APRIL 1997

SPECIAL REPORT

The peaceful transfer of power in January 1996 from Jean-Bertrand Aristide to President Rene Preval marked a historic first in Haiti, providing a glimmer of hope that the nascent democratic system could provide long-term stability. That glimmer, however, is fading fast in the eyes of many Haitians whose lot has not improved after audacious promises by the international community. At the same time, increased incidents of random criminal activity and police excesses feed popular suspicions that while administrations may change, practices remain the same. Growing dissatisfaction is further evidenced by recent general strikes.

Since the 1970s, Haiti's identity has been closely linked to migration, whether for political or economic reasons, or frequently a mixture of both. During this period, the issue of Haitian "boat people" emerged, and the bodies of some victims periodically washed up on Florida beaches. For many reasons, including geographic proximity, the United States became the destination of choice for many refugees and migrants. Other significant destinations for Haitian emigrants include France, Canada, the Dominican Republic, the Bahamas, and Turks and Caicos.

The research for this report was conducted and chronicled by Regine Dupuy-McCalla, a student at Rutgers Law School and a summer associate at the Forced Migration Projects. Ms. Dupuy-McCalla visited Haiti from July 17 to August 4, 1996, to interview repatriated asylum seekers and various organizations. With assistance from both the International Organization for Migration (IOM) and the National Coalition for Haitian Rights (NCHR), she interviewed scores of Haitians in Port-au-Prince, Petit Goave, Port-de-Paix, Dame Marie, and Anse d'Hainault. Interviews were conducted with repatriates as well as Haitians who expressed a desire to leave Haiti. Some of those interviewed were members of "refugee" organizations. Names of individuals have been changed at their request to ensure confidentiality. In addition, Ms. Dupuy-McCalla met with Haitians living in New York and Miami, most of whom had come to the United States as asylum seekers.

The limited scope of our mission did not allow for a detailed examination of conditions in the Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince. Although important as a migration hub, Port-au-Prince is mostly a transit point for those who come from the countryside and seek to go abroad. It is rarely the point of departure.

The location of the site visits was determined both by conventional wisdom on where asylum seekers originate and by a relatively sparse academic literature. The Northwest of Haiti suffers from extreme poverty and has long had a reputation of being a primary point of departure. The Southwest, or Grande Anse, has an agricultural foundation. Both provinces are home to fishing villages involved in trade with other regions of Haiti and, occasionally, with other countries.

The slow pace of recovery of the Haitian economy and political uncertainty has contributed to a continued sense of hopelessness within the population. Such desperation fuels a desire to leave, and a trickle of Haitians continues to leave Haiti in small boats, often to be intercepted and returned by U.S. Coast Guard vessels. The potential for a migration or refugee emergency thus remains high and could be unleashed quickly by a political or economic crisis.

While the specter of mass migration from Haiti has at times dominated U.S. policy responses, including the September 1994 military deployment, it has not stimulated much research into the precise causes and modes of departure of Haitian boat people. The objective of this special report is to encourage such research and promote planning for future policy responses to migration and refugee emergencies involving Haiti. A related report, A Proposal to Establish a Temporary Refuge Scheme in the Caribbean Region for Refugee and Migration Emergencies, was published by the Forced Migration Projects in December 1995.

Arthur C. Helton

Director, Forced Migration Projects

Petit Goave

Petit Goave, known as "Ti Goave," is a small seaside town, approximately 50 miles southwest of Port-au-Prince. Primarily an agricultural and fishing community, Petit Goave has a population of several thousand. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) has an office in the center of town, and maintains contact with a local "refugee" organization that arranged a meeting between the Forced Migration Projects and a group of approximately 20 repatriated Haitians. All of the participants had left Haiti at least once, and most expressed a desire to leave again. Their destination for the most part was Miami, Florida, and their intentions to depart were not diminished by the interdiction of boats by U.S. government vessels.

Petit Goave is known for being a "Duvalierist" town, and during the meeting much blame was placed on the Aristide government for current economic problems. Many of the participants reminisced about the "good old days" under the Duvalier government, despite the fact that most of the interviewees were in their mid-twenties and were therefore young children during the waning years of "Baby Doc" Duvalier's dictatorship. All the participants stated they were born and raised in Petit Goave. Only a few had lived outside of Petit Goave for any length of time, primarily those who had more than an elementary school education.

The participants mainly consisted of young men (between 18 and 30 years of age). A few women were present, but very few of them spoke during the meeting. Those in the group generally discussed the hopelessness they felt about their future. They generally complained about the lack of jobs and opportunity of getting any training or skills. The only viable choice, under such conditions, is to leave. None of them described themselves as fishermen or farmers. The participants all seemed to consider themselves "urban dwellers" in Petit Goave, unwilling to participate in traditional production activities.

No one present at the meeting was currently working. A few people claimed they did "commerce."1 In fact, only a few people at the meeting had ever been employed in their lives. Very few participants had ever been to school, and the most frustrated participants seemed to be those who had obtained some education but still could not find employment. One participant complained that although he had a high school education, only those who had "political connections" in Petit Goave had any hope of finding employment. Another young man explained why he left-"Why does a young person leave Haiti at this time? You see the country does not have jobs now.... I myself have taken a boat three times and the next time I can I will try again."

Among the participants was a small group of young men who had a few days earlier attempted to leave as stowaways. They had just been released from jail when they arrived at the meeting. All of the stowaways were under age 21; the youngest was 16. They described their recent adventure of trying to hide during the night in a docked cargo ship heading toward Miami. They were surprised to find that another group of stowaways had already climbed on board. As the ship left port, they thought they had been successful when suddenly a loud splash was heard in the water, and the captain subsequently ordered a thorough search. The young men (along with other stowaways they did not know) were discovered and returned to shore in Petit Goave where they were jailed.

Many of the other participants had been intercepted by U.S. authorities and sent to Guantanamo, Cuba, without being interviewed for refugee status. No one expressed the desire to migrate to a larger town or even to the Dominican Republic; the only goal seemed to be to leave Hispanola entirely. About one-fourth of the participants had tried to leave more than once by boat.

One person remarked that a boat of migrants had left about a month ago (which many people in the audience seemed to know about). Another participant declared that he would be leaving on a boat the next evening but refused to give more information on his departure. Like most small towns in Haiti, the community in Petit Goave usually knew whether a boat had reached Miami, either because no one contacted them (according to prior arrangements) or returned to the town, indicating that the sojourners may have been lost at sea. This is the only means of keeping track of how many boats had been successful. No one can know with certainty how many boats have failed to reach their destinations.

The four main actors in conducting boat departures were described as follows: organizer, participants, bos or boat builder, and captain. The organizer is the person who makes the financial investment in the boat and actually seeks out clients willing to pay for their trip. The bos actually builds the boat. The captain navigates the boat but is usually expecting to leave the country permanently.

There are basically two ways of organizing a boat departure in Ti Goave. The first method is profit motivated; one or a small group of organizers commissions the construction of a boat from a bos in order to turn a profit by selling seats to would-be migrants. The individual organizer, motivated only by profit, usually does not board the boat. The "non-profit" method, known as rassemblement, involves a group of like-minded individuals who pool resources together and organize their own boat departure. Departures via rassemblement cost less since there is no "middle-man" involved. Rassemblements occur less often because of the complications of organizing and paying a bos (to provide building materials and payment for his labor). Consequently, when none of the members have funds, the bos is forced to stop building the boat. Usually the rassemblement begins with a small group and becomes increasingly large as others join the collective by making a contribution.

A few participants claimed that they had not paid any money for their voyage but were still allowed to board a boat. Especially when a boat did not have many people as the departure approached, people were allowed to board for free, ostensibly to fill space. However, since many Haitians who establish themselves abroad maintain ties with their hometowns, it is not unusual for future monetary obligations to be assumed by a passenger. Only when the emigre has found work in the country of destination does repayment begin.

Many discussed the humiliation they felt when they returned unsuccessfully from a voyage. Returning was considered a humiliating experience because, as they often had borrowed money for their venture, everyone from their town knew of their failure.

Port-de-Paix

Port-de-Paix, located in the Northwest of Haiti, is known to be the gateway to Ile de la Tortue, a small island off the coast which provides clandestine boat departures to the Bahamas and the United States. Port-de-Paix is the capital of the Northwest and is home to most trade and economic activities in the region. It is also known throughout Haiti as the place to go when one has the cash and wants to leave quickly. The city's activities include illegal trafficking in goods and people. This is facilitated by the relative isolation of this city from Port-au-Prince, and its proximity to Miami and the Bahamas. The trip to Port-de-Paix takes approximately three to five hours on unpaved roads from the central city of Gonaives. A specialized terminology, often not used in other parts of Haiti, is evidence of the degree of sophistication of migration arrangements in Port-de-Paix.

Boat departures range in cost from about 1,000 to as much as 10,000 Haitian dollars.2 Various factors affect the price demanded for a trip out of Haiti, including the type of boat and the accommodations. Many migrants leave Port-de-Paix for the Bahamas or Grand Caicos in hopes of finding employment.

One can also reach the Bahamas with a false passport and a ride in a small plane for about 12,000 Haitian dollars. One resident of Port-de-Paix explained, "It's not just people who live in Port-de-Paix who leave-Port-de-Paix is a place that people wanting to leave come to, so we get people from all over Haiti." One former migrant attempted to explain the price differentials in taking a boat-one option is virewon (cargo smuggling), which takes place on the island of Ile de la Tortue, where there is no state control. "People are put in a boat like sardines in a can. Either they die or they escape. I myself paid 3,000 Haitian dollars so that I could be in a small boat with only six people."

A large crowd which had quickly gathered at the wharf in Port-de-Paix described attempts to leave Haiti. Most of the people at the wharf explained that they had left due to the lack of jobs or educational opportunities, both of which they hoped to find abroad. One worker explained that it was difficult for him to work at the wharf and watch the food being brought in, yet not be able to use it to feed his own family.

There are two main actors in organizing boat departures from Port-de-Paix-the armateur or pilot who finances the trip and the captain who navigates the boat. Only the wife (or common law wife), family and friends of the armateur can go on the boat free of charge. The armateurs do not necessarily operate individually but sometimes consist of a group.

The commissaire3 of Port-de-Paix who was attempting to crack down on smuggling operations explained that many people had been housed in tight places on a cargo ship or virewon where it was hard to breathe; many perished or just barely survived. According to the commissaire, a virewon usually holds three times the number of people it is safely capable of transporting. The commissaire contended that although some people may not pay at the time they leave, they are forever indebted to the organizer. He pointed out the difficulty of investigating smuggling, "There is a complicity between the armateur and the passengers leaving." The armateur is in actuality the owner of the boat. Everyone who participates has a stake in the departure's success. The armateur also tries to involve the newly formed police in these operations.4 On an individual boat, the armateurs can be as few as one and as many as four. Sometimes the owner hires others to get people to come along. This is called koute or demarche.

A man named Joseph explained that he borrowed 1,000 Haitian dollars in May of 1996 in order to leave the country in a virewon. In his early forties, Joseph was married with seven children but could find no work in Port-de-Paix. A few days later a fight broke out on the crowded ship. Since they were close to the Bahamas, Bahamian authorities intervened and quickly returned him and the others to Haiti. Aside from the humiliation of being returned to his hometown, he was now in debt for this unfinished journey and still had seven children to feed.

The crowd at the wharf laughed in sympathy when Joseph explained that if he had been unable to repay his debt he would have been killed. Joseph went on to explain, "If I could make a living here I would stay-I'm not interested in vye peyi moun ("a stinking foreign country"). Ever since this morning I'm running around this wharf and I cannot manage to make a gourde (20 cents)."

In order to finance their voyages people have few options. Some sell their land. Since land is often a family's only tangible property, land is liquidated as a last resort. However, land in the Northwest is not very productive and therefore not especially valuable. One former would-be migrant explained, "Although I sold it, my land was not very valuable because it had no fruit or hardwood trees, and no irrigation is provided to help things grow." Alternatively, a migrant can put his land in escrow, known as eskont, with a notary public,5 or borrow from a loan shark. Interest rates start at a minimum of 300 percent. These lenders have very little risk of loss since a non-payment means that they can accumulate large tracts of land in the area or they can continue to receive payments at a scheduled rate. At the same time, the boat person who is unfortunate enough to miss only one payment may permanently lose title to his land. Often these lenders accept only hard currency (U.S. dollars) as payment for their loans in Haitian dollars. This means that, depending on the black-market rate for U.S. dollars, Haitians might actually be forced to pay back more than three times the amount they borrowed, over and above any interest rates. Furthermore, any family remaining in Haiti may be subject to harassment by these lenders. One man named Frank, who was a high school teacher, explained how he was disillusioned about the prospects of earning money after borrowing in Port-de-Paix: "Somebody told me about a boat that was leaving so I borrowed 3,000 Haitian dollars, but I owed an additional $3,000 to the lender. When I left, I was told that I was going to be given a good job so the money I borrowed would be paid back in no time, but when I got there (the Bahamas), I was handed a machete and told to get to work."

Another man, Armand, explained his experience: "Although my family are peasants, I became in a worse state there (the Bahamas), than I was in Haiti. When I needed clothing I had to borrow a used shirt. My main problem was getting work. After I got deported back to Haiti, they (the lenders) started harassing me. I had to sell some land to get them off my back but I still owe 4,300 Haitian dollars. I don't know how I'll ever pay it back."

Repatriated Haitians often return to more hardship than they experienced before their departure. Some are apprehended by immigration officials and never succeed in gaining entry to another country or are unable to find work once they arrive because of their undocumented status. Once they return, their inability to repay their loans forces them to borrow additional funds from their family or live in hiding to avoid lenders who seek them out. One man remarked, "Now if I didn't have family to help me I would at least be in prison."

Another way of financing a departure is by borrowing money from family settled abroad. Many would-be migrants accumulate remittances sent to them by relatives until they obtain enough to leave.

The price of a trip may be affected by many factors besides destination. A false passport and passage on a small airplane costs the most. Using a false passport is commonly referred to as dekolaj.6 An airplane is considered to be a safer, quicker, and a more dignified means of departure. The next transportation mode of choice is cargo ship, virewon, considered more reliable since passengers can hide on board undetected.

Departures on cargo ships mainly result from smuggling. In reality, smuggling is one of the most dangerous modes of transportation since the passenger is at the mercy of often less than reputable traffickers. The clandestine nature of these voyages means that it is impossible to know how many persons have been killed by being thrown overboard in shark infested waters. Periodic reports of such acts have on occasion brought attention to these occurrences.

The influence of voodoo in an individual's decision to leave Haiti is often overlooked in academic studies. Before most boat departures a voodoo ceremony takes place to honor met agwe (the god of the sea). This ceremony is generally believed to help guarantee that all the passengers will arrive safely. Although many Haitian people strongly believe in met agwe, certain malicious captains have used this belief to get rid of unwanted passengers-to terrorize or appease them-claiming that met agwe demanded a human sacrifice. Once at sea, passengers have been told that if they do not "feed" met agwe, the boat will leak.

In addition, many Haitians protect themselves through their own individual consultation with a voodoo priest or hougan. A teenager named Pierre explained how he had survived a harrowing trip when the boat loaded with passengers nearly capsized: "Two months ago I was in a boat with 700 people that was going to Miami, but ended up in Nassau when the boat began to sink. Many people died that night but since I left with my own magic to protect me, I was able to survive and return home."

For those with no money to pay for transport, attempting to leave Haiti from the Northwest is no simple task. If one is unrelated to the organizers of the trip, there is virtually little hope of being given the opportunity to leave. One young man unloading cargo at the dock exclaimed, "Only gwo neg (big shots) leave by boat." Another woman blurted out, "It's not a good time to leave now, because they deport people. But if I had the money I would try my luck anyway." Nonetheless, Haitians determined to leave sometimes resort to stealing a boat. This is usually accomplished by a group of young men who either hijack or take a boat temporarily left unsupervised. In addition to the possibility of imprisonment if caught, those who steal boats usually have little experience in navigating on the high seas which in turn increases their chances of getting lost or drowning.

Furthermore, if the thieves are somehow discovered and repatriated, the boat owner may not take kindly to those who committed the theft. According to an IOM worker living in Port-de-Paix, "Sometimes the boat owner takes revenge with 'magic'-not with bullets. This is part of the reality of our system." One woman remarked, "We don't trust people who steal boats because if they can steal boats they can also dump you in the sea."

Women who try to leave at no cost, have added risk. This is because the armateurs (organizers) often let a few women on board explaining that they are just helping them out-"li bam-mwen chans mwen". However, unbeknownst to the women, they are expected to provide sexual services for men in the Bahamas in exchange for passage. Fernand, a member of a group of repatriated Haitians in Port-de-Paix explained, "It is difficult to find a Haitian woman in the Bahamas. Sometimes a Haitian man living in the Bahamas will give money to an armateur to bring a woman back with him for his personal use. This is a business. Once in the Bahamas the woman may go to several different men." As a consequence, if the woman is deported back to Haiti, she often is pregnant or has children dependent upon her.

Many young people complained about the bleak economic situation. "Everything is so expensive in this country. You can't make a living. If you steal, you get put in prison. You can't sleep. You are obliged to take kante (a small wooden boat commonly found in small towns). I'm young, if I can't work what can I do?"

Dame Marie

Dame Marie is a small seaside town located on the western tip of Haiti in the Grand Anse Department. Unlike other cities in Haiti, nearly all the roads in Dame Marie are paved. Dame Marie is relatively well-developed and has an association for most of the existing trades and professions. This is primarily due to the work of the American Friends Service Committee in that area for many years. They also have special interest associations such as a large women's organization, and they recently acquired their own radio station.

Organizations represented during interviews in Dame Marie included the Association des rapatries de Dames Marie (ARADAM) (Association of the Repatriated of Dame Marie), Chocolats de Dame Marie (CHOCODAM) (Dame Marie Chocolates) and the umbrella organization called Association entre aide Dame Marie (AEADMA) (Mutual Assistance Association of Dam Marie).

In spite of the fact that the standard of living is probably higher in Dame Marie than in other areas of Haiti, most people were unsatisfied with their current or future prospects. According to the leaders of these organizations, the rate of boat departures has slowed. However, people are continuing to leave Dame Marie by boat, primarily for economic reasons. They sensed that the people of Dame Marie are increasingly becoming impatient about the Haitian government's inability to respond to the needs of the people. Although there is not extensive repression, the organization leaders remarked that there are still zenglendo,7 who are little more than thugs, in hiding. They explained that the popular perception was that the police are not well trained and that they could not effectively protect the population. Above all, like most places in Haiti, the major concern was finding work or being able to borrow money in order to invest in small businesses.

The primary professions existing in this small town are as tailors, school teachers, fisherman, merchants, farmers, and entrepreneurs. According to Eriq, a leader of ARADAM, so long as there are no other alternatives, there will always be kante. "Unfortunately, all the people forced to take kante are the treasure of this country."

Most of the organizers of the boat departures seem to be the boat owners themselves. The boats were usually modest in size and could hold not more than 40-50 passengers. A kannot is generally considered smaller than a batiman. Fishermen are often drawn to trafficking migrants instead of selling fish. One leader of a fishermen's association remarked that hardly anyone leaves now because the repression has greatly decreased and everyone knows they will simply be turned back. The primary destination seemed to be the United States. The stated cost for a passage was from as little as 100 to as much as 500 Haitian dollars.

According to the fishermen, a kannot or batiman itself costs about 2,000 Haitian dollars. During the most repressive period about 50 boats were sold in the Dame Marie area. The price was largely determined by the size and condition of the boat itself.

The primary actors in Dame Marie boat departures are: captain and second in command, marines, bos, and boat owner or organizer, who usually does not travel.

In order to finance their departure, people normally sell their home or land. Eriq, whose organization consists of approximately 100 fisherman, explained a concern. "I have no way of refrigerating in order to sell my goods to other places." Another fisherman explained that he could not sell his lobsters because the local market was flooded with them, and because of the lack of transportation he could not get his lobsters to market in other larger towns where they would be marketable.

Gary, a 28-year-old member of CHOCODAM who trained as a school teacher for about three years, pointed out that the organizer of his boat was also a fisherman. Gary left Haiti in July 1994 on a boat that carried ten other passengers in their 20s. As far as he knew, no one paid the same amount of money to get on board. Usually, the closer to departure one paid for passage, the less one had to pay since the organizer was interested in making additional monies. "I paid my 200 Haitian dollars the day before leaving. I was told the boat would depart at 2:00 a.m. After only six hours on the high sea we were intercepted. We knew Hamilton8 would get us. If (we knew) Hamilton would come-I would not have gone and risked my life to that extent."

Eriq explained that "some people supported us when we returned. Some people looked down on us. Some people even laughed at us-they were usually the ones who did not have the money to leave in the first place." As in other areas of Haiti, financial resources are necessary to leave. Boat departures seem to cost less in towns like Dame Marie than in the larger cities such as Port-de-Paix. One reason presumably is that the larger cities have less of a community character and are more profit oriented.

Eriq is 38 years old and has been a school teacher for 12 years, usually working for little or no money. He stated:

"The first time I attempted to leave, I left with my wife and four of my seven children during the military coup. But the weather was so bad we had to return. The next time my wife refused to leave with me so I went alone. I paid 300 (Haitian dollars) a week in advance of the scheduled boat departure. There were three people organizing our boat. Because of the military we stayed in the woods until it was time to leave that day. I hid from 8:00 p.m. until 2:00 a.m. We each had our own supply of food. There were 23 people in the boat. Hamilton picked us up the next day around noon.

"Although things are not good now, I am afraid to leave Dame Marie now because I think I will be sent right back. I am living in a country where if you don't have money you can't get health care. I know that in Haiti, people like us, who belong to the people-we don't actually live like people."

Antony, a member of AEADMA explained: "I left in July 1994. I have one wife and nine children. I am 39 years old. I was on the run when I left. Almost anyone who was not in the other camp had to suffer persecution. I decided not to organize my whole family to migrate with me because I didn't want to be discovered by the police. I paid only 100 Haitian dollars to leave. I sold my bakery which was worth over 1,000 Haitian dollars. I left the rest of the money for my wife to take care of the family. The bakery was falling apart. I wasn't making money running it. Of course I was sent back.

"April to May is the best time to leave-virtually all the other months are bad. The boats are pretty small here-they can take usually 20 to 30 people at a time."

Anse d'Hainault

A few miles from Dame Marie is the town of Anse d'Hainault. Anse d'Hainault is more rural than Dame Marie, and not nearly as developed or organized. It is primarily a small fishing village composed of small homes. A group of young men in Anse d'Hainault had just been repatriated from Jamaica and were planning another voyage. They said they had left on a small wooden boat with no idea of where they were going. Somehow they ended up in Jamaica. They said they had put their faith in God and decided wherever they ended up would be acceptable. The 26 young men were all 24 years old, or younger. They had collected the money for the voyage over a six month period.9 All of the boys except one were from Anse d'Hainault. The group believed that people from Dame Marie were less likely to try to leave because they were generally better off. They said they had no opportunities in Haiti. "We can't find work; we can't go to school, and we are young. Food is expensive. You can't put your kids in school. You need housing. If you are young you have nothing to do."

End Notes

1 What Haitians refer to as "commerce" usually consist of selling a few imported goods in the market place; this requires a minimum amount of capital to purchase goods to resell.

2 The exchange rate of Haitian to U.S. dollars was 5 to 1 at the time this research was conducted.

3 A commissaire is the equivalent to a U.S. government prosecutor.

4 The commissaire in Port-de-Paix had issued a report naming smugglers. Also implicated were members of the newly formed police force.

5 Notary publics lend money at exorbitant interest rates in exchange for land titles or valuable property. Their role is similar to that of pawn shops in the United States.

6 Dekolaj is probably much more developed as an underground criminal activity in the Port-au-Prince area. In the North, it is primarily associated with small planes to other Caribbean islands.

7 Zenglendo, persons believed to be formerly associated with the army, rob or terrorize usually at night; they are perceived to have replaced the "Ton Ton Macoutes."

8 Hamilton is the name given by Haitians for all U.S. Coast Guard cutters since this was the name of the first Coast Guard cutter used to interdict Haitian boat people in 1981.

9 It is possible that these young men actually stole the boat that they used to get to Jamaica since none of them could explain how they acquired the funds. They also said they were happy to stay in Jamaica just so they would eat regularly.