kindness towards one
another that is moving. Theirs is a
confident and arrogant walk that
lends itself to the interpretation of
“I am a man.” or “I am a women.” I
have never seen a black people
carry themselves with such grace
and dignity as do my black broth
ers and sisters in Haiti.
There are two phenomenons
unique to the Haitian peasant;
creole and voodoo. Creole is the
language of the peasant. It’s com
position and syntax are a reflection
of the Haitian soul. The first slaves
were introduced to Haiti in 1509.
These men were unable to com
municate with one another because
they came from different tribes.
However, by 1750 all Negroes
could communicate via creole and
all had one belief—voodoo.
Voodoo is a practical religion. It
is a sort of nature worship that
allows man to live in harmony with
the forces of nature. I doubt if there
is in any other western culture so
universal a cohesion to a common
religion as the Haitian peasants
adherence to voodoo.
Voodoo is manifested in the
daily activity of the peasant. The
religion does not allow for men to
do evil to one another. This is
exemplified through the virtually
non-existent homicide rate.
There is a national preoccupa
tion with art in Haiti. I favor the
primitive art. Wood carvings,
colorful paintings, and metallic
plaques are among the treasures to
behold. It is distinguished from all
other art in the world by virtue of
the actual artists themselves. The
truly great paintings of Haiti were
done by men who did not know
what it meant to be educated in
painting. These men saw an image
and reproduced it as it appeared in
their minds.
The Haitian people are the most
attractive people in the world. As
in the case with blacks in America,
Haitians run the gamut of hues
from ultra fair to sepia. I have
never seen an unattractive Haitian.
They are indeed nature’s most
creative work. Permit me to elabo
rate on the male for I am of the fair
sex. The stature of their men are
comparable to that of the statues of
Greek gods. The very dark, tall,
and slim Haitian is the most awe
inspiring person in the world. He
possesses an ebony skin color with
out the usual red undertones that
one so often finds in the darkest of
American Negroes. His skin most
often has the consistency of silk.
His teeth are as white as milk which
when contrasted with the darkness
of the skin serves to produce an
incredible effect. His eyes are large
and clear and his nose creates the
illusion of arrogance. I will go no
further for, try as I may, my des
cription can do him little justice.
It is entirely possible to love and
feel kinship for Haiti and at the
same time hate it and want to be far
removed from such a God forsaken
place. The question is; which emo
tion is most strongly felt. I would
have to admit that my love for this
country is much stronger than my
hate for it. Haiti for me is an
enchanted land where time slows;
even though, there, one still
encounters sixty seconds a minute.
It is where one can relax and
delight in the differences of others,
and learn that God lives.