I never thought that I would picture Haiti as it was when I visited and wish it could go back to that.
As you know, Dave and I had a lot emotionally invested in Haiti before the earthquake. He served his mission Kreyol speaking in Florida. He learned the language quickly. But he soon came to learn that to know a people, you need to know much more than their language. When he would write to me about frustrations he had with Haitians, I pushed him to figure out why he had been called to serve among them. I knew there was a reason. So he changed his attitude and opened up to a different culture. As he came to know the Haitian people, he came to love them. He learned their history, their expressions, and their stories. He learned that Haiti was the most productive slave colony in the 1700s and that the slaves there were abused far and beyond what was experienced in other slave colonies. He learned that Haiti gained its independence from France – who was the world’s superpower at the time – in the only successful Slave revolt in history. He learned that Haitians still celebrate their independence every January 1 by drinking soup jounmoun – a soup made with squash that was restricted to the French during slave times. He discovered the unbelievable generosity of even the poorest Haitians when he had 6 appointments with different families on Independence Day to share their soup with him. And as he learned the language and all these new things, he wrote to me about them. He often wrote a paragraph or two in Kreyol and I would do my best to write back in kreyol – he had sent me the missionary’s guide to learning Haitian-Creole that he had been given in the MTC. Living in Montreal, there were many Haitians around me, and between talking to them, learning from Dave, and listening to kreyol music, I started to know the Haitian people and also began to hold a special place in my heart for them.
Dave began to want to visit Haiti and see this country where many of his new friends were from. He wanted see what he could to help. Since he had become fluent in kreyol, he looked for a group for whom he could translate. He found the group Team Canada Healing Hands who is a group of physiatrists and physical therapists who travel to Haiti and train practitioners there how to rehabilitate children with disabilities of all different sorts. The group also takes much needed medical supplies and wheelchairs. They had a clinic and guest house in Port-au-Prince, but also travelled out to remote parts of the countries. After Dave’s first trip, he fell even more in love with the country and the people. He also began to realize just how desperate the situation was there. He committed to going to Haiti as often as he could to help there.
As soon as we got engaged, Dave started pushing the idea of going to Haiti on our honeymoon. It looked like a beautiful place, I knew it meant a lot to Dave, and I wanted to see what it was all about too. So in May 2008, after Dave had spent a week translating for doctors with Healing Hands, I packed my things and met up with him there. I landed in Port-au-Prince and went straight to the ‘domestic’ airport to fly to Les Cayes. We spent a week on beautiful Ile-a-vache and then headed back to Port-au-Prince to see the sights there for a few days. I was overwhelmed by the poverty and the constant commotion there. Sidewalks were used to sell goods, so people, cars, and scooters fought for space on the street. When people saw us (blan yo), they tried to find ways to help us so that we would have a reason to tip them. We were there just shortly after the food crisis of 2008, when people there resorted to eating mud fried with oil and salt. The price of rice had gone up worldwide and Haiti was one of the first countries to be affected by it. I could go on about the people of Haiti, the country’s history, and the hardships that people in Haiti experience every day, but that would take a looong time.
The earthquake that has hit Haiti has destroyed much of the rudimentary infrastructure that was previously there. The destruction and loss of life there is absolutely heart breaking. Anyone who has seen the news coverage can see that. But take a minute to put yourself in the shoes of people in our country who have family and friends there who they can’t get in touch with. And then take a minute to imagine being there – to walk down the street and see dozens of bodies lining the street, to see your capitol building, your house, hospitals, and shops destroyed, to wonder where your husband or wife or kids are, if they’re ok…I could go on and on. It reminds me of 9/11 – when I was walking uptown away from the fallen towers, no phone calls were getting through, people were gathering around cars that had their radios on, and rumors were flying – that there were bombs at Grand Central, the Empire State Building, that there were more planes headed for the capitol building, and on and on. That was scary. But most of the city was fine. No bombs were detonated, response teams were already searching for survivors, machinery was on its way to start removing the rubble. In Haiti, much of Port-au-Prince was destroyed. Street after street is lined with fallen buildings. Roads are blocked by the rubble and there are no emergency response teams moving in to help. As my classmates and I walked up West Street, ambulance after ambulance, fire trucks, and police cars raced down. The streets of Port-au-Prince are quiet. There are no screaming sirens from vehicles rushing to help. On top of that, the aid groups that are there are running out of supplies and resources. The Red Cross reported running out of medical supplies this morning.
It is incredibly frustrating to be here in Canada. We wish so much we could help to alleviate the suffering there. Dave could be of help if he were there now – translating for countless people who are there who can’t effectively communicate with the people there (it’s a bit painful to hear some news reporters’ French – which most Haitians don’t really speak anyway), but he can’t miss school. I don’t think I personally have much to offer in the way of assistance, but there are ways everyone can help.
I think the most immediate need is medical assistance and rescue teams/support. For aiding in medical assistance, I would recommend donating to Partners in Health. It was started in the 80s in Haiti by Paul Farmer to serve a fairly remote area of Haiti – Cange. Paul Farmer is a physician and a critical medical anthropologist and has done tons in the way of increasing life expectancy for people in the region of Cange and lowering the cost of treatments for TB worldwide. He’s done so much more that I can’t even begin to list here, but if you want to know more, read Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder. It will change your perspective on the world. See more on the PIH website for updates on what they’re doing to respond to the crisis. You can also donate there.
http://www.pih.org/Of course other great organizations to donate to include Medecins sans frontiers (Doctors without Borders) at
http://www.msf.org/ or
http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/, the Red Cross at
http://www.redcross.org/ or
http://www.redcross.ca/, or the LDS humanitarian aid at
http://www.ldsphilanthropies.org/.
What has happened in Haiti is sad beyond measure. Please keep the Haitian people in your thoughts and prayers, and please please donate as generously as you can to one of these reputable organizations.
This is me in front of the National Palace - the equivalent of the White House - which has now been destroyed.
This is inside the National Cathedral, the roof of which has completely collapsed.
This is the Marche en fer (Iron Market). I haven't heard anything about what's happened to it, but I can only imagine...
This is on market day in the 'big city' of Madame Bernard on Ile-a-vache. There are no cars on the island - people travel mostly by handmade sailboat, horse (on very small horses), or foot.
This is me in front of the National Palace - the equivalent of the White House - which has now been destroyed.
This is inside the National Cathedral, the roof of which has completely collapsed.
This is the Marche en fer (Iron Market). I haven't heard anything about what's happened to it, but I can only imagine...
This is on market day in the 'big city' of Madame Bernard on Ile-a-vache. There are no cars on the island - people travel mostly by handmade sailboat, horse (on very small horses), or foot.
