The following is a transcription of my Haitian diary:

6Nov.

Disembarking the plane at Port-au-Prince I resist the urge--which I
always get exiting a plane down the stairs onto the tarmac--to wave
Jacki Onassis style. This airport is more like a greyhound bus
station with UN soldiers from Croatia, Brazil, Belize, and all over.
Next we race frantically through the traffic standing in the back of a
truck with all of the luggage. Racing, wind in my eyes, smells. The
electricity is out everywhere except where people have generators.
It's dark and we're going top speed, moving within a couple of inches
of the colourful bus on our right. There are no seats in the bus,
everyone stands, and pedal to the metal. Up dark roads the headlights
reveal canteens and snack shops open in the walls along this curving
street. Patrons standing around, but no electricity. No sidewalks
walls like a fortress line the streets, people, trucks swerve, honk.
This guest house is quite nice. They have a generator. And a pool.
And a gate. We honk about 30 times and someone finally opens up. They
have food. Beans and rice. They have two guards. The guards sit in
lawn chairs. They both have machine guns in their laps. Pointed
either direction. One of them has a clock radio, blinking 12:00,
trying to tune in a station. It is plugged into a 50' yellow extension
cord. Reminds me of Just Coffee before the fire marshal came by (the
extension cord, not the guns).

7Nov.

Tap taps:
The buses here aren't really buses per se. Some of them are old school
buses, some are little pickup trucks. They are called tap-tap's
because you tap to stop and get off and all of them are brilliantly
painted and named. Many are christian themed: God is Love, Maranatha,
Resurrection, Halellujah, Merci Mon Dieu, Oh My God, or with murals
of Moses and the ten commandments. Che' is on several. Many dance
hall themed compete with big pulsing sounds. Lots of Marley, Reggae,
Rasta themed. Some favourites: One with a huge picture of Bob Marley
singing, the lion of judah and the works, called Woman No Cry. One
called Big Love with a picture on the side of a Lion crouching over a
supine, nude woman. One that had painted on the side windows: Bulls,
Knicks, 76'ers, and also the words Kobe Bryant, Micheal Jordan, Allen
Iverson, and covering the entire back a painting of Kobe Bryant playing
an electric guitar. I didn't see the paintings on this one, I just saw
the name painted across the top of the back window--Diaspora Forever.
Some food:
Why in Haiti am I eating imported white spaghetti, wedges of laughing
goat cheese, white bread. There is something very wrong with this.
Riding in a vehicle:
I just act high, space out, and literally fill my mind with
pornographic thoughts in order to keep my mind off of the dangerous
madness surrounding me. How have we not killed or been killed yet?
This makes chicago look like a oasis of even handed calmness, just
maxin' and relaxin.'

8Nov.

In the mountains now. Walked all around today with my friend Nelice.
These hills are alive, everywhere with shacks, and huts, and people.
Talking, and walking down narrow paths drinking rum, looking at coffee
and scenery, meeting people, laughing. We go to a cockfight and hang
out for a couple of hours. He told me that Haitians like me very much
because they have never seen a blanc hang out for so long. Or smoke
Haitian cigarettes with them. Or pass a bottle of Haitian rum with
them. Basically it was super fun, and loud, and laughing. I lost
$7Hatian ($1US) betting on Nelice's uncle's cock. Oh well. Coffee here
everywhere, but there is no one to sale it to. This is a beautiful and
peaceful place on this earth. Everywhere is growing coffee, and
mangoes, and bananas, and oranges, and papayas, and avocados, and
grapefruits. Mssr. Blanc. The kids say--Blanc, blanc--as we walk by.
Or--Bonjou Blanc. Or--th, th, th, th, th--I asked Nelice what they are
saying, and he said they are trying to sound like they are speaking
english. Manno is my little friend, maybe 11? He wants to talk to me.
He knows Kreole and is learning french and spanish in school, but he
won't learn english until high school. So we speak in halting, broken
french. Halting and broken because of me. Anyhow I have had enough
rum, and prestige beers for tonight.

9Nov.

Things to remember:
Elista, my little friend with the eye problem who cannot go to school.
Emanice, my friend who carries things and smells and gets drunk real
easily and is funny.
Riding in the back of a truck with 9 other men, standing. I said to
Nelice that we don't ride like this in the US, and he asked if we all
sat in the truckbed.[
Drinking a whole bottle of rum between Nelice, his cousin Elie, and
myself in the back of the pickup, on the way home from Miragoane.
Getting drunk on the porch with all my new friends.
Fonkoze--the micro loan bank.
Emanice saying he was sober, and trying to walk in a straight line.
All my friends laughing, and highfiveing.
Goodness beauty love.

10Nov.

I never have time to write.
Today:
I hung out with Arol for awhile. He was not hung over like the rest of
us because he only drinks one beer. He still had a blast last night.
He is an agronomist who lives in Port-au-Prince and works here, and
teaches at the school. He told me--I like your way man. We hung out
for awhile, and then exchanged contact info and said goodbye.
I walked maybe 5 miles with Nelice and Elie to Nelice's house to meet
his girlfriend, Edline, and to meet their son, Kenley. We smoked some good Haitian and had
a lovely walk. I got sunburned and they started calling me rouge
instead of blanc. We walked around for awhile and saw the sights and
the great beauty. We see a few children with frizzy red hair which is
a sign of severe protein deficiency. We saw some UN guys and when they said hello, pretended we didn't know english. We sat at his house and enjoyed
ourselves. We picked up 25lbs. of coffee Nelice and his family had
prepared and carried it for a mile or so. Then we got a
motorcycle-taxi and all 3 of us and the driver squeezed on and rode
down the mountain. The driver turned off the motorcycle to save gas,
and we careened down the mountain at top speed. Pretty fun. We bought
some rum and walked the last mile. We just sat around under the
almond tree and visited. All the kids come and take pictures with my
camera and try on my sunglasses. Manno wants me to see his house so I
go and meet his mother. His 3 brothers and his sister, Lucie, and a nephew are there
too. They want me to sit in a chair. This is a twig hut, but it
has a tin roof, so it is good. We listen to reggae and dance for
awhile. They think it is hilarious when I try to dance. Later I go
eat and finish the rum with my friends. Everyone asks: Is this your
first time to Haiti? When are you coming back?

Today:

I walk with Nelice, smoke, drink rum/ good story about old man with
dirty hands/ oranges and guavas/ home/ supper/ Manno's neck/ sleep/
good times/ dreams with Nelice/ all is good

12Nov.

Everyone wants my email and phone number. I write it out a hundred
times, because everyone wants their own hand written copy. Say
goodbye to all of my new friends. We hang out for a couple of hours. A couple of kids
skipped school this morning in order to hang out.
It always takes awhile before we can finally go. Suddenly a frantic 2
or 3 hour drive down from the mountains sitting in the back of a pickup
with luggage for 5 people plus 3 huge bags of grapefruits plus 4 people
plus 2 chickens. Fun goddamn time. Now in Leogane. Nelice to take a
tap-tap to visit tomorrow. maybe ping-pong finally? So many sights
sounds feelings I don't know what to say. Would love to smoke. My
books bore me. I have a hard time with the blancs. Jan is awesome.
I had so much to say, but not any longer. I can no longer speak
english, except in halting phrases with french and kreole mixed in.
Dinner table at this guest house: everyone talking about how goddamned
important their work is/ meanwhile a Haitian man, Jean, is at the table
with us and no one speaks with him. He speaks no anglais whatsoever,
so communication c'est difficile pour mois. Mais, we get along, split
a beer, and he shows me pictures of his 3 (trois) children. He is very
proud of them and is sorry for me that I have none. He tries to teach
me some kreole words/ but I learn very slowly. All I remember is that
conch is gran con and it was delicious.

13Nov.

Nelice came down to Leogane today to meet me. After lunch we walk all
over, find a little bar, and drink little 175ml bottles of rum with
bottles of coke. Lots of talk about Haiti, and coffee, and life. He
hails a man with a phone (people walk around with what look like
desktop phones with an antena, the equivalent of a payphone) and calls
Edline, his girlfriend. I talk to her for a second. She is very nice,
worried about me if Nelice is not around.
How the hell is everyone so clean all the time? I am filthy/ dusty/
dirty/ can't get all the way clean, but everyone here sparkles.

14Nov.

My last Haitian day. We get up at 5:30 and walk around for awhile
before all the shops are open and sidewalks crowded with people selling
things and motorcycles and dump trucks honking. People crowded around
a truck selling ice. A man straps a huge block of ice on the back of a
motorcycle-taxi and gets a ride. Nelice and I are a little woozy this
morning and our stomachs are befouled, mainly I guess because we split
a whole bottle of rum after supper last night. It is strange how well
rum goes with this climate. We made a pretty serious dent in the
national supply this week. Anyway we got some breakfast from a woman
on the street and walked around and sat for awhile. Then we took a
motorcycle-taxi out to this sugar refinery in a
village--Darbonne--about a half hour from here.

Sugar:

We got there and two guards with big guns stopped us. One of the
guards asks us what we are doing there and we tell him and he asks for
my ID. I left it at the guest house. He asks if I have a camera, and
I give it to him. He tells me that he will keep it until I leave. We
are then ushered into an office and given chairs. A man named Max
comes in, he is delighted that our names are similar. I tell him that
I would like to see the refinery and maybe get a sample of the sugar.
He tells me that this is not possible because the Administrator is not
here, do I have any other business? I ask if they import any of their
sugar to the US? No, only to France-one moment. He pulls out his car
phone and calls the Administrator. The Administrator will be back at
1pm, if I would like to come back in a few hours. As we are leaving
the guard who has my camera comes to meet us. See--I told you I would
hold your camera--in english suddenly. We are about to go when he
suddenly decides that he will walk us around a little bit. This place
is huge and there are groups of men hanging out wherever there is
shade. Goats and pigs and chickens wandering around in the grass. He
and 2 other security take us to this ginormous building filled with
tractors and trailers. Way up high there is an elevator bridge to the
refinery the sugar comes across and is dumped into this enormous
bagging machine where it is put into 50kilo bags. There is a pile of
about 80 to 100 bags, and a couple sitting there opened. Okay that is
all the guard says and they escort us back to the motorcycle. The
guard tell us that he will wait for us and when we come back he will
give us the full tour.
We go back to Leogane and chill for awhile. Nelice gets his head
shaved at a barber. We go and have a couple of beers and then get some
lunch. Soup Joumou. Pumpkin soup with noodles that does wonders for
the stomach. Hotter that Hades today. We get a motorcycle and go back
to the refinery.
Men standing in the shade, someone runs and gets a chair for me and
Nelice explains to him that I like to stand with everyone else.
Someone says hurry come fast to see the Administrator, but we walk our
normal relaxed way, and get to the office and Bonjou all around. We
sit around a huge table, the Administrator is talking with 2 men. They
talk for 10 or so minutes and one man leaves. The Administrator asks
what our business is. I tell him that I was in the area and wanted to
see sugar production, how it works, pays, buy a sample--Daccor he says
then turns to the other man and talks for about 3 minutes and and then
talks to Nelice for a couple more. Nelice tells me--He says they do not
have any sugar. The Administrator tell me that it is too bad that I
came now, as they only produce Feb. through May. They produce very
little sugar, mostly syrup, and it is for local markets. He is sorry
he cannot help me. So we shake hands and leave. We meat the security
guard in the hallway, and he asks if we asked the Administrator if it
is okay for him to give us a tour. So we go back and ask him. He asks
when we would like it, and I say right now. One minute please. The
Administrator and the other man get up and we follow them to another
office which the Administrator goes into and starts talking with about
five men. We--Nelice, myself, the security (who just told me his name
was Gary), and the other man from the Administrators office stand there
for about ten minutes. Finally the other man say--Okay, it is okay if
you go now. So we go outside. We are walking to the refinery when
Gary asks me if I have my camera. No, I did not bring it this time.
It's too bad, I give you authorization to take photo. Gary tell us
that much sugar goes to waste because they cannot sale it. We get to
the refinery, which is an enormous building, and Gary goes in for a few
minutes. Finally he comes back with the Manager of Operations. This
man speaks perfect english in a most robotic manner. He will give us a
tour and explain how sugar is made, but it will have to be very short.
He then starts showing us around and explaining to us the most trivial
of details. A couple of times I try to ask a question and he tells
me--Okay, we will wait until we are finished with the tour, and then we
can ask any questions in my office. We climb narrow stairs and are
walking around the scaffolding between enormous machines. I get a
science lesson on how sugar crystals are made. For some inexplicable
reason a moped is riding in circles around the machines far below us.
The tour takes at least one hour. In his office he asks if there are
any questions. He shows us samples of different grades of sugar.
Nelice asks him if he has any samples to give to me? He says yes, if I
can come back on monday, because there are some french people coming to
get samples on friday. He tells us that 50kilo bags sell for $20US.
He tells us that many of the workers are Cuban. We see a couple Cubans
on our way out--Salut.
When we get back to Leogane we have a couple more beers, and some
grilled squid from a street vendor. Nelice grabs his stuff from the
guest house. Last night he was flipping through my copy of Camus' Myth
of Sisyphus, so I gave it to him--Can't forget my book. He's got to go.
We go to buy mangoes for Edline. There are several people selling
fruit across the street from the hospital. Nelice buys from one lady
because he says she needs money the most. She has elephantitus in her
left leg, and her left foot is literally rotting. I walk with Nelice
to where he gets a tap-tap and say goodbye to my friend.

15Nov.

High flying on the way to Miami. Last night I had bizarre dreams
involving Haitians and high school classmates. I woke up in the middle
of the night, wide, wide awake. My heart beating wildly. Suddenly I
remembered being a little kid and wanting to have a tail. I don't know
why, but I wanted one really bad. I couldn't get back to sleep, for
anxiety of wanting a tail.

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Coffee:

Coffee grows everywhere around this area, Jeannette, in the Department of Nippes, about
halfway down the southern peninsula (Tiburon Peninsula) . None of the coffee is
cultivated. There has not been a market for coffee in this area for several years. All
coffee is harvested for personal use. Coffee is processed using the Natural, or Dry
process, where the entire coffee cherry is dried and then the dried cherry is hulled from
the bean. Currently the method used to hull the beans is with a massive mortar and
pestal. This produces a coffee with no export value, as the beans are mashed; even
after sorting they are left with bits of the cherry still intact. Drying is done at the
home, either on the ground or on a raised patio or roof if available. Most houses do not
have flat roofs or patios for drying, most are tin roofs, but there are many grass roofs
as well. When there was a market, coffee was sold in the local units, Marmites, by which
is meant a coffee can, as in a folgers tin, heaped to overflowing. This weighs in at 5
and a half or so pounds. For this farmers were being payed 35 to 40 gourdes, which is
around $1US.
Jeannette is not a town, but rather the name of this mountainous area. People live in
houses on small plots of land, and almost all are subsistence farmers. People grow
cabbage, lots of yams, a little corn. Coffee grows, basically wild, everywhere. There
are a variety of fruit trees growing. Staples rice and beans are purchased in town.
Most of the rice is american rice.