I’ll be the first to admit it—voodoo terrifies me. So it was a little surprising that I willingly agreed to visit a Haitian houngan, the Creole name for a priest who practises voodoo (or Vodou, as it’s spelled in Haiti).

Despite my vigilant attempts to avoid close contact with Vodou during my 10 days in the country, I had already blundered into a couple of tricky situations—including inadvertently purchasing a Vodou god in a busy little market, then quickly pawning it off on a friend after realizing what I had done. And now here I stood with the friendly Jean-Baptiste Jean Joseph inside his peristil, the rough equivalent of a Vodou church.

With a big smile on his face, Jean Joseph quickly allayed my fears. As well as a Vodou houngan, Jean Joseph is an artist. Walking through his attached studio, where our group had come to see (and perhaps buy) his flags and banners, he told me about his conversion from Christianity to Vodou. (Vodou is Haiti’s official religion, along with Roman Catholicism.) He said that one night, in a dream, a spirit of love and sharing came to him, and now that spirit inhabits him in everything he does.

“Vodou is about prosperity and good. It’s here to help you thrive,” he said. Taking the small bottle of rum brought along by our tour group, he offered some to the various spirits in the peristil. He explained that people come here to make requests—to overcome sickness, or to do well on exams—much in the way Christians pray for similar things. He also noted that small dolls and pins are a mere Hollywood creation of what Vodou is about.

“For me, the spirits are here for healing and help and protection,” he said. “They have been good to me.”

Overcoming my fear of Vodou was just one of many surprises in Haiti, a country that is now opening to an increasing flow of tourists. Devastated by a massive earthquake five years ago and long plagued by poverty and political instability, the country is attempting to attract visitors by positioning itself as the Caribbean’s prime cultural destination.

While Haiti is home to some excellent beaches—particularly on the south coast, and a small island called Île-à-Vache, where a number of new resorts are opening—its primary charms are cultural, historical, and artistic. I was here to sample it all as a guest on a new G Adventures tour of the island that launched in February.

Beginning my travels in the capital, Port-au-Prince, I spent some time in the city’s small but fascinating national museum, learning how the world’s only successful slave revolt defeated Napoleon’s forces in 1803, giving the country its independence in 1804 and creating one of the oldest republics in the Western Hemisphere. From there, I toured the city’s centre, where earthquake recovery continues in the form of a number of large building projects as the city continues to rise, both literally and figuratively.

After taking in monuments like the statue of national hero Toussaint Louverture and the Marron Inconnu—an iconic tribute to thousands of unknown slaves—I visited an art colony known as Atis Rezistans, built out of the rubble of the quake, where artists display their work in open-air galleries, some of it created out of human skulls and bone.

There, artist Jean-Pierre Romel told me there’s more to the colony, and to this art form, than meets the eye. “Even in death, there is life,” he said philosophically. “All of this is a reminder to enjoy every minute you’re alive.” I asked him about Haiti’s chances of prospering as the country rebuilds, and there, too, he noted that things aren’t so simple.

Even in the countryside—the country’s poorest region—he noted that extensive social networks and cooperation enrich life. “When they’re working a field, not everyone has their hand on the plow. But some people bring rum, and others play a drumbeat to encourage,” he said, noting that the same spirit reigns in this artist collective. “Everyone works together.” And he was optimistic about the current course the country is charting, in terms of tourism. “I don’t want to be just another beach destination, with big brands and huge hotels. I want things to stay natural, and for everyone to get a slice.”

And so I journeyed outside the capital, first to the north, visiting Cap-Haïtien and its truly remarkable UNESCO World Heritage Site Citadelle Laferrière and Sans Souci, a fort and palace built in the first half of the 19th century, soon after Haiti declared independence. I bargained with the merchants in the local market and walked the dense collection of streets in the heart of Cap-Haïtien, then skirted the sea, walking along a boardwalk and watching small boats with homemade sails as they drifted out into the blue.

I finished my trip in the southern town of Jacmel, where I swam in the Bassin-Bleu—a waterfall that cradled in the mountains, high above the city, which we reached by fording a river in the back of a pickup truck. I returned to town for a tour with Jean Cyril Pressoir, general manager of a travel and logistics company called Tour Haiti.

He told a familiar story as we walked around the quiet streets. Jacmel was once a wealthy coffee-trading port, but poor leadership and bad politics stifled business (a fact evidenced by ornate but now cracked and forsaken storefronts). The trees that once sheltered coffee plants were cut down to make charcoal. Coffee plants were replaced with corn. Jacmel became a ghost town, before recently beginning a comeback as a centre for arts and crafts, especially papier-mâché.

I asked Pressoir about Haiti’s chances of attracting tourists. He thought about it for a moment.

“If you’re looking for anything easy, or standard, or even comfortable, don’t come to Haiti,” he said, noting that the country’s charms are found in low-to-the-ground experiences: eating local food, taking hikes through the countryside, staying in small hotels, meeting the people. “We want more travellers—but we need the right kind.”

Driving back toward Port-au-Prince later in the day, we wound over vertiginous road, and I looked out at the mountain splendour—range upon range of big peaks, unparalleled in the Caribbean. I was reminded of the Creole proverb in Haiti: “Dèyè mòn gen mòn,” which means, “Beyond these mountains, more mountains.”

Haiti’s people may have many more mountains to climb. But it seems that better things—including more tourists—are on the way.

ACCESS: G Adventures runs a 10-day Highlights of Haiti Tour. Both Air Canada and Air Transat offer direct flights from Montreal to Port-au-Prince.