As upsetting as it was watching the reports on television of the devastating 7.0 magnitude earthquake that occurred in Port-au-Prince, Haiti on January 12, 2010, being there and seeing it firsthand upset me even more. It is unfathomable how the Haitian people are managing to live there among the dust, debris and gravel -- piles of crumbled rocks, bricks and stones. Yet, they remain resilient and try to go on with their lives. Millions are still living in tiny shanties and shacks no bigger than my tool shed (which is in better condition). The sweltering heat (above 95 degrees) and extremely high humidity during the two days we were there only added to the misery. Tarps covered most of the shanties in order to keep things from becoming more unbearable in the event of a heavy rainfall. Even the top portion of the Capital building housing the President of the Republic of Haiti, René Prèval, had been toppled by the earthquake and was still in need of repair.
The four of us -- Eddie (my husband and our amateur photographer), Joseph Geffrard, a native of Haiti, who now lives in Columbia, MD (our translator), Vivian Lakes (our spiritual guide and point-person) and I - were eager to set out on this goodwill mission in order to reach out to some of the orphanages in Port-au-Prince. Our goal: to offer relief aid for the orphans left motherless and/or fatherless by this deadly disaster. Prior to the earthquake, there were 300,000 Haitian orphans. Now there are over 700,000. They desperately need all the help they can get. But help has been slow in coming to Haiti. Of the many countries that initially pledged millions for the recovery, only two to three percent of them have come through and delivered the urgently needed financial aid they promised.
Getting to the orphanage was no small task. Having Joe Geffrard along with us turned out to be a blessing. Besides the fact that, because of my limited ability to commutate in French, Joe was there to translate for us the Creole spoken by the native Haitian people, he also had enlisted our driver, Clebert, to transport us around the island, which was no easy task. The roadways were still in horrendous condition. Whenever the van stopped along the way, little children would crowd around our van, stick their hands in the window and beg us in Creole, "Donnez-moi, ,,, s'il vous plait." After so many handouts, regrettably, we had to ignore them. Poor children were everywhere.
We were not prepared for the sheer poverty and desperate conditions that we would witness along the way. Words cannot adequately describe the sights and sounds that we encountered. The sight of a man (a father, I presume) having to walk his little 3 or 4-year old daughter to a spot beside a tent where, out in the open, she squatted and began urinating as he stood guard over her, was touching. The many porta-
potties around the camps seemed not to be used much. I figured that was because they were so unbearably hot inside, perhaps overloaded, and that the stench of the lingering piles of waste was unbearable - not to mention the nagging flies. Understandably, they chose instead to urinate and/or defecate on the ground outside.
As we were about to pass one camp (at Petionville Golf Club), Clebert informed us that it was one of the main camps that actor, Sean Penn, had vigorously dug in to try to help. So we decided to stop. 12,000 people were living in small tents in this camp. The image of gigantic vats of water placed there to quench the thirst of the residents caught my eye, as well as the friendly faces of so many little children, who were running around and playing all over the place. I spoke a bit of French with a few of them. They were amused by this.
While there, we met Fameux Luckner, the camp Director, a very nice and deeply committed man to the mammoth task of restoring his beloved Haiti and its people to normalcy. Also a team of four volunteers, headed by a young lady named Julie, showed up while we were there. She promised to convey to Sean Penn that we had stopped by and that we were there in Haiti to help in any way we could.
Our rough ride traveling to the orphanage from our hotel, La Plaza, took one hour and a half. At the orphanage, which resembled a prison from the outside - a tall brick wall with barbed-wire surrounded it, sadly necessary, due to attempts in past by some to break into the orphanage to steal the babies and sell them - several seemingly happy and content children playing inside the yard greeted us.
As we entered the large entry hall, we were met by the cutest little girl about three years old, who grabbed my hand and looked up at me with the sweetest smile. She proceeded to hold my hand and escort me inside, where we were well-received by its directors. This modest orphanage boasted a seemingly well-managed staff. There are 82 orphans in all - ranging from infants to pre-teens. The second floor held classes for the school-aged children. Plans were put in motion for our organization to sponsor all of the precious orphans of Maison. We took pictures of the children and obtained personal data on each child.
The trip back to the hotel took even longer than it did getting from there to the orphanage. Since our short stay in Port-au-Prince was so limited, we only managed to cover one of the four orphanages that were on our list. A trip back will be made later.
That very first morning there in Port-au-Prince had been an eye-opening start. The living conditions, tents right across from where we were staying were appalling. Eddie could not bring himself to violate the privacy of the people there by photographing those he observed washing up in the morning using small basins inside their pitiful tents with openings for all to peer in, or as they used tin buckets
for toilets, some in the open right outside their tents. The waste matter would be dumped on the ground in piles that had flies all around it.
Yet, the hoards of displaced Haitians seemed to find a way to smile in spite of the mass destruction they see all around them each day. Soccer, we learned, is a huge release, a joyous outlet for the besieged Haitian people. Crowds gathered to watch the South Africa World Cup soccer match on any TV around. Then after the soccer game was over, they came outside and congregated in the streets -- some cheering, dancing and showing great pleasure that the team they were rooting for had won that day. These jovial crowds became a big part of the difficulty for our driver in navigating through the streets of Port-au-Prince.
It is my sincere hope that the two-billion dollars pledged by the United States Federal government for Haiti's recovery will soon be in place in Haiti -- and in the right hands. Restoring the people of Haiti to a normal life absolutely must be placed high on President Barack Obama's list. Perhaps, sending our troops there to help with the urgently needed recovery, once they return from Afghanistan next year, would be a viable solution. That would be just a small part of my hope for the people of Haiti.
