Door Number Three for Haiti

Last week we put up and took down the following article because USA Today agreed to run it as an editorial. (Newspapers understandably like to have exclusivity until they run something.) They ran it yesterday, so we’ve put it back up.

I’ve also included the way it ran in USA Today to share the frustration writers have with word counts. My blog entry was 1,100 words, and the USA Today version about half that — 580 words. I’m thankful USA Today ran my piece and think they did a fine job of making it fit both physically and stylistically. But you can see the toll cutting the article back takes on its wholeness. Extra words give context, color, transitions, and a smooth flow of ideas. Newspapers have limited space. Plus, of course, my blog entry needed to read a little more mature for a national paper (and without the provocative title). The gist of my entry: aid’s nice…but deal honestly with the First World-imposed structural foundations of Haiti’s misery. In a move in that direction, just this week the US government has proposed forgiving Haiti’s international debt.

(If you click to the actual USA Today article, note how cool the hotlinks are to topics raised. And then read some of the comments. If you’re impressed by the intelligence of some of our legislators, these people are the electoral soil from where they grow.)

No Aid to Haiti (original blog entry) On Conan O’Brien’s final Tonight Show last week, he said, “Don’t be cynical. Cynicism is my least favorite trait.” I don’t want to be cynical. It’s not constructive. But on that spectrum between frustrated and cynical, I’m not in a very good place right now.

Just hours before that show, the four big networks joined together to broadcast a telethon to raise emergency aid for Haiti. America cares. We’re coming to the rescue. When people are in need, it brings out the best in the American people — regardless of our politics, we are united in support. Locally, my church is collecting “health kits for Haiti.” There’s a button on its website to help raise money. I’m inspired by the outpouring of goodwill. It’s good and necessary and motivated by love.

But at the same time, I’m troubled that no one seems to be asking why Haiti is so wretchedly poor to begin with — so poor that even their presidential palace can be toppled by an earthquake. As soon as the passion of this moment fades, the US government will continue contributing to repressive trade policies that keep places like Haiti impoverished. Am I the only one disillusioned…concerned that almost nobody — especially those in our media or government — is talking about this?

Charity is good. It helps people. It feels good. It’s easy to do, and easy to understand. But addressing the roots of structural poverty is the real challenge. A Toys for Tots-type organization collecting toys (“new and in their original packaging please”) brings cheer to poor kids who might not otherwise have a happy Christmas. And while caring people head to the mall with a longer shopping list, our society scuttles an opportunity to help those same families not to be impoverished by health care expenses. Again: simple charity…structural poverty.

During tough economic times or when dealing with the human suffering caused by natural disasters at home or abroad, each of us is confronted with a personal choice. You can: ignore; respond; or ask why, learn, and act to address the root of problem. Most good people take door #2. It’s human nature.

Nobody wants to open door #3. But we must. For example, seismic safety is a luxury only the privileged can afford. While the numbers aren’t in yet on Haiti’s quake, in 2001 a similar quake hit El Salvador and left nearly a quarter of the country (1.5 million people) homeless. (2001 was a momentous year for the USA, but imagine…a quarter of your country homeless.) An earthquake of the same magnitude hit my hometown that same year, and no one died. I was at work in our new-at-the-time building and remember riding it out like a hobby horse (suddenly thankful for the code requirements that made me spend extra for construction that could withstand such a quake). The best those living in a Haitian shantytown can afford for earthquake protection is to live in what’s called “miniskirt housing” — cinderblocks for the lower half of the wall, and light corrugated tin for the upper walls and roof. When a miniskirt house tumbles down, at least it won’t kill you.

We can blame Haiti’s squalor on voodoo, on its heritage of slavery, on corruption, on the fact that its main export is topsoil (in a treeless land, each rainstorm flushes precious soil into the sea), or on many other factors. But we must also look at American and European trade policies that help keep nations like Haiti underdeveloped — tariffs that help keep them “banana republics.”

A banana republic is a poor land whose economy is dominated by the export of its leading natural resource. It’s subjugated by First World trade policies that allow it to export raw materials but not finished products. Higher tariffs for processed goods make it nearly impossible to export anything but cheap raw materials to the already-developed world competitively. Put simply, Haiti can export raw sugar but not candy. Ghana can export cocoa but not chocolate bars. Honduras can export peanuts but not peanut butter. Compounding that are subsidies for American agricultural products. Haiti would love to compete fairly for the American market with its sugar, rice, and textiles, but tariffs and subsidies created by our government (to protect you and me) make it impossible. In Haiti, you’ll see fields that once grew rice now left unplanted. And across the street, a shack sells rice grown in the USA.

That is an example of structural poverty put upon countless millions of people, in part by the trade policies of the wealthy world. Sure, it may be good business for us in the short term. But having squalor south of our border may not be in even the greediest American’s self-interest in the long term.

The most widely used term for poor countries these days is “the Developing World.” But I find that label ironic, since so many First World economic policies systematically and actively keep places like Haiti underdeveloped. (The chapter on El Salvador in my Travel as a Political Act book explains this more thoroughly.)

OK, I guess I am cynical. (I think that feeling’s stoked by the growing power of corporations to shape policies that impact real people — like the Haitians our hearts will go out to for next week or so. Even before everyone was dug out of the rubble that was once Port au Prince, the US Supreme Court gave American corporations the constitutional right to be protected as individuals. That means they have the right to buy our government in the name of “free speech.” I fear our “democracy” is fast becoming one with a government still “by, for, and of the people” — but via the corporations we own. And, as that happens, why would our government ever reconsider these trade policies?)

Give aid or deal with the roots of the problem? That’s the question. Mother Teresa inspired us to feed the poor. Like everyone else, I loved her. El Salvador’s Archbishop Oscar Romero asked what were the roots of his nation’s poverty. He was shot. Today, my pastor worked a slide show on Haiti into his sermon: a series of horrific scenes of squalor. The last frame read: “Haiti before the earthquake.”

On my last trip south of our border, I heard a local troubadour sing: “It’s not easy to see God in the orphan child who cleans the windshields at a traffic light…but we must.” So what do we do? I’m not sure. We can ask ourselves how costly it would be for the US to allow free trade so poor countries can compete with us.

We can learn more about these issues. And we can support Bread for the World — see www.bread.org — which lobbies courageously, effectively, and against great odds for friendlier trade policies for people like the Haitians.

Here’s how the same piece ran in USA Today:

Haiti: Behind Door No. 3, difficult questions await

When people are in need, it brings out the best in Americans. But at the same time, no one seems to be asking why Haiti had become so wretchedly poor to begin with — before the earthquake awakened the world. And as soon as the passion of this moment fades, the U.S. government, and others, will continue pursuing repressive trade policies that help keep places like Haiti poor.

When dealing with human suffering, each of us is confronted with a personal choice. You can (1) ignore; (2) respond; or (3) ask why, learn and act to address the roots of the problem. Most good people take Door No. 2. Charity is easy to do, easy to understand and easy to feel good about. It genuinely helps people in need. Meanwhile, few want to open Door No. 3. But we must. Addressing the roots of structural poverty is more challenging, but ultimately can be more effective.

We can blame Haiti’s chronic poverty on its heritage of slavery, on corruption, or on the fact that its main “export” is topsoil (in a treeless land, each rainstorm flushes precious soil into the sea). But we must also examine global trade policies that help keep nations like Haiti “banana republics,” poor lands whose economies are often dominated by the export of their leading natural resource. These countries are subjugated by First World trade policies that allow them to export raw materials, but not finished products.

Historically, higher tariffs on processed goods make it nearly impossible for less-developed countries to export anything truly profitable. Put simply, Haiti can export raw sugar but not candy. Ghana can export cocoa but not chocolate bars. Countries in Latin America can export peanuts but not peanut butter.

Domestic subsidies for U.S. agricultural products also hamper development in poor nations. Haiti would love to compete fairly for the U.S. market with its sugar, rice and textiles, but tariffs and subsidies (to protect American businesses) make it almost impossible. In Haiti, fields that once grew rice sit unplanted. And across the street, a shack sells rice grown in the USA.

Having desperately needy people south of our border is in no American’s self-interest. For one thing, these policies contribute to a dilapidated status quo that amplifies the impact of natural disasters, which demand a costly international response.

And so, as Americans choose Door No. 2 (respond), let’s also peek behind Door No. 3, which requires long-term thinking. While signing your Haiti charity check, ask how costly it would be for the U.S. to allow free trade so that poor countries could fairly compete with us. Make a point to learn about the economics of structural poverty. And then support organizations that advocate for the nations kept down by First World debt, subsidies and tariffs. For example, Bread for the World lobbies effectively for friendlier global trade policies. On my last trip south of our border, I heard a local troubadour sing: “It’s not easy to see God in the child who cleans the windshields at a traffic light … but we must.” We have all been moved by images of people whose lives have been ripped apart in Haiti. Now let’s try to empathize with how grindingly difficult those lives were in the days, months and years before that disaster.

At my church service last Sunday, my pastor showed us a slide show of horrific scenes of squalor. The last frame read: “Haiti before the earthquake.”

“Friend Me” — Bulgarian Style

A decade ago, while filming the “Surprising Bulgaria” show for my TV series, I met Lyuba Boyanin in Sofia. She was assigned to our crew by her country’s tourist board. She and I clicked, and I knew we’d someday work together. (But back then, Bulgaria wasn’t quite ready for prime time as a tour destination.)

Now, for 2010, we’ve added Bulgaria to our tour program, with Lyuba as our guide. It’ll be our worst seller — and that’s fine with me. I love Bulgaria, and it will be fun partnering with an enthusiastic local to introduce travelers to this southeast European enigma.

As a follow-up to the annual tour alum reunion and guides summit we had here in January, I got a thank-you letter from Lyuba, written after she returned home from her first visit to the USA. The wide-eyed enthusiasm of her letter (with all its fun little language quirks) charmed me and reminded me how rewarding it is to work with travelers on both sides of the Atlantic.

Dear Rick,

I am finally back to Sofia and do not believe that everything what was happened was real.

Visit to Edmonds change me a lot — now I am feeling as member of great family. Like the World is different now. Like I am not anymore alone but with so many new “relatives” and friends. Thank you very much for your hospitality and friendship. Everything we did in Edmonds was so interesting and important for me, but the warm relationship make me to feel very comfortable and to be proud to be a member of your team. Hope we will have successful many more new trips to Bulgaria in the near future and our Bulgarian crew will be bigger and bigger soon (maybe one day at least as big as the Turks!).

My visit was very fruitful and good for the work. Now I am familiar with American style of life, habits, breakfast, pizza, McDonalds, restaurants, museums, tours… This will make me a better guide.

And I received a lot of help from colleagues from your office and Rick Steves’ guides. Looks like the baby (our dream that started so long ago to make tours together) has been really born! Thank you so much making my opportunity to be part of your family real. I have not a patience to start the trips to Bulgaria soon.

It will be great if you come here again to make a new show on Bulgaria and its people. This year in August (6-8) we are going to have big authentic folk festival, which is one of the unique festivals of Europe with over 10 000 participants from villages all around Bulgaria.

When you come to visit here we can do American Eve trying to prepare ribs and other food I have tasted in Edmonds. The Rick Steves Cooking book is still missing.

Have a good and successful day and let’s hope this year marks great success for the tours. Think always white not black.

With love and many hugs to you and all the Rick Steves Crew!

Lyuba

Rick Steves Drinking Game

My guidebook editor (Risa), TV producer (Simon), and radio producer (Tim) always nail me when I pop in one of my favorite and overused catchphrases. There are certain words Simon will let me use just once per script (like “proud,” “boom times,” “glory days,” or “carbonate”). Then I get this on the Travelers Helpline section of the Graffiti Wall on our website: “The Rick Steves Drinking Game.” I learned lots about my own brain patterns and limited vocabulary with this fun posting and thread. Here some of my no-no words (and quirky pronunciations) offered by attentive readers, viewers, and travelers. Let’s all drink to new and creative ways for travel writers to say the same old thing.

“workaday” — as in “such and such is a workaday city”
“main drag”
Michael in Phoenix, AZ

How about “grab” — such as “grab a train,” “grab a bite”
Swan in Napa, CA

“backwater”
“sleepy”
“unchanged”
“sit back”
Jim in Oklahoma City, OK

“Raise your travel dreams to their upright and locked position.”
Teresa in Seattle, WA

On his podcasts he’s always asking a guest interviewee, “What’s your take on that?”
Nancy in Bloomington, IL

He also likes to use “salty” and “workaday” quite a bit when describing things.
Ashley in Baton Rouge, LA

“thrills” as in “maximum thrills per mile” or “sightseeing thrills” or “alpine thrills”
He uses the word “thrills” a lot.
Laura in Virginia

If you tried the drinking game with the word “local,” you might need to visit the ER for detox afterwards.
Tom in Somewhere Else, Not in USA

Here’s another fun game…try this in Europe! Every time you see a Rick Steves guidebook, you go and get a gelato!! Hahahahaha…they would need to roll me on the plane!!
Jackie in Renton, WA

“ambience”… and he pronounces it different than I do.
Janet in St Joseph, MI

Whoever said he pronounces “ambience” differently, remember when he used to say “oh-BLISK”? For someone who was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, he does have some interesting accent quirks. I wonder if he gets it from the Scandinavians in his family?
Teresa in Seattle, WA

“evocative”
P.S.: I hope he realizes this is all in good fun…apologies if no!
Betsey in New England

“Women/men/kids/locals strut their [insert appropriate adjective] stuff.” :)
Betsey’s right, this is just good fun. We love Rick!
Penny in Tulsa, OK

“Iran”
“sit back”
“grab”
“thrills”
Audrey in Keizer, OR

I second “evocative”! I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard anyone else use the word.
Candice in San Antonio, TX

To Jackie in Renton, WA: I would like the gelato game more than the drinking game. My human body has low toleration for alcohol, but a high toleration for gelato.
Ron in Florida

Where’s Haiti?

My “No Aid to Haiti” entry was on the blog, and then it was gone. Several people asked what happened to it. Some (those who don’t know me very well) thought I removed it because I’m afraid of the controversy. No way. I love the discussion generated by these edgy topics. In fact, I was so impressed by the thoughtful dialogue this entry sparked, that I’ve decided to turn the Haiti piece into a newspaper op ed. (Newspapers don’t want to run something that’s already out there — even in a blog.) So for now, I’ve removed it from my site. Stay tuned…it’ll be back, and so will I. Thanks for your interest!

No Aid to Haiti

On Conan O’Brien’s final Tonight Show Friday night, he said, “Don’t be cynical. Cynicism is my least favorite trait.” I don’t want to be cynical. It’s not constructive. But on that spectrum between frustrated and cynical, I’m not in a very good place right now. Just hours before that show, the four big networks joined together to broadcast a telethon to raise emergency aid for Haiti. America cares. We’re coming to the rescue. When people are in need, it brings out the best in the American people — regardless of our politics, we are united in support. Locally, my church is collecting “health kits for Haiti.” There’s a button on its website to help raise money. I’m inspired by the outpouring of goodwill. It’s good and necessary and motivated by love. But at the same time, I’m troubled that no one seems to be asking why Haiti is so wretchedly poor to begin with — so poor that even their presidential palace can be toppled by an earthquake. As soon as the passion of this moment fades, the US government will continue contributing to repressive trade policies that keep places like Haiti impoverished. Am I the only one disillusioned…concerned that almost nobody — especially those in our media or government — is talking about this? Charity is good. It helps people. It feels good. It’s easy to do, and easy to understand. But addressing the roots of structural poverty is the real challenge. A Toys for Tots-type organization collecting toys (“new and in their original packaging please”) brings cheer to poor kids who might not otherwise have a happy Christmas. And while caring people head to the mall with a longer shopping list, our society scuttles an opportunity to help those same families not to be impoverished by health care expenses. Again: simple charity…structural poverty. During tough economic times or when dealing with the human suffering caused by natural disasters at home or abroad, each of us is confronted with a personal choice. You can: ignore; respond; or ask why, learn, and act to address the root of problem. Most good people take door #2. It’s human nature. Nobody wants to open door #3. But we must. For example, seismic safety is a luxury only the privileged can afford. While the numbers aren’t in yet on Haiti’s quake, in 2001 a similar quake hit El Salvador and left nearly a quarter of the country (1.5 million people) homeless. (2001 was a momentous year for the USA, but imagine…a quarter of your country homeless.) An earthquake of the same magnitude hit my hometown that same year, and no one died. I was at work in our new-at-the-time building and remember riding it out like a hobby horse (suddenly thankful for the code requirements that made me spend extra for construction that could withstand such a quake). The best those living in a Haitian shantytown can afford for earthquake protection is to live in what’s called “miniskirt housing” — cinderblocks for the lower half of the wall, and light corrugated tin for the upper walls and roof. When a miniskirt house tumbles down, at least it won’t kill you. We can blame Haiti’s squalor on voodoo, on its heritage of slavery, on corruption, on the fact that its main export is topsoil (in a treeless land, each rainstorm flushes precious soil into the sea), or on many other factors. But we must also look at American and European trade policies that help keep nations like Haiti underdeveloped — tariffs that help keep them “banana republics.” A banana republic is a poor land whose economy is dominated by the export of its leading natural resource. It’s subjugated by First World trade policies that allow it to export raw materials but not finished products. Higher tariffs for processed goods make it nearly impossible to export anything but cheap raw materials to the already-developed world competitively. Put simply, Haiti can export raw sugar but not candy. Ghana can export cocoa but not chocolate bars. Honduras can export peanuts but not peanut butter. Compounding that are subsidies for American agricultural products. Haiti would love to compete fairly for the American market with its sugar, rice, and textiles, but tariffs and subsidies created by our government (to protect you and me) make it impossible. In Haiti, you’ll see fields that once grew rice now left unplanted. And across the street, a shack sells rice grown in the USA. That is an example of structural poverty put upon countless millions of people, in part by the trade policies of the wealthy world. Sure, it may be good business for us in the short term. But having squalor south of our border may not be in even the greediest American’s self-interest in the long term. The most widely used term for poor countries these days is “the Developing World.” But I find that label ironic, since so many First World economic policies systematically and actively keep places like Haiti underdeveloped. (The chapter on El Salvador in my Travel as a Political Act book explains this more thoroughly.) OK, I guess I am cynical. (I think that feeling’s stoked by the growing power of corporations to shape policies that impact real people — like the Haitians our hearts will go out to for next week or so. Even before everyone was dug out of the rubble that was once Port au Prince, the US Supreme Court gave American corporations the constitutional right to be protected as individuals. That means they have the right to buy our government in the name of “free speech.” I fear our “democracy” is fast becoming one with a government still “by, for, and of the people” — but via the corporations we own. And, as that happens, why would our government ever reconsider these trade policies?) Give aid or deal with the roots of the problem? That’s the question. Mother Teresa inspired us to feed the poor. Like everyone else, I loved her. El Salvador’s Archbishop Oscar Romero asked what were the roots of his nation’s poverty. He was shot. Today, my pastor worked a slide show on Haiti into his sermon: a series of horrific scenes of squalor. The last frame read: “Haiti before the earthquake.” On my last trip south of our border, I heard a local troubadour sing: “It’s not easy to see God in the orphan child who cleans the windshields at a traffic light…but we must.” So what do we do? I’m not sure. We can ask ourselves how costly it would be for the US to allow free trade so poor countries can compete with us. We can learn more about these issues. And we can support Bread for the World — see www.bread.org — which lobbies courageously, effectively, and against great odds for friendlier trade policies for people like the Haitians.