Yesterday was my birthday. I can’t help but wonder what my life would have looked like had I been born a few decades earlier. How effective I could have been working in a socio-political environment less chaotic than Haiti in the 21st century but much more conducive to the kinds of investments in health that I’ve dedicated my career to. Did I miss out on Haiti’s golden age?
For most Haitians living outside of Haiti, a community of about 2 million of which I am now part, the past has a special allure. Most people I’ve met from the Haitian diaspora speak of a time when things were fundamentally “different.” Most depict their childhood memories with such vivid details that I can almost match them using only my imagination. Like a captivating novel set in the ‘60s, I can relive the experience of walking down Boulevard Harry Truman in downtown Port-au-Prince surrounded by Victorian architecture. I can also picture the chic lifestyle of European and American tourists disembarking from large cruise ships with film LEICAs to get a taste of an exotic tropical adventure.
The Haitian diaspora, forced out of Haiti during the brutal 30-year dictatorship of the Duvaliers, longs for a bygone era when things were much more optimistic. According to most people I’ve spoken to, the essential infrastructure for a middle-class life at least existed in the ‘60s — even if it was at the expense of a repressive regime, freedom of expression, and widespread political persecution. Life was essentially better for the average Haitian in those days.
When I find myself daydreaming about the golden age of Haiti, I find it helpful to distinguish between the personal and historical nostalgia of the Haitian diaspora. The former is tied to one’s memories and is formed in relation to happy childhood experiences. Like many who grew up in Haiti, my childhood years were filled with joy and mostly positive memories despite the turbulent period the country endured in the ‘90s. Between embargoes and recurring coups d’état, I grew up playing with my siblings and cousins at my grandfather’s Museum of Haitian art, which…
