Marmelade (Creole: Mamlad) is an arrondissement in the Artibonite department of Haiti. It has 120,193 inhabitants. Postal codes in the Marmelade Arrondissement start with the number 45.
The arondissement consists of the following municipalities:
Location in Haiti
Neighboring Arrondissements
| North⬆️ | Limbé and L'Acul-du-Nord Arrondissements |
   |
|---|---|---|
| ↖️Northwest | Plaisance Arrondissement |   |
| South⬇️ | Dessalines Arrondissement |   |
| East➡️ | Saint-Raphaël Arrondissement |   |
| Southeast↘️ | Hinche Arrondissement |   |
| ⬅️West | Gonaïves Arrondissement |   |
Meet the municipalities[]
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Morne Pedregal[]
This location served as an advanced outpost along the border of the Marmelade borough. Historically, the boundary with the Dominican Republic was situated in this area. It is characterized by its elevated altitude and offers a panoramic view.
Composition about Pedregal
NOS SITES Perdegal et Saltadere (Our sites Pedregal and Saltadere)
0 morne Trois Frères, à la trinité montueuse ; Man Sainte d'où Ton domine l'Océan à perte de vue ; Morne a Cabrits, Pensez-Y-Bien, Morne Chien aux rochers difficultueux ;et vous, Montagnes de Vallière qui êtes bien un rejeton de cet Hymalaya haïtien', le CIBAO ; certes, vous avez laissé un souvenir horriblementvivant en notre mémoire de touriste et pourtant vous n'êtes point comparables
O Morne Trois Frères, to the mountainous trinity; Man Sainte from which we overlook the Ocean as far as the eye can see; Morne-à-Cabrits, Pensez-Y-Bien, Morne Chien with the difficult rocks; and you, Montagnes de Vallière who are indeed a descendant of this Haitian Himalayas, the CIBAO; certainly, you have left a horribly vivid memory in our memory as tourists and yet you are not comparable to PERDEGAL!
Steep, abrupt climb, with short bends, where not the slightest platform is offered to allow a stand and to let animals and people breathe - for half an hour we had to struggle desperately, uniting our efforts with those of the mounts (horses), to overcome your infernal ascent, and we happily triumphed — But treacherously you awaited us on the descent.
To make the horror of the contrast more striking, you have displayed before our eyes, O Perdegal, the marvelous panorama of this long, narrow Latapie savannah which seems an ocean of greenery, where, like an islet, the town of Crabahal lets the whiteness of its rustic little houses shine in the blazing sun; you continued to smile at us on your high plateau, with tiny savannahs framed by rocks of superb shapes and sizes, planted here and there, to liven up the landscape, a few cows with surprised and placid muzzles... But treacherously you waited for us at the descent.
Horror!... Imagine, because you must help us with your imagination, imagine the same path as previously, but steeper, steeper, without winding, that is to say almost steeply, and that it this time you have to descend on a rocky ground like hell, covered with rocks, which sometimes, mobile, roll in the footsteps of the horse, sometimes embedded in the hill, present either pointed points or narrow but deep excavations, so that the mount, not knowing where to place its hoof, after having searched to the right and to the left for an unfound passage, turns in despair towards its rider, to ask for vain help!
But that's not all yet — At intervals, the ground overhangs a gap of two to three feet which necessitates a jump to the other side, over what? Over the same treacherous rocks that are either unstable or sharp, presenting both their deadly teeth, plus their perilous holes - That's not all yet! In this critical situation, where all attention must be desperately paid to each of one's steps, one must also raise one's forehead to avoid head-butting enormous tree branches, or be careful not to crush one's legs in the narrow passage between two rocks or trunks of blasted oaks and pines.
So, yes, Perdegal, you have defeated us; because for the first time in our wanderings, we have set foot on land!
But, praise be to God! the horrible, as evil, is not continuous on this earth; after the storm comes the good weather; after the tears, the smile.
At the drop of the hill, an enchanting spectacle was reserved for us, which momentarily chased from our hearts all memory of the infernal journey we had just made. At l'Eau Paul, we turned right along a covered path which took us to Saltadère.
An indescribable marvel!... The Saltadère which is located to the northeast of Hinche, three leagues away, is for this village what the Citadelle Laferrière is for the Cape: one cannot have stayed a few days in Hinche without visiting this wonderful waterfall.
As we have said, it is the Samana river that we crossed when leaving Crabahal, which, subterraneanly crossing the Perdegal, springs from the lower side of this hill through a large excavation. The fall first takes place slowly, down a gentle slope, extending for around thirty meters (100 feet), letting milky water flow serenely, undulating in an infinity of small circles with graceful serrations which become iridescent in the rays of the sun; then suddenly, rushes from a height of eight to ten meters (~30 feet), in bubbling waves, into a large circular basin about a hundred feet (30 meters) in diameter and the bottom of which has not yet been probed.
This admirable fall has, we can say without rashness, both the grandiose aspect of a character and the poetic beauty of a cascatelle: it is gentle and grand at the same time. What charms - apart from the picturesque site which surrounds it - is first of all the oily softness of this sliding water which seems like natural milk; then the brutality of the fall, the crash of which can be heard from afar; and finally the particular color which the wave in the basin takes on: a bluish-green shade, "cerulean" we will say to use the favorite expression of Virgil when he speaks of the Italian sea.
Saltadère, as we well believe, is the object of the superstitious fear of the surrounding people. For nothing in the world, they don't visit it at night, and even less would they bathe there. They tell you that it is the abode of the Zings or evil angels; hence the name Bassin Zings given to Saltadère. — The word zing being certainly the abbreviation of zinghien, we easily recognize the corruption of the name Indian.
At certain times, it is said, we hear several leagues away the formidable, furious voice of the zings, which bursts out like cannon shots: it is, without a doubt, the same physical phenomenon which occurs near Port-au-Prince, at the abyss, that is to say rise which, from the vast savannah of Crabahal penetrating through the same outlet as the Samana into the underground depths of Perdegal, bursts with a crash at its exit from the mountain, by the crevice of Saltadère.
We went so far as to ask a native if he had ever seen a zing. This myth, we were told, only appears to human eyes under the appearance of a large fish swimming in the pool; also woe to the daring person who comes to throw his line or his trap there: he is struck down on the spot! And it seems that individuals died in these conditions... Others suggest that, similar to the "grouapes", the "sim 'bis", "the water masters" of other parts of the country, the zings manifest themselves in the form of mermaids, with the upper body of a woman with long hair and the bottom in a fishtail.
Some, more learned people, learnedly assert that as their name indicates, the zings are only real Indians, these natives of Haiti who escaped the Spanish destruction, live in small isolated groups in a wild fear, at the bottom of invisible caves where they only have access by diving under the waves, like Aristaeus when he had to visit his mother Cyrene.
-H. Chauvet
Michael Vedrine
Michael Vedrine