YOU COULD GO TO THE TRAVEL AGENTS AND BOOK YOURSELF ON A FLIGHT TO SOME MICKEY MOUSE STYLE FUN PARK THATS ALREADY GETTING OUTDATED AND RUSTY AFTER 15 YEARS, HOWEVER IF YOU TRAVEL BY 'WADE DAVIS AIR' YOU WILL FIND LOCATIONS, SETTINGS, AND STORIES THAT YOU WOULD SAY ARE DEFINTELY NOT OF THIS WORLD. I HAD NEVER READ ANYTHING LINKED WITH THE VOODOUN RELIGION BEFORE, OR GIVEN IT MUCH THOUGHT OTHER THAN ITS SOME FARSICAL STAGESHOW, PUT ON BY CLEVER ILLUSIONISTS OF THE UNCIVILISED WORLD. WADE DAVIES TOOK ME BY THE HAND AND INTRODUCED ME TO THESE PEOPLE, AND THEIR WAYS. HIS BLEND OF ANALYSIS AND STORY TELLING LEFT ME WITH LITTLE DOUBT THAT WHAT THIS MAN HAS SEEN IS A DIFFERENT REALITY, A REALITY WHICH WE HAVE BEEN CONVINCED TO OVERLOOK, AND DISMISS AS RUBBISH. ITS TIME TO OPEN OUR EYES, AND THIS BOOK HAS INSTILLED ME WITH THAT BELIEF.THE ONLY BAD THING ABOUT THIS BOOK IS THAT IT ENDS!

Beverly Bells Walking on Fire is extraordinary in that it brings to print first-person narratives of excruciating and harrowing violence, which are at once narratives of survival, resistance and overcoming. Bells book is effectively an edited volume of (mostly poor, mostly non-literate) Haitian womens testimonies about life in Haiti during and after the coup-etat against Jean-Bertrand Aristide (1991-1994), framed by Bells contextualizing analysis. Entering the anthropological conversations about everyday acts of resistance generated by James C. Scott (1990) Bells central argument is that Haitian women engage in resistance, or "the negotiation of power by the weaker against the strong," in many ways that are usually overlooked, and that "the definition of resistance is expanded to include any act that keeps the margins of power from being further encroached upon, even where the protagonist cannot expand those margins." Trapped at the bottom of a system of structured inequality, "if [a woman] does no more than maintain her resources and rights in the face of attempts by other people, institutions, or systems to deny her them then she practices resistance." (p. 5)

Most of the women featured in the volume are members of one of the loosely organized coalitions of grassroots groups known as the "popular movement." Each woman, then, is engaged in some aspect of political organizing, collective action or cooperative living. A central theme in the women's narratives is that it is through collective efforts that meaning-making analysis is forged and dignity is recovered. In Bell's book, poor Haitian women come to an understanding of their situation, their victimization and themselves, that allows them to recover the selves that have been traumatized. It is this transformative process that the women in the book undergo--by speaking their stories to her comrades in collectives and, one senses, in recounting their narratives to Bell. Because of this transformation operating in most of the stories, the tone of the volume is often celebratory, even optimistic, in the face of relentlessly harsh realities.

One extraordinary story is that of Tibebe ("little baby"), presented in a section titled "Resistance as Survival." A product of the rape of her mother, a servant, by her employer's son, she is born on a street corner and never issued a birth certificate or a proper name. She is given away by her mother to be a restavek, a child slave. When her biological aunt sees her as an older child, she realizes Tibebe is a relative, and gives her the name--and the birth certificate--of her biological father's legitimate daughter, who has just died. At the end of her father's life the family abandons him in his loss of fortune and it is Tibebe who pays for his funeral. Tibebe is finally taken to a women's group, where, she says, "They made feel like I exist in society. I became a person." (p. 44) Exemplifying the problems of structural poverty, the child slave system, illiteracy and violence against women, this first-person narrative presents primary source evidence of the local and the specific within the contextualized analysis Bell brings to bear on the structural and systemic.

Bell's methods are noteworthy: she develops a process of interviewing poor members of what she loosely terms the "women's movement," travelling to women's dwelling places and recording their stories in Creole. She holds a small tape recorder and invites: "Tell me anything you want about your life, about what it's like to be a Haitian woman." ( p. xv) After transcribing and editing the interviews, Bell meets them again to read back their words, and they work together to reshape the text to their specifications. The results--oral histories, testimonies--are highly constructed and edited, but the important point here is that they are edited in collaboration with the subjects themselves. This methodology is time-intensive and problematic--from the point of view of the tradition of single authorship--but it addresses problems that have long vexed subaltern studies in that it presents stories authored and edited by poor women themselves. If each narrator performs a pattern of redemption of sorts--she was a hopeless victim but now she is a dignified human being who is oppressed yet politically aware--then perhaps that is ultimately the evidence for the book's message. It is through collective association and narrative construction (meaning making) that the oppressed and victims of violence--can regain their humanity and negotiate power.

Another truly extraordinary story is that of Alerte Belance, whose narrative is presented in a section entitled "Resistance for Political and Economic Change." A grassroots community organizer who spoke out in her poor neighborhood against the 1991 coup d'etat, Belance was kidnapped and brought to the infamous "killing field" of Titanyen, outside Port-au-Prince. Hacked in the head and arms with a machete, Belance was left for dead but managed to survive, one arm severed, face and tongue cut in half. "They killed me that night in Titanyen," begins her story. (p 104) She was attacked by members of the paramilitary group FRAPH, who were financed by the United States Central Intelligence Agency to destabilize Aristide's government. (p. 13) She has since filed a lawsuit against that organization and is supported by several international human rights groups. It is Belance who is given the last word in the volume, and she extends the books argument by speaking directly to enfranchised North Americans: "You who are not victims, you should lend a hand. Because many hands make the burden light." (p. 234)

Louis brings the to the traditional storyteller's art a tout-a-fait- modern touch!As an educator, I found When Night Falls,Kric!Krac! a valuable resource for my classroom. As a reader, I was mesmerized by the exotic, interesting, and often hilarious folktales. LOVED IT, AND HAD TROUBLE PUTTING IT DOWN!

Author Seldon Rodman revisits Haitian Art in a tomb that will grasp the reader's attention. Rodman has a passion for Haitian Art and this volume reaffirms his love of the island and their many talented artists. Rodman is not a newcomer to Haiti and the Art of Haiti. He has authored several titles on the subject and this current title updated with color illustrations will inform the reader of the mystique of Haiti. Rodman tells us that the economically poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere is culturally rich in artistic pursuits. He shows us that Haitian Art is not just about market scenes. For those who desire to learn more about such a rich culture and beautiful art and those who have a love of naive art this title is a must.

As the 19th century became the 20th, Hesketh Prichard [...] became the first white to penetrate the interior of the island of Haiti for 100 years. He was there for the recently-launched London Daily Express, and sparked enormous interest in the practice of voodoo that he uncovered, which is detailed here.
Big-game shot, cricketer and naturalist, HP was one of the leading Edwardian adventurers. Although not a liberal, his writing is happily free of bigotry, and he provides a unique insight into the life of the island at that time.
His next trip was to Patagonia to look into reported sightings of the giant sloth. I am one of his great-grandchildren, and the Daily Express sent me back to Patagonia in 2000. [...]

To read Zombi, You My Love is to immerse yourself in Haiti. Through the stories of people, mostly in the time of the fall of Baby Doc, one catches glimpses of the rich diversity of the culture. The stories are, for the most part, loosely tied together with characters recurring throughout the book. The language in the book feels dead-on, as do the descriptions of the people and places. Some of the stories recount the work of Americans in Haiti; while a few are true humanitarians who understand and respect the people and the culture, many are feckless interlopers who have agendas that have little to do with the improving the quality of life of Haitians. The books offers unflinching views lives doomed, regained, and wasted. Reading the book was a thoroughly enjoyable, sometimes uncomfortable experience. I would highly recommend it.

I bought this book years ago and put it down after I realized it was nothing like the movie. Man, I'm glad I wizened up. The book saturates you in a country and culture where nothing is as it seems. Secret societies, Vodoun (as Davis refers to it in the book) and yes, Zombies are throughout it's pages. But what I thought was really interesting is when Davis talks about the history of Haiti. I could not get enough. Not only does he paint an amazing portrait of a remarkable people, but he masterfully takes you step by step on how the brutal origins of the country reflects it's modern day society and religion.

When he does talk about the Zombie poison, Davis makes it easy to understand how without giving specifics but revealing the major components. Beginning with a sound hypothesis when starting on his adventure and unraveling the mystery scientifically as the book progresses. He loves is terminology, but never does it frustrate the reader. Also, where he excels again is when he uses historical reference to provide many examples how similar or the same poisons have accidentally given the appearance of death in different parts and times of the world. Furthermore Davis explains that the poison is just a component to religious and social conditioning that reinforce the defintion of "Zombi".

After reading "The Serpent and the Rainbow" it will compel you to look up figures such as Macandal, Dr. Francois Devalier and especially Zore Neale Hurston, in which he names a chapter from the works of this remarkable woman.

My only complaint about the book is that I wish the author had provided a map. As descriptive as he is, it's hard to get a point of reference. One would say go on the net, but that's hard to do when your reading on a bus.

What I find ironic is that the movie of the same name glorifies the stereotypes in wich this book goes a lengths to disprove. But the irony within that irony is that if it wasn't for the movie, I never would have bought and read such a great book.

Written by an ethnobotanist (a combination of a botanist and an anthropologist), this book focuses on Haiti, the secret societies within Haiti, and of course, the psychological and scientific means of making a zombie. No, Wade Davis doesn't come out and say, to make a zombie, do this, this, and this. Instead, he uses reason and logic to track down the actual processes, both social and psychological, that lead to the Haitian people's tendency to believe in them. As it's written by a scientist, the focus on Haiti's past and culture should be more expected than a flat out 'Indiana Jones goes to the tropics'. For those who've seen the movie: no, he doesn't get zombie poison blown in his face. No, he doesn't get buried alive. No, he doesn't get harassed by a corrupt police chief who cuts off peoples' heads. It's pretty down to earth. For those really interested in Haitian culture and, to some extent, voodoo, this is a perfect book to read. If you want adventure, rent the movie.

Davis guides us through a fantastic world in this superb account of his investigation into Haitian "secret societies." Although outlandish at first glance, Haitian social justice and how it's administered is revealed in its deep cultural framework. The terms "voodoo" and "zombie," so ignorantly applied in our culture over the years, are clarified by this serious scholar. Davis offers much more than simply a redefinition of what media has distorted. He examines the origins and use of various toxins that are applied to put a living person in a death-like trance. This seemingly "evil" practice has deep and positive social roots. It's the social milieu that ultimately gives this book its real value. As Davis pursues botanical sources used in rendering people comatose, he is caught up in an investigation of why the drugs are used on particular individuals.

Davis' quest began with a commission to investigate anesthetic drugs from plants and animals. His mentor, Richard Schultes, was considered the founder of ethnobotany, the study of plant chemistry as a cultural artifact. Davis is sent to Haiti in 1982, a time of growing awareness of the numbers of natural products overlooked for medicinal use. Davis is sent to Haiti to investigate the zombi myths. He learns of the use of "magic powders" to bring about a catatonic state. People are declared dead, buried, but are exhumed and led away, often to a life of near slavery. Davis, using Schultes' work as background, investigates the Datura genus of plants. Datura in various species, ranges across the Western Hemisphere and is widely used by Amerindian and other peoples for various rituals. So, too, are the excretions of Bufo marinus, the Central American "cane toad," that today is the scourge of vast reaches of Australia. Its poison was adapted for various uses in Europe within years of Columbus' voyages.

This pharmocopoeia of toxins and anesthetic drugs have been a part of many cultures, but in Haiti, they prove to be a mechanism of social justice. Wade's account of the structure of Haitian society is worth the price of the book. The classic picture of hierarchical society, resembling so vividly that of our own, is dissected carefully by Davis. Haiti, with its history of dictators and oppression, foreign rule and harsh slavery so vividly depicted by North American media, retains a hidden but powerful underlying structure. While the government seems to sit dominant in Port-au-Prince, in the rural areas an almost independent organization of communities flourish. These local structures reflect accepted norms, deal with local conflict and provide an underlying enforcement mechanism for the maintenance of social order. Their foundation is derived from African roots, modified by Roman Catholic ritual, and remain unheralded except by those who decry their secretiveness. Wade argues these community establishments are not truly "secret societies," but instead reflect the needs of people for whom bombastic pronouncements have no place in their daily existence. The houngans ["vodoun priests"] are little more than Haitian parsons supporting their local populations.

Although focused on Haiti, Davis' book cannot but evoke how much we have yet to learn about other "hidden" or "clandestine" societies. If the method of "zombification" of malefactors seems extreme in our view, it may be simply because we hide our criminals away in concrete tombs at taxpayer's expense. Davis explains that no victim of zombification has been selected arbitrarily. Each situation is carefully examined to assess whether the victim has offended family or the community. Catatonic drugs are administered to render the culprit to a state where they may be transported from the community they've offended. To Davis, it's simply the quiet application of justice. Is this a technique we could apply in our own society? Probably not, since we don't possess the cultural background. But the rendering of justice at the local level for local offenses is surely something we might consider as a behavioural innovation. Davis leaves this question open, but if we engage in the type of investigation he relates, there might be other examples in other societies from which we can learn. This book offers much information and interesting examples of lives different from our own.

This is a "must read" for anyone who wants a complete, and relatively unbiased history of Haiti. However it suffers from a number of weaknesses. The one that would make reading much easier is to list the YEAR in which an event happened. The authors give a year and a month of an event, and then ten pages later state, "by September", not realizing that the reader has lost track of what year is being talked about. Second, there is no need to show off that the authors a fluent in French and Creole. It is distracting for anyone not really familiar with either language to figure out the little phrases the authors put in without translataion. Finally, one must keep in mind that the original author of this book was the senior U. S. Marine officer in Haiti during the time of Papa Doc (he was thrown out). As a result this book provides a very favorable review of the American occupation, and especially the role of the Marines.

Exhaustively researched and unbiased, this book covers the Haitian national experience from the time of Columbus to the aftermath of the recent U.S. intervention. One of its strengths is that it was written by an American famility who lived in Haiti during some of its most tumultuous times, and developed a true passion for the topic.

This is an excellent book. I have yet to read a more unbiassed detailed book on the history of Haiti, wheter in the French or English language.

The book details with precision the lives of the many players that have affected Haiti's political landscape in one way or another.

I recommend this book to all Haitians, or to anyone who's interested in knowing the reasons behind the current horrific political and social situation of Haiti.

You'll be suprised to learn who the true heroes of Haiti are.

This collection of nine short stories was somewhat depressing to read. The stories of, for the most part, poverty stricken Haitian people were very intense and hard to believe. These stories show the amazing will power of these people despite the harsh oppression facing them. Danticat is a wonderful writer especially since she started at such a young age. Her different writing styles and technique make the reading very interesting and unique. She also uses a form of poetry that is very well done. I read a brief Haitian history after reading the book and this proved to be extremely helpful in a better understanding. Overall The writing was wonderful, but the stories a little intense.

The first thing that came to my mind while reading Edwidge Danticat's collection Krik? Krak! is that it is pure poetry. The first lines in "Children of the Sea", the first short story in the collection, are "They say behind the mountains are more mountains. Now I know it's true. I also know there are timeless waters, endless seas, and lots of people in this world whose names don't matter to anyone but themselves." The lyrical poetic style is consistent throughout all of Danticat's prose, which makes Krik? Krak! an easy and beautiful book to read despite the heavy issues addressed in each story within it. In Haiti a story-teller will say "Krik?" and anyone wishing to hear the story answers, "Krak!" and this is the basis for many of the stories Danticat writes.

And many important themes are dealt with in these deceptively simple stories. Most of them encompass three main issues: Poverty and hard times in Haiti, mother and daughter relationships and the self-awareness brought to each because of them, and the transition of immigrants. In Haiti a story-teller will say "Krik?" and anyone wishing to hear the story answers, "Krak!" and this is the basis for many of the stories Danticat writes. Although each story can be easily summarized, the underlying theme and unexpected conclusions reveal much more about life, especially a life of poverty and despair.

In "Children of the Sea", a young man on a ship from Haiti to the US writes letters to his girlfriend and Haiti and she writes letters to him, although they cannot send them to each other. In "Nineteen Thirty-Seven", a girl visits her mother, who is in prison for being accused of witch-craft. "A Wall of Fire Rising" is in interesting perception of poverty, in which a mother and afather trying to raise their young boy in a happy environment face insurmountable pressures. The central character in "Night Women" is a mother who works as a prostitute in order to support her son while in "Between the Pool and the Gardenias" it is a young sterile woman who greatly desires a child even among the poverty and distress so many young children face in Haiti. A young motherless girl befriends an American journalist during the war in Haiti in "The Missing Peacce" and another young girl is painted naked by a French artist in "Seeing Things Simply". A woman randomly sees her mother walking down the street in New York City in "New York Day Women" and realizes that she has a life unto herself, while in "Caroline's Wedding", the longest and last short story in the book, a daugther gets married to a man her mother disapproves of because he is not Haitian.

Perhaps the most poignant part of "Krik? Krak!" is the epilogue which reveals why Edwidge Danticat, the young author of the book, writes these stories. For her and many other women they represent an oral history passed down from mother to daughter, and from that daughter to her daughter and so on. Each short story in this book is an example of such a rich oral tradition and is a very convincing glimpse into the lives of some Haitians and Haitian-Americans. If you read Krik? Krak! and discover that you like it as much as I did, and are interested in more books dealing with a mother/daughter and/or immigration theme, I also recommend "The Joy Luck Club" by Amy Tan, "Two Novellas: First Love and Look for my Obituary" by Elena Garro, "Our House in the Last World" by Oscar Hijuelos, and "White Oleander" by Janet Fitch. ...

In this book there are a bunch of differnt stories about Haitian life. This one is surely a page turner. It's not really suspensful but the stories are just written very well. Some of it is quite sad, but it makes for a good read. You probably won't lose interest with this book. Happy reading!

Today there are few travelers to the Island of Hispaniola compared to other Caribbean Islands. For those of you looking for a travel log you would be better served with Bradt's "Haiti & the Dominican Republic". If your are looking for information on the history, culture and politicts of Haiti and the Dominican Republic then this is the most complete and accurate book I have found.

I'm a frequent traveler to Hispaniola and specifically to Haiti where I lead several missionary trips a year. People who go on these trips always have a lot of questions and my most FAQ's are; "Why are they so poor? Why doesn't their Government help? What is the US doing?", etc. Michele Wucker takes all this dirty laundry out and waves it for everyone to see. She offers objective comparison of the cultures and why there is so much strife. The book is a compassionate dialog of history, fact and folklore that I couldn't put down. She spares no one and provides an honest and (I think) accurate review of all three countries involved (Haiti, The Dominican Republic, and The United States).

After living for almost 28 years in the Dominican Republic, I thought there was not much I could learn about the culture and peoples of Hispaniola, but Michele Wucker's Why the Cocks Fight has opened up a whole new chapter in my knowledge of this enchanting island. Her choice of the cockfights as a metaphore to illustrate the island's struggle through its five centuries of history, is a brilliant way to describe the complex dynamics at work in the two societies trapped within it.

For some of my fellow Dominicans, this book will be a tough drink to swallow, because Michele, in this well researched work, has confronted the ghosts that have haunted Hispaniola for 500 years of history, and that have bound together the paths of these two nations. In the early 1900's, Dominican poet Juan Antonio Alix, in his work "El Negro detrás de la Oreja" (The Black Behind your Ear) joked about how every Dominican, no matter how white the color of his skin, could find a black ancestor in his family. That is a truth that Dominicans do not want to face, and something that Michele has shown in her book.

Michele's accounts of the treatment of Haitian workers by the Dominican Sugar Cane Establishement is an accurate portrail of a situation which unfortunately roams over the heads of an otherwise friendly and sometimes naive Dominican population. But, as she well points out, the Haitians keep on crossing the frontier with the Dominican Republic, regardless of the abuses, because the alternative is the shark infested waters of the Atlantic ocean.

Why the Cocks Fight is a must read for anybody interested in Hispaniola, but also for those interested on the effects of immigration in the United States and the transformation of societies and cultures whose inhabitants have been exposed to the "american way".

I can't wait for her next book.

If you happen to be like me, you know far less about Haiti and the Dominican Republic than you know about, say, Italy and Greece -- even though the island of Hispaniola lies just a short flight from American shores. This book educated me, and entertained me as well. In the human tone of a journalist rather than the pedantic language of a historian, the book uses the island's popular sport -- cockfighting -- as a metaphor for the two nations and their bloody political history. This book is a model of how to introduce someone to another culture. I recommend it if you have any interest in these nations.