Haiti: There and Back Again

Days 24-33

Friends and family, greetings from Barahona!  I hope this post finds you well and safe.  My thoughts and prayers were with everyone during the storms and I’m glad you’re all safe.  Much has happened since my last post and I’ve continued to learn and grow while here.  I’m pleased to say that my Spanish is coming along, although I have to take it one day at a time.

This past week, I got to travel to a town right inside the Haitian border and would like to share my experience.  Despite Barahona being two and a half hours away from the border, many of the people here are Haitian, or of Haitian descent.  Many towns, such as Barahona, offer a unique syncretism of cultures.  The Haitian influences are apparent to me here (once they were pointed out to me, by others) and it is very interesting to see the mix of cultures come together so easily.

Typical Haitian Style Home

  On Thursday, I traveled with Sor Andrea to take another sister, Sor Carmen, to a town called La Descubierta.  Sor Carmen works with the provincial house and travels to all the different locations to check up on them.  I wanted to use this opportunity to see more of the Dominican Republic and learn about the country I’m staying in.

From mountainous...

...to arid.

...to tropical...

Lago Enriquillo

The drive itself is very diverse, traversing through different landscapes, each containing its own beauty.  The path to La Descubierta goes around Lago Enriquillo, the largest lake in the Dominican Republic.  To get there, we passed through the mountains and came to the flat, low-lying plains in a valley.  Recently, the plains have become flood-plains after heavy rains.  The land is changing here, and is noticeable by Lago Enriquillo.  In recent years, the lake has been swelling and growing.  What was once shoreline is now many feet underwater.  Hundreds of feet out, one can see a line of dead palm trees that once lined the shore.  As you can see from the picture, this is a huge problem for the community because the roads that travel around the lake are now merely a few feet away from the lake.  In the future, they will be underwater.

In fact, the transformation has already begun.  Highway 48 has already experienced this problem, the road that runs between Boca de Cachón and Jimaní (two towns on the border) and into Haiti, is under water.  The people have created a makeshift detour around the hazard, but there is not much of an elevation gain, so it is only a matter of time before that is taken as well.  Highway 48 continues to run into Haiti, and we crossed the border to see another similar problem: Lake Azuéi in Haiti is doing the very same thing.  The picture below shows a stretch of dirt road, Highway 46, which has water on both sides of it.  Gravel has been piled on top of the road to keep up with the rising waters, but this can only be a temporary fix.

Highway 46

In a first world country, this may not be a huge problem, because an additional road (or, better yet, a bridge) could be build to fix this whole problem.  However, the people here do not have the resources to reconstruct the roads on a whim.  People rely on these roads to get to and from work, as they are the only roads available.  Additionally, people live in areas that are now prone to flooding.  Families that have lived in neighborhoods for generations are now forced out because of the changing environment.  

The government is doing what it can to help these people, but the resources are limited.  In 2009, heavy rains caused floods that affected nearly 10,000 families living around the lake.  What’s worse is that the past two years have been relatively dry, but the water continues to rise.   

We turned around in La Source, Haiti and took Highway 46 back to Barahona.  The drive back was solemn from everything we had seen.  Still, the landscape was incredible; during stretches of the drive, I felt like we might be the only people within miles.  I was able to see iguanas first had, which is probably the closest I’ll ever come to seeing dinosaurs in real life (my dream).  We also passed by caves, now protected by the government, that were home to the indigenous people on the island.  The incredible fact is that the very same geography that gives us food, water, and shelter can be the same that takes it all away in an instant.  

 
I wish I could follow up these problems with some good solutions, but I cannot provide any – except to pray for the people here and the solidarity of communities.  They are a resourceful people and will find a way to cope, rebuild, and stay strong.    



Many other adventures have happened in the past two weeks, but this was the one I wanted to share with you all.  I hope everyone back home stays safe and is living every moment they have to the fullest.  You all are never far away from my thoughts and prayers.

Russ