Talking sh*t

I don’t think I’ve ever talked so much sh*t in my life… And I don’t mean the esoteric, naval gazing, chewing the cud or just plain bull that most of engage in on a daily basis. I mean the real thing – excreta, faeces, stools… Not the sort of thing to talk about in polite company, but it is a reality that has to be faced by the hundreds of thousands of people forced to live in temporary camps as a result of the Haiti earthquake, more than two months ago now. And the aid agencies like Haven who are involved in sanitation.

Think about it. These ‘spontaneous’ camps have sprung up all over Port au Prince and surrounding towns. They are now home to people who have lost their real homes as a result of the devastating earthquake on January 12th. While the camps are certainly improving with better shelter getting to more than half of the camp residents – in the form of either tarpaulins or tents – the basic human needs of every one of the people living there still needs to be met. And all of us eat, sleep and defecate. And those of us engaged in the emergency response have to think about, plan for and provide for these needs.

That’s why Haven got involved in a large-scale sanitation programme in Port au Prince. We along with another 25 NGOs are building latrines in these camps – meant to be temporary, but I think we are all beginning to realise that they may be there for longer than the originally anticipated 3 to 6 months. The target is to build a total of almost 13,000 latrines before the end of March and another 21,000 latrines by the end of June. At this point in time, just less than 4,000 latrines have been built – of which Haven has built 389.

While very unpalatable for most people, and who can blame them, the bodily functions of the human is something that just has to be dealt with in an emergency situation. As people’s homes have been destroyed, and along with them, their toilets and sanitation facilities, we must address this and provide them with an alternative. Sanitation and shelter remain the two most urgent priorities of the emergency response, two months after the earthquake. And as every single person in every single camp produces two litres of waste every day, there is a lot that has to be dealt with.

Haven is one of the major players here in sanitation – and we’re very proud of the fact. As our founder Leslie Buckley said on his last trip to Haiti a few weeks ago, “for people who could barely spell the word ‘latrine’ before the earthquake, we’re not doing too badly”. And sanitation is about so much more than a toilet. It’s about dignity: allowing people privacy and stopping them from having to openly defecate on any piece of open ground there is. It’s about improving health: in some camps where we begin our work the committees report up to 50% diarrhoeal illnesses. It’s about preventing the spread of disease: we run hygiene programmes for adults and kids in all the camps which we work in.

In many senses building the latrines is the easy part. We meet with camp committees, either through referrals, or in many cases by people approaching us as we work in another camp to visit them. We speak to the communities about their needs and, very importantly, whether they have permission to build latrines on the land where they are living. Our excellent team of engineers and technicians get to work plotting out the dimensions of the latrines and we provide cash for work for residents of the camp – especially those who are carpenters or ‘bossmen’ as they are referred to in Haiti with construction experience. A matter of days later, the latrines are built by them, under our supervision.

The softer side of things, the development aspects often prove more difficult that the construction. Our team of community development workers engage with the committees in the camps explaining to them the importance of keeping the latrines clean every single day and, believe it or not, how to use them properly. We encourage the committees to form ‘sanitation committees’ who are responsible for cleaning the latrines on a daily basis. They do this in a voluntary capacity – as we are very keen to help communities take ownership and responsibility for their surroundings. This is no mean feat - getting people to take on the rather murky task of cleaning latrines on a voluntary basis. But, the fortitude and strong stomachs of the people we work with in the camps constantly amaze us.

It’s the kids who are often blamed for dirtying the latrines, as they do not quite understand how they work. One mistake that all of the NGOs made when beginning their work here in Haiti was installing what are referred to as ‘squat toilets’ – very common in Asia. These are simply not culturally appropriate for the Haitian people, who are used to the same sort of toilets as we have in the west. Haven was ahead of the posse here with our highly desirable sit-down toilets – made from wood and which look exactly like what anyone has in their own bathroom. Now all we install is our famous ‘blue boxes’.

So, I spend a lot of my time checking on the cleanliness of our latrines and talking to communities about the importance of keeping them clean “Not for my health, but for your health and the health of your children”, said in my bad French. It’s not a job for the faint of stomach – but someone’s gotta do it. And I cannot tell you how happy I am to see latrines that are spick and span. It’s the little things, I suppose. Our community development team run education programmes in all of our camps – and much of this is about repetition as education standards are often very low – in a country where literacy levels stand at around 54%.

But one of the nicest things about this ‘dirty’ job is seeing our community development workers run the children’s education programmes in the camps. Through song and play they teach the little ones, ranging in age from 3 to around 13 about the importance of proper hygiene. It’s not rocket science. It’s mainly around the key messages of washing your hands with soap before eating, after going to the latrine and after changing babies’ nappies. Simple, yet life saving. Particularly in a country where before the earthquake, one in 12 children never live to see their fifth birthdays. Unless we continue with these literally life-saving education programmes that figure will get rise in the much more difficult post earthquake situation.

So, I suppose talking sh*t is actually a matter of life of death here.