| Page 2 of 2 < |
Forests Vanishing Swiftly in Haiti

|
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
But many who are dedicated to restoring Haiti's forests have grown pessimistic. Despite small successes, prospects are grim for implementing such programs on a grand scale.
"Everything has been studied and all the solutions are already known," said Mousson Finnigan, head of the Organization for the Rehabilitation of the Environment. "But when it comes to implementation, it becomes a place where everybody's fighting for the money. They're not fighting for results."
Christopher Columbus found dense tropical forests in 1492 when he arrived on the island colonizers named Hispaniola, now shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic.
But the trees began falling quickly, first as the Spanish and French cleared forests for plantations and later as hardwoods were logged for U.S. and European markets. Peasants then felled what was left in a desperate search for farmland.
While the Dominican Republic still has some of the most impressive forests in the Caribbean, parts of Haiti now resemble a moonscape of denuded mountains billowing dust. Hillsides are blasted away to make bricks for Port-au-Prince.
Without trees to anchor the soil, erosion has reduced Haiti's agricultural land, making the island more vulnerable to floods each hurricane season. More than 100 Haitians died in last year's floods, including dozens killed when a river jumped its banks during a gentle but steady rain unrelated to any tropical system. And in 2004, Tropical Storm Jeanne killed about 3,000 people in the coastal city of Gonaives alone.
And yet the trees keep falling. Orange fires can still be seen in the hills above the capital as farmers clear land at night. At the La Saline market, charcoal vendors arrive each day with mountains of bags, their faces coated with black dust.
"In Haiti we destroy instead of produce," acknowledged LeClaire Bocage, 38, who sells 110-pound sacks for $6.25. "They're going to tell the poor to stop cutting down trees. But what will we do to make a living?"





