

Haiti’s countryside is stark and beautiful. Steep hills are cut with rows of crops against a perfect landscaped sky. This magical setting conceals the long struggle that Haitian farmers and rural communities have endured throughout history. At times, they’ve been enslaved, tortured, forgotten, and exploited. But as I dig my hands in this soil, among the weeds and fire ants, I can feel the opportunity for rebirth in every single moment.
Before I arrived in Haiti, I was inspired by the courage of thousands of Haitian farmers who marched through the streets and burned 400 tons of hybrid, genetically modified, and chemically treated seeds donated by multinational corporation Monsanto. Some of these farmers had lost their homes, their equipment, and their seeds in the 2010 earthquake. But they rejected the mindless international meddling in traditional practices with revolutionary force. The protesters chanted: “Long live the native maize seed! Monsanto’s GMO & hybrid seed violate peasant agriculture!”
Today, we stepped out of urban Haiti and into the power of one rural community. The Association of the Peasants of Fondwa (APF) is a grassroots organization that for more than two decades has empowered local farmers. APF’s approach is deeply rooted in sustainability—teaching farmers natural growing practices like crop rotation and seed saving, discouraging use of pesticides and herbicides, and maintaining native crops, as well as providing a range of services to improve the lives of the families in this community.
The story of peasant agriculture in Haiti is a tumultuous one. A majority of Haitians still live in rural communities like this one and depend on agriculture for their livelihoods. We walked through the fields and saw row after row of peas and beans, sweet potatoes, and corn. The area around the small village of Fondwa also produces plantains, bananas, citrus, and coffee. But paradoxically, Haiti remains one of the most food-insecure nations in the world.
The problem is a complex blend of misaligned agricultural policies, misdirected international food aid and trade policies, and the devastating mark of natural disasters on the Haitian landscape. But I can’t help but stand in these fields and feel that we are complicit in this. Haiti’s own governments have repressed the rural poor and contributed to massive degradation of the once-lush countryside. But since the 1980s, Haiti has become increasingly dependent on cheap imported food and food aid, and open trade and U.S. agricultural support policies have hurt Haitian farmers.
Today Haiti is one of the largest importers of U.S. rice, which is significantly cheaper than Haitian-grown rice because the U.S. government subsidizes rice production. Haitian rice farmers simply can’t compete, and rice production in Haiti has fallen dramatically as a result. In 1980, Haiti was nearly self-sufficient in food production; today, Haiti imports 60% of its food, including 80% of its rice, a staple of the economy (and one of the foods that we’ve been eating with every meal on this trip). Recently, President Clinton recently apologized for his role in backing additional subsidies for rice farmers in Arkansas, which in his words, have had “the consequences of the lost capacity to produce a rice crop in Haiti to feed those people, because of what I did.”
Before I arrived here in Haiti, I imagined a denuded countryside and a dim future for agricultural production. But standing today among these vibrant fields, I am confronted once again with my own assumptions. This place offers an opportunity for rebirth in every single moment. Underneath the garbage, the soil is rich and dark and fertile. Another paradox.
The farmers, activists, and teachers who are remaking this landscape and their community through traditional agriculture and teaching the next generation of Haiti’s rural population are an inspiration for the rest of the world. It’s a long road ahead, but giving farmers the tools, knowledge, and opportunity to produce the food their struggling nation needs, rather than just the food, must be the start of the road to recovery.
Find out more info on Off the Mat, Into the World’s 2012 Global Seva Challenge to battle sex trafficking in India here.
By Kristin Adair
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Kristin is trained as a lawyer and policy wonk, and now teaches vinyasa flow yoga classes in Washington DC. Kristin participated in the 2011 Global Seva Challenge, raising more than $20,000 for Haiti.
I didn’t knew all these amazing things about Haiti and about the Haitians living in rural communities. They are really an inspiration for the rest of the world!