the story of Caraballo

I just got back from several days in Caraballo (in the northwest of the country near Sosúa and Puerto Plata), where I was visiting a friend of mine. It’s a small but complex community in spite of (or perhaps because of) its isolation in the midst of rolling sugarcane fields. My friend lives in the section of Caraballo occupied by Dominicans who are employed by the local sugarcane industry as guards or other personnel above braceros, the cane-cutters. Many of the homes there were built by the sugar company. Just adjacent is Batey Caraballo, the community devoted to the (predominately Haitian) braceros. Although Caraballo itself, with dirt roads and frequent apagones (blackouts), is certainly not the picture of luxury, Batey Caraballo makes it look like Beverly Hills. Most “homes” in the batey are one-room sections in long, wooden buildings. An entire family lives in each of the rooms, and there are no bathrooms.

 

Those two yellow doors are to some of the rooms that comprise families' "houses" in the batey.

About seven years ago, the sugar cane processing company here shut down due to finances. The vast majority of residents in both Caraballo and Batey Caraballo were thus left unemployed. Although many have sought alternative forms of work, the unemployment rate is still much higher than the already high national average. The situation has attracted the attention of various charitable groups, in particular a religious group from the U.S. The “help” proffered by this group is in the form of missionaries and volunteers who make short-term journeys to Caraballo and the batey. The presence and power of vodou priests in the batey makes for an interesting relationship between the community and foreign religious groups, most of whom fail to understand the complexities of vodou, such as that the religion is closely linked to Catholicism – a perfect example of syncretism. One of the religious group’s largest projects was the creation of Villa Asención, an adjoining community established to meet the need for adequate housing among the braceros. As such, residence in Villa Asención was restricted to Haitian field workers, with very few exceptions, who were perceived as the “poorest of the poor” and thus the most in need of assistance.

The dilapidated sugar processing factory in Montellano, a small town just down the road from Caraballo.

 The newer homes in Villa Asención.

In December 2008 three men attacked a motoconchista (motorcycle driver) from the area in a robbery. He later died in the hospital. One of the offenders was from Villa Asención and of Haitian descent. This sparked a reaction against Villa Asención by residents of Caraballo, who had long resented the exclusivity of the housing aid. Although Caraballo is better off than those who live and formerly lived in the batey, many Dominican residents of Caraballo suffer the same poverty in similar living conditions. An angry mob from Caraballo entered Villa Asención and began to destroy the community. Terrified Haitian families, perhaps eerily reminded of the events of 1937, fled to the sugarcane fields, hiding while the people of Caraballo overtook and began to sell their homes. While many did not return, a few ventured back to Villa Asención once local authorities became involved in the situation. Some of those who returned were able to negotiate a fair price for their stolen homes; almost all ultimately moved on to live in other communities.

While walking through the various sections of Caraballo I couldn’t help but notice the ubiquitous evidence of charity groups – from the halfway completed concrete bridge with “Welcome” splashed across it to the handful of blond gringos who stood around teaching English out loud in disorganized groups despite the persistent rain: over the sound of fat drops in the mud, “Hello, my name is…” I’d been having some trouble putting my finger on what it was, exactly, that bothered me about it, but after spending a few days in Caraballo I suddenly found that I was able to explain it.

The halfway bridge.

The recent history of Caraballo is illustrative of some problems at large with charitable foreign aid. External groups too frequently seek to give, give, give to the poorest of the poor, with little consideration of the potential negative impact of their good intentions. While it certainly sounds good to those who are serious about making a difference to aid only “the poorest of the poor,” to ignore the economic class just above those is to ignore the complexities of poverty. To give without consideration of the unsustainability of charity is to keep the poor cast as victims and the donors as the only party with agency. What happens when a financial downturn dries up sources of funding? The poor find that they are still at the mercy of the actions of others. Real assistance consists of mutual respect and mutual empowerment.

The religious group in Caraballo also failed to understand multifaceted local politics; hence the raging mob that entered Villa Asención to drive out their neighbors and steal their homes in December 2008. Finally, I am frustrated with seeing poorly conceived charity projects that offer no real solutions to poverty and sometimes actually make things worse. I wondered if any of the happy church gringos had bothered to find out what sugar company had taken advantage of the labor of Haitian and Dominican braceros in Caraballo and the surrounding communities. I wondered if any of them were aware of U.S.’s economic policies towards the Dominican Republic and the multinational corporations (MNCs) that flourish here. I wondered if any of them had utilized their power as consumers and voters and attempted to hold their government or U.S.-based MNCs accountable for their treatment of sisters and brothers in the South.

I suppose my point is that you don’t have to have a fancy travel grant to make a difference, and if you do have one, you’re not necessarily any more likely to make a difference than someone who doesn’t. Making a difference starts with each one of us. I won’t apologize for the cliché because it’s true; once we understand how our own choices affect the people near and far from us we can begin to reevaluate the systems that cause global poverty and disease and find ways to combat them. This is the challenge I propose for those who still lack a New Year’s resolution. :)