Mulaire (pronounced “Mee-lair”)
asked me why I studied forestry as opposed to agriculture, which
is closer to my current area of work. I told him about my father
and all the trees we planted in our backyard when I was young.
He was suitably impressed, I think, although I didn’t tell
him that our main motivation at the time was to avoid having much
grass to mow. My motivation for seeing trees grow has changed
and deepened—although weed control is in fact one of the
many benefits that trees can provide in a well-integrated agricultural
system. I feel a fundamental joy when I see a barren area we have
planted to trees become an explosion of green; the seed of that
joy was planted along with the seedlings 30 some years ago.
It is because reforestation is so important to me that I can’t
bear to plant a tree if it doesn’t meet the needs and priorities
of the people who control that tree’s fate. Deforestation
in Haiti is not and never has been a random event, nor is it a
malicious attack on Mother Nature. In most cases, it’s a
logical and reasonable response to a series of perverse circumstances
created by policies outside the control of the local population.
Understanding the conditions that result in an unbalanced and
destructive use of tree resources is essential, because our job
is not just to grow and plant trees; it is to help create conditions
where deforestation is reversed, where mountains that have been
the cause of a people’s destruction again become the source
of life and love and laughter.
One example of the complexity of deforestation in Haiti is charcoal.
Charcoal production, one of the main causes of deforestation,
is also one of the only reliable sources of income in many rural
areas. Income from charcoal helps Haiti’s rural population
pay for health and education, and it provides cash to buy food
when climatic instability results in yet another crop loss. Climatic
instability, in turn, is enhanced by deforestation. This downward
spiral of misery and resource destruction is rooted in Haiti’s
history as a country manipulated and exploited by the United States
and European countries, and by the exploitation of rural producers
by the urban wealthy.
In recent years, the destructive spiral in Haiti and other underdeveloped
nations has been accelerated by international policies, notably
those of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. These
“structural adjustment” plans are referred to as “globalization,”
and people I work with refer to them as “The Plan of Death.”
One of the most deadly elements is opening up Haiti to highly
subsidized agricultural products, mostly from the United States
but also from Europe and Asia. These products, such as rice and
corn, are sold for less than production cost, driving down local
prices and forcing farmers to either abandon their land and move
to the cities or to focus on the few reliable sources of income,
such as charcoal.
Dealing with the complexity of problems in Haiti’s rural
countryside requires an integrated system of techniques that deal
with the multiple levels of people’s needs and get at the
roots of the problems. MPP, the Papaye Farmer’s Movement,
the organization with which I work, is made up of autonomous local
community groups in Haiti’s central plateau. MPP responds
to the peoples most urgent needs while helping to educate and
inform them. One magnificent result of this interactive relationship
is a fully integrated, wide-ranging and yet intensive approach
that addresses both the results of poverty and its underlying
causes. MPP brings groups together to define and address the political
conditions that affect their livelihoods, while at the same time
supporting agricultural and economic projects that help farmers
address their urgent needs for food and money.
Many blessings.
Mark
The 2004 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
140
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