#oloffson

Truly one of my favourite places in the world.

Got an A.

This post is gonna be about pure love of traveling. That feeling you get when you find yourself in a place that is somehow so evocative that nothing else really comes close. Haiti was such a place in general. And the place this post is about, in particular.  

But first the recap: Traveling to Haiti from the DR you have two options. Flight (twice a week, expensive, faster then bus) or bus. We chose bus:-) It takes longer but is way cheaper and the buses in the DR are totally fine. The CaribeTours to Haiti even served a hot meal of goat-stew, tayota, rice and beans. Delicious, fresh and hot.  

On buying your ticket in SD the bus-company will collect your passport and take you through most of the paper mill at the border. There is no real information, so we just followed the other passengers on and off the bus, in and out of the various offices on the border. That seemed to work just fine, and after about 45 minutes the whole border thing was over.

Anywho, the border is a strange place for more reasons then the strange border control routines. The crossing sits right next to a large lake that is growing ever larger due to the massive deforestation on the Haitian side (from charcoal production). The runoff of rainwater into the lake has increased massively as the trees on the mountains surrounding it have disappeared. And now the water is rising at an alarming rate. By the bus stop you can see groves of dead trees in the water, as well as several rooftops of submerged buildings. These are the old border buildings. Both Dominicans and Haitians are constantly raising the road with huge blocks of sandstone and sand from the most amazing looking quarries nearby. The new Dominican border buildings are already mostly out of commission as the water has kept rising. The first floors of all the buildings have been filled in with sandstone and are now underground, and makeshift doorways have been put into the second floor walls, which are now the first floor walls. The problem is so pervasive in fact that many of the border functions are taking place in the open on desks set up under tarps. As so often on this island, it is a goat show that works fine in spite of itself.

Anyways, Port-au-Prince... I don’t have too much I want to say. It was so much better then I thought, but also so much worse. Riding through this city would break even the hardest cynic's heart. Nothing special was happening when we were there, but what you see in some parts of town is utterly heartbreaking. But I just do not want to write about that. Everyone knows it’s in shambles, everyone knows it’s messed up. I have nothing to add. It’s a terribly hard thing to witness. I have done nothing to deserve my privileged life, and they have done nothing to deserve their infinitely desperate situation. It is beyond unfair and I cannot imagine how it must be to live through.

Anyway, if you are a tourist. This city is not ready for you, sure Petionville works fine, and I think even the art scene in croix de bouquets is somewhat functional again. The history of the city and the country is truly engrossing. But in my opinion, you should move on to the wonderfulness that is the rest of Haiti instead of sightseeing in and around the misery that now is this city. But PaP has one thing that completely amazed me, and is worth both coming and staying a few nights for. The title of this post gives it away. It’s the Hotel Oloffson. Considering the misery you find in so many parts of the city it seems awfully indulgent to enjoy something so superficial as a hotel. But this is a hotel so absolutely dripping with the richest atmosphere and history, it is to historic hotels what “foié gras” is to chopped liver.

Let me try to fill you in. The Oloffson is a beautiful gingerbread mansion built in the late 1800s by the son of one of Haiti's presidents. The mansion, has in addition to being a family home, been a US marine corp hospital before becoming a hotel. In the 60s it was run by a french photographer and attracted all kinds of celebrities as “the Grenwich village of the tropics”. It was also the inspiration for the Addams family house and the backdrop for Graham Greenes book “the comedians” on Duvalierist Haiti. Throughout Haiti’s troubled history the Oloffson has remained open. And you can feel it. It is so tangible, so apparent that just walking up to the hotel sent shivers down my spine. Everywhere you look has real history, dictators, presidents, journalists, writers, artists, academics, filmmakers, movie stars and singers. They have all been here, had the famous rum punch, listened to the thursday concert, debated the future and past of Haiti. And somehow you can feel that. The hotel is just so “right”. Everything in it feels like it belongs there, everything looks natural. Nothing has been replaced unless it’s broken. Nothing has been added. There is a creak in every floorboard. A crack in every mirror and window. It feels like the Oloffson grew out of the ground like a plant, fully formed, as it sits today. It's that organic.