Bishop Pierre Dumas, President of Caritas Haiti.
I believe that our charity and the way in which we live this crisis will help increase our humanity. It will help us be more generous, open and available to each other, because the symbolic ways of living together has been destroyed. All of the symbols that join us together: the cathedral, the president’s palace, ministries, the schools, religious communities and many more places are in ruins.
From Caroline Brennan, CRS staff in Haiti:
Hello Everyone,
It’s a Friday afternoon, sardines and rice has just been served from the office kitchen, hot water has finally made an appearance (some of us have been pouring Starbucks instant packets into cold water), and so it seemed the perfect time to drop a line to say hello!
I hope all is well with you. I know many of you are in touch with the updates here on a regular basis, but I had to write to say thank you for all of the support you are providing from across the U.S. – it goes such a long way here, especially when the clock runs late and the emotions grow weary.
It is just over two weeks since the earthquake struck and the emergency operation here is in a solid rhythm. You would be proud of the top tier staff who have been deployed from all parts of the country and the CRS world, bringing their expertise and ability to see a path to recovery amid the piles of debris. You know many of them well: Dave Coddington, the guru of logistics who can get any material or mode of transportation with a phone and flash of personality. To hear him secure a vessel of shelter and medical kits—like he did over the phone today for 50,000 people—is like hearing him learn of a winning touchdown by his hometown team—only, what he scores for people here means the difference between sleeping under skies of rain or sturdy shelter, having medical care or lifelong pain, and so much more.
Donal Reilly, our resident Irishman, everyday is out in the blazing sun of the displaced camps to manage food and shelter distributions for hundreds of thousands of people. He keeps his dark Irish humor despite the tremendous difficulty of his job. His requires complex management of thousands of tons of food, dozens of volunteers, and safety for the beneficiaries and all those involved. He leaves early and returns late, dusted, whethered, and, like last night, with a minor wound here or there from a tumble or heavy lifting. We’re quick to offer him a cold beer.
Just this week Donal managed a food distribution that reached nearly 40,000 people at the Petoin-Ville Golf Country Club—one of the finest spots in the city before the earthquake, and now home to 50,000 people sprawled across the trampled lawns, their city homes in pieces they can barely lift. The fourth tee is the staging ground for distributions; the tennis courts are where the food kits are prepared. Military trucks squeeze into parking spots made for golf carts. The U.S. military helps to maintain security, though thankfully we haven’t experienced any serious incidents. A representative from the U.S. government’s Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance told our colleagues today that the distribution he witnessed at Petoin-Ville is the best he has seen—not only in Haiti, but in his years-long history in disaster relief.
Still, it’s hard to feel elated when people are weighed down with heavy hearts. The needs are enormous. While roads are starting to clear and relief is reaching hundreds of thousands of people, the toppled buildings, sprawling camps and tented homes set up on the roadside at sundown are sobering reminders of the long road ahead. Fears loom about the oncoming rainy season and the critical needs for emergency shelter and sanitation. Many Haitians describe the difficulty of grieving for their loved ones when they are without the means to perform burial rituals. Our Haitian colleagues perform to the best of their ability despite many having lost immediate family members and seen all that they own transformed into debris. It’s not uncommon to receive a blank stare when asking a work-related question, a quick reminder that some of the people our colleagues loved more than anything in the world, are no longer here.
The CRS Haiti staff returned to work this week. All have received food and shelter relief, as well as counseling and medical care. A clinic is set up under tents on the grounds of our offices here in PaP, and staff – with their family members – have the opportunity to sit with a doctor, nurse and a counselor, to be heard and cared for, and relieved of their pain.
We are all shouldering the loss in some way here, but I hope you can take pride in some of the burden you’ve helped to lift. As of today, Jan 29, alongside our Church and Caritas partners, we have been able to achieve the following:
It is going to be a long road to recovery, and our teams of water engineers, architects, doctors, logisticians, counselors and managers are mapping out the transitional and long-term programming that fits with the needs and context for people to rebuild their lives. We’ll be sure to share those updates and stories with you.
In the meantime, thank you for making this possible and please keep the people of Haiti in your thoughts and prayers.
A saying is popular in Haiti that you can hear on the streets and in camps:
Nou bite men nou pap tonbe: “We may stumble but we will not fall”
Indeed, with your support in these past two weeks, few things have rung so true.
Sincerely,
Caroline