Today, the United States began surveying the damage inflicted by a devastating earthquake in Haiti this week. In addition to providing immediate humanitarian assistance, the U.S. response to the tragic earthquake should address long-held concerns over the fragile political environment that exists in the region.
The U.S. government response should be bold and decisive. It must mobilize U.S. civilian and military capabilities for short-term rescue and relief and long-term recovery and reform. President Obama should tap high-level, bipartisan leadership. Clearly former President Clinton, who was already named as the U.N. envoy on Haiti, is a logical choice. President Obama should also reach out to a senior Republican figure, perhaps former President George W. Bush, to lead the bipartisan effort for the Republicans.
While on the ground in Haiti, the U.S. military can also interrupt the nightly flights of cocaine to Haiti and the Dominican Republic from the Venezuelan coast and counter the ongoing efforts of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez to destabilize the island of Hispaniola. This U.S. military presence, which should also include a large contingent of U.S. Coast Guard assets, can also prevent any large-scale movement by Haitians to take to the sea in dangerous and rickety watercraft to try to enter the U.S. illegally.
Meanwhile, the U.S. must be prepared to insist that the Haiti government work closely with the U.S. to insure that corruption does not infect the humanitarian assistance flowing to Haiti. Long-term reforms for Haitian democracy and its economy are also badly overdue. Congress should immediately begin work on a package of assistance, trade, and reconstruction efforts needed to put Haiti on its feet and open the way for deep and lasting democratic reforms.
The U.S. should implement a strong and vigorous public diplomacy effort to counter the negative propaganda certain to emanate from the Castro-Chavez camp. Such an effort will also demonstrate that the U.S.’s involvement in the Caribbean remains a powerful force for good in the Americas and around the globe.
It was a little past midnight. I couldn’t sleep, my stomach hurt and my mind was far from at ease. No movie, television show, or novel would do, I needed something else. Having worked on a bike the past few days I decided to take a midnight stroll through the hills of chino. I convinced my cousin and off we went. He rode my younger brother’s fixie and I an old, beat up mountain bike that we found in my tio’s backyard. We headed towards the golf course, the physical divide between new and old chino hills. After about 20 minutes I realized I had no clue where we were. We slowed our pace to look for familiar signs and conserve energy. Lost, cold, and tired I felt a strange calm. The dim street lights allowed the moon and stars to shine brightly. The wind hitting our sweaty skin took me pack to adolescents in hotels: jumping into a cold pool after some minutes in the jacuzzi. The absolute silence reminded me of kicking the ball into the home made soccer goal in the old Pomona house. We finally found a sign for the 71 and followed it, going under the freeway, into Chino, towards the state prison, and back up towards chino hills. While my chain feel and the mechanism that adjust the length of it got stuck in the spokes, making me carry the stupid bike up hill for about 200 yards it was a nice ride.
Christmas was fast approaching and my sister grew anxious, as the jacket she bought her boyfriend had not arrived. When it did arrive, on the 24th her anxiety only grew: poorly constructed and flimsy the jacket was not what she hoped for. After browsing the internet I convinced her to buy a single speed road bike from some cat in Fontana. In person of course the bike was not as clean as it appeared on the internet. To make matters worse after buying the bike, it slipped off the bike rack, hitting the asphalt at 45 miles per hour and making the back tire and rim completely useless. In the middle of a crisis, we immediately dialed our older brother, an engineer and the so-called “genius” of the family. He offered simple, yet dumfounding advice: “solve the tequila crisis and you’ll solve the bike crisis. I have to go. Good luck.” Useless as usual I thought. What the hell does tequila have to do with a bike. After a brief scroll through my phone, I dialed our tio Raymundo. Not only does he make the best asada ever, he can build anything. He gave us a list of things to buy at home depot and told us to arrive early to Pico Rivera the next day. When we arrived to his house, he had a 12 pack of dos equis, and a set of tools out waiting for us. We took the bike apart, sanded and then painted the frame. And bought and fixed several parts. When the bike was finally complete (many days later) we toasted to the most interesting man in Pico Rivera with a 12 pack of dos equis.
