Some Thoughts from the Ground in Haiti

Here is an excellent guest post from my husband John. It describes what we saw in Haiti on our recent trip and some thoughts about it.

My wife Maria and I worked in Haiti during part of the months of May and June. We stayed in a guesthouse-orphanage just outside of Port-au-Prince.

A lady named Yolande lived right across the street from us.

Yolande is 78 years old and lives under a blue tarpaulin which encloses a small pup tent inside.

During the earthquake on January 12 her shack, which was located several miles away, was so damaged that she had to move out. Yolande suffered some leg injuries at the time of the quake and still has one lower leg wrapped in a rag. But Yolande smiled and told me that her legs were "much better".

One afternoon shortly after we arrived, I entered an opening in Yolande's blue tarp. The stifling heat, humidity, mosquitoes, and flies were overwhelming.

The tarp was fastened to thin wooden poles and tied above with shoe laces and other fragments of cloth.

Yolande's family brings her rice and vegetables when they can and she cooks in a metal bowl over pieces of charcoal.

I found Yolande to be a practical and pleasant woman. She did not complain about her living arrangements and even said that Americans are the most charitable people in the world. I sure did not feel that way right then as I hurried out from under the tarp so I could get a breath of cooler air in the street.

During this time of the year in Haiti, the rain comes in torrents in the late afternoon or evening, and now this rain seeps through Yolande's tarp and leaks into her tent. So on top of roasting, Yolande and her family are wet much of the time too.

These hardships are not isolated to Yolande.

Haiti has an estimated 9 million people with one third of the population living in the capital, Port-au-Prince. In this city there are over one thousand tent cities, and an estimated 1.5 million people are still homeless five months after the quake. Many people told me that they are simply too afraid to move back inside of their houses. If their houses are still standing, the walls may have been fissure (cracked) and people fear they will collapse on top of them.

Several miles from us downtown Port-au-Prince looks like a nuclear bomb struck it. The once beautiful Haitian National Palace is collapsed and the majority of nearby Haitian government ministry buildings downtown were destroyed in the 47 second earthquake. Haiti's tax building is pancaked just across from the Palace with its director's body and many employees still inside under tons of concrete.

A densely populated tent city now sits in front of the vacant Palace in Port-au-Prince's largest square called Champs de Mars. A young man who identified himself as Carlos told me some of their problems after I walked through his section of the tent city. Carlos seemed fatalistic and did not see any end in sight to their misery.

Rape is common in Port-au-Prince's tent cities and seldom gets reported. Poor women in tent cities have no rights.

Fountains and small decorative pools in Champs de Mar have turned into large toilets filled with stagnant sewage. Kids play nearby with their family's tent abutting these toxic cesspools. Sewage drainage and treatment facilities are more or less nonexistent.

In the chaotic months following the quake, millions of dollars flowed into Haiti from generous people all over the world. (One out of two American households gave to the Haitian relief efforts.)

And five billion more dollars from the international community has been pledged to Haiti over the next two years. Bill Clinton who is UN Special Envoy to Haiti. Recently Mr. Clinton along with Haitian officials have been in charge of the Interim Haiti Reconstruction Commission. One of the objectives of this Commission is to allocate these funds to ensure that the money is used in a transparent fashion for Haiti's post earthquake reconstruction.

Mr. Clinton and Haiti's Prime Minister Belleriviere announced the Commission's first approved spending projects:

- $45 million from Brazil and Norway in direct funds for the Haitian government, closing a quarter of its estimated $170 million budget shortfall.

- $1 million from the Clinton Foundation for buildings that can be used as storm shelters in the quake-ravaged towns of Leogane and Jacmel, which are often in the path of Atlantic hurricanes.

- A $20 million fund to provide loans to small- and medium-sized Haitian businesses.


But despite international pledges of some $5 billion over two years at the United Nations donors' conference for Haiti in March, only a fraction has actually been delivered - just $40 million from Brazil.

Even though other pledges are supposed to be delivered soon, I spoke to no Haitians during our entire time in Haiti who trusts that the money will be spent properly. People that I spoke with don't really trust Mr. Clinton any more than they do their own fragmented and dysfunctional government. Many are very angry with Haitian President Preval for his perceived lack of leadership and poor communication through Haiti's largest crisis in its history. They also feel he is cuddling up to international powers for business interests that will exclude the majority of poor Haitians.

And why should 9 million poor Haitians trust any one? They and their ancestors have been on the short end of the stick since Haiti was founded as a Republic more than 200 years ago. The corrupt Haitian state is considered to be a fact of life... not unlike corrupt Illinois politics.

So what do "we" do with hundreds of thousands of displaced and homeless Haitian people? Although Haitians are a tough lot, they are not as resilient as our defense mechanisms would like us to believe. And on top of this earthquake which was "biblical" in size, the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has predicted a terrible tropical storm season coming Haiti's way in several months.

But so far (as of this writing) the Haitian government has relocated only about 7,000 vulnerable people to two safer camps. The relocation is slow because the crippled government doesn't have enough money to complete a job that includes not just setting up new tents, but providing work, schools and services.

First of all, should the tent cities continue to exist? Are they good enough?

No. These places are inhuman and horrible. Lack of food and water, lack of security, and the rain are a few reasons.

And the rain is quickly bringing more problems.

Malaria and typhoid fever were everyday occurrences in the area of the city where I was working. Stagnant dirty puddles of water are everywhere and are good breeding grounds for mosquitoes who will carry disease. I saw a teen-aged boy scooping up water in his hands drinking from a puddle in the road. Medical and public health interventions will not help the majority of Haitians unless their dangerous living environment is changed.

Also, heavy rains tempt unstable hillsides to unleash their mud. And serious flooding and mudslides could endanger not only Haitians but relief workers also.

Port-au-Prince, before the earthquake could have accommodated 300,000 people, not three million people. There has been decades of urban decay. This city is doomed right now unless a paradigm shift in thinking takes place.

We need to be honest and understand that many people are dying now and are still going to die no matter what is done. I saw children starving in front of me. I often wondered what good was my stethoscope in times like this.

So what needs to happen? What interventions will minimize the final death count? How can Haiti's problems be prioritized and triaged appropriately? What can be done to give some dignity to the life of over one million displaced Haitians? How do we stop the violence aimed at Haitian society's unfortunate losers?

Haitians tell me they want jobs. Who would have thought?

Jobs earn them money to repair their lives and their family's lives. Jobs allow one parent to stay at home during the day and take care of their babies and toddlers. Kids suffer alot mentally and physically when they are alone or being watched by a neighbor who is already swamped with problems. Children are literally down in the dirt and sewage and their chances for survival diminish without a parent home.

Mother's can breastfeed if they are home. And when mother's breastfeed, they save money because they do not need to purchase milk. And if they purchase powdered milk, they may accidentally prepare it with dirty water which can sicken their children.

With the billions of dollars that hopefully will come to Haiti, big firms with heavy equipment should be hired. Skillful urban planners from all over the world need to work with the Haitian government.

And most importantly poor Haitians need to be hired.

Hundreds of thousands of young, strong Haitian men and women that live in the capital would jump at the chance for a job. Hire them and pay them fairly so they can feed their families while they make a new and better Haiti. The billions of dollars of international pledges need to go for displaced Haitians while they perform the back breaking reconstruction of Haiti.

Pay Haitians in tent cities to repair or rebuild their own homes--the structures where they were living pre earthquake. Or pay the man that rents the home to these people. And these homes need to be earthquake proof homes using Western building codes. Earthquakes don't kill people, bad buildings do.

The huge mounds of rubble on the Port-au-Prince streets needs to be cleared so the streets can be navigated by cars and big equipment. The traffic jams in the capital now slow progress for everyone.

Many people have returned to their neighborhoods after inspections found their homes safe, but often return to the tent camps when word of aid distribution spreads. So food and water distribution needs to be local--- brought to people in their neighborhoods as their homes are rebuilt.

Port-au-Prince needs to be decentralized. The earthquake negatively influenced 80% of Haiti's economy because PAP was and is the hub of the country. Now the hub is critically ill. The capital is built over fault lines and this all could happen again. Three million miserable people living on top of each other need to be spread back out to Haiti's provinces.

But for people to move to the Haitian countryside or smaller cities outside of PAP, there has to be jobs, family members with adequate housing that can accept their homeless relatives, and some basic services like schools, roads, water, electricity, and medical care.

Trees need to be planted and gardens started in these communities. Listening to Haitian grass roots organizations and the Haitian farmer is very important. These people know what they need to stay alive.

The local Haitian community in the province needs to be involved in all decision points.

For­eign aid that flowed into Haiti after the quake has hurt the Haitian farmers. Most of the peo­ple in Haiti's central plateau (L'Artibonite) earn their liv­ing by grow­ing and sell­ing rice, Haiti’s sta­ple food. But the influx of for­eign food aid has meant that many Haitians can now get rice for free. As a result, the price of rice grown in Haiti has plummeted and the Haitian farmer finds himself in more trouble.

Several months ago even Mr. Clinton was quoted as saying, "...we made a devil's bargain" when he was President. He publicly apologized for forcing Haiti to drop tariffs on imported, subsidized US rice. His policy hurt Haitian rice farming and, as reported by Kim Ives, "seriously damaged Haiti's ability to be self sufficient".

And let us not forget that Haiti, believe it or not, is in the digital age. The Haitian people in the countryside have cell phones and access to the Internet. Many Haitians are adept at using both. This means that they still communicate with Haitian relatives, the diaspora, overseas.

Haiti's diaspora has sent back billions of dollars over the past few decades to needy Haitian relatives, but this obviously has not been enough. The diaspora need to physically come back to Haiti and revitalize Haiti's industrial sector. But they won't come back and invest in Haiti unless than can do so safely. Most diaspora tell me they fear for their personal safety in Haiti. Security everywhere needs to be improved. And the economic climate for joint business ventures, to stimulate Haiti's diaspora to invest in Haiti, has to be improved by the Haitian government.

In conclusion, Haiti was a severely damaged country before the January earthquake and is even more damaged now.

Haitians are a beautiful and wonderful people, but they are not as "resilient" as we would like to believe.

Yolande, the little old tent lady who lived near us, should not be living like this. If Yolande were your grandmother, you wouldn't refer to her as "resilient" as she suffers the Haitian heat and mosquitoes, would you?

The huge international monetary pledges need to be allocated in a transparent fashion to help these neediest Haitians.

Driving in Haiti--or even being driven--is nothing if not a adventure. The poor condition of the roads and the vehicles--and poor is a nice word to describe them--makes the strap hanging down from the car ceiling by the window, not just for decorative purposes. The holes and rocks in the road, the lack of driving patterns and lanes, the road-clogging number of cars trying to get someplace in a hurry all combine to make driving challenging at the least and dangerous at the worst.

Drivers in Haiti have to have the reflexes and judgment of expert video game players as negotiating the roads of Haiti, particularly Port-au-Prince, is like being in a real-life video game. More trucks than not have cracked wind shields. They belch black smoke, their interiors are stripped of all but the necessities (and seatbelts aren't considered necessities), and often there are empty beer cans rolling around on the floor.

We were fortunate on our most recent trip to have a fine driver, Jean Claude. He drives for the sisters who run the clinic in Cite Soleil. Besides being a good driver, Jean Claude, like most Haitian drivers, has to know how to keep his truck running. I can't even guess how many miles it has on it, and one Haitian mile has to be about the equivalent of 100 U.S. miles. Jean Claude faithfully and cheerfully got us where we needed to go, and we are grateful to him.

Jean Claude is pictured above with his truck, outside our guest house.

Earthquake Stories

It's been remarkable to hear people's stories about where they were when the earthquake hit. Our friend L was driving home from work. As his vehicle bounced over the rutted roads, he thought, "I need to slow down." He braked but his car continued to rock back and forth. He wondered if he had a flat tire until he looked up and saw the telephone wires swaying wildly. Earthquake. When it was finished, in less than a minute, he continued his drive to his home, part way up the mountain, having no idea of the devastation.

L's wife, who teaches at a school, was home and worried about him. Their cell phones and television were out, and they didn't find out about the extent of the damage until much later. Even until today, there is no cable television in Haiti. It apparently ended with the earthquake.

L was lucky in that his factory wasn't damaged much. Donations from his business associates abroad flooded in, and he and his co-owner divided up the money between his 500 plus employees. One of his employees, Nadia, is the sister of Jackson Jean-Baptiste, a Haitian Hearts patient who died in 2006. L often gives her a ride to and from work.

When we went to supper with L and his wife, he told us about how for fun he had an American Idol-type talent competition among the workers in his factory. He was impressed with some of the singing and dancing talent and would like to have them perform at restaurants, like the one we were at.

L's wife, N, worked at the Union School, a private, American-style, college prep, English language school with grades pre-K through 12. Fortunately, the quake occurred after regular school hours and those who were still on the premises managed to get out safely. Before the earthquake, the school had an enrollment of 300 plus; months after the earthquake when the school started up again, there were only 35 students, as many left for the United States or other countries.

L & N opened their home to medical teams from the United States. For them, life has now largely returned to normal.

Through A Mirror Dimly

We talk to all kinds of different people when we're in Haiti, and we hear different opinions of what the problems and solutions are. One of the last nights we were in Port-au-Prince, we went out to eat with an American couple who have been in Haiti for more than 30 years and raised two children there. The man, L, owns a manufacturing business, and the woman, N, is a teacher.

We had dinner in a restaurant. Our friends had to fight a lot of Saturday night traffic on Delmas to pick us up, so we didn’t sit down to eat until about 8 pm. We asked the couple what they thought the solution was to the tent cities. We agreed that it is a difficult problem to solve. L has met with one of the camp leaders to offer employment to some of the people living in camps who qualify.

We heard from another man who runs a business and offered to help one of his employees who lives in a tent get back into a house that his employee didn't want to leave the tent because he didn't have to pay rent and he and his family received free food and medical care. Going along with this, L said that a man who sells water reported that his sales are up, despite free water being available. They decided that some people have more money to spend because, again, they aren't having to pay rent. As we think about this, we have to take into account how terribly inferior housing conditions were for the Haitians before the earthquake for them to view living in tents as not that big of a step down.

This reminds me of a statement that John made earlier in the trip. We were walking along the partially destroyed street of Delmas 31 when we heard, "Clank! Clank! Clank!" the sound of metal on metal. It was a man, whom we've dubbed the "clanking man." Prior to the earthquake, he lived in a tent below a bridge and fashioned items out of scrap metal. After the earthquake, same thing. Back then, we went into his tent and it was hot and mosquito-ridden. As we walked by him this time, John said, "You know who was affected least by the earthquake? Clanking man." His life was so awful already ("We are living in misery," he told us before) that it could hardly get worse.

But it has. A good day in Haiti, particularly Port-au-Prince, before the earthquake, was like a natural disaster. It is imperative that we understand how bad things are now that they have had a most devastating one. Hundreds of thousands of people are living in tents, which won't last long and will be inadequate when hard rains come. Poor sanitation and people living on top of each other create conditions that can breed epidemics.

I can't imagine what the environment inside the tent is like at night. We spent our last night in Port-au-Prince in a guest house. The heat and humidity were stifling, suffocating. During the night, I didn't think I was going to be able to take it, I was so uncomfortable. And then I thought about all the people sleeping, or trying to, zipped up in the tents, and I was ashamed of myself.

A Haitian Bus Ride

The day before yesterday, we travelled by bus from Les Cayes back to Port-au-Prince. We decided to take the bus instead of fly back because it is cheaper and we would be able to see some beautiful coastline scenery.

Departure times in Haiti are a moving target. First, our bus was going to leave at 4 am, then at 3 am and finally at 2:30 am. As John says, if you can't take a joke, don't blame Haiti. A group of hardworking gentlemen from Grand Rapids, Michigan had to get to the PAP airport to catch their flight, and they chartered the bus to take them. These men had been doing construction projects at the hospital near our guest house in Cite Lumiere. There was room for us on the bus, though, and we decided to go with them, rather than try to catch a bus later in the day when the traffic would be worse. We wouldn't be able to see the scenery but we would arrive in PAP early in the day. Plus we heard the driver of the 2:30 bus was good, nothing to be taken lightly in the challenging driving conditions of Haiti.

The bus was able to go fast on the smooth road, lightly trafficked road (at this hour) leading out of Les Cayes. As we left the coast line and crossed the southern peninsula, the sun was rising and we began driving through some towns as we approached PAP. Even at 5:30 am on a Sat. morning, the streets and towns were filled with people and vehicles. Haiti is on the same time as the midwest, giving them early morning light.

As the traffic picked up, our bus began passing other vehicles. We had one scary moment in the passing lane when we were barrelling toward a truck and it didn't seem as if we had time to get over. "Yikes!" I said right before our bus driver pulled back into the right lane ahead of the truck we were passing, avoiding an accident by the hair of his chinney-chin-chin. "I can't believe there aren't bodies all over the road," muttered the man next to me.

We drove through what was left of Leogane, the epicenter of the earthquake. Lots of tent cities. Carrefour, a sprawling suburb of Port-au-Prince was in bad shape. Carrefour is an oceanside town that then goes up the mountains. In between the ocean and the mountain is a flat, fairly narrow piece of land. It seemed as if all of the rubble from the earthquake had been swept into this flat area and was competing for space with all of the people, markets, and structures that didn't collapse. It is a jumbled mess.

We arrived at the airport and got a ride to Gertrude's guest house, where he headed out on another adventure. More in the next post.

Digging Up Haitian History

Since John's last trip to Les Cayes, he had been wanting me to meet a German man, Johannes, who lives in the area and knows a lot about Haitian history. As you will see, in fact, he and his wife Luise are living on top of it.

We met them at their home just up the hill from our guest house. Johannes and Luise have been living in Haiti since 1975. Since then, Johannes has learned a lot about Haitian history. He explained to us the difference between the two native groups who populated Haiti before Christopher Columbus arrived. The Tainos, the majority group, were originally from Brazil and were peaceful. The more aggressive Arawks, who came from the northern islands of South America, like Guyana, would send attacking parties to fight the Tainos, and, according to Johannes, also practiced cannibalism.

Johannes then brought out some of the pottery and other artifacts that he has found on his property.

The dirt holds layers of history: the lower you go, the more ancient the history. He has also found bottles and other things that the French brought over. Johannes held out a part of a bone and said, "Here's just a little piece of someone's body that tells how they died." It was a vertebrae with part of a iron rod through it.

The Haitian Revolution, which started in the 1790s was a bloody war. "It was based on dishonesty," said Johannes. The French told the slaves that if they helped them defeat the Spanish, who were attacking from the east side of the island and the English, who were attacking from the sea, that the French would give the slaves their freedom. Napoleon reneged on the deal, though, and things got ugly. With its massive production of coffee, sugar, and other products, he thought Haiti, the richest French colony and one of the richest colonies in the world, was too valuable of a colony to lose. When the Haitian slaves defeated Napoleon's troups, the first and only black republic started by freed slaves was born.

The picture at the top of this post is a view from Johannes' backyard. After breakfast, we went outside and Johannes showed us a wall of dirt where he began picking out little pieces of property. It's amazing what history we are living on top of!

Of Amputees and Assumptions

For most of our week at the guest house near Les Cayes, a couple of guys from the United States have also been residents. One of them Peter, a recent high school graduate, was born in Haiti, but grew up in Florida. He was assisting Derek, a doctor and the other resident, with translating in a clinic where they were working. Peter's father is from this area, as his some of his family.

One evening, I was sitting at the desk in our room typing, I heard the front door slam. When I got up to look in the living room I saw it was Peter along with a man who didn't have any arms. "Wow, that guy really suffered in the earthquake," I thought as I ran through a list of everything he wouldn't be able to do: feed himself, get dressed, write, or even give someone a hug

Later in the evening, I asked Peter if the man he was with was one of his patients. Peter looked puzzled, so I continued. "The man who didn't have any arms."

"Oh," said Peter. "That was my dad."

Wow, talk about false assumptions.

We found out that Peter's dad lost his arms in a sugar cane auger when he was 13. One arm got trapped and he instinctively went for it with his other arm and it was trapped. He lost both of his arms right below his shoulders.

This was a reminder to me that Haiti was a dangerous place with numerous people who lost limbs BEFORE the earthquake. Now this awful natural disaster may have created 100,000 or more amputees.

Because the need for prosthetic limbs has always been great in Haiti, the hospital in Cite Lumieure, down the road from where we are staying, has a prosthetic unit that is pictured at the top of the page. It has been extra busy lately as teams from the United States and other countries fly to Haiti to make and fit prosthetics for people who need them.

This week we saw a young woman, whose leg was amputated well above the knee, receive her prosthetic limb. One of the woman on the team explained that it is much more difficult to learn to use an artificial limb when the loss of limb occurred above the knee. We watched this young woman walk gingerly back and forth across the room, getting used to the way the prosthetic bent.

Making prosthetics isn't a quick process; it involves making casts of legs. A kiln, pictured below, is used. The team made eight prosthetics this past week. They will also see the patients for adjustments as they get used to their new legs.

Hopefully, like Peter's dad, who has gone on to earn two degrees and raise a wonderful family, these people who have had such loss, can go on to lead productive lives.

Haitian Resilience?

I subscribe to the Bob Corbett list serve about Haiti. Recently on the Corbett site was a link to an interview of Michele Montas, a Haitian journalist and former spokesperson for UN Secretary General Kofi Ban Ki-moon by journalist Alice Speri. Here is an excerpt:

You talked about Haitian resilience. What does that mean really? What are some examples? Can that still happen?

It is happening. It has been happening since the quake. The day after the quake, when you had kids from the slums going into the university and getting students out of the rubble. There was no international assistance there, it was Haitians helping Haitians. It was people with their bare hands getting other people out of danger. The way people have bounced back… The way we have had for instance, life coming back to the streets, street sellers being back selling vegetables, selling rice, different things… The informal sector bounced back in an incredible way. Resilience is the Haitian’s way of accepting conditions. In any country of the world you would have what you had in Chile, you would have people looting, people just reacting violently. Haitians were incredibly disciplined after what happened. And I think it is something which is linked to Haitian experience, within the last two centuries. It’s something which is linked to a long history of resistance first and way after that facing incredible conditions of life.

I think this is true. In our work in Haiti and in spending time with our Haitian Hearts patients, who are so sick and then usually come through major surgery in good fashion, we have seen this resilience. We also see it in our seven-year-old son. John often reminds us that it was Luke's ancestors who more than 200 years ago defeated Napoleon's troops. Haitians are tough and resilient.

Then, also recently, the following anonymous comment was posted on the Corbett list.

I have never posted due to the fact I live and work here as a private individual and have done for many years. I employ people and would not want to jeopardise mine or my friends' livelihoods by offending the wrong people with my subversive thoughts about reality, dignity and decency.

Anyway, my point -

The thing that troubles me is that I keep reading how resilient Haitians are.

Well the truth is that they are just like anybody else - they are upset and badly shaken by events like anybody would be. It is almost as if one has to worry less about Haitians in peril because
they can handle more stress than your average human being. Almost an excuse not to afford them the concern that one would an American, Frenchman, Paraguayan or whatever.

This is wrong.

I also agree with this comment. There is something self-serving, especially now, about focusing on the resilience of Haitians. If we think they are so tough, perhaps it gives us a pass on doing our part to help them. You know, "Oh, they're Haitians. They're tough. They'll be alright. Yes, I know they are missing limbs and family members, but they are used to things like this and it doesn't bother them as much as if it happened to, well, me." In some ways emphasizing Haitian resilience is dehumanizing.

If we want to speak of the Haitians' resilience, let's speak of admiring it, of it inspiring us to act, to show our own toughness in responding to a catastrophe of huge magnitude.

I'm sure the little girl pictured above is resilient. She is one of the children living at Gertrude's orphanage.

You Can Always Pray

Yesterday, John taught a clinical lesson at the Missionaries of Charity compound to the nurse practitioner students. One hundred or so children live here some temporarily and some permanently. One of the sisters was holding a three-year-old who was understandable sad: she came to the sisters after the earthquake and no one knows anything about her family. She must feel so incomplete and empty, as if an important part of her is missing.

I described the Missionaries of Charity to a couple of people in Haiti as the Marines of Catholic nuns: they can only go home once every ten years; they are never seen eating or drinking; and they wear these habits that I hardly see how they keep from passing out in. It is hot and humid in Haiti now; it seems like 30 seconds after you take a shower, you need another one and this is without wearing a couple of layers of head to toe clothing. Despite these hardships (or perhaps because of them?) the sisters are productive and do very difficult work caring for the poorest of the poor.

On our way home, our hostess Beth Newton asked me what I thought of the Sisters' place. I said that I had been to their building in Port-au-Prince, but, still, it was a shock to see so many children without parents. On the wall of the building, sayings from Mother Teresa, the founder of the order, are painted in Haitian Kreyol including, "Every child is precious and a gift from God." I wish the world's priorities reflected this truth. As we go about our busy days, it's never a waste to offer up a prayer for the abandoned children of the world.

Two Haitis

"There are two Haitis: Port-au-Prince and everything else," is a statement we hear a lot. Flying into Les Cayes, one of the passengers on the plane said, "I tell everyone that Port-au-Prince is not the real Haiti." As someone who has spent most of her time in Haiti in the capital, I had to agree that at least from the air, the Les Cayes area looked much different than Port-au-Prince. It was shockingly green, for one. And then on the ground, there aren't as many people around. Many of the roads in Les Cayes are much better than those in PAP.

The above photograph is from the balcony of the home of our friends, Tim and Joan Reinhold. They are Christian missionaries who live 10 months of the year in Haiti. They, with a lot of Haitian help, built their beautiful home by hand, which is how so many things are done in Haiti. Tim and Joan help put roofs on school and churches throughout the southern peninsula of Haiti. Teams from different Apostolic Christian churches in the United States come and aid them in their mission. Their accomplishments are very impressive.

After the earthquake, many of the Port-au-Princians headed to the provinces where they had family or friends they could stay with. But after a few months, it was time to return home, which in many cases was now a tent. The lives of the people in the provinces aren't exactly easy on a regular day and they couldn't continue to support their extended families any longer.

We have heard Gertrude's suggestion several times by our American friends in Les Cayes: that hopefully Haiti will become more decentralized after the earthquake with Port-au-Prince not having such a stranglehold on all the government functions. If there was more infrastructure and commerce in the rest of the country, people could find employment outside Port-au-Prince and the terrible crowding in the city would decrease. And then, maybe, we would speak of one Haiti instead of two.

A Teaching Stint in Les Cayes

One of the reasons that we are in Haiti now is because John was asked to teach at a school for nurse practitioners. This is his second stint teaching at the school in Les Cayes. Yesterday, he lectured on pediatric appendicitis and shock. Today, we will go to a clinic run by the Missionaries of Charity, and John will give the students a clinical lesson with the pediatric patients.

The students are very motivated. They work full time and then come to class in the late afternoon. Yesterday, they had taken a pharmacology exam prior to John's class. They paid close attention during John's lecture and took lots of notes. It helps that John can teach in Haitian Creole.

The nursing classes are held at a business/technology school downtown, next to the new Coast Guard building that is being constructed. Here is the view from campus:

Yes, that is a cow grazing by the ocean. A new pier is also being constructed and many of our American friends hope that container ships will be able to dock and unload at Les Cayes. Many people have told us that they hope one of the responses to the earthquake is that governmental control and functions are decentralized from Port-au-Prince, making functioning throughout the rest of the country more effective and efficient. We will see.

Tent City, Haiti

Almost six months out from the earthquake, the most noticeable change to my eye is the tents: they are everywhere, some places in huge camps, sometimes in small groups, and occasionally there will be a lone canvas pitched off by itself. The tents are in industrial areas, on private property, on government property. They are often found where houses were once located. There are even tents in the medians of roads.

This is not to say that other effects of the earthquake aren't obvious. Rubble is strewn everywhere, more than usual. Half completed buildings hang in ruins. Certain parts of the city were damaged more than others: the Delmas section of Port-au-Prince appears to have been particularly hard hit, A portion of the road Delmas 31 was destroyed and we had to hike down through a steep gully and cross a dirty stream to make our way down the street. The inpatient unit at Grace Children's Hospital on Delmas 31, a special place to us, is not functioning and tents serve as the outpatient clinics.

One of our Haitian Hearts patients, Jenny G., pictured below, is standing next to the car she slept in the first two months after the earthquake and the tent that served as her bedroom after this.

So it is the tents that may be the most ubiquitous symbol of the earthquake.

Providence Guest House

Our friend Gertrude is doing a hero's work in Haiti. She runs a guest house/orphanage in LaPlaine. Gertrude's original guest house in Delmas was destroyed in the earthquake. Gertrude was sleeping at 4:52 pm when the earthquake struck. It woke her up and she was disoriented. She fell three times as she tried to run. "Jesus, help me," she cried. The rumbling stopped and she ran outside as her guest house was crashing down.

Prior to the earthquake, Gertrude had the house in LaPleine where abandoned children were staying. Fortunately, none of them was hurt in the earthquake. Some of the children she cares for were abandoned at the General Hospital. Some of them are disabled. The orphanage currently has 37 children. Her guest house, Providence, helps fund the orphanage. She has 22 staff members to care for these children. As you might imagine, there are many expenses in running an orphanage.

When I asked Gertrude what she would do if she were in charge of Haiti, she gave a three-part answer. First, she would feed the people. Next, she would focus on the long-term progress of the country, creating housing and jobs. Finally, she would build infrastructure throughout Haiti, not just in Port-au-Price. "If people had what they needed in the provinces, they wouldn't come to Port-au-Prince," she said.

"In the hour of our poverty, this is the time for it," she said.

Dr. John in Action

Dr. John helped a lot of children this past week, many of whom had ear infections. John said, "I think I have seen so many ear infections because people are living outside. And now it is starting to rain."

Examining children's ears can be a challenging process. Some of them look upon the otoscope as an instrument of evil. They want nothing to do with it. We had to hold one little girl down on an examining table to get a good look inside her ears. Others who aren't quite as afraid, put their shoulders up as John places the scope in their ear. He jokes, "Kids don't understand that when they put their shoulder up, it makes it hard to see in the ear. I've told them but they insist on doing it over and over."

Many children have temperatures and other symptoms that are caused by these ear infections, and so it is important to diagnose them so an antibiotic can be prescribed. We see one child's middle ear that is half-filled with puss. The babies feel much better when their ear infections are treated. And so do the moms.

She Needs the Knife

Meet the lovely Jenny G. She is 30-years-old, gainfully employed, and lives in a tent, which is better, I guess, than the first two months after the earthquake, when she slept in a car. Making Jenny’s life more difficult is that she has a severely ailing heart. The medical solutions are almost extinguished for her and as John would say, she needs the knife.

Jenny had surgery to repair heart valves in 1999; now she needs surgery to replace them. She looks good, but had to stop a couple of times and rest when she was climbing the stairs. She is in congestive heart failure, with a number of the symptoms that go along with this condition. If anyone reading has contacts with hospitals or medical centers or cardiac surgeons who might be interested in helping Jenny please e-mail me.

It’s hard to sit next to Jenny and know that she has a fixable problem, except for the fact that she was born in the wrong country.

Survivor Experiences of the Earthquake

We’ve heard several people’s stories about where they were and what they were doing during the earthquake. One woman was outside and realized what was happening, as she had felt tremors before. But some other people around her, didn’t know what was happening and thought the loud noises were shooting; they ran into their houses and then the houses collapsed and they were killed.

Another woman was at work, on the fourth story of a building. When the earthquake started, she sat frozen at her desk, while all of her co-workers fled the building. She is in poor health. She said the building first swayed to and fro and then it went up and down. But it didn’t collapse. When the earthquake was over, her colleagues rushed back into the building and helped her out, as her health isn’t good. When she walked home from work, she saw body parts in the street and heard people calling from buildings.

Another woman was in a large house during the earthquake. First she ran upstairs, and then she ran outside along with the other people in the building. No one was hurt, but the house was destroyed. She said that she couldn’t stop laughing. Even as people came by the house seriously injured, all she could do was laugh. Shock is displayed in different ways. How can this have happened? In 45 seconds 140,000 people lost their lives and there was billions of dollars in property damage. How could it seem real?

Bag On the Ground

After more than three years, this blog is now true to its name, Live From Haiti, as I am typing these words from a guest house in the LaPlaine district of Port-au-Prince. Today I accompanied John to the clinic run by the Daughters of Charity. Today and yesterday were feast days (The Feast of God) so there weren’t as many children and moms at the clinic as usual; several of them were patients John had seen before, and thanks to medicine and treatment, were doing much better.

John’s doctor bag in the above photo survived the earthquake. He had stored it at the sisters, and when he came in for his first day of work on this trip, it was sitting on the chair in his exam room as if nothing had happened. Even more amazingly, one of his suitcases, which was stored at a guesthouse which collapsed during the earthquake was pulled out of the rubble.

Dying in Haiti Like Never Before

John has been in Haiti for almost a week now. It's his first trip there since the earthquake. I can tell, even though he has made countless trips over the past 25 years and spent cumulatively years there, that he is shocked by what he is seeing. He's writing about much of it at his blog, Dying in Haiti

In an e-mail to me, John wrote:

The driver came and picked me up at 10:30 and he took me downtown where I met Frandy. Took about 300 pictures and walked through the middle of the tent cities until I was advised not to do that anymore by my driver for my own safety.

The Ministry of Health building is gone, the Minisitry of Justice is gone, the tax building is gone, the Palace is gone, the Cathedral is demolished, Sacre Couer Church where David Volk got married is gone, the nursing school is gone at General Hospital with 100 or so nursing students.

The tent city in front of the Palace goes on for blocks. It is called Champ Mars. Very dangerous place with dangerous guys I am afraid. Squalid, horrible, rotten, fetid conditions is the best I can say for 10's of thousands of people.

PAP is really destroyed. Have pictures of two collapsed hospitals. And the Pediatric Building at General Hospital is cracked and vacated. The little peds patients are in 3 big hot terrible tents outside. Horrible. And it has been 4 months. Babies appear sick.

The most shocking thing is the Cathedral. The power of nature.

Where It All Started

Today is John's and my 6th wedding anniversary. They have been an action-packed six years. I write this blog largely because of him. His dedication, perseverence, and hard work on behalf of Haitians give me something very meaningful to write about.

Many of these qualities John got from his mom, Mary Sullivan Carroll, who died last month at 95. We had spent much of the last three years caring for his mom, who was in declining health. At the end of the post, is her obituary which you can read if you'd like to learn about how amazing she was.

Mary had more in common with Haitians, with hardship, then we do. She was a young woman in the Depression when necessities like food and shelter weren't guaranteed. Her father and one of her three brothers died when she wasn't out of her teens. Her mother was sick and often needed care. But Mary didn't let these challenges stop her from becoming a stellar teacher or use them as excuses to complain about her lot. She cheerfully and energetically worked hard and inspired others, including her sons, to do so also. She helped build a wonderful life for her and her family.

Besides being generous financially, Mary helped Haitians in other ways by opening her home to them and most of all, raising a son who has been so committed to them. Thanks, John, for doing such a good job following the example of your mom. Happy Anniversary!


WEST PEORIA, IL - Mary Alta Sullivan Carroll, 95, of West Peoria died on Monday, April 26, 2010, at Methodist Medical Center, Peoria, IL, surrounded by her family.

She was born on July 12, 1914, in Macomb to Ambrose and Alta Arnold Sullivan. On Feb. 23, 1951, she married John Carroll, her beloved husband with whom she spent 27 wonderful years.

Mary was preceded in death by her husband on Jan. 14, 1978; her three brothers, Ambrose, John and Bill; and her grandson, Christopher.

She is survived by her two sons, John (Maria) Carroll of West Peoria and Tom (Diane) Carroll of Peoria; her six grandchildren, Jennifer (and fiance Loren), Tommy, John, Kate, Annie and Luke; and Young (Chhoung) La, who was like a son to her.

Mary received a bachelor of education degree from Western Illinois State Teachers College in 1935, and a master of science degree from the University of Illinois in 1949.

Mary was a teacher for 54 years at the grade school, high school, college and vocational levels. She taught everywhere from a one-room school house to Bradley University to Caterpillar. Other schools where she positively influenced hundreds of students include McKinley Grade School, Riverton, Springfield and Monmouth high schools, Peoria Central, Manual and Woodruff high schools, the University of Illinois and Manitoba Institute of Technology in Winnipeg, Canada, where Mary and her family spent two glorious summers. Mary primarily taught business and office occupation classes at the secondary and college levels.

Mary's vocation, both inside and outside the classroom, was helping people get the most out of their ability. She did this in such an inspiring, energetic, and indefatigable fashion that she had students from the 1930s and on who kept in touch with her and would often visit for a dose of her never-give-up optimism and advice. She was continually and enthusiastically helping friends and family with their projects and problems. She loved teaching her grandchildren and was a source of constant encouragement and support to them, holding vocabulary school around her kitchen table in the summer. She was active, walking and running well into her 80s and even went rock climbing on her 85th birthday. She was "sui generis."

Mary loved her home in West Peoria, which she and her husband built in 1957, and where she lived for 53 years. She filled it with beautiful objects, which she either created or negotiated bargain prices for. Her Catholic faith was of the utmost importance to her. She prayed the rosary frequently and demonstrated her beliefs through her actions and her courage.

Visitation will be from 5 to 7 p.m. Friday at the Immaculate Conception Convent, 2408 W. Heading Ave. in West Peoria with recitation of the rosary at 7 p.m. Mary and her family have had a long and close friendship with the Heading Avenue Sisters and she wanted her services conducted there, surrounded by the Sisters whom she loved. The funeral Mass will be held at the convent on Saturday, May 1, 2010, at 11 a.m., with visitation an hour before. The Rev. James King will officiate. Burial will be in St. Mary's Cemetery after the funeral.

Wright & Salmon Mortuary is in charge of arrangements.

Memorials may be made to Haitian Hearts, 2727 W. Heading Ave., West Peoria, IL 61604. Haitian Hearts is a charitable organization started by her son that brings children from Haiti to the United States for heart surgery and which Mary named.

Frontline on Haiti

A couple nights ago, we watched Frontline as it covered the affects of the earthquake in Haiti. Wow, what an aptly named program. The video on this show has such an immediacy and completeness about it--the camera seems to be in the middle of things, instead of merely recording the action--that you feel as if you're right there.

As I watched the hour-long show, I jotted down a few words from the program. Here they are.

The world is coming to an end.

The first thing I noticed is the dust. And then the crying: one in ten people died.

People who live and work here found themselves in a strange land.

The earthquake decimated a weak and inefficient government.

With the city in ruins, makeshift camps appeared everywhere.

More than one million people in Port-au-Prince are homeless.

What pain I'm in, my God. What suffering.

For many Haitians, their faith rests only in the hands of God.

Haiti's story is one of a dream denied.

The Bottom Billion by Paul Collier

When I went to Haiti, I saw a country that abounded in economic opportunities.

There was a real spirit and hope that at last things were going to improve.

Per capita, Haiti has one of the highest concentration of NGOs in the world.

capacity- the entrenched elite, a handful of families.

Nearly half of all American households have contributed to Haitian relief.

We are already invested and we don't want that investment to go to waste. We want a postive outcome.

One toilet per thousand.

The stench has moved from bodies to the stench of the living.

But the big worry for everyone was the coming rains.

The above picture of Fort National was taken by missionary Karen Bultje.