Day Nineteen: A Shadow of Its Former Self
Photo: Grant Fuller
I’m living in a dining room. Hotel Karibe was one of the finest hotels in Port-au-Prince. Now, its cracked-up main building is clearly unsafe for guests. But the rest of the hotel facilities (dining hall, conference center, restaurant) are in good shape. And so, for lack of a better option, they’ve emptied out the dining tables and set up 18 double beds around the perimeter of this spacious room. Welcome to the new Hotel Karibe, where privacy suddenly takes a backseat to safety.
Especially on weeknights, this place feels like a ghost hotel. The buffet dinner sits untouched unless I (and maybe a couple other guests) decide to show up for it. Everyone goes to bed early because it’s so quiet. You get the distinct feeling that something is missing – that it wasn’t this way before. The front desk that’s now covered in dust used to be buzzing with activity. The gym that sits empty used to be alive with energy. The bored chef smoking his cigarette used to be the busiest man in town.
Just outside the hotel’s property wall is a humble apartment building that caved in on itself. You could use this picture to say, hey, the poor paid with their lives while the rich just don’t get to eat fancy buffet dinners anymore. But I think it’s more complicated than that. Hotel Karibe was the place to be. It was a symbol of economic success in a land where that’s hard to come by. And above all, it was a place Haitians could be proud of. I wonder if the hotel will ever get there again. I wonder if my bed will ever be moved back into a bedroom. I wonder if the buffet will be eaten. I wonder if the people will come back.
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