Voodoo in Haiti

Voodoo has a genuine component to it in Haiti. There were occasional voodoo ceremonies in the backcountry.  I was invited to go one time, but it creeped me out, so I declined.  It is induced by a voodoo powder made from a sea snake and is extremely potent.  It is sprinkled on doorsteps to lay a ‘Curse’ on the inhabitants and is absorbed through their feet. It was sometimes administered by a voodoo “priest” that put it in a red hanky and thrown into the face of the victim. Most of these priests were just charlatans using a powerful drug to induce a highly hallucinogenic powder that creates a coma-like state. Allowing the body to move but sustain a trance-like state that can last for quite some time, and the victim(s) act like the walking dead or Zombies.  This isn’t the Hollywood stuff but a real state of mind, nothingness altering the victims’ state of mind. Frantz was a self-ascribed voodoo priest, but being Frantz, it was all a circus act for his amusement. However, it did serve us well one night when we were returning to port au prince from the mine.

Because at this time nobody knew he was in charge, paramilitary groups set up ad hoc checkpoints to shake down travelers or harass people that were affiliated with whichever side they didn’t like. We were stopped at one of these armed checkpoints that were set up after we got to the mine, and there was no way around it.  I was extremely nervous thinking that within minutes I might be on a giant spit-roasting over an open fire with Zombies dancing around me like Dante’s  inferno.  Frantz calmly stopped the Honda and harsh words began to fly and I am on the verge of panic.  Frantz looked over at me and began to smirk.  I failed to see any humor in our present situation. He said, “don’t worry, boss I’ll handle this.  He reaches behind his seat and pulls out the mason jar full of bones and pulls out this red hanky and begins to raise it toward the window and yelled something in Creole. Instantly the thugs ran away and left their weapons behind.  I was nonplussed, and Frantz turned to me and said, “works every time! I scared the hell out of those guys,” as he laughed like hell, we sped away to Petionville and the safety of his home.

The religion in Haiti is overwhelmingly Catholic, but many offshoots mix the Voodoo ritual into the Catholic ritual, and it gets weird.  As poor as these folks were, I remember seeing school kids walking along the road dressed in their plaid and Khaki uniforms heading to Catholic School barefoot and wearing probably THE ONLY GOOD CLOTHES THEY HAD. Out of this Catholic top-down administration, came a pedophile priest named Aristede who’s parish was about 5 miles from the mine. He would go on after inciting rebellion against the regime to become president of Haiti, in a sham election backed by our nation-building US government. This guy was a bad guy and elevated Baby Docs’ corruption and cruelty to a whole new level.  We were long gone by this time, thank God. Soon after all of this, Haiti has become a broken narco-state where no one is safe on the streets, and even innocent Christian mission trips are on the Special Forces radar for rapid deployment and monitoring in case of attacks. It’s a different Haiti these days mostly for worse if that’s possible.

As we return to our mining days in the chaos after Duvalier left, General Henri Namphy took over the reins of government to try to bring peace and stability.  I met him several times, he had a wonderful sense of humor, and we had dinner every now and then when he came to the states. He was military all the way, and I think he loved his country.  Unfortunately, the power plays between old Duvalier holdovers, the inept US nation builders, the Cuban communist infiltrators, the narco predators, and a bankrupt nation looted by crooks and propped up with US taxpayer dollars leaking out to the same old bad guys; left nothing changing for the better. As we were trying to hang on, the Reagan Administration had a meeting of American businesses that were invested in Haiti to encourage us not to cut and run.  All of us were invited to the Old Executive Office Building for a briefing, from then-Secretary of State Shultz, and reception after, at Haitian Embassy (propped up again by American taxpayers). It was primarily a show event with nothing but “hang in there boys. We’ll send in the marines if we have to”. Yeah, right, no marines, no cash you’re on own boys. This was a miserable trip for me, especially since I made the mistake of drinking bottled water at a decent Port au Prince restaurant/ discotheque instead of Pepsi or the local Prestige beer and got sick and had the runs.  I barely got through the briefing and the reception between frequent visits to the bathroom.

As things were getting worse, I  came into Port au Prince on some business right from the mine with Bauxite dust on my jeans and somewhat disheveled.  I decided to stop by the Embassy and try to make an appointment to see Aubrey Hooks, to see if we can figure out what the hell is going on.  To my surprise, the Marine Guards were waved aside, and I was ushered right into his office.  What I quickly found out was that he was asking most of the questions, ranging from we heard you were at a restaurant and seated at the table across from you, was the head of the Cuban advisors in Haiti. He wanted to know everything I knew or heard about Cuban involvement in Haiti. I said I didn’t know, squat. I’m trying, among other things, to keep my mining operation alive and keep my army garrison from shooting each other in the streets of Miragoâne. So, could you break the log jam on some US funds or send the damn Marines or something? We’re about to go under.  He said in diplospeak he’d see what he could do, but please keep him informed if I hear anything about the Cubans.  Right like I’m going to make a collect call from the payphone in Miragoâne to the US embassy.  A side note, the most advanced way to communicate anything of high importance on a business level was “teetype” or a new computer program that we could run on our TRS 80 using a teletype program. That would get us through to the Citibank in downtown Port au Prince, who ran the bank, also using a TRS 80 as their “main frame.” This was printed and couriered to wherever we could get it too.  It was so slow that you’d type in words, and it would take several seconds for each letter to come across the screen after you typed it. But boy, we thought we were on the cutting edge.  Take that Al Gore and you thought you invented the internet. We were pioneers 😊. 

I wondered why Aubrey Hooks was always wanting information as the Business Attaché to the Embassy and never gave much out and how he always seemed to know where I was and how to get a hold of me. It turns out many years later after we left Haiti that he was the station chief for the CIA. The pieces fit together a little bit better now in hindsight.

After many efforts to resuscitate the Haiti-America Mining company, it imploded.  Our company lost a big chunk of our family fortune. 100 Haitians AND THEIR FAMILY returned to the poverty that they have had since the French and worse oppression than Baby Doc.  Gone is the future of good ole capitalism administered by caring and yes God-loving naive Americans and a chance for a better future. We gave it our all. Goodbye, Esnyder and God be with you.