The people you meet

It’s the individual stories that hit you like a ton of bricks every now and again in Haiti. They are the ones that drive home to you why you are here and make all the frustrations of working in a country whose infrastructure prior to the earthquake would make a nun weep fade away.

Today when I was out scouting for more sites for Haven to build latrines and distribute tarpaulins I was brought to a sort of ‘backyard’ camp. These are not the tented villages or cities, which have sprung up all over, Port au Prince. Rather they are neighbourhood based – with families whose houses have been destroyed gathering in their tents in the grounds of a neighbour who may have been quite well off by Haiti standards. They are small gatherings – probably around 5 to 10 families living together.

One I visited was in the grounds of a huge property – a pink mansion - with around 8 families living in tents there. I spotted an elderly woman sitting under a type of canopy – and was told by community leaders that she was blind. I went to talk to her and gave her my hand to introduce myself. This 89 and 7-month-old woman clutched onto me like she was a drowning woman. She told me that she lived in Carrefour (which is around 20 miles away) and that she had lost everything in the earthquake. This beautiful old woman, with papery skin began to weep and could not stop as she told me that she did not know where she was, she had no concept of home anymore and all she wanted to do was to return to the familiar – her home. But, the earthquake means that she will never be able to do that. While a house may be rebuilt on her site, it will never replace what she has lost. This was one of the most moving experiences I have had since I came to Haiti almost a month ago.

Another woman I met was an 85 year old who now calls Camp Habitation Hatt in Port au Prince home. This feisty lady insisted on showing me her US passport. She does not have a word of English, despite her adopted nationality, and had been in Haiti visiting her family when the earthquake struck. Her family have lost everything and are now living in makeshift tents in one of the camps where Haven is working. While this lady could return to the US and no doubt a much better life whenever she wants, thanks to that dark blue passport, she is refusing to leave without her three daughters and their children. She may be in Haiti for some time. Particularly if the queues outside the US embassy everyday are anything to go by.

But besides the stories which would break even the most hardened hearts are the examples of fortitude of spirit and unbelievable resilience of the Haitian people, that makes all of us who are here so proud to be playing even a small part in the recovery. Like the 15-year-old boy who cares for his two little sisters everyday as his parents go out in search of food or work. This beautiful boy, with wise eyes and a quiet way showed us the shack that his family calls home. He was cooking lunch over a tiny three stone stove as his sisters, who could not have been older than three and four, stroked and played with their ‘pet’ chicken.

Or Charles, the leader of a community in a camp called Montreville. Charles is large in life and personality and carries around with him a walking stick embedded with crystals. Charles told me that he believed the earthquake was as a result of a fight between the devil and Jesus. He said the devil was teasing Jesus that he had many more followers who would take to the streets of Port au Prince to celebrate carnival, traditionally the weekend before Mardi Gras, or Pancake Tuesday to you and I. Charles says that Jesus got very angry at the devil’s taunts and to show him who was truly the greater leader, he stamped his foot down onto the earth with all his might, causing the earthquake which claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. And when he did, according to Charles, all the people of Port au Prince cried out for Jesus to save them. Proving he is indeed the more powerful leader.

Spirituality and Christianity is a huge part of Haitian life – and all the more so since the quake. Every camp has its own makeshift church which is packed to the gills on Sundays, for prayer services that last hours. Singing, swaying and giving loud thanks accompanies these services. In some ways, it’s difficult to see why the Haitians are thankful, having lost so much. But, I suppose sometimes it takes losing a lot to realise the value of what you have. We could probably learn a lot from that.