As if Haiti needs another way to flaunt the economic disparity amongst foreign NGO workers and the people they are trying to help, a rich Haitian family has decided to open what is now the Cadillac of grocery stores smack dab in the middle of Petionville. Just blocks away from not one, but two tent cities, the behemoth of a building aptly lives up to it’s name: “Giant.”
You walk inside and enter another world, one that’s filled with happiness and overconsumption. It’s almost like when you walk in the doors you leave Haiti and enter Whole Foods in America, in which every item is priced 10 times higher than you would buy the same items on the street (if they are even available on the street). The men stationed at the cold-cuts counter wear chef hats, the produce section is laid out like a cornucopia of vegetables and fruits that they decided to import from other countries, instead of buying locally, of course.
But the real reason this grocery store stands out from the rest is the sheer amount of choices. In most grocery stores here you can usually get what you need, minus the hundreds of options we are allowed in the States. While Jillian and I could not find refried beans for about 6 months here, everything else is cyclical, almost like every grocery store here lines up at the same shipping container every month and all of a sudden they all have Ginger Ale for a week or two. But at this place they always have ginger ale…in about 15 different varieties.
But you walk around with your little European style shopping trolley/basket and fill it with items that cost more than Haitians make in a day removing rubble. “Oh! Some brie! That would be delicious with some brown sugar and walnuts!” You pick it up, throw it in your cart, and bury your intense feelings of guilt knowing that the local population usually only enters this store to buy one item they urgently need because they don’t have time to locate it in the sprawling street market just blocks away. At another grocery store I was approached by a man in the milk section: “Will you help me buy formula for my baby?” he asked. “I’m sorry,” I awkwardly said and then walked away to go pick up pre-shredded cheese for Mexican night…bury, bury, bury.
I went with Jillian and my’s friend, Devon, who was visiting the city from the country-side town of Jeremie, and she almost couldn’t handle the choices. She walked through the store like a kid in a candy shop, realizing that if they had 75 different kinds of cereal, that was 74 more than the store has where she lives. She couldn’t believe her options, and decided to shop simply to stock up on cookies and other things that don’t reach the rural outskirts of Haiti.
But as you walk through the isles you notice something, or the lack of it. Where are the toiletries? Where are the cleaning supplies? Where is everything that is not edible? Well, that’s easy, you see. You simply take the ELEVATOR to the next floor!!!
(Yes, that is Devon getting excited to go up the elevator…)
Now, I haven’t been in Haiti for long, but I know for sure that this is only the second elevator that I’ve EVER been on while living here (the other is in the US embassy). This place has two, one to bring you to the second floor, and the other to bring you to the parking lot underneath the building. (Judging by the recent history of this country I will not be parking our trusty chariot, Pinotage, in the garage downstairs…)
But you go to the second floor, and it’s just like the first, but with every non-edible item you would ever need. You walk down the isles wondering if you are in a dream, until you turn the corner and see it…they have a wine shop! As if they needed to add to the incredible ridiculousness of this place, they have dedicated an entire area just to wine and liquor. It was here that I saw an employee bring a customer what appeared to be a piping-hot espresso…in a silver cup…on a silver tray…in a grocery store…in Haiti. I could not make this stuff up.
So like a Nickelodean Toy’s R Us Shopping Spree, Devon and I barreled through the isles as fast as we could, grabbing what we could hold, and sprinted to the counter, hoping that we weren’t just going to wake up. We checked out to bills that were far too expensive considering the country-context, and left feeling slightly overwhelmed.
And while getting excited about a grocery store may not make sense to many of you readers in the States, for those of you in Haiti, you will totally understand. Like I said before, there are a handful of grocery stores here already that have the items that we’re used to eating, so it’s not like we were struggling before. But this place makes all the rest of the grocery stores look like amateur-hour, and it could probably fit all the other grocery stores in it’s two stories of awesomeness.
But it’s funny, because when Jillian and I go to the States to visit it’s easy to be overwhelmed by the choices and the excessiveness that is the
capitalistic U.S. of A. After living in Haiti, that lifestyle is hard to swallow, but because everything there is like that it’s easier to accept. But here, this store, with it’s choices and it’s sheer humongousness, seems so out of place in a country that is inundated with poverty. It’s almost a good lesson to make you realize how ridiculous that lifestyle is, without the ability to write it off because everyone lives that way. You cannot avoid the tent cities on either side of this place, so no matter where you’re going after you just dropped 50 bucks on fun sauces and cheese, you are forced to remember how bad it is for the people that can’t afford to shop at a place like that.
Now I’m not saying that I won’t be returning to Giant, in fact I’ve been there again since I went with Devon, but I don’t think that the guilt will be going away anytime soon. It impossible not to feel bad buying such expensive food when others don’t even have a house. But having this little sliver of excessiveness is nice in some ways, because it’s comforting to know that if you had a really really bad day, you can just head over to Giant and grab a tub of Starbucks’ Signature Hot Chocolate ice cream, curl up by the oscillating fan, close your eyes, and think about home.
We love you guys.
Your story is more pointed for being written in Haiti, but it’s just as true in DC or CT or anywhere else. Your awareness of what all these choices really cost is priceless, thanks for laying it out for those of us who don’t see it as often or as clearly as you do.
you nailed it with the title. i remember when “new” eagle market opened in 2001 or so… the consumer culture grates especially hard and rough in the context of Haiti.
the photos remind me of shopping in the DR. Here’s hoping for more Haitian products on those shelves soon…
I think we met the guy who asked you for money for formula – I guess he’s going from market to market because he hit us up in Deli-Mart (Delmas) today. Wonder where he’ll be tomorrow.
that was a great post! I suppose by shopping there, you are helping fuel the economy……I mean, a lot has to go into running the place and there are locals who have jobs etc….. just a thought?
I am COMPLETELY dumbfounded! Here for the past 6 months, I have been preparing my family for what was to be life in Haiti as I knew it. (We are moving there next week for a year.) My disappointment is SMASHING against my joy. And I am sickened by it all. We were ready to live life in Haiti – WITHOUT all the comforts of US life. FULLY PREPARED I tell you. Now I know that I can pop on over to Giant (which by the way is the name of our own supermarket – believe it!), and grab some Haagen Das. What? OK. This really throws some plans out of whack – so we DON’T have to pack so much instant coffee now…..UGH…..and….Yippee. Oh it’s such a strange feeling(s).
um, John & Perla, WHY would you pack instant coffee to move to Haiti???
FYI, there is plenty of delicious and LOCALLY-PRODUCED coffee in Haiti.
can’t drink brewed.
[…] where I’m going with this. The “Giant Store Haiti” one makes sense, as I had just wrote that post about the behemoth of a food store opening close to us. “Sandwich cookie +orange” […]
[…] were going to, none other than Haiti’s very own GIANT Supermarket!, or rather, GIANT le super marché […]
[…] It was a victory for the Thorps, and a victory for Haiti, which after the earthquake, a cholera epidemic, and a recent hurricane, now has one less thing to worry about. President Preval, in an incredibly uncharacteristic act of charisma, got off the couch he has been watching reruns of Law and Order on for the past 10 months and handed me the key to the city. Unfortunately, this key does not give me unlimited access to the Giant supermarket. […]
If only i had those choices…I envy all of the rediculous amounts of money youre going to waste on things you forgot you needed. I mean, Cap’n Crunch?!?!?! I NEED it! Starbucks ice cream? Definitely NEED that.
In Bemba, the word for “need” and “want” are the same: ukufwya
So basically, my theory is that if you can be eating some comfort foot, it makes you feel a whole lot better about being away from home! And yes, due to my electricity access for the week, I have stored half a dozen juice boxes in the freezer. Popscicles that you dont have to worry will melt by the time you get home! Hooray!
Wow! The times I have been in Haiti I was overwhelmed by the Carribean Market in P-ville!
This post certainly does make one think. After just returning from the (“giant”) grocery store here and not giving much of a thought to it, I am feeling guitly just reading this. In the context of your life right now, and the lives of which you are surrounded by, this is really maddness. It shines a huge spotlight on how insane we can sometimes be.
Now, don’t get me wrong, next time I vist Haiti you can bet I will be there stocking up on Diet Coke. But when I think of my 4 brothers still living in Delmas I am saddened that the focus of the family who built this was to make it easier for the NGO’s, not really the locals.
Its a post that is giving me weird feelings….. hmm.
By the way, I am bookmarking you so I can continue to follow you. I was lead here by Real Hope for Haiti (via Facebook) to read your recent post on Cholera.
Chris,
Thanks for the comment, the grocery store does give me a weird feeling too. There are times when I go there just because I know I can make one stop and they will have everything I need, but then I realize how lazy that is when many of the things (especially produce) is available in the markets, and can be bought from locals.
Thanks again and welcome,
Frank
I think it’s brilliant to provide ‘comforts of home’ for the NGO workers. It makes us more likely to stay, come back, or stay longer. Additionally, the family is providing employment – something Haiti desperately needs. Support your local Giant, support the local economy.
Why do you point your judgmental finger at this store? This damn city needs to start attracting people with disposable income to ever get this city away from the brink of slum city as it is now.
You are envious at progress, and for some reason the fact that there is camps close by has WHAT to do with a store that has been planned way earlier than the dogu-dogu?
Dear Someone,
I had to reread my post before responding to your comment, as I’m not sure you understood the point. The post isn’t pointing a “judgmental finger” at the store, it’s discussing the guilt that I feel by having the opportunity, and resources, to buy delicious food while there are almost a million people living in tent camps around the city. I go to Giant almost every day for groceries, and I think this “damn city” has more than enough foreign aid workers packing the isles of that grocery store, and spending their disposable income, to say that it’s doing just fine.
Now, I’m also not sure why you would consider me envious of progress, because the ability to choose from 100 different cereals doesn’t necessarily constitute “progress” in my mind. Progress would entail getting those in tent camps into transitional, or even permanent, homes. Progress would be getting the 50% of children here who are unable to attend school the ability to do so. Progress is NOT giving those with disposable income another place to buy groceries, there were plenty of those before Giant opened it’s doors.
This post marvels at how wonderful it is to have a little sliver of home here in Haiti, and how there can sometimes be guilt associated with that. If there’s any judgment, it’s pointed inwards.
Thanks for reading,
Frank
P.S. The earthquake is referred to here as “goudou goudou”, not “dogu-dogu”
P.P.S. Next time you leave a critical comment like this, write your name instead of “Someone” from “Somewhere”. Stand by your words…I do.
[…] regarding a post I did last September about Giant supermarket in Petionville (you can see it HERE). The post was a satirical look at the economic disparity in PAP, and how this new grocery store […]