PASS Haiti by. That was the advice given to the passengers on the steamer Medea in Graham Greene's novel The Comedians. Until recently, that is exactly what most potential tourists did -and for good reason. Haiti was the stronghold of the tyrannical Frangois ("Papa Doc") Duvalier. During his 14-year regime, thousands of Haitians were executed for real or imagined political opposition, and no one, including foreign tourists, could feel secure from harassment and arbitrary arrest.
Now all that seems to have changed.
Papa Doc is dead, and the title of President for Life has passed to his son Jean-Claude, 21. Under the comparatively benign rule of "Baby Doc," the activities of the dread secret police known as the Tontons Macoutes (Creole for bogeymen) have been curbed. The ostentatious display of military presence has been muted, although rifle-bearing police and militiamen can still be seen on the streets of Port-au-Prince, the capital. Even more important from the tourists' viewpoint Jean-Claude has extended a welcoming hand to foreign investors and visitors.
The foreigners are responding enthusiastically. Cruise ships that once sailed by have added Port-au-Prince to their itineraries. Airlines have increased international service from eight flights a week in 1966 to more than 60 a week. Last year more than 100,000 people visited Haiti, double the number only five years ago, and arrivals so far this year are at an alltime high.
No Paradise. Haiti bears little resemblance to the stereotyped Caribbean paradise. There is only one golf course, a modest nine-holer used mostly by diplomats and resident Americans. There are barely half a dozen overworked tennis courts. Gambling is confined to a rather dingy casino operated by an American named Mike McLaney.
Even the opportunities for such standard tropical pursuits as swimming and sunning are limited. Both Kyona and Ibo beaches-the only ones anywhere near the capital city-have limited facilities. In addition, they are a spine-snapping one-hour trip from Port-au-Prince over roads that are hopelessly rutted and potholed. In fact, Haiti's poor roads virtually confine all but the hardiest tourists to the capital city and its environs.
But Haiti offers enticements of its own. Even in the rural areas close to Port-au-Prince, it is still the land of "mountains of very great size and beauty, vast plains, groves and very fruitful fields" that enchanted Columbus in 1492, when he landed on the island he called Espanola. In Haiti's unpolluted air, sunsets are breathtaking, night skies are spectacular, and colors so vivid that they have inspired Haitians to become a nation of artists. There are more mundane attractions. Five days in a comfortable Port-au-Prince hotel can cost as little as $125, including breakfasts and dinners-far less than in the more familiar Caribbean isles. Another lure is the quick divorce; Haitian courts issue divorce decrees in less than 48 hours.