ABOVE TOP & BOTTOM: The newly renovated 42-acre Champ de Mars plaza in Port-au-Prince provides
a haven from the chaos of urban life in the impoverished nation. The renovation
included decorative stonework depicting the heroes of Haitian independence.
Aristide Evans goes to Port-au-Prince's newly renovated Champ de Mars plaza
every chance he gets. Desperately seeking solace away from his home in the
densely populated Carrefour-Feuilles district, the 27-year-old student takes
a seat in the shade on one of the new benches, revels in his spacious and
verdant surroundings, and relaxes with a book. Coming here provides a peaceful
contrast to the crime, violence, and general chaos that plague the capital
of Haiti, the Americas' poorest country.
"There's no political stability here in Port-au-Prince," Evans
says of the city's chronic turmoil. "But here, in Champ de Mars, you
feel safe."
Evans is among the hundreds of thousands who fiock regularly to the
oasislike park in the city center since the government completed the plaza's
face-lift early this February.
Residents say they almost don't recognize the refurbished Champ de Mars,
an approximately $3 million restoration project funded by Taiwan and the
public treasury of Haiti. (Taiwan is the only foreign donor that has continued
to offer aid to Haiti despite an unconstitutional 19-month suspension of
parliament and the government's refusal to recount tainted results from
the May 2000 legislative election.) It's no wonder the plaza seems transformed.
Out went the huge piles of garbage and the muggers, beggars, and drug dealers
and in came steel benches, an amphitheater, fountains, mahogany shade trees,
a jungle gym for children (the country's first), intricate stonework
(which includes an embedded voodoo symbol), pay phones (also a first),
lampposts to provide reading light during nightly blackouts, renovated statues
of Haitian independence heroes, and--most important--lots of people.
"The rehabilitation of public space is a little bit symbolic. But the
living conditions of Haitians--in shacks, in slums--they don't have space where they can breathe,"
says government urban planner Leslie Voltaire. "We wanted to help the
citizens of Port-au-Prince have some feeling of participating in something
that is good for both of us--the people and the government."
Voltaire, an architect trained at Cornell University and political adviser
to President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, was invited by former president René
Préval to think about the project when he entered office in
1996. The project's completion is seen as an important first step in
improving the city's appearance for the celebration of the bicentennial
of Haiti's independence in 2004, as well as attracting the tourism that
has all but disappeared since the 1980s.
Daniel Elie, the principal architect on the project from beginning to end,
is particularly pleased with the renovated park's popularity among the poor.
"The park is a place where the poor can meet, take a nap, spend some
time with someone," Elie says. "It has the power to regenerate
the population. That regeneration of human life is just the beginning. We
are rehabilitating the city."
Critics contend that the government should have spent the money on health
care, education, sanitation, or infrastructure--all of which are in desperate
need. A recent UN report noted that 62 percent of the population suffers
from malnutrition, and the country's traffic-clogged roads are in ruins.
"[Champ de Mars] is certainly a benefit to the Haitian population,
but there are so many other things that need to be done, such as roads,"
says local architect Gerard Fombrun. "Still, it's one thing that I
can say is positive."
Indeed critics like Fombrun can't ignore the high turnout of people drawn
to its tranquil setting.
"My father used to tell me that Port-au-Prince was a nice capital,
and that things didn't break down," says Evans, whose father now resides
in northern St. Marc. "When I go back to see him, I'm going to tell
him that this place is fine."