Wednesday
Jul212010
Waiting for a Humanitarian Crisis in Haiti
Last night it rained for hours. We went walking in the neighborhood to pick up food for dinner and came home soaked to the bone. I can’t complain though, because I changed my clothes and slept in my dry bed, listening to the rain outside, falling on the coconut tree like a lullaby.
Today there is a forecast for heavy rains and gusting winds. There is also a 60% chance that the bad weather will turn into a hurricane, and it could hit parts of Haiti. A killer storm. Literally, a deadly storm that would kill many.
This morning several members of the Haiti Response Coalition gathered in our small kitchen around the morning coffee and talked about the storm that is on its way. Do Haitians know a storm may be coming? No, my colleagues heard about it from my Twitter feed, and I found out from a friend in Washington, DC. When the storm does come – be it today, tomorrow, or next week – where will people go?
The sad truth, and it is both sad and infuriating, is that there is nowhere for Haitians to go. When it begins to rain, like it does nearly every afternoon, most people will crowd under their tarps or tents (if they are lucky enough to have these), children will huddle around their mothers, and everyone will prepare for another sleepless night in Haiti. When the wind starts to blow, when it begins to gust, rain will enter into the small, protected space under the tarp, and the children will shiver through the darkest hours.
The United Nations shelter cluster reports that emergency stores of tarps ready in case of a humanitarian crisis and I have to wonder what kind of callousness, what irony is it that allows the aid community to act as though we are not already in the midst of the greatest humanitarian crisis in Haitian history, that they would stockpile tarps while so many are still sleeping under sheets? I am not talking in the abstract; I am talking about what is readily available to any visitor to Port-au-Prince, on every street corner and in every former park in the city. All one has to do is open their eyes and look. It is impossible to ignore the sheets, the tarps, the tents. There is also the transitional shelter question. With only around 5,000 already constructed, and the pathetic goal of 125,000 by next year – yes, June 2011!! – how many storms will Haitians survive by huddling together in the rain?
Six month and one week after the earthquake, we are facing a painful reality. The powers that be have not reached the conclusion that Haitians are worth saving, that the money promised should be delivered, and that aid should actually improve the lives of the poorest members of the Western Hemisphere. It is a failure on every level, but most importantly, it is a failure of humanity. I know it is easy to forget about Haiti, especially if you don’t have a personal connection here. I know that even I feel a great relief when I travel to the States and do not have to confront the cold hard truth everywhere I look – the muddy camps, with their torn tents and no hope, and the children who have no place to lay down at night.
Haitians have been living in the open, exposed to the elements of scorching sun, heavy rain and gusting winds, with no relief, not even a moment’s break, for six months and one week. How long will we let them wait for the aid they’ve been promised? Will we wait for a new tragedy, new deaths, and for Haiti to rule the CNN endless news rotation again, before we decide that these people are people just like you and me, mothers, fathers – adults and children – and worthy to receive real help?
Two related articles on the Huffington Post today:
Kerry Kennedy and Monika Kalra Varma, “Haiti Relief is Not Charity: A Rights-Based Approach to Aid,” http://huff.to/bQBJTD
Mark Schuller, “Rained Out? Opportunities in Haiti Washing Away,” http://huff.to/aEN75j
Today there is a forecast for heavy rains and gusting winds. There is also a 60% chance that the bad weather will turn into a hurricane, and it could hit parts of Haiti. A killer storm. Literally, a deadly storm that would kill many.
This morning several members of the Haiti Response Coalition gathered in our small kitchen around the morning coffee and talked about the storm that is on its way. Do Haitians know a storm may be coming? No, my colleagues heard about it from my Twitter feed, and I found out from a friend in Washington, DC. When the storm does come – be it today, tomorrow, or next week – where will people go?
The sad truth, and it is both sad and infuriating, is that there is nowhere for Haitians to go. When it begins to rain, like it does nearly every afternoon, most people will crowd under their tarps or tents (if they are lucky enough to have these), children will huddle around their mothers, and everyone will prepare for another sleepless night in Haiti. When the wind starts to blow, when it begins to gust, rain will enter into the small, protected space under the tarp, and the children will shiver through the darkest hours.
The United Nations shelter cluster reports that emergency stores of tarps ready in case of a humanitarian crisis and I have to wonder what kind of callousness, what irony is it that allows the aid community to act as though we are not already in the midst of the greatest humanitarian crisis in Haitian history, that they would stockpile tarps while so many are still sleeping under sheets? I am not talking in the abstract; I am talking about what is readily available to any visitor to Port-au-Prince, on every street corner and in every former park in the city. All one has to do is open their eyes and look. It is impossible to ignore the sheets, the tarps, the tents. There is also the transitional shelter question. With only around 5,000 already constructed, and the pathetic goal of 125,000 by next year – yes, June 2011!! – how many storms will Haitians survive by huddling together in the rain?
Six month and one week after the earthquake, we are facing a painful reality. The powers that be have not reached the conclusion that Haitians are worth saving, that the money promised should be delivered, and that aid should actually improve the lives of the poorest members of the Western Hemisphere. It is a failure on every level, but most importantly, it is a failure of humanity. I know it is easy to forget about Haiti, especially if you don’t have a personal connection here. I know that even I feel a great relief when I travel to the States and do not have to confront the cold hard truth everywhere I look – the muddy camps, with their torn tents and no hope, and the children who have no place to lay down at night.
Haitians have been living in the open, exposed to the elements of scorching sun, heavy rain and gusting winds, with no relief, not even a moment’s break, for six months and one week. How long will we let them wait for the aid they’ve been promised? Will we wait for a new tragedy, new deaths, and for Haiti to rule the CNN endless news rotation again, before we decide that these people are people just like you and me, mothers, fathers – adults and children – and worthy to receive real help?
Two related articles on the Huffington Post today:
Kerry Kennedy and Monika Kalra Varma, “Haiti Relief is Not Charity: A Rights-Based Approach to Aid,” http://huff.to/bQBJTD
Mark Schuller, “Rained Out? Opportunities in Haiti Washing Away,” http://huff.to/aEN75j


Wednesday, July 21, 2010 at 11:27PM
Reader Comments (1)
I was so moved by this journal entry that I copied it and emailed it, with a link to the Let Haiti Live website to all the concerned people who contacted me after the earthquake to express their concern for you and the people of Haiti. You so clearly describe their plight. Why do I feel that no one is listening??? And how can we make them hear?
I am so proud of you and all your efforts on behalf of the Haitian people. You're observations are so honest and your writing so articulate that I believe in my heart, if anyone's voice is ever heard, it will be yours.